Tenth Part of Excerpt from Trading Dangerously - Import/Export and a Little Thievery

Natalya slowly paced the room looking at the curtains and furnishings and sometimes talking to herself quietly, “Nice drapes”, “Real silver”, “Fucking good olives” (that was the only thing she ate from the snack trays). If I hadn’t known that she was searching for the envelope, I would have assumed she was doing her best to keep herself busy so she wouldn’t have to see what was happening in the sitting room where we were now quite involved with each other.  When we finished, I excused myself to the bathroom and reached into the glass cabinet to demonstrably touch the envelope without looking at Natalya. I knew she had seen me do it and when I returned from the bathroom, it was already gone. Ela, the girl that had been mostly responsible for finishing the job on me was also gone when I came out of the bathroom with a towel and a small bottle of water. Natalya was talking to Danuta in Russian and, I guessed, giving her instructions. Natalya seemed more relaxed than before but turned away again at the bar as Danuta began talking to me about my business. She asked if I knew other American businessmen very well that were in Moscow and if I was very active in the American Chamber of Commerce. She opened up my mini-bar and poured a small amount of orange juice into my champagne glass. “Drink up, Bill.” 

I talked about the AMCHAM guys and knew that this was bait for KGB efforts to get news on anything interesting going on in the way of American investment in Russia or elsewhere. Oil and Gas investments or permit applications were probably the most interesting for them but any large investment that might provide an opportunity for a large bribe to them directly or regional senior officials was also of great interest. Knowing that my package, now in their possession, had something to do with aviation or avionics, I mentioned that the American systems integrators are all excited about former Soviet bloc countries getting a chance to buy F-16’s and other Western defense weapons. Danuta asked, “Which ones?” I just said, “The usual.”

Natalya had up to now been reading from one of my old FEDEX brochures that I had on the counter and suddenly turned to us and said she needed to make a call. I pointed to the phone in the bedroom and told her to help herself. As Natalya was talking quietly in my bedroom, Danuta as skillfully as before, had my shorts off and all of me in her mouth in two minutes. She hadn’t said a word and had me worked up to a follow up explosion when Natalya stepped in wearing only her underwear and said “Goodbye Danuta! Could you please leave me with Bill now?” Danuta kissed me full on the mouth and said “do widzenia”. ("Good-bye" in Polish)

Knowing that I had been as near to coming again as I could get without going over the edge, I was hoping that Natalya had come in to finish the job. She slipped off her black panties, stepped up to me, kissed me very tenderly…as in the lobby bar...then turned around and slowly mounted me with her full weight coming down into my lap. She sat for a moment then rose and came down again twice. That was all it took. Wanting to keep her for the rest of the night but knowing that she was now planning her next business visit, I paid her what she had asked for and asked her if all was ok. “Quite nice” she said.

“Next time, just let Alyona know if you want to see me again.”

Ninth Part of Excerpt from Trading Dangerously - Import/Export and a Little Thievery

Introducing Danuta and Ela, both smiling broadly, Natalya strode to the table in the room and reached out for one of the champagne bottles. I had uncorked one a few minutes before and she asked if she could pour. “Please do!” I offered. “Bill, Ela, and Danuta must drink bruderschafts” she playfully suggested and put the three glasses in front of us. Natalya stepped away slightly and scanned the room quickly as we three began the “get to know you” ritual. I couldn’t tell if she had seen the envelope sitting inside the glass cabinet. I had hoped that I could dictate when they saw the treasure and began their maneuvering to take it. Ela, a sandy blonde, and Danuta, a redhead, were quite beautiful and similarly dressed in tight fitting gray and yellow dresses. Very slim but well built, I would have said that three Russian gymnasts had just joined me. Ela and Danuta pulled me to the sofa and sat down on either side of me. Natalya stayed at the bar and sipped both a water and a champagne. The threesome put snacks on their small plates but did not eat. In fact, they were chewing mints constantly as if to fend off a nicotine fit. I remembered that I told Natalya during our lobby bar meeting that I did not smoke and preferred if they did not. Danuta and Ela slowly began working my clothes off and keeping my attention focused on their mouths and hands that were fast at work on my body.

