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The Big Breach; From Top Secret to Maximum SecurityCompliments of http://www.192.comRyman verified the story that I'd heard over the telephone. When afriend suggested that they enter the Moscow marathon together, Rymandidn't hesitate. He had spent many years training for war against theSoviets, learning to recognise their tanks and armoured cars, studyingtheir fighting tactics and shooting snarling images of them on therifle range, and he wanted to experience the country and its peoplefirst-hand. When a real-life Russian introduced himself at the end ofthe race, speaking good English, Ryman was thrilled.Colonel Alexander Simakov had invited Ryman around to his flat in adistant northern suburb of Moscow which he shared with his wife,daughter and mother-in-law. Ryman was fascinated and appalled at thecramped living conditions of such a relatively senior officer. Simakovmoaned about his pay and conditions and said how much he envied theEnglish lifestyle. `He says he wants to come to England just to seeStratford, Oxford and Cambridge,' Ryman explained. `But,' he added,lowering his voice conspiratorially, Ì think he wants to, you knowwhat I mean, defect, to Britain.'ÒK, when he comes next week, we'll find out if he knows anythinguseful,' I replied.Simakov would have to offer some spectacular CX to be accepted as adefector. As their world crumbled with the Berlin wall, severalSovblock intelligence officers offered their services to MI6, and mostwere turned away. MI6 only had the budget to accept high-leveldefectors such as OVATION and NORTHSTAR, and even they had to work forseveral years en poste before being allowed into Britain. Even thelikes of Viktor Oshchenko, a KGB officer specialising in science andtechnology who offered his services in July 1992, did not have an easytime persuading MI6 that he was worth a resettlement package. Hisrevelation that, while serving in London in the mid-'80s, he hadrecruited a GEC-Marconi sales engineer was regarded as only mildlyimportant and I saw an MI5 report which concluded that the engineer,Michael John Smith, did not pass damaging secrets. (This did not stopMI5 having Smith arrested in an entrapment operation, and this paperwas not made available to Smith's defence at his trial. He wassentenced to 25 years' imprisonment, the judge summing up with theoutlandish claim that Smith had done incalculable damage to Britain'snational security.)Given Oshchenko's difficulty in winning defector status, I would mostlikely have to persuade Simakov to return to his job in Russia and thenearn defector status by providing regular intelligence to the Moscowstation. If his intelligence was valuable then he might earn areasonable salary, paid into a UK account so that his new found wealthwould not attract suspicion. Perhaps on his retirement he could beallowed to come to the UK to enjoy his money, but even then MI6 wouldprobably try to persuade him that retirement in his homeland would bemore enjoyable. My task on meeting Simakov would be to assess hisaccess and motivation, recruit him if suitable, then persuade him thatthis was his best option.Ryman looked grim when he answered the door the following week. He tookme through to the living-room, dark because the curtains were drawnagainst the afternoon sun. A bulky, pallid and unshaven man, dressed intight polyester T-shirt and jeans, struggled to his bare feet from thepage- 77 - To purchase the original limited edition hardback version of this bookplease call 08000 192 192 or go to http://www.192.com
The Big Breach; From Top Secret to Maximum SecurityCompliments of http://www.192.comsofa. Ryman icily introduced me to his guest, jerked open the curtainsand made an excuse to leave. Simakov glared after him as the doorslammed shut. Next to the sofa were two large red plastic suitcases,straining against the string which held them together. Beside them wasa battered cardboard box, filled with books and journals. He had beenreading some of them and they lay opened, scattered on the low coffeetablealong with several unwashed mugs and biscuit wrappers.Ì have defected,' he announced triumphantly in a thick Russian accent.He paused for a moment, then realising that I was not about to give himan ecstatic bearhug, he adjusted the cushions and sat back down on thesofa.`Tell me a bit about yourself, first,' I asked, putting off discussionof defection until later. In good English, Simakov related his lifestory. He had been born into a poor family in a village north of Kievin the Ukraine. His father was killed in a mining accident when he wasfive and his mother died of tuberculosis when he was seven, so he andhis two younger sisters were bought up by his maternal grandmother. Theyoung Simakov would probably have followed his father into the minesbut from an early age showed a talent for mathematics. He got the bestgrades of his class in every term except one, when he had broken hisleg and couldn't walk the three miles to school. Simakov was stillproud of this achievement and rummaged in the cardboard box to dig outthe certificates to prove it. His mathematical prowess was his onlyhope of getting out of a life of poverty.Simakov won a scholarship for secondary education at a military schoolin Kiev. Finishing there with high grades, he was selected to join theSoviet Strategic Rocket Force as a research scientist. After basicmilitary training, he studied for a degree and a doctorate inLeningrad. Compulsory English lessons there fuelled a lifelong interestin England and particularly its literature - he knew far more aboutShakespeare's plays than I would ever be likely to know. On completionof his studies he was posted to the Soviet ballistic missile testranges in the far eastern peninsula of Kamchatka and spent his entirecareer working there as a flight-test engineer. After compulsoryretirement from the military in his mid-40s, he had been unable to getanother job and he, his wife and eight-year-old daughter were forced tomove into the one-bedroomed Moscow flat of his ageing mother-in-law.Life soon became intolerable; his military pension was decimated byinflation, his daughter started to suffer from asthma and his wife wasdesperately unhappy.The final straw came when Simakov emerged from his flat one morning tofind his Lada on bricks, with all four wheels missing. He vowed to moveto England where, he fondly believed, such things never happened. Heset about scouring the streets of Moscow to find an Englishman whocould help him accomplish his plan and he stumbled across Ryman. Thetwo of them made an unlikely couple. Fate had transpired to bring themtogether and produce the tragedy which I could see was about to unfold.Simakov's aspirations were wildly starry-eyed. In return for defecting,he wanted à house with a straw roof and a garden full of flowers forhis wife, œ100,000 cash and a Ford Orion Gti with Executive pack'. Heproduced a copy of Autocar magazine from his cardboard box and jabbedhis finger at a picture of the car of his dreams.page- 78 - To purchase the original limited edition hardback version of this bookplease call 08000 192 192 or go to http://www.192.com
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