Moskovsky Komsomolets: Interview of Tamara Netyksa, Veteran KGB Illegal Intelligence Officer

On November 10, 2020, one of the most popular Russian semi-tabloid newspapers Moskovsky Komsomolets published an interview of Tamara Netyksa, veteran KGB illegal intelligence officer. The interview was conducted by a well-known Russian journalist Eva Merkacheva who frequently writes about the Russian foreign intelligence service. Below is my translation available only on this website.

Declassified in January 2020, Netyksa gave her first major public interview to the Russian state-owned news agency RIA Novosti on March 6, 2020. My translation of this interview is also available on the website and can be accessed here.

Eva Merkacheva: Declassified Intelligence Officer Tamara Netyksa Reveals the Methods of Illegal Intelligence

November 10, 2020 Moskovsky Komsomolets

She could have become a ballerina and her husband could have been a violinist or a great scientist. But they became illegal intelligence officers and used their artistic and scientific talents to obtain top secret information for the [Moscow] Center.

The names of husband and wife, Vitaly and Tamara Netyksa, were declassified in January 2020 by the director of the Foreign Intelligence Service, Sergey Naryshkin. Unfortunately, Hero of Russia Vitaly Vyacheslavovich did not live to see this moment (he died in 2011). But his wife is now sitting in front of me. She appears a little bit embarrassed that there is so much media attention on her, but she is the only living witness of her husband’s accomplishments. And, of course, of her own accomplishments as well.

How artistic talents can aid recruitment, how her husband almost became the president of a foreign country, and how he prevented terrorist attacks in Moscow are some of the topics that the retired Colonel Tamara Netyksa talked about in a revealing interview with a journalist of Moskovsky Komsomolets.

Explanatory Note (Moskovsky Komsomolets)

Husband and wife, Vitaly and Tamara Netyksa, worked in Latin American countries with strict administrative and police regimes. Being exposed in those places would have cost them their lives. The intelligence services of those countries actively used torture. The Netyksas obtained military and technical information that these countries had about their neighbors.

While abroad, they had a son and a daughter, who learned that they were Russian only after their parents’ return to the homeland. Vitaly Netyksa was promoted to the rank of Major General and decorated as Hero of Russia.

Where Intelligence Officers Fall in Love

- Tamara Ivanovna, there are so many interesting events in your life, enough for several books. So, it’s impossible to tell everything in one interview. But what would you like to tell our readers?

- Let me think... Well, everything can never be told in principle. It wasn’t so long ago that my husband and I returned to Russia, and those who can recognize us are still alive. Some of our work is still classified.

I would like to tell you why we chose this profession. But, at the same time, I wouldn’t like our conversation to be about some kind of made-up patriotism. Just imagine, Victor was from a family of intellectuals (his ancestors were aristocrats). He was smart, intelligent, handsome. As they say, 10 points out of 10. He could have become a world-famous scientist or engineer. But he became an intelligence officer.

- How did you meet him? Please don’t say that it was on the instructions from the Center.

- We met while we were still at the Institute. We studied together at the Moscow Aviation Institute, only I was in the second year and he was in the fourth. He was on the Komsomol committee and was a Lenin fellowship recipient, so all my girlfriends were in love with him. But we didn’t come across each other until February 29, 1968 (I will never forget that day).

So, on the 29th, I headed to the dining room with my girlfriends and he was standing in the corridor with a friend (who I am still in contact with, his dacha is near ours). And he said to his friend: “If that girl over there turns around now, she will become my wife.” That was me and I did turn around. He ran up to me and said: “Can I invite you to the movies?” “Sure!” I said. The next day we went skiing together, and he proposed to me.

- On the second day after meeting you?

- Yes. I laughed so hard; I took it as a joke. He then asked me: “Do you like the music of [Camille] Saint-Saens?” Of course, I loved it because he wrote “The Swan”! After that, we went to all the violin concerts. We even had a subscription. Viktor [Vitaly] himself played the violin extremely well (by the way, he graduated from a music school). A year later, in May, we registered our marriage at the newly built Wedding Palace named after [Alexander] Griboyedov. They say that getting married in May means a boring marriage. God grant that others are bored as much as we were! We never really parted for a single day. There was operational travel, of course, but we were always in touch, that is, mentally, spiritually, we were always together.

- And how did a student, who was also a violinist, get into intelligence work?