Eighth Part of Excerpt from Trading Dangerously - Import/Export and a Little Thievery

As 11 o’clock neared, I called room service for water and a couple of snack trays. The snack trays wound up being caviar, blini, lox, nuts and olives. At $125, I almost asked the room service attendant to take it back, but decided to keep the expensive snack. I decided it might serve some purpose…if not to stop my stomach from growling loudly as it had been doing since meeting Natalya.

Midnight arrived and they were no-shows. I knew that it really didn’t matter if they showed up late except that I worried I would rush the whole process of staging their heist. If things got going early, I might have more of a role in choreographing their taking the envelope. I wanted to know at what moment they grabbed the docs, who actually took it, and how much longer they stayed. If the package went quickly and the girls stayed, I worried that having the girls in the room might expose myself to greater risk from pimps or other “agents” outside the door.  More than once while doing this kind of work I had had a woman open the door and invite an unwelcome stranger (read : Thug) into my room. Once the job was done, I wanted the women out as fast as possible. Choreographing three women, this time, seemed hard to plan. I didn’t try. They made it pretty easy it turned out.

Shortly after midnight the room bell rang and I let Natalya and her two friends in the room. They all had furs with Natalya’s being the longest. She apologized for being late and took her coat off first. I immediately saw that she had changed into a small, sleeveless, tight fitting, black dress. Low cut but still very classy style and conservative silver earrings and small diamond studded silver necklace

.

Seventh Part of Excerpt from Trading Dangerously - Import/Export and a Little Thievery

Natalya’s English was very good and she asked how long I had been in Poland. I told her that it was nearing 10 years. She smiled and asked, “Why didn’t you greet me then with the traditional Polish three-kisses?” My answer was somewhat in keeping with the tradition as I said, “I was waiting for our first bruderschaft. Isn’t that the rule?” Somehow Alyona showed up at that moment with two Belvedere vodka’s and Natalya proposed a bruderschaft at the table: “Natalya” she said, turning to me holding the drink in her right hand and crossing hers slowly around my right arm. “Bill” I returned. We drank the small shots in one gulp, as is the rule, and kissed cheeks left-right-left. She brought her face back in front of mine and hesitated with our noses barely touching. She kissed me on the mouth very lightly to finish our bruderschaft introduction properly. Natalya’s perfume, probably Chanel, was not the sweet and syrupy fog that filled the lounge. It lingered lightly around us as we talked about Moscow and my trip from Poland. She put her hand on top of mine several times during the first five minutes we chatted. Natalya was interrupted half a dozen times in the first few minutes by men and women that seemed a part of the fashion show crowd. Most had said they were sorry they hadn’t seen her at the event. She replied every time, (twice in Russian and once in English) “I had an important date” and then looked at me with a smile.

Natalya asked how well I knew Moscow and if I would have a chance to do any sightseeing or shopping while here. She then asked, “What have you been doing since FEDEX announced its retreat from Europe? I was talking to your former colleague, Brian, here in Moscow, and he said you had left the company when operations in Poland were suspended.” Not completely surprised about her knowing the FEDEX story, I smiled and said “not the ideal situation for me losing the FEDEX gig but the consulting office in Krakow is doing fine. This trip is the first of many to make sure I don’t lose contact with folks over here.” “Please let me know if there is anything I can do to help.” She offered. “I certainly hope this contact is secure” she said and looked at me with a smile. “You seem well connected. I’d be a fool to lose contact with you I am sure.”

