According to German prosecutors, Andreas Anschlag's path to the assignment led through the Austrian town of Wildalpen. A lawyer showed up there in October 1984 to register Anschlag, allegedly born in Argentina in 1959, as a new resident in the village of 500 people. The application was approved, even though all the documents were forged. The KGB paid the local official a bribe of 3,000 Austrian shillings, or about €200 ($260), for approving the application. Anschlag's wife Heidrun had the attorney submit a birth certificate indicating that she had been born to an Austrian woman in Lima, Peru in 1965. There is much to suggest that the two were already married when they said their wedding vows a second time at a registry office in Austria.
Shortly after applying for their Austrian passports, the Anschlags moved to Aachen in western Germany. Andreas studied mechanical engineering, and in 1991 the couple's daughter was born. Officially, Heidrun tended to the household and their daughter, while her husband worked in an ordinary job. In truth, the two had already been spying for Moscow for some time, as a radio message from 1988 shows. The couple moved several times until they ended up in Michelbach, an idyllic suburb of the university city of Marburg in 2010. For appearances, Andreas Anschlag took a job with an automotive supplier 350 kilometers (217 miles) away and rented an apartment there. This enabled him to explain his long absences to curious neighbors.
In their dispatches, which the couple received with a shortwave radio, the agent controllers in Directorate S of the SWR referred to the Anschlags as "Pit" and "Tina." They were given the state-of-the-art satellite equipment during a trip to St. Petersburg and Moscow. They also attended a course on the use of a decoding program called "Sepal" and an encoding program called "Parabola."
This enabled "Pit" and "Tina" to establish a secure connection to Moscow. All they had to do was pay attention to the times when one of the six to eight satellites sent into space by Russian intelligence for spying activities came into range. A red light on their radio device signaled to the Anschlags that the satellite was approaching, while a blue light indicated the transmission of encoded messages.
Sometimes, when the equipment failed, the Anschlags placed the transmitter below one of their attic windows, among the fruit trees in the garden or on a nearby hill. The hills directly behind the house proved to be unsuitable, because nearby wind turbines apparently interrupted communication with the satellite.
According to the indictment, what the Anschlags sent over the air or deposited in dead drops was primarily information and documents stemming from a Dutch government official. His rank at the foreign ministry was not particularly high, so that the Russians had little to fear from the Dutch counterterrorism agency. However, the official, Raymon Valentino Poeteray, who was sentenced to 12 years in prison by a Dutch court in April, provided them with plenty of material about the European Union and NATO.
While the Dutch foreign ministry was apparently unaware that one of its officials had a side job, the German authorities, acting on a tip from Austria, tracked down the Anschlags. But the Russians realized that the agents' cover was in jeopardy and ordered the couple to return home. First they had to dismantle the satellite system and throw the pieces into a deep body of water, though. The agents began preparing for their escape, but the Germans intervened on the night of Oct. 16, capturing Anschlag in his second apartment and confiscating the keys to his home in Michelbach. A unit with the GSG 9 special force then used the key to open the front door early the next morning and crept up the stairway. When they reached the top floor, they caught Heidrun Anschlag radioing with Moscow. She was so startled that she fell off her chair. She claimed that she was "only responsible for technical matters."
After initial denials, the couple fell silent. That is, until last Tuesday, when the two, speaking through their attorneys, admitted the obvious: that they were spies working for Moscow.
Following the couple's sentencing, the German government wants to exchange Andreas and Heidrun Anschlag for Valery Mikhailov, a former colonel with the Russian domestic intelligence agency FSB who spied for the CIA. After the Anschlags were arrested, a US delegation informed the Chancellery that it was interested in a deal. The German government would like to do the Americans the favor, but it also wants to secure the release of an interpreter who occasionally supplied information to the BND, Germany's foreign intelligence service. The Federal Public Prosecutor's Office indicated that it would have no problem agreeing to an exchange after sentencing. Now it's up to Putin to decide whether to sacrifice his spies or bring them home.
For Moscow, the arrest of the two extensively trained agents isn't the only bitter disappointment in recent years. Since SWR agent Sergei Tretyakov, a.k.a. "Comrade J," defected to the United States in 2000, the counterterrorism authorities in the West have captured a number of Russian agents and their informants. They include Herman Simm, former head of the Estonian National Security Authority, whose cover was blown in 2008. A classified NATO report describes Simm as the "most damaging spy in the history of the alliance." Another case that made headlines worldwide was the discovery of an 11-member group led by Anna Chapman in June 2010.
These successes are often attributable to defectors from the Russian ranks. The man who betrayed Chapman and her group also told the authorities about the use of Latin American covers, as in the case of the Anschlags from Michelbach.
"Pit" and "Tina" probably aren't the last agents Moscow has operating in Germany. The investigations in Austria indicated that there are other spies, although they could have disappeared by now. And the radio messages to agents, directed at Western Europe, continue. This is one reason that security officials assume that a number of Russian spies, probably in the double digits, are still operating undetected on German soil.
The next question will be whether the Russian government is still interested in the agent exchange the German government offered more than a year ago. Then Prime Minister Vladimir Putin met personally with a German envoy at the Kremlin, who he then rebuffed. Putin's aim was probably to discover how much the Germans had learned about Russian espionage methods. Now that the case has been tried in a court, Putin will have to reconsider, though.
By Guylain Gustave Moke