- First, it was one of his friends who was hired. Then my husband asked this friend to help him getting a job. A week before our wedding, I was visiting Vitaly (he lived in a tiny apartment in the very center of Moscow with his aunt, who was from the famous Rimsky-Korsakov family). And so, he went to see me off to the dormitory. We went under the arch, and Vitaly suddenly became very serious: “Wait, I have something very important to tell you. I am going to work for the intelligence service. I made a firm decision. Do you agree to stay with me now that you know it?” I answered: “Yes, of course!” You see, he immediately grew 20 times in my eyes. We were such romantics in love with our country. We grew up watching the film The Exploits of an Intelligence Officer [1947]. Later I learned that the prototype of the protagonist was an illegal intelligence officer [Nikolay] Kuznetsov. The Spanish woman with the codename Patria, that is, Africa de las Heras, worked with him (they were in the same partisan detachment). Many years later, she became my language teacher.

As you have already guessed, the intelligence service hired my husband first, and I followed him.

A Handkerchief on the Phone and A Ready-Made Stock of Jokes

- Tell us how the legendary Spanish woman [Africa de las Heras] taught you.

- I remember that after we had passed an exam, our handler said: “Tomorrow you will meet a real Spanish woman and she will be your language coach.” I spent the whole night looking at the mirror, picking up an outfit to wear and watching my facial expressions when I pronounced foreign words. I was terribly worried.

And so, I rang the doorbell of her apartment, Patria [Africa] opened and, without any greeting, asked: “Does it smell good?” I was confused. What did it mean? Was it a password? I told her that I was glad to meet her in Spanish. But she repeated: “Does it smell good?” It turned out that she had made a pizza: she kneaded the dough herself, she put tomatoes on top and mixed the sauce with basil and garlic. Of course, the smell from all these ingredients was strong. I sat down at the table, somewhat disappointed by the first impression I made, and she smiled: “Okay. Now let’s speak Spanish.”

Patria liked us so much right away that she let us spend nights at her place. The next morning, other students would come by, and we would leave quietly. 

I often walked around Moscow with her. She quickly realized that I loved art, and there was a bookstore “Druzhba” on Gorky Street where the descendants of the Spaniards who came to Moscow after the Civil War worked. And she would say: “Come, we’ll buy you some books.” You see, you can’t just learn Spanish. You need to know the culture, the art. And Patria taught me all this. She knew how to draw really well and sometimes she would say: “Let’s draw a still life together.” Generally speaking, she was my guide into the world of art.

- Have you formally studied art history?

- I did so later when I was already abroad.

- Did Patria teach you any strictly intelligence techniques?

- Yes, of course! And above all, she taught us to pay attention to details. “For instance, you get on the train,” she would say. “And there you meet…” And she told us how to behave in different situations. You see, if it hadn’t been for her, and if I hadn’t had that training, I don’t know what would have happened to me. For example, once I was on the train (it was in Europe) and a conductor came up to me and said: “When are you going to have lunch? There is surprise for you in the dining car.” And [when I went there, I found] the girls of the same nationality as I was according to my passport sitting at my table. Of course, they could expose me, but I retained my cool and everything went fine.

Or once when my husband and I arrived in a certain country, we went to a Spanish restaurant, we sat there and chatted with the owner. He asked: “Who are you? Where are you from?” We answered, of course. And then he said: “Oh! The police chief of the city where you are from is coming for lunch. You will be happy to meet him.” What could we do? But we were prepared for such situations, we knew a lot of jokes that can be told to relax the tension. And then the love for the arts, the knowledge of music and painting would always rescue us. It worked wonders, especially with people who were of interest to our service.

- What else did Africa de las Heras teach you?

- For example, when you were staying at the hotel and you had to be woken up at a certain time, let’s say 6 o'clock in the morning (there were no cell phones then), she advised: “When you enter the hotel room, put a handkerchief on the phone right away. So, when you are suddenly woken up in the morning, you won’t say “Hello” or something like that in Russian.” That handkerchief would serve as a reminder.

In a certain country, I met a woman who introduced me to her friends, and I stayed with them for a while. And I learned so much from them that nobody could ever doubt that I was from that country. I polished the language and learned everything about their customs and culture. But, on the very first night, I said to them unthinkingly “good night” in Russian. I immediately froze. They answered me: “Buenos noches.” That is, they did not understand that I said it in Russian. “Buenos noches” and “good night” in Russian sound quite similar. Perhaps it may even be necessary to make such mistakes once, so that one does not repeat them ever again.

