Sergei Kourdakov, a former KGB agent and Soviet naval intelligence officer, defected from the USSR at the age of twenty. A year later we met at my Federal Government office in Washington DC. We were watched and followed. “Even you could be spy,” Sergei whispered. My book, A Rose for Sergei, is the true story of our time together.

Monday, June 23, 2014

Chapter 1 (Part 1)



A Rose for Sergei

Chapter 1
(Part 1)


Fall 1972

“Excuse me; I would like to go to the men’s…how do you say in America…restroom?” Sergei asked in his broken English.  “Is that the right way to say that?”

“Yes, that is the right way; you could also say men’s room.  And it’s okay to excuse yourself,” I said.  “It isn’t rude.  I’ll be fine sitting alone a few minutes at the table until you return,” I assured him as I smiled and tried to restrain from laughing.  He was so incredibly polite.  The way he spoke, his broken English combined with his Russian accent, could be very amusing at times.

We were having dinner at the JW Steakhouse at the Key Bridge Marriott in Arlington, Virginia.  My date was Sergei Kourdakov.  He was twenty-one years old, and he had defected from the Soviet Union over a year ago.  He had been a member of the KGB, the Commissariat for State Security or secret police, and a Soviet naval intelligence officer—intimidating credentials for sure.  He was also very good looking, which I found even more intimidating.

I worked as a secretary at the Office of Information for the Armed Forces, a division that came under the Office of the Secretary of Defense.  I was also twenty-one years old.  We had recently met at my office in Rosslyn, Virginia.  Sergei had flown in from Los Angeles and was meeting with Government Officials in Washington DC.  Sergei’s incredible story was making headlines in the United States.  Future plans were being considered for Sergei to record/broadcast his story in another section of our office, the American Forces Radio and Television Service.  My boss was the liaison officer tasked with assisting Sergei.

As Sergei got up from the table and sauntered off in search of the men’s room, I could see that all eyes in the restaurant were on him.  Both men and women stared at him, even the wait staff.  I was not surprised at their seemingly awestruck reaction.  He was very tall with huge broad shoulders and muscular arms that strained at the seams of his shirt, the result of years of body-building.  His stride was confident, purposeful, and he definitely commanded attention.  He stood out in any crowd.



Chapter 1 - to be continued next week!

Coming Soon!



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