Biohazard

"Perhaps there are questionable activities going on," one conceded, "but for the moment, diplomacy requires us to keep silent."

Buyers and Sellers

In the summer of 1995, I received a call from a man who introduced himself as a representative of the government of South Korea. Explaining that he had been given my name by a mutual friend, he said he needed my help urgently. We met at a crowded open-air cafe in Bethesda, Maryland.

He was courteous and friendly and came to the point at once.

"Your knowledge is extremely valuable to us," he said. "You could make a lot of money telling us what we need to know. We would like to invite you to Seoul."

When I asked him what "knowledge" he was interested in, he told me his government had evidence of a biological warfare program under way in North Korea, which has been trying to destroy its southern neighbor for the past four decades.

"We've had to worry about their army and their nuclear weapons and their saboteurs," he said. "Now we need to learn how to defend ourselves against this biological threat. You can be certain your help will be well rewarded. The South Korean minister of defense is a close personal friend."

I suggested he apply for my services through official channels in Washington, pointing out that I was still under some obligation to those who had helped me escape from Russia. He shrugged this off. Seoul and Washington were close allies, he said. No one would mind. I insisted, and never heard from him again.

South Korea was not the only country to ask for my help. I was approached by a member of the French embassy after delivering a lecture in Boston in mid-199 8. He invited me to lunch with embassy officials in Washington to discuss "biodefense issues." I told him it was a sensitive subject and asked him to send a formal letter to the research and development company where I now work. No letter appeared. A similar request came from a friend with connections to the government of Israel.

Growing fears of a biological attack by a hostile neighbor or a terrorist group have created a booming mini-industry of biodefense consultants. Biodefense requires knowledge of the capabilities of pathogenic agents, their means of delivery, and potential effects. This knowledge is also the key to developing offensive weapons. I evaded these requests in part because I didn't want to turn into an unwitting conduit for new bioweapons work. Fortunately, I had an alternative — a job I liked — and my family was well taken care of. But the monetary rewards for cooperation would have been high.

The services of an ex-Biopreparat scientist would be a bargain at any price. The information he could provide would save months, perhaps years, of costly scientific research for any nation interested in developing, or improving, a biological warfare program. It is impossible to know how many Russians have been recruited abroad, but there is no doubt that their expertise has been attracting bidders. At least twenty-five former specialists in the Soviet Union's biological warfare program are now in the United States. Many more have gone to Europe and Asia or have simply dropped out of sight. I've heard that several went to Iraq and North Korea. A former colleague, now the director of a Biopreparat institute, told me that five of our scientists are in Iran. The New York Times reported in December 1998 that the Iranian government dispatched a "scientific advisor" attached to the office of I he presidency to Moscow to recruit former scientists from our program. In May 1997, more than one hundred scientists from Russian laboratories, including Vector and Obolensk, attended a Biotechnology Trade Fair in Tehran. Sandakchiev told me soon after that Iranians had visited Vector a number of times and were actively promoting scientific exchanges. Last year, Top Secret reported that a Biopreparat official turned up at the Chinese embassy in Moscow to offer his services.

The disastrous economic conditions in Russia have driven many of our brightest scientists and technicians to seek work wherever they can get it. In some labs, scientists haven't been paid for months. I know of one leading researcher who sold flowers on the Arbat Mall in Moscow to feed his family.

The West is worried, with good reason, about lax security at Soviet nuclear installations. The vulnerability of our biological arsenal should also raise concern. A vial of freeze-dried powder takes up less space than a pack of cigarettes and is easy to smuggle past an inattentive guard. It happened when I was at Biopreparat, when security was at its peak. Biological agents once kept secure in government facilities are rumored to be circulating freely in the Russian criminal underworld.