The best Student of the Ballerina Alonso

- Is it true that you trained to be a ballerina?

- Yes, from the 1st to the 10th grade, I went to a ballet school. I loved ballet very much. And when I was in Cuba, I was lucky to be present at the meeting of two great ballerinas: Galina Ulanova and Alicia Alonso. All this took place within the framework of the Party congress (I also met Fidel Castro there).

- And who were you then according to the cover story?

- We were supposed to be Russian students who came to Cuba on a cultural exchange. Naturally, in fact, we were on a serious intelligence mission.

As for the meeting between Ulanova and Alonso, Ulanova said to me: “Tamarochka, have you stopped ballet dancing long time ago?” I said: “How do you know?” “Well, I can see it in the way you walk.” I was present during their conversation; they spoke French and I translated for them. The conversation was very interesting. Alonso already had poor eyesight and danced with some difficulty. But she knew all the ballet scenarios of the world by heart. Once she fell on the stage, but she was able to get her bearings quickly. At this meeting, Alonso said that she had a school in Brazil and talked about her students there. I remembered this and later used it for my cover story.

- Did you say you were a ballerina?

- Kind of. I said that I studied at Alonso’s Brazilian ballet school. Many years later, the Cuban ballet was on the tour in the country I lived in, and my daughter and I went to see the performance. After the performance, my friend told me: “I can take you to a buffet table where your teacher Alonso will be. Do you want to meet her again?”  Well, what could I say? “Of course, I do.” And so, she took me to Alonso and said to her: “Your student Ana-Maria. Do you recognize her?” I felt ready to deal with any outcome. But Alonso ‘recognized’ me and hugged me saying: “This was my favorite student.” My daughter, who was standing nearby, was absolutely delighted! After all, her mother met her legendary ballet teacher again.

- Did you come up with the name Ana- Maria yourself?

- No. This name was assigned to me. In general, I shouldn’t really say what my cover name was, but it was very common in the country where we lived. Half of the women there have that name, so I think I can say it publicly.

I knew that Alonso really had a student named Annushka. I made inquiries about her ballet school... Well, when she recognized me, the whole district was filled with excitement: “Anna met her teacher Alonso again.”

More than “17 Moments of Spring”

- Does luck play a role in the intelligence profession?

- Yes, of course. Once I was already pregnant, we were riding on a bus. An elderly woman got on. My husband jumped up, gave her his hand, and she sat down next to me. Afterwards, she invited us to her home. We became good friends. She treated us with such love! Then when we left that country, she wrote letters to us and kept inviting us to visit. She thus became my husband’s aunt in our cover story, and no one had any suspicions whatsoever. She always signed her letters with “your aunt.” My children were sure that she was our aunt. We sent her photographs and gifts and she responded in kind. You see how important she was for our cover story! And there have been a lot of lucky instances like that. And not just “seventeen moments” [a reference to the Soviet TV series], but many more over the years. I sometimes wondered what would have happened if we had not taken advantage of that situation. The intelligence officer has no right to overlook anything; he must try to use everything that comes his way. The whole country depends on him.  

- Were you ever homesick?

- Yes, of course. If a Soviet circus or theater came on tour, we were always among the first to get the tickets. I remember that when [Yury] Kuklachev came with his cat theater, I took my daughter to see it. How happy she was! And she had no idea that both Kuklachev and his cats came from her historical homeland and that she herself was a Russian girl.

Once we were standing on a bridge and a steamer was sailing with the flag of the USSR. We heard Russian language. Those were such happy moments! We were spellbound. And after that, we set to work with even more motivation. Because we understood what a great country we were working for.

- I would like to know more about your work. Did your husband collect most of the information?

- Yes, he was the team leader, and I was his assistant. But a lot of information came through me as well. And we always recruited together.

- Did you work against the countries in which you lived?

- No, we collected information about their neighbors. Of course, we were mostly interested in political and economic information, which our country needed very much. And if something more technical was needed, my husband’s education was of great help. He was a very good mathematician. He graduated from several universities while we were abroad. He had his own business. Then he took up a high post in the government. He was even offered to become the president.

- Really?

- Well, it’s sounds funny, but it’s true. Had he been allowed [by the Center] to run as a candidate, he certainly would have won.

- Did you return to the homeland after the USSR already ceased to exist?

- Yes. And I remember how shocked we were. We returned to a completely different country. But we continued to work. In 1996, my husband obtained information about the terrorist attacks being planned in Moscow.

