Page 41 of The Collector
Sergei Morosov nodded in agreement. “Poor Magnus came to Moscow in search of Russian riches, and by the time he left he was burned to a crisp and fully under our control.”
The FSB transferred the Magnus Larsen account to the SVR, which put the oil executive to good use. The Collector became an invaluable source of business intelligence, especially regarding future trends in the Western energy industry. He also provided the SVR with entrée to the highest levels of Western society and government, and pointed out numerous potential targets for recruitment and kompromat.
“He became a real self-starter, did Magnus. That’s the beauty of kompromat. If someone is truly burned, you never have to remind them of their past transgressions. They do anything to stay in your good graces.”
“Have you never tried to convince an asset that your system is better than your adversary’s? That you are alone in a dangerous world and in need of their help?”
“I seem to recall that you employed a different approach when it came to my recruitment.”
“You were a defector.”
“Of the mailed-fist variety,” said Morosov. “As for ideological recruitments, they went out of fashion with the end of the Cold War.Who in their right mind would willingly work on behalf of a country like Russia? We have two means of recruitment available to us. Kompromat and money. And in the case of Magnus Larsen, they went hand in hand.”
“How?”
The Kremlin put its thumb on the scale of the RuzNeft deal, explained Morosov, and made certain it paid dividends for DanskOil’s shareholders—and for Magnus personally. Not surprisingly, the Danish oil executive became one of Russia’s most vocal advocates in the West. He said Europe had nothing to fear from its growing dependence on Russian energy or from Russia’s tough-talking president, whom Magnus praised at every turn as a statesman who was leading his country out of its backward, repressive past and into a democratic future.
“As it turned out, Vladimir Vladimirovich was listening. He entertained Magnus at the Kremlin and at his various private residences, including his dacha west of Moscow. Because Magnus spoke Russian fluently, there was no need for a translator. He became one of Volodya’s closest non-Russian friends. Not a member of the inner ring, mind you, but he was definitely part of Volodya’s universe.”
“How did he use him?”
“Mainly as a sounding board and adviser. But he also asked Magnus to carry out, how shall we say, sensitive assignments involving matters of Russian national security.”
“What sort of matters?”
“The kind of jobs where Magnus’s Danish passport and impeccable Danish manners were advantageous. He became Volodya’s private emissary in everything but name. And when he got into trouble, it was Volodya who got him out of it.”
“What happened?”
“Magnus got mixed up with another girl.”
“In Moscow?”
“Denmark.”
“How did Volodya help him?”
“He put his thumb on the girl,” said Morosov. “And the girl vanished without a trace.”
She was in her twenties, and Danish. Otherwise, Sergei Morosov knew nothing about her, including her name or the circumstances by which she ended up in a sexual relationship with the CEO of one of Denmark’s largest companies. At some point—Morosov couldn’t say when—she wanted out. She also wanted a significant amount of money to ensure her silence. Magnus agreed to pay. And when the girl came back for more, he raised the matter with his SVR handler, who told Magnus not to give it another thought.
“Death solves all problems,” said Gabriel. “No girl, no problem.”
“In Russia, this sort of behavior isn’t necessarily frowned upon. A lot of girls who get mixed up with powerful men end up in the ground.”
“Where did our nameless Danish girl end up?”
“I am not privy to the details, Allon. All I know is that she’s still classified as a missing person.”
“Who handled it?”
“The SVR. But the order came directly from the state president.”
“I’m glad we cleared that up.”
“Try to see it from Volodya’s point of view.”
“Do I have to?”