Natalya pushed her coffee away slowly and asked “What time are you inviting us up to your room for a night-cap?” Her left hand had worked its way slowly up my thigh and very comfortably between my legs. “And do you require that I introduce my friends first…or do you trust me?” Her hand was now firmly resting as close as it could without touching my growing excitement. “That will not be necessary, Natalya. Just come up before midnight, please. I need to be up pretty early tomorrow.”  “I promise, we won’t keep you from your early morning Polish consulting business.” She laughed quietly and kissed me on the cheek as she stood and walked to a table out of sight from the bar in the lobby lounge. Alyona strode past my table and asked on the run if I wanted another or should she put our two drinks on the room. I asked for another and watched the lobby bar “show” another 30 minutes before I retired to my room. On the way out of the bar, I scanned the room for Natalya, assuming she was working on getting other evening jobs lined up or, if not around, doing someone at this moment in their room. I wondered if she always had two women colleagues with her…and what it was like to be with three women. I laughed embarrassingly to myself and guessed I would find out very soon, in fact.

Sixth Part of Excerpt from Trading Dangerously - Import/Export and a Little Thievery

I did not like being spotted first if I was to meet someone I did not know. Alyona had been helpful keeping my identity secret more than once and I really liked her. Even if she had fooled me into thinking that she was in my camp and working for me, I enjoyed spending time talking to her during my stays in Moscow. The added benefit with Alyona was that she could speak Polish very well and we could escape into Polish if we needed to from time to time to exchange information about people I was to meet or get details straight on other logistical items in the hotel (i.e., who to avoid, who was a good guy, ways to endear myself to staff, etc.). I was curious if Alyona was working for us. It would have been a supreme error and dangerous for us both to ask that question. I never knew if it was true. We also had never touched the subject of getting together secretly. I knew she was married and she knew I had a wife in Poland. That was all she knew about me…or at least what I had told her.

The striking brunette that Alyona pointed to was standing in front of me within seconds. I stood to greet her and she introduced herself, “Good evening! Mr. Bill from Poland?” She waited for a confirmation of that and seemed concerned when I hesitated. My delay was a response to my surprise that she did not look as I had imagined. She was, in fact, a dark brunette but she looked like a clean cut American girl out of a Cover Girl magazine or a pretty Harvard co-ed exchange student…beautifully dressed but somewhat conservatively if you looked at the other striking women knock-outs sporting a tidal wave of Slavic sultry sex made up and dressed to bring every lobby bar patron to their knees. Natalya was equally beautiful but different. I almost instinctually thought, “OMG…I’d marry this one.”

“Yes, Natalya?” I finally spit out.

“Hi! I am glad you are here. How was your trip from Poland? Did you get some rest after you arrived? May I join you?” she asked. Natalya was extremely smooth with a beautiful smile and round dark beautiful eyes that made her look more from the Middle East than from Russia. Her embroidered white peasant blouse, mid-length pleated grey skirt, and shoulder-length deep cinnamon tinted hair  were pleasantly out of place where extraordinary amounts of cleavage, slit dresses,  and bleached blonde Vidal Sassoon coiffures were the rule.

I pointed to the seat across from me and Natalya quickly asked if the seat next to me wouldn’t be better. I agreed and pulled the chair back for her to slide into the rather low table. Alyona had our drinks to us seconds after we had sat down. I think she saw us sharing a moment of silence…sizing each other up, I suppose.

Fifth Part of Excerpt from Trading Dangerously - Import/Export and a Little Thievery

Before this trip, my tasks were either completed in the lobby or after a very short session in my room. I played a very naïve and shy American businessman (not difficult for me) willing to trade seemingly meaningless financial data for sex. Disinformation that I provided, (if you can call it that) had apparently been of a commercial nature that wasn’t of critical strategic or military importance but might turn Russian intelligence attentions in some direction that was bogus. (Examples included lies that Boeing was investing in cloaking technology for ships or a new type of booster rocket to be developed by Northrop Grumman. Faked internal documents that were labeled, “SENSITIVE” or “INTERNAL DOCUMENT NOT CLEARED FOR RELEASE” could always be found somewhere inside my deliveries.) My job had been to get the prostitutes to willingly take the documents in exchange for a reduced price for their services. I was to always act like I had no idea why anyone would want them since I assumed all this was public information anyway. As a FEDEX Director, it was assumed I had access to a lot of aviation and aerospace industry information. I guess I did.