- Did this information help to prevent them?

- Yes, I think so. It was not by chance that this information came to him. My husband was a man of genius. He was born to be an intelligence officer. How people were drawn to him, how he was respected, how he worked with his agents, and so on – he was such a master craftsman. That is how he obtained information about anything that could harm our country.

- Have you and your husband ever been betrayed?

- No. Because they [the Center] took great care of us and didn’t let anyone near us, and because we ourselves always checked everything. The most important thing for us was to do everything we can, to come back, and remain undiscovered. Not all intelligence officers succeed in that, and some are betrayed. But it’s always easier to work in pairs. When men work alone, it is very difficult on them. The woman reminds them about the things to be checked, about the fact that you always need to be on the lookout, she intuits difficult situations with a sixth sense, she relieves tension with a smile. This must be in the female intelligence officer’s blood, otherwise you put at risk not only yourself, but also your work and your country! And nobody has a right to do this.

And now, when I teach new generations of intelligence officers, I always say: “We are not dead heroes, like [Nikolay] Kuznetsov, we are still alive and we can still pass on a lot of things to you.” I cannot understand how it is possible to speak badly about our homeland or to call our people “cattle.” I get very angry. I don’t agree with everything that is going on and I don’t like everything I see, but we have only one homeland. And how many are all too willing to break it up, to tear off a piece here and a piece there, to demean it? I cannot listen when our homeland is being demeaned and treated rudely, but some seem to be happy about it. I cannot accept this.

After returning to Russia, I saw the film “The White Sun of the Desert” [1970]. I think that the astronauts loved this film because of that great phrase: “It’s a shame that this is happening to our country.” The things that are going on are sometimes very insulting to our country. And I would like to ask those who do these things: “Why are you offending your homeland?”

 

 

 

Moskovsky Komsomolets: Interview of Lyudmila Nuykina, Veteran KGB Illegal Intelligence Officer

On February 21, 2020, one of the most popular semi-tabloid Russian newspapers Moskovsky Komsomolets published an interview of Lyudmila Nuykina, veteran KGB illegal intelligence officer. The interview was conducted by a well-known Russian journalist Eva Merkacheva who frequently writes about the Russian foreign intelligence service. Below is my translation available only on this website.

Declassified in 2017, Nuykina gave her first major public interview to the Russian state-owned news agency RIA Novosti on March 7, 2018. The translation of this interview is also available on my website and can be accessed here.

Eva Merkacheva: Russian Illegal Intelligence Officer Described How She Gave Birth Abroad

Moskovsky Komsomolets February 21, 2020

The director of the Russian Foreign Intelligence Service (SVR), Sergey Naryshkin, recently declassified seven illegal intelligence officers. This was a unique event: never before have so many names of illegal officers been made public. One of the officers, Vitaly Nuykin, worked in tandem with his wife Lyudmila. “The Redhead” - as he called his faithful comrade at home - revealed to us the secrets of their joint work.

- To make the interview interesting, one needs to be frank. Are you sure that I am allowed to do that? - Lyudmila Nuykina doubtfully asked her “handlers” from the SVR before the interview.

And, yes, she was. In honor of the centenary of the foreign intelligence service, she was allowed to share her most deeply hidden stories: how they got computer secrets, how they exposed enemy spies, how [Oleg] Gordievsky betrayed them.

BIOGRAPHICAL INFORMATION: Vitaly Nuykin was born on April 5, 1939 in the village of Mokhovskoye in the Parfenovsky District of the Altai Region. In 1960, he graduated from the Faculty of International Relations at MGIMO. After that, he was employed in the state security services.

Until 1986, he and his wife operated in more than 18 countries. Nuykin obtained very valuable information on the political strategies of the leading Western countries. The Nuykins were recalled from their last assignment due to Gordievsky’s betrayal. After returning to the USSR, they worked in a number of analytical departments of the Center. Lyudmila Ivanovna was declassified in 2017 and Vitaly Alekseyevich in 2020.

Dressed in the Military Jacket and Boots

Lyudmila Ivanovna looks very classy. Her clothes, her manners, her quiet melodic voice. She often mixes Russian words with the French ones, but this gives her even more charm. Addressing the interlocutor, she says: “Monsieur,” “Mon Sire.” She tells jokes and likes to laugh. But when it comes to serious topics, she transforms before one’s eyes, becomes sad, and sometimes even cries…

Being oneself is difficult for an intelligence officer. But, even when they worked under false names, Nuykina and her husband did not lose the sense of who they were as people. It is no coincidence that the friends they had made in different countries who contacted them afterwards (after the betrayal of Gordievsky, their photographs were seen around the world) did not stop being their friends!

