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.” 
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