As time was nearing for the lobby shift change and, arrival of my contact, Natalya, I quickly showered, dressed in my usual grey sweater and black jacket, adjusted a few things in my room, and ordered two bottles of Russian champagne. I waited for them to arrive, put the package inside the glass cabinet of the liquor bar, and then headed out of my room to my meeting downstairs.

The lobby chairs and couches were quickly filling as I found a seat and sat down. Twice I apologized to men asking if the seat next to me was taken and told them I was meeting someone. There was an air of frustration in the lobby as there were more customers than usual and people seemed frantic to get a seat. This time I noticed that there were a lot more West European women in the bar for some kind of event. It was, of course, a fashion show that had just taken place and everyone was maneuvering to get a place to see or meet some of the stars in person from the pages of Elle, Vogue, and Marie Claire. My waitress came unusually quickly and smiled when she recognized me.

Alyona, a long time waitress at the Leningradskaya, and originally from the Ukraine, greeted me, “Mr. Bill! Nice to see you, again. Are you staying with us tonight? Someone came by the bar asking if Bill Mays had arrived. Shall I point you out to her?” I quickly took her hand and asked, “Alyona, would you please discreetly point her out to me, first?” She frowned and not so discreetly pointed to the woman in question as she was walking quickly toward us. “Sorry Mr. Bill…she has been watching me the whole time and is coming this way now. That is her. She drinks coffee this early in the evening. Shall I bring one for her on your tab? A glass of wine for you?”

“Yes, Alyona. Do that, please.” 

Fourth Part of Excerpt from Trading Dangerously - Import/Export and a Little Thievery

My meetings with the prostitutes in Moscow almost always started at the Leningradskaya. Meetings at the Ukraina Hotel, as well, done in the Stalinist architecture style, tended to be later in the evening when the working women began to fan out to other locations or pick their bar stool in their favorite café’s, lounges, and bars. I preferred the Leningradskaya because the lobby bar had a huge wide-open seating area where the women began their evenings in full luxurious style…and you could see the comings and goings of everyone around.

My room was on the eighth floor. I asked for a suite knowing that I was to “receive” several guests that evening. With key in hand and my black diplomatka, I walked past the vast lobby bar seating area to see if things were hopping yet at the Ukraina. There were several women parked on couches but not the “evening shift”. That group usually made a grand entrance as the hotel waved off the day shift prostitutes and geared up for the “A Team” evening crew…a clear step up for clients that could afford the A-level service. I wondered if the limos outside were bringing that crew in for the evening. That seemed pretty unlikely but, then again, I had noted the previous week in the Warsaw Business Journal that of 1000 young Russian girls polled in high schools and junior high schools across the country, prostitution had far and away been the most desired profession in Russia.

The Leningradskaya certainly allowed prostitution to flourish in its hotel. The KGB wouldn’t have had it any other way. Their partnership was solid and well-oiled after decades of faithful service to the intelligence organization by women that were paid exceedingly well for extracting information from businessmen, government officials, and the occasional spies they came across in their nightly escapades. Not all meetings turned into sex. In fact, the “catch rate” for most of the women was actually quite low. Competition was extremely stiff within and between the evening and night venues. Germans, the Dutch, the British, and Italian customers tended not to hesitate as much as the Americans. One minute of clear disinterest or fear signaled to a woman that this was not going to be an easy catch. She might immediately ask for you to buy her a drink and then leave with it, barely thanking you as she saddled up to the next bar patron. Returning customers and known regulars were given more time to show intent.

I suppose I fit in the latter category since I was known by the bartender and a couple of the women that would smile and check in with me when I would show up at the bar to see if there was interest. Having dropped packages before at both the Leningradskaya and the Ukraina, there must have been a pimp or two that knew me, as well. I had never met one, though. Pimps, I was told, personally delivered packages to their intended recipient.