- It is inappropriate to ask a woman about her age. But perhaps you’d tell me what your birthday is?

- Which birthday? I have several of them. (Laughs.)

- The real one, not according to the cover story.

- I even have two real birthdays. I was born in September, but in my birth certificate they wrote down that it was October. I come from a Siberian village. And people there believed that the exact date of birth was not that important.

- It is difficult to imagine that the village like that is the birthplace of someone who will later work as an illegal intelligence officer abroad.

- Vasily Shukshin was also born in a Siberian village. But we are from different regions. That even a village girl can become an illegal intelligence officer is a fact. You have a living example before you.

I am proud that I am not a professor’s daughter, for instance, and that I come from a rural area. I remember my childhood well: isolation, post-war poverty, ruin, but such a vibrant desire to live and such a passionate interest in learning! We (the village families) would collect 5 kopecks each in order to buy mittens for someone, or a hat, or boots, so he or she can attend school. And at school we used charcoal to write on newspapers.  

By the way, my husband also came from a poor family. When he studied at MGIMO, he attended lectures in a military jacket and boots that he had inherited from his father, a WWII veteran. His fellow students laughed at him, but he didn’t really care.

When we were children, we didn’t know much about anything. It was so interesting to study. And now children don’t want to. We would buy somebody a hat or mittens, so that they could go to school. And now they are taking the child to school by car, even then he doesn’t want to go. He is still “a nobody,” but he has everything at his disposal.

- You are a medical doctor by training? What can a physician and an intelligence officer have in common?

- Yes, I am really a doctor, an obstetrician-gynecologist by profession. I even worked as a village doctor for a while.

First, they sent me to the taiga. Former convicts with axes in their hand would come to my first-aid post and say: “Give me some alcohol!” But I was not afraid of them. My patients were interesting. One day an elderly man with a thick beard, a painted sash, in a traditional blouse came to see me. He said that his ear hurt. I prescribed him a powder (at that time, pills were rarely used, we often had powders only) and I told him to take it every day. Three days later, he came back: “Young woman, I did everything as you ordered. My ear doesn’t hurt anymore, but I can’t hear anything.” I looked and it turned out that he poured powder into his ear! [Sometimes] I rode a horse to visit my sick patients. Oh, those were the times ... A woman gives birth and I deliver the baby and I am the first to see it! Do you understand? What a joy!

- You talk about your profession with so much love... Why did you leave it behind for the job in the intelligence service?

- If you love somebody, then you will do everything for him. Vitaly chose the career of an intelligence officer first. We were friends since I was 16. But I didn’t find out what his profession was right away. Here is how it happened. We moved to Moscow, got married, and our son was born. Then one day he asked me: “What do you think about living with someone else’s passport?” And I said: “Why do I need someone else’s passport?! I have my own!”

I kept asking the people from the intelligence service: “Tell me, what am I supposed to do?” They wouldn’t tell me anything specific. Later on, I understood why. Had they told me everything right away, I would have been scared. But I would not have said no. I was ready to go even into the fire for my husband. I loved him so much.

But, in general, since I was a child, I realized that you do not live only for yourself. My husband felt the same. When entering the foreign intelligence service, we were not interested in how much money we would make or what benefits we would get. This never even crossed our minds.

- What languages did you study?

- French, English, Spanish... I studied mainly by watching films. That’s the most effective method.

My husband focused on English. Konon Molody came to our house. He taught my husband English swear words. He said: “You must know them! Otherwise, they will swear at you, and you will smile.” The future traitor Gordievsky taught my husband Danish.

The course of study included a lot of things that are still classified. But, in general, we received wartime military training, so we even learned how to plant bombs, how to clear mines, etc. The program included martial arts and rifle training as well. I went through the same exercises that my husband went through. This was done so that I could replace him at any time if need be. But working in tandem was easier and less stressful.

- Do remember your first trip abroad?

- Of course! But at first we went separately. I remember I rented an apartment from a woman who was a local resident and who turned out to be employed by the local intelligence service! I realized this much later and it all happened by accident. Once she said to me: “Let’s have lunch in the cafeteria at my workplace.” I said: “Fine.” I went to the address she indicated, and there was the analogue of our current FSB. It turned out that I stepped right into the lair of the enemy. My husband also had some “adventures” on his first trip, and, after he came back, he told me: “I am never again going by myself.”

