The
address was: NaStudio, ul. Vishnevskogo 11-17,
197022 Saint-Petersburg, Russia (НаСтудио,
ул.Вишневского, 11-17, г.Санкт-Петербург, Россия)
I wasn't aware
of it at the time but the other Russian address I found there also
houses captives. I did not visit
the other during my time in Russia
which was: TCS Productions 240 19 Pushkinskaya Street,
Saint-Petersburg, 189620 Russia (240 19
ул. Пушкинская, Санкт-Петербург, 189620 Россия).
Speaking to
outsiders in the hope of rescue would bring
floggings, beatings, electrocution, & starvation.
Persistence would
result in
the deaths of family members & their children,
but not usualy their own, unless while making a run for it outside,
during transfer. NaStudio have a stabbing policy for anyone running
away between buildings.
Also persistent 'trouble makers' are trafficked by a company
called Alla
escort
to
Japanese cities like Osaka & Tokyo.
They can be found with a thorough & surprise search of 'Seventh
heaven',
or
'Private Eyes'
/ 'One-eyed
Jack', where they might be dancing under guard, through the 'Miss
Platinum' escort agency or at a hotel within easy walking distance,
transfered under armed escort, where they will sleep & be
prostituted. The deeper I dig
for trafficking in Tokyo the more names are coming up, many operating
in the Roppongi
district
of Tokyo, Japan
has
one of the worst sexual slavery reputations in the world & has
been threatened with US sanctions. Japan
is as I've said a punishment, I've heard one report of a girl denied
water until she would drink dog urine & perform oral sex on the dog
for internet porn. In Japan they are sometimes also locked away in
lower profile prisons away from the city. Because I've been campaigning
for so
long it is now difficult for me to communicate with authorities
discreetly. I've been having the trouble that although I often hear
when the Trafficking takes place & sometimes the destintion, I tell
the
authorities but the girls have been hidden away until the heat dies
down.I found it at first surprising that it was possible
to contain captives in a hotel, but it is common even across the EU to
see slaves in hotels & even on the streets, apparantly free to go
if they wished. This is not the case. As you'll read here there is a
system can be used which can almost totaly prevent anyone running
without being followed, & being followed would almost certainly
result in a stabbing. I hear the main reason the
seemingly free comply,
is that their families back home, in lawless countries will be killed
if they go. The girls I have been dealing with are locked away &
kept under guard, because being victims of such extreme human rights
abuses they would run at any opportunity. The image to the left is one
such girl who has lost her family one by one for
resistance Veranika
Akimova. pornication.com/privatefeeds.com
was where I initially met with captives. Also 
though, they are working ifriends,
Livejasmin, I'm live,
or just about any cam girl site of the type. Their images also appear
on sites like adultfriendfinder.com the same pictures not unusualy
appearing with different names & profiles. The market for these
kinds of sites & Internet porn in general is cornered by Mafia.
Imprisonment, torture, murder & corruption are standard modes of
operation. On many of the streaming cam websites one girl is typically
shown under several different chat names at any
one time. Some of the
girls are free, some only so for the moment. Most are captive.
ifriends, livejasmin.com, privatefeeds are showing heavily pregnant
girls, they are prisoners & those children born which
are not
executed for their mothers seeking help will be prisoners also. A
search I did in 2004 revealed an interview with an unashamed Mafia boss
of some kind talking about his purchase of ifriends ('start-ups' these
days often begin as Mafia owned & companies with an unofficial
relationship to larger ones, they change hands between different
groups, bought up if they prove successful) & describing how
he had silenced someone who had been going around telling people that
they shouldn't use his services, not by 'breaking his arms' but by
calling him on the phone. I've tried to locate that since but I've been
unable to. It's my experience that anti-Mafia web pages which pose a
threat are as often hacked & deleted as not, & if the source is
persistent they are targeted to prevent further posts. This was part
reason for my mass forum postings, I've had my posts interfered
with/deleted many times. The same captives can be found spamming the
yahoo chat rooms with porn links. The adult rooms are especially thick
with them. If you try to converse with one their jailers will likely
tell you they are a 'bot', & they might periodically enquire "any
real women in here?". They are very human. As time went by I discovered
that yahoo are a largely Mafia owned company, & that the owners of
NaStudio are at the same time working for Yahoo!. There is a simple test you can perform. Go from one Yahoo! room to another stating that Yahoo! is owned by Mafia. There are Mafia guards in I think all rooms & your IP will be blocked quickly (so you may want to use a proxy if you intend to go back) Yahoo! are not
entirely Mafia run, Microsoft
have shares in them, but it is a huge problem they have & captive
workers are not peculiar to Russia. You can read about their
indiscriminate management structure facilitating organised criminal
involvement here,
or some of their other Mafia activity here.