Women working the bars and lobbies in the city’s hotels were working for two or three clients. First, and foremost was the pimp that controlled and facilitated access to their “place of work”. Ukraina and Leningradskaya were top of the line places and the most beautiful women of Moscow worked here. It was an amazing show most any night to view its stars on stage. The fact that women had access to these hotels meant that a powerful pimp was behind her. The other domestic client was the secret police. Pimps and the police were often one in the same I was told. Use of the term KGB was quickly going out of style by this time but it was clear that there had been no major changes among the intelligence people in Moscow…at least as far as I could tell and what friends were telling me that were being called in and questioned every time I showed up in town. Dimitry, a friend from FEDEX days, dreaded my visits. He was grilled every time I left and forced to see photographs of me sitting in hotel lobbies chatting with people. 

Third Part of Excerpt from Trading Dangerously - Import/Export and a Little Thievery

          Flights to Moscow from Warsaw were non-stop and LOT Airlines provided a very comfortable Business-Class service that included unlimited champagne. I rarely wanted a drink on the way to Moscow, though, as all my previous visits had begun with unexpected “adventures”. The last thing needed was to be drunk if a taxi driver decided to take me on a ride in the country to extort more money for his services.

Such an adventure “happened” on the last trip for FEDEX and I wound up six hours late for a meeting at the offices just off of Red Square. I would have probably paid the guy more money but he wanted a $500 extra “tip” or I would be” beaten up by (his) buddies in the woods North of town”, he told me. The driver himself was enormous but he seemed so intoxicated (and nervous) about what he was attempting, I decided to wait him out and refused to pay. After about four hours, I finally broke the silence, using a sympathetic tone, and told him that I understand how bad the economic conditions were for taxi drivers and the “average Ivan” in Russia. After a while I began to negotiate the sum down and he wound up taking $50. This was a precedent that was set for the bribe taking and corruption I would be exposed to for the next ten years in Moscow. Whatever someone was asking for could usually be negotiated down to about 1/10^th of their original request…unless they already had a gun to your head or a torch to your foot.

***

Getting to the hotel had been mostly uneventful. My visa, previously secured while the Polish Country Director for FEDEX, was still valid and getting through the maze of customs, passport, and other security at Sheremetyevo Airport had gone exceedingly well…by Russian standards. The cab pulled up to the hotel at the main entrance passing under a huge awning that seemed to be welcoming guests for a media event that evening. It was around ten. Not so sleek (but shiny) black Volga limos were lined up outside in the entrance drive and an inordinate number of beautiful women were milling about the entrance. I paid the driver and took my small bag (Russian style diplomatka) with me into the hotel past the crowd of women.

                The Leningradskaya Hotel was in one of the seven Stalinist era skyscrapers built in Moscow in the early 50’s. Many felt that these buildings represented the ugliest socialist architecture that the Soviet Union bestowed on its Soviet partners and other grand civic leaders and institutions of the communist era.

(Warsaw’s own “Wedding Cake” – Palace of Science and Culture - was one of these presents from Stalin. Poles felt that the best view of Warsaw could be seen from that building…obviously because the building itself would not be visible to ruin the view of the city.)

Part Two of Excerpt from Trading Dangerously - Import/Export and a Little Thievery

In an unusual break in standard operating procedures, instead of picking up the package at the Embassy library the next morning, Jane showed up at my rented flat in Warsaw (She’d never done that before.) She had my package with her and asked if she could come in for a minute. Of course I agreed and shut the door behind her. She hesitated then said, “I have your package for Moscow. Clint threw it over the partition to me. I wanted to give you a last chance to back out of this one.” Surprised by her statement and offer, I asked if she could tell me why my involvement in this delivery concerned her. She told me, “Getting involved in dis-information to Russian agents is about as close as you can get to being a full-fledged player. We still use contractors for this stuff but you have a family in Krakow and we worry you may have agreed to this too quickly without thinking about it. It puts you on lists that can turn black at any time. Moscow is currently in one of those periods where the CIA desk is playing some higher stakes games. A couple of our people are missing. The Warsaw guys are worried about it and wanted me to remind you that this is a slightly different game you will be playing with a wholly different set of players on their side…and our side, too.

“I’ve done this before, Jane. Same hotel and same recipients. What’s different?”