“You are doing the procedure wrong”

- What is the most difficult thing in the work of an illegal intelligence officer?

- “Settling down.” You have to settle down in a foreign country, to find your niche. Even if you have a good cover story, all the right documents, and the money for the initial time period, you still have to prove yourself there and get a stable occupation.

- Which one?

- Well, my husband and I enrolled in school, then got jobs. My husband became an engineer, a great specialist in the field of technology. Then he opened several firms in different countries. One of them - can you believe it - is still operational and makes a profit!

- And what did you study? Something related to medicine?

- No, I studied basic bookkeeping and typing and received a diploma. But I always missed medicine very much. Once I almost blew my cover. I had to have a small surgery and I blurted out on the operating table: “You are doing the procedure wrong. That’s not how it’s done.” I immediately justified my statement by saying that I had a friend who was a professor of medicine, and I learned about the correct procedure from her.

- Technical intelligence collection raises a lot of controversy. It means that a country, instead of developing its own scientific potential, uses intelligence officers who “borrow” ready-made scientific discoveries from others.

- “If something is not attached well, why not pick it up?” - said one foreign [non-Russian] intelligence officer. And I agree with him. We save the time and the resources of our own country. And they can then be more profitably directed to something else. You see, it is an eternal cycle.

- Did you get only the documentation or the equipment as well?

- Both. Several times we took with us large bags full of equipment. [For instance] we obtained the first computers. In general, we were able to transport [to the Center] so many valuable things, but we always worried that some of them would end up in the garbage. After all, a lot depends on those who later use this equipment, who make decisions what to do with it.

“Somehow You Kiss like a Russian”

- Were there situations similar to those in the TV series Seventeen Moments of Spring when the narrator says: “Shtirlits has never been so close to failure as now”?

- The risks were constant. Once we went through the passport control at the border and the policeman asked my husband: “What is the name of your wife?” He said my name, but from the previous cover story (which we used on another trip based on different documents). Oh, God, how I pretended to be angry at him! It was so convincing that the policeman himself turned everything into a joke: “Don’t worry,” he said to me “all men are like this, we are all forgetful.”

Once during our wedding ceremony (and we got married several times!) the registrar asked my husband: “What is the last name of the mother of your future wife?” And my husband only remembered the Russian last name. Thank God he stayed silent. He behaved in such a way so that everything could be attributed to his excitement before the ceremony.

But those were all trifles. There were cases when they asked us uncomfortable questions directly. Here are a couple of examples. In one small African country, there was a cafe called “Ali Baba,” whose owner most likely worked for the local intelligence service. In fact, the cafe itself was specially set up so that intelligence agents from different countries would meet there. One day the owner of the café said to my husband: “You are a Russian spy!” Directly, to his face. And my husband replied: “And you are an American spy! So, what’s the problem?” He laughed and never brought up the issue again. One must never lose one’s cool. I realized this right away when I started working in intelligence.

And here’s an anecdote from another country: a wine festival was held at a restaurant, everyone was having a good time, and I drank with a German for eternal brotherhood. He said to me: “You kiss like a Russian.” I quickly replied: “I don’t know how it is with you, Russians, but we, the French, kiss like this.”

- Who were you according to the cover story?

- I had a lot of cover stories. Once we rented an apartment as Spaniards, and the owner had a friend, who was a former French counterintelligence officer. And he decided to test whether we were spies. First, he pretended to thrust into my hands some kind of a red book in Spanish accidentally. I answered him with a tirade in Spanish. He didn’t expect that. Then, he arranged for the second test: he invited a real Spaniard to dinner. I passed that exam as well.

Once we got into a situation on the verge of being exposed and, had it been not for my insolence and daring (in the good sense of these words), we could have been caught. Here’s what happened: In one of the countries, they told us: “Go to your embassy and bring a document that your passport is valid.” The passport was made by our service. It was a Saturday, the end of the working day. We went to “our” embassy. The ambassador came out and I told him a tearful story about how some “bad” people demanded additional papers. He said to me: “Please, don’t get upset, I’ll make them regret what they did to you.” And he himself sat down at the typewriter (everybody had already left) and typed what was needed. And there was also a case about which I will say this: a country changed one of its laws because of me, after I wrote a very touching letter to the government.

“I forgot the password!”