The children born in captivity are allowed to be born because they are
used for Internet pornography & are often born with serious STDs
like Hepatitis. I've encountered at least one former KGB agent in Mafia
employ. My main sources of information are captive women, SOCA, and
brainless
Mafia employees, in that order.
I was weary
when I arrived, but couldn't wait until the next day before I saw the
address Id come to see. When I got there I stood at the front of an
old, partly stone building on a corner (No.30), it had double doors and
keypad entry. I stood there feeling as if I was in the correct place,
but NaStudio was around the corner. What I didn't know at the time was
that I was stood at a building housing girls that I'd been in contact
with. I went to the multistory building identified as NaStudio by a
small plaque at one of its two entrances. It appeared to be closed.
Enough for one day.Over
the next few days I did
walk-bys. First I went from southern end of Vishnevskogo to north. I
noticed a character stood at the southern end, he looked as if he was
up to no good. I went past the NaStudio forecourt & as I approached
the first building I had visited when I arrived the one with the stone
features on the corner (No.30) a man in his early twenties with goatee beard came
& stood opposite it, leant on the railings of the Karpovka river
which flowed by, & smiled up at a window. A girl came out of the
building & met him. They both headed past me towards NaStudio
walking slowly in conversation. The man looked cheerful, the girl
deeply depressed. I thought the reason for the drawn out walk could
well be that it was the only opportunity the girl ever got to be
outside.
Next I decided to go in, in faith that I'd be all right. I walked into the left hand entrance. It led to a reception area to my left, an office ahead, & a stairway leading upward between. I smiled at the reception girl 'NaStudio?' I said. She said something in Russian, I asked if she spoke English. She motioned that she couldn't understand what I was saying. To me she looked scared, perhaps I did, & it was a reaction to that, I don't know, I didn't think I had. A man came down from the stairway looking surprised and interested. I could've tried speaking to him, but I didn't like the look of him very much. It was about 8pm when I tried the other entrance. It was Keypad entry with intercom. I spoke into the intercom to a mature sounding lady who again didn't speak English, she seemed to find our exchange amusing. After a minute or two a man in a suit walked up to the door. I asked him if he spoke English. "Yes" he replied politely, to my relief. I said I wanted to spend some time with a girl. "Sure", he said, "what flat number?"
I
told him I didn't know which
flat, I gave him the real name of one of the girls from pornication.
"OK" he says, then craned his neck forward to see what my carrier bag
contained. I opened it up obligingly. The plan was to escape with a
girl using a concealed weapon, one who I could identify as a captive.
He typed a number into the keypad
& led the way in.
Inside were a lift & a staircase which led up. We took the stairs a short way up, past flats with thick metal security doors of a standard you'd expect to see on a large safe, until we arrived at one with a spy hole. He made a call on his mobile phone & the door was opened by a man shorter than myself, but broad & powerful looking. Shirt off, he resembled a medieval jailer. Unlike the man in the suit, he didn't look friendly at all. The suited man went inside asking me to wait where I was. Some time went by & I became jittery I went out to a shop around the corner to get some beer. I don't know how I thought I'd get back in, but as I arrived back at the door a young girl was approaching it ahead of me. The door swung closed very slowly, & I reached it & went back to where I'd been waiting. It seemed that some were arriving of their free will. I supposed that's likely how it would begin (that turned out to sometimes be the case, although I found this site luring those interested in learning Indian sexual massage techniques). I knocked on the jailer's door. He opened looking at me in an aggressive fashion, standing deliberately beyond my reach, & poised to slam the thick door quickly should the need arise. I asked if he had a bottle opener. "Net", he said bluntly, then closed the door. I was later to be told that this is the man whose job it was to flog the girls if they were caught speaking of their captivity to outsiders. The suited man emerged cheerfully, I offered him one of my beers, but he declined & pleasantly said goodbye. I waited there for three hours before I finally accepted I wasn't going to be allowed to see anyone & went back to my hotel. While I'd been waiting, on the half hour I could hear the entrance door open, & a male & female would enter chatting, this happened three or four times. They would get into the lift & travel to the floors high above.