“Different type of information and higher caliber recipient…and greater chance of recipient doing unexpected things. Bill, I know you take this seriously, but don’t forget that I can have you safely teaching almost full-time if you are up to it. You don’t have to do this.”

“I really appreciate the personal attention tonight, Jane. Let’s see how this goes. It may be my last job based on your revelations.” She smiled and handed me the package. It was a normal looking thick brown envelope with a string tie-top. Something like an internal mail pouch for memos or larger documents, it was not sealed. Jane’s last words as she stepped toward the elevator, “I suggest you not open it or look at what’s inside.”

Excerpt from Trading Dangerously – Import/Export & a Little Thievery by Billy Mays

Blake, the bartender at the “Marine Bar” at the US Embassy in Warsaw only once let on that he knew that the notes he handed me across the bar were from the CIA desk.  And on that one occasion, he did so in such a way that no one else around knew what he was talking about. Jane, at the USIA, always told me when to approach him and ask if he had anything for me. For seven years the routine had remained the same.  This time he leaned over to whisper that this note was not to leave the bar area. As before, Blake was my “Mercury” delivering a “task” for me to accept (or refuse) when I went to the Embassy’s special watering hole for US citizens working or studying in Poland. 

It wasn’t just Blake’s unwavering nonchalance over the years during our exchanges that became unnerving as the complexity of tasks expanded and the danger associated with carrying them out similarly grew.  Jane also started to distance herself from me and had warned, “If you get caught doing anything for these guys, the embassy will disavow any knowledge of your activities. You are alone in this.” She hardly flinched when I reminded her that the “disavow any knowledge” bit was a line out of the ‘Mission Impossible’ TV series from the early 70’s. She liked to remind me, “You teach English for the USIA American Language and Culture Program that I direct…that is all you and I have in common.”

There was never any tape that self-destructed after my meetings with Blake at the Marine Bar. But then again, the rules we operated by said I couldn’t take the note out of the bar. Blake was built like an NFL linebacker…or a tall version of a US Navy Seal. I had no intention of walking out of the US Embassy in Warsaw with evidence that I was doing anything for the CIA.  Officially I wasn’t. On this occasion, Blake came over to my table as I was weighing advantages and disadvantages of accepting a mission in Moscow. He seemed worried that I might be copying the note on a different piece of paper and did not want me leaving with that pirated version. In fact, I had two columns on my paper…a plus column and a minus column. My notes read:

***

pluses are I will get $2500 for one week...nothing sensitive to be delivered...will be meeting with prostitutes and not killers...will likely not be recognized  
minuses are I have to find a way to explain the trip to my wife...every prostitute is a spy in moscow...every spy is a killer...BULLSHIT...they already know me in moscow.

***

Blake walked up to my table and calmly took all papers I had out and sternly told me “follow the rules”.

The rules were that if I immediately accepted the mission, I was to order a beer. If I did not accept, I was to order wine. If I was uncertain about things and needed more time, I was to order a straight vodka or whiskey and then go sit down and make a final decision within 15 minutes. Who knows what would have happened if I had taken 20 minutes to decide if my mission was to kill someone and then stuff them in a dumpster. Blake seemed the type to manage his bar very well…and I tried to follow the rules most of the time.

The note from Blake, on this occasion read:

***

You are to take a package of documents to Moscow. Check in to the Leningradskaya Hotel on the 20^th of November and show up at the Lobby Bar between 9 and 10 pm. Do not take the package to the bar. There will be one tall long-haired brunette Natalia waiting for you. Invite her to your room for the usual. She will suggest having other female guests join you, as well. You should accept.  The package needs to be “stolen” by your female guests so that they think they have done so without your knowledge. You have done this before…we trust you will do so again. We will be watching....  $2500 for one week

 ***

Blake seemed relieved that my scribbling was not a copied version of the note. He brought a beer out to me and hesitated before he put it down. “You’ve never refused before.”

“Thanks, Blake. I’ll take the beer.” I told him.  “Good luck” he responded, “…and dosvidanya!” he added.