-Some intelligence officers claim that it is safer to work alone than in pairs.

- I don’t think so. It sometimes happens that one intelligence officer gets too carried away and then makes mistakes. The partner can notice that and correct it on time. I would tell my husband: “Do not forget who you really are.” And he repeated the same thing to me.

If my husband and I went to some kind of a cocktail reception, we kept an eye on each other. [For example, we monitored] who approached him, who approached me, what questions they asked us. Then, we analyzed everything together. Once my husband said that the second secretary of an embassy, ​​with whom he had danced, jokingly said while teasing him: “You are not really a Dane!” I insisted that we inform the Center about it. The Center’s reply was: “Never have any contacts with that woman again, she is a spy.”

The Center guides the intelligence officers in the field.  It is like a guardian angel. We can’t know everything. But it also happens sometimes that the Center does not know something. Although this may seem to concern a trifling matter, it nevertheless may lead to exposure.

- For example?

- When we left on our assignment abroad, we were told: “Do not stay in the same hotel room, because, according to your cover story, you are only engaged and not married yet.” Well, we took two separate rooms and immediately fell under suspicion. In that country, this was not the appropriate thing to do.

- Was working as a couple often helpful?

- On one occasion when we carried bags with equipment, we saw a telephone booth, and, for some reason, there was a policeman in it. What was he doing there, who was he calling? Maybe he was waiting for us! We immediately threw away our bags, hugged, and started to kiss. And it all looked so natural.

- Were there also some funny situations?

- Yes, of course. Once when we also had bags full of equipment with us, we were waiting for our contact. We began to worry. The contact came but was silent. Everyone started to get nervous. And then he told us in a pleading voice: “I forgot the password!”

It was also easier to work when having a small child. Imagine this situation: a mother is walking and pushing her baby in a stroller. Who will pay attention to her? Then she wipes her baby’s nose or perhaps gives the baby a pacifier, while, with the other hand, she passes on something to somebody imperceptibly. The husband stays at a distance and makes sure that nobody was watching. So even children can “take part” in intelligence work.

My husband and I developed a special language; we had words which were signals and warnings. When he was awarded a medal by a secret decree, I told him about it using these words. We came home, poured ourselves a drink, and drank it up. We celebrated in this way, without saying a word about the medal.

“While giving birth, I yelled out in French”

- You gave birth abroad. Was there a risk that you would yell out in Russian during childbirth? Remember the episode from the TV series Seventeen Moments of Spring where Shtirlits said to the radio operator Kat: “Are you going to yell out ‘mommy’ in Russian?”

- I gave birth to our second child abroad. I yelled out in French. When on a mission, I made Russian my enemy number one. My husband and I never used it when we were abroad. We even quarreled in a foreign language.

But there were moments when we really missed the Russian language. Then we went to the airport (we knew when the flights from the Soviet Union were arriving) and walked unnoticed behind a group of Russians. How happy we were when they swore in Russian! For us, it was like a music. It was such a relief, it seemed as if we had visited our homeland. I taught myself to think in French. I still see my dreams in that language.

- What was the scariest thing while you lived abroad?

- For me personally, it was scary to get sick. In your homeland, your loved ones will call you an ambulance and will come to the hospital to visit you. Abroad, everything is much more difficult. Once I was admitted to a Catholic hospital in serious condition. I lost consciousness. I opened my eyes and a nun was standing in front of me. I thought: “Lord, I already crossed over.” I lost a lot of blood, and our friends who lived in the neighborhood donated blood for me. So now I have Irish, Australian, and English blood in me.

“Your son is taking ballet lessons”

- Did you take your first son with you on intelligence missions abroad?

- No. We left him here. That caused me the biggest suffering. True, we knew that everything was fine with him, that he was under the supervision of his grandmother. But it was very difficult (Lyudmila Ivanovna cries). I was not even allowed to have his photo with me. And what would they say about him in the radiogram? “At home, everything is all right.” Well, that sounds very general, doesn’t it? Once they wrote: “Your son is taking ballet lessons.” That was something concrete, we could follow his progress in life. We were so happy.

Our second child was born abroad. We returned to Moscow for the first time when he was 4 years old, and at first he cried a lot. He did not speak Russian and did not understand anything. “Where is Coca-Cola? Where did all these relatives come from? Why do they speak in a strange language?!” The children in the neighborhood were saying, “Let’s not take this American spy into our circle.” And I was foolish to translate that for him. He was so upset.

