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Donald and Jared Don't F*** with the Russians or the CIA

My brief brush with MI6.

By Felicity HarleyPublished 7 years ago 2 min read
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Oleg Penkovsky executed by the Russians for Treason

Rauri Chisholm who with his wife Janet Chisholm, two of my family’s closest friends when I was growing up, were top agents in MI6 and ran the star British agent Oleg Penkovsky in Moscow in the early 1960s. Penkovsky was the spy whose disclosures sparked the Cuban missile crisis. In fact it was Rauri who recruited me for the Foreign Office, where I served for two years in Iran.

It wasn’t however until I committed a massive faux pas that I found out who Rauri really was, and how he also figured out I had the goods. Whilst visiting his house I went for a walk in the nearby woods where I stumbled upon the Russian Embassy's country retreat. They invited me in for tea and I had a lovely chat with them – watch out Jared those Russians are very, very sneaky.

Recently returned from Russia, Rauri’s wife Janet, a lovely middle class lady who made the greatest spaghetti bolognese, had used her baby’s pram to gather 5,000 documents from Colonel Penkovsky “the spy who perhaps saved the world.” Janet would take her children for a walk in Moscow Park, Penkovsky would go past stop and admire the baby and leave the information in her pram. Onlookers would only see a friendly guy putting a box of sweets into the pram, but those sweets contained all the details of the soviet nuclear arsenal. These included hundreds of photographs taken at the Soviets’ May Day parades and top-secret field manuals. When the CIA consulted these, they came across a manual for the Soviets’ R-12 MRBM, designated the SS-4 by NATO forces. Bingo, they hit the jackpot, Gary Powers had just photographed those same missiles in Western Cuba. This meant the Soviets had missiles on Cuba that could strike the United States anywhere between Dallas and Washington. The blast at Hiroshima had been the equivalent of around 14,000 tons of TNT; the SS-4 carried a one-megaton nuclear warhead, which would create a blast equivalent to around 1 million tons of TNT. Well blow me down.

Once I was of age, at twenty one, Rauri pounced. He had me to tea at a quiet Gentleman’s Club in Whitehall, and well my short career began. While I was in Iran he often passed through using different pseudo names and we’d touch base.

The world Jared and Donald have blundered into is a serious business-I know that first hand. Our lives depend on the work that the brave men and woman of FBI and the CIA do-think North Korea, China and Russia.

So ya two slick know-it-all business real estate developers from New York, back off, forget the war room and take some advice from Mick Jagger and me.

“Well, you've got your diamonds and you've got your pretty clothesAnd the chauffeur drives your carYou let everybody knowBut don't play with (THOSE RUSSIANS OR THE CIA), 'cause you're playing with fire.”
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About the Creator

Felicity Harley

Felicity Harley is a polished public speaker, published journalist, and writer. Along with her career as a nonprofit executive, she served for twenty years on the board of Curbstone Press, an internationally recognized publishing house.

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