I did some walking past & some hanging around, but I was unable to see any further girl transfers. One evening I sat where they would pass with a bottle of beer & the hood of my coat up, but they had me moved on by a policeman, who then went inside to speak to them. Another evening I went a short distance into an alley from where it was possible to see the entrance to NaStudio, there was someone skulking in the darkness so I went out. I went up this alleyway a different evening, this time it was empty. I looked around a bit in the courtyard it led to. A weedy looking young man came in after me laughably trying to intimidate. Another evening I walked around the rear alley of NaStudio to have a look around. The man I'd seen hanging around on the first day appeared at the alley entrance protesting at my presence there, I went up to speak to him but he'd hid somewhere or skulked off. I'd first booked into Hotel Moskva, which was miles away, I was walking & would often get back very late. There would be a group of weary looking prostitues in the lobby in the early hours, I was a bit disgusted at the time, but of course I know now that they would not be free to go. I went to the cheaper LDM hotel a short walk from NaStudio. It was opposite a police headquarters, there were twenty to thirty police cars parked outside. That's handy, I thought, but the short distance led to my very easy location.
Beyond the Karpovka river, on the other side of the street was a derelict building (No.43). I gained access to it via some kind of delivery hatch at its rear, into a basement. I crept slowly up its staircase, there was a light on a couple of floors above. I moved up slowly & quietly. When I got to the light It was a bare bulb in the stairway, as I'd thought, just on to deter would-be intruders. There was a table & chair there. On the table was a syringe in a plastic container which contained engine oil. Leaning against double doors was a shovel. The message bold enough, if we catch you sleeping in here we'll inject you with oil & bury you. No prizes for guessing who owned this building. I went over rubble to the top floor with an excellent view of the street with the old corner building. It was a very good vantage point. I watched all evening & into the early hours. Every half hour on the half hour lookouts would appear in the streets & alleyways below. A man would arrive & look up at the window, of the corner building, as I'd seen before. Then either a girl would be sent out to them, or they would leave after about five minutes. They were being led to & from NaStudio, & between the other large buildings within view (No.s 26, 30 & 32).
They seemed to own the whole area. Sometimes a man or large woman with a dog would be sent across the street first. I later learned that the dog was supposed to be trained to stop them running. I thought that must be a bluff, the dogs looked too old & soppy to me. The mood of transfer was no longer relaxed, the escort was running ahead far enough to turn the key to the lock & open the door at the arrival of the girl. Reducing time on the street by a few moments. An ambulance showed up at the corner building which seemed to drop someone off or take someone on board, I couldn't see because it was obscuring the doorway. I'd see this ambulance again in Vishnevskoko ul. overlooking transfer another evening. I wished I had a van, I could leap out & drive off with one of them. I had some money but I had no clue where to purchase a van, things were done very differently in Russia to England, nobody spoke English away from the touristy areas. I thought I might move into this building, however I was somehow spotted from a window opposite on the first night. This was surprising because I was looking through two panes of dirty glass with no light on & they were some distance away. I was bored waiting for activity in the street below & was scanning the rooms for clues to whether this building was involved. In a window directly opposite mine (No.28) there was an amused looking man, & behind him a horrified looking woman. I guessed they'd thought they'd caught a pervert. Time to go.