Then I said: “I will join my husband and take the child along.” And I left for another assignment, from which I returned after the betrayal of Gordievsky.

- Do you regret that intelligence work has deprived you of the joys of motherhood?

- There is no point in regretting anything. Once I had a dream that my husband and I were detained and put in jail. We were placed in different cells, but at some point they brought us together for interrogation, and I told him: “It’s so good that the baby is not with us.”

“Gordievsky sold out everything”

- What feelings do you have about Gordievsky? It was because of him that you had to stop doing your work.

- I remember that the Center said: “Both foreign and our journalists are looking for you. Call your relatives to tell them to say that they don’t know you.” Gordievsky even revealed our Moscow telephone number and our address.

He had visited us at home. Later, after his betrayal, I often remembered how I made coffee for him. Recalling this, I wanted to turn back the clock and throw a hot drink in his face. Well, if you don’t like something in your country, you should just leave. Why ruin the lives of others, too?

- Why did he betray you in particular?

- Well, he betrayed everybody he knew. He needed to provide for his livelihood abroad, so he sold out everything and everyone. Then he began to make up stories. And what else could he do? He was paid to provide information. No information, no need of you. And who needs traitors anyway?

- How does he live now, do you know?

- He has a wife and two daughters. But I do not envy such people. That’s not life, but bare existence. He lives in fear all the time. They say that sometimes he is seen with a wig and sometimes with a glued-on mustache and a beard. His eyes are always on the lookout. He lives in constant tension.

- Is there any reason for him to be afraid? [Sergey] Skripal was poisoned.

- What has to be feared is one’s conscience. And why would he [Skripal], well-known by our service, be eliminated? That’s not our method. Once, at an international conference on intelligence, a legendary intelligence officer refused to sit with him on the podium. And he said: “I am not sitting at the same table with traitors.”

The last assassination of a political enemy by our intelligence service was in 1959. There is an unspoken agreement between the countries not to take revenge on the intelligence officers who defect. Well, he got caught, served time, and was freed. And nobody is supposed to go after him.

Can you imagine what level of protection would have to be provided to George Blake, Kim Philby [while he was alive], so that, God forbid, they would not be poisoned? Not so long ago, when Blake had a medical emergency in a Moscow suburb, an article about this appeared in a British newspaper. The point I am trying to make is that he is accessible to the media and gives interviews.

“I was the third after Gorbachev”

- Did you continue working in the intelligence service even after you returned from abroad?

- Yes, but in a different capacity. An interesting point: I was a bit afraid to return. This was a purely psychological matter because I’ve lived so many years abroad. Everyone around us was talking about how horrible the USSR was and that was very difficult on me, although I understood that it was not true. I asked my husband: “What if we did have the villains in power at home and they put us in prison?” And he said: “Redhead, what’s with you, you started to believe the Western media?” We came back and I breathed a sigh of relief.

When I returned, I did not speak Russian well. But that didn’t bother me. By the way, I was busy with the work in the service and with social activities. I was elected to the party committee to represent the interests of women.

In 1989, for the first time in the history of the intelligence service, a woman who was an illegal intelligence officer was appointed to the presidium at the All-Union Congress in honor of March 8. They didn’t even tell me exactly what I was supposed to do, just that I needed to show up at the Bolshoi Theater! I came to the Lubyanka first. I pressed the button: “Where are you going, comrade?” I replied: “To the meeting.” The guard on duty tried to frighten me: “You made a mistake, once you enter here, you won’t come out any time soon.” If he only knew who he was trying to scare, who he was talking to!

The party committee instructed me to sit quietly and try to remain unnoticed. And that I can reveal my identity to one person only if he asked me. Only one person…

- Gorbachev!

- Yes, exactly!

I was seated in such a way so as not to be visible, even though I was the third after Gorbachev. But as the anthem started playing, I stood up, and it looked like as if I was standing behind the podium and giving a speech. When the anthem ended, I sat down, and was not visible again. However, in the morning when I showed up at work, I was summoned to my supervisors right away. “What were you doing at the podium?” And they show me the picture on the front page of the Pravda. We had a good laugh.

There were many very serious things, but there were sometimes funny things, too.

When I retired, I still “remained” in the intelligence service, because one can’t really be a former intelligence officer. But what I missed the most was the opportunity to tell young people about the profession of an intelligence officer, about the people I knew, about my husband, about all those heroes I worked with. Though of course we never forget the motto of our service: “Without the right to glory, for the glory of the State!”