I returned to the derelict building the next day. I climbed through the hatch, a little concerned that the lid which stayed up well with its rusted hinges before was now moving very freely. Also a curtain had twitched at a nearby flat as I'd made my way through the broken fence. I wasn't happy with the way things were going. Once I was inside I heard a loudish noise from upstairs. I thought to myself that I'd been there for hours the previous evening & hadn't heard a thing. It seemed to me somebody hearing my entrance was trying to avoid a confrontation by scaring me off. I left & didn't go back there again. It seemed then that the man who saw me at the window that night mentioned it to Mafia, meaning another huge building almost certainly belonged to them, it was looking like the whole block & beyond. I went to the rear of one of the smaller buildings involved (No.32) to where I'd seen a girl I knew being taken. There was a doorway which I pulled open. Inside was the fuse box & electrical main switch. I planned to return & sabotage the electrics. I returned that night to find one of their puny lookouts inside, who awoke when I opened the door. I smiled & said hello, he sat up bleary eyed. I closed the door & went. Another evening I was in the darkness of the alley which overlooked NaStudio entrance when a middle aged man in a woolly hat saw me. I'd seen this man before overseeing girl transfer with the dogs & at the NaStudio entrance. He was facing me, he began to use his mobile phone & looked up at the window of the room where I'd met the jailer, who wasn't answering, to woolly hat's frustration. I Went home.
The next evening I was pretty demoralised. It just wasn't coming together. If I was in the street anywhere near the place they wouldn't bring anyone out. I'd only managed to see a girl I recognised once. I knew I couldn't go back there the next evening, so about the time I'd usually leave I went instead to the front of the hotel with a bottle of my favourite Russian beer 'Stepan Razin'. It was a lovely evening. Instead of walking on as I usually would when I came out of the entrance, I turned & sat on a wall. As I turned I saw an adrenaline rushed man come light footed from the side of the hotel in my direction. He had both his hands stuffed into his coat pockets, & was tense. He stopped in his tracks about four or five meters away as soon as I saw him, quickly turning his head to one side avoiding eye contact. It was very obvious he was going to knife me from behind had I not turned. It looked as though he was clutching knives tightly in both hands inside the pockets of his 3/4 length black leather coat. This seemed the standard item of clothing for Russian men, as long boots were for the women. I wondered if part reason was that it's difficult to stab through leather. I had the bottle in my hand. He didn't look up as I half circled him back into the hotel. This was my first experience of an Assassin, the first of many I'd see, who like this one would generally completely lose interest when they couldn't sneak up on me. Assassins to me are the biggest cowards with the coldest hearts. I was very surprised that he was going to do what he was doing with a police headquarters overlooking the scene. It shows just how bad corruption is in the area, that he felt he'd get away with it anyway. They'd prove very much more cautious when I left Russia. Next day I was met out front safely by a cab & moved to another hotel.
I'd seen the corruption problem in Russia first hand, I'd been there just 3 weeks but had twice been robbed by police. I'd been told that jobs in politics & security attracted people who knew there was money in bribery & wanted to be a part of it. What usualy happens is that they tolerate organised crime through greed & fear. Having visited the offices of a major Moscow newspaper, (where I'd heard there was a brave reporter who was famously persecuted for publicly declaring the corruption of the Ministry of the Interior) & had the promise of a letter passed to a governor I left the country for Tallinn, happy that things were turning out OK. Although a nice place I became bored waiting for good news. With finances also dwindling & knowing returning to NaStudio would achieve nothing, I started walking south. I'd stop at Internet cafes along my way to do some sly talking in the Yahoo! chat rooms with captives that I knew. I'd do it once & then be on my way for a week. Doing that used to draw the attention of those monitoring then I'd be gone so that there was nothing for them to see. A few months down the road I became concerned that investigation into NaStudio appeared to be going rather slowly. I Sent an email to President Putin, & wrote a letter that I would post once I was over the border with Poland, so I wouldn't be intercepted by Mafia approaching a crossing point, I'd change direction a bit when I was across. That'll get things moving I thought. The Yahoo! chat rooms had become full of Mafia pretending to be girls I knew, with female chat names & using phrases similar to ones used by the girls, they were asking me where I was, trying to find common ground for chat from information gathered from friends. They were obvious, they would come to me in a girl's clothes & expect me to kiss them. ICQ chat was full of impostors too, although I'd never used it before. I could see that my girls were also there performing their spamming duties. The enemy would also be in the Christian Yahoo! rooms raking for me.
I stopped off at a town with Internet access & did some preparation for renewed assault on NaStudio. I found contact details for about 1000 attendees from around the world of an anti trafficking conference. Since so many countries were listed on the 2257 document, I would write to all of them asking them to help if they could. I worked out that at the current rate of disinterest, if I wrote to 1000 at least 20 people would reply eager to help. I had written to very many organisations & received only a few replies, but as it turned out they were processing the information, passing it on. They should have replied though I thought. How was I supposed to overcome a failure if I wasn't kept informed of what had & hadn't been done? I logged into Yahoo! chat & spoke with captives half leaving email in my account to be read, & half making comments in the chat room in pleasingly fluid yet cryptic conversation. I was told not to do it because word of such a mass mailing would cause retribution. I was later to find out that the next day one of the girls had been stabbed trying to make a run for it. The cut was clean however, & she made a recovery. I was right about the dog, it didn't do anything.
I arrived in Warsaw 5th Nov 2004. I found an Internet cafe in a shopping centre not too far from my hotel & was happily sending email to the girls in Russia for a couple of days. One day as I descended the Escalator to the Internet/centre toilets/car park entrance area, two men at a single computer stood out. They looked Russian, dull worn black clothing, 3/4 length black leather jacket on one of them, generally looking as if they'd no money, no western style to their hair. It was unusual to see them here, so I took a look at their computer screen as I passed by. They were using Yahoo! chat. One looked totally spooked about something, the other who was doing the typing looked shifty, & familiar. I gave them a warm smile as I drew their attention, booked in for an hour, & sat down at a computer. The shifty guy got up, spoke to the girl at the counter, & then he & his companion left. He returned my smile in the reflection of my computer screen as he passed by. What had he said to the girl? it was prepay, use & leave. I logged into my my mailbox, it was empty, I was used to having a reply waiting for me. What was wrong? . I realised who the shifty one was, & my stomach turned. I knew those narrowed eyes. It was my would-be assailant from outside the St. Petersburg hotel.
As I traveled back to my hotel I passed two others. Both had a young male in the street eyes fixed on the hotel entrance. This caused me concern. When I arrived at my hotel there was a group of young lads hanging around a short distance from the entrance, showing far too much interest in me. I got inside & immediately shaved off my beard. I had to go out, get to an Internet cafe in town, & warn the girls that I knew we'd been rumbled. I put on my other coat & went out, the group of lads had gone, great! No, there they were, in the next street. One of them looked, then quickly turned his head & held the gaze of one of his companions, neither said anything. I passed them. I found an Internet cafe I hadn't used before & I sent a mail in purple, which meant trouble, & 'write to me now & then!' in red, which meant 'no'. I logged into Yahoo! chat. There was a warning there for me, the chat name 'Midnight tears', a reference to my former chat name 'Midnight express', it was subtle as always, necessarily, but in the light of what was happening it was clear. I sent another mail that I'd about done shopping & that I was at the train station. Both statements true, but I wasn't going anywhere. I didn't go back to my hotel that night. I remembered That in St. Petersburg the guy had only hung around outside the hotel one day. I returned to the hotel in the early daylight hours of Sunday morning. I was sure nobody was watching. Inside I went to sleep, & didn't leave the Hotel that day.
When the time came I went to another Internet cafe in the city, one which was difficult to observe, it was beneath ground among the tunnels, & there were security men thick on the ground, who looked as if they had a keen eye for suspicious circumstances. I went to my mailbox to find many more messages than I was used to, & the coding was revised which was suspicious because I'd not so long ago got annoyed with them for the complexity & frequent revision of the code, which would take hours to decipher & often not make sense when put through Russian to English translation software. If they were caught they'd surely force them to reveal what It said anyway. I would need to visit a guest book site to retrieve the new. Also there were lots of Emails attempting to tempt me to follow links. I took them as attempts to obtain my IP address. One I had no reason to disbelieve said that the sender had been made an example of. Another read that one had been severely electrocuted, probably with a tazer of some kind. I felt foolish for my too obvious 'I'm outta here' response to warning.
I later went back into town. The British consulate was safest. That wouldn't be watched. It would normally have been closed by this time, but there was some kind of meeting going on upstairs, & young people were leaving in twos and threes. I went in past them, all the public PCs downstairs were off, and the lights out. I went up the stairs in the direction the people were coming from & found a public computer which was on, but had no Internet access. Nearby was an open plan office. I went in & sat at a desk. The staff computers had been left on, just the monitors were off. I sent an email to say that I was still in town, that I had run short of money & was waiting for someone to put some into my account before I left. I hoped this would cheer up my pursuers, & cause them to leave my friends alone. The security guard came by a couple of times looking at me in an odd way, but didn't say anything.
No problems back at the hotel. The staff didn't speak English, but I managed to inform them that they should not tell anyone I was there. One day I passed by the entrance to the shopping centre with the Internet cafe where I had seen the Russian Assassin & picked up an obvious tail. A young man who reacted to my approach began to follow me up the street. I watched him first in the reflection of a car window, then in a shop window. His eyes were on me all the time. I pretended to see something interesting in a shop window & stopped. He had to keep walking & passed me. I could see he was itching to stop or turn around as he moved slowly & uncomfortably on, but he couldn't without looking very obvious indeed. While he was facing away from me I headed back the way I came among the people & around the corner. I passed the entrance again. There were two tramps stood opposite it. One pointed a finger & asked a question of some kind in an accusing manner. I shook my head & frowned at him moving on. I didn't want to speak that they'd know I was English.
I planned that I wouldn't leave by the main road, but left by a lesser road going South, & after dark. Getting away from the city centre, a young man at a bus stop drew my attention. He'd pulled out a mobile phone, & was pacing nervously suddenly. I took a turn into a side street, up somebody's driveway into darkness, where I sat & rested. After about five minutes a car swerved into the street & sped up it. I was now a little more unnerved than I had been with the first man. I left the street back into the one I had originally been traveling on. The man was now standing with another, both were looking my way. I quickened pace & when the two of them had been obscured by a bend in the road, I crossed some railway lines to another road which ran parallel. As I crossed into it a car drove up the road very fast from behind me. It then braked hard, swerved in & parked in front of me a short distance. The driver began talking on his mobile phone, whilst at the same time glaring at me in his rear view mirror. OK, so now I knew I wasn't being paranoid. Up a side street walking as quickly as I could until I came to an area of trees. I went into the darkness, sat & thought. I was there about ten minutes. The streets around were quiet, the peace disturbed a few times by a car being driven quickly through them. Now I was going to find a route of minor roads SW to the river. Traveling anywhere between East & West, as the roads & trees dictated, but SW was my main course. There were a lot of wooded areas along my way. I pitched tent in one & slept. The area near the river was conveniently heavily wooded.
I zigzagged my way there the next day. On my way I Noticed a light aircraft flying up & down the route I was headed on the previous evening. I tried to obscure myself, crossing the street, stopping at cover. My backpack would make me obvious. He continued as he had & I made camp at my destination. I lit up a huge fire at the base of a tree to make some tea & dinner, there was lots of dead wood lying around & I enjoyed a big fire. A plane flew over not far away, & I had a pillar of smoke going up, but I wasn't overly concerned. Anyone could be having a fire. About half an hour later I could see a white Transit van pull up, level with my camp on the dirt track. I knew he had to be there for me, my smoke was plain & there was nothing else around to be there for. A stockily built man got out & started dodging quickly in my direction. The van drove off. I poured out my water onto the fire, and to be honest was expecting the land owner to come tell me off. I began to pack up. He was a long time coming this man. especially since he'd seemed in a hurry. Fifteen minutes later, when I'd broke camp, he still hadn't arrived. Now I knew he was sneaking up on me. Glad I'd put the fire out, so he'd probably get lost on his way, I left. The woodland was dense, so I made camp again about 200 meters away, in a deep ditch, and covered my tent with branches. I was there a couple of days before a van parked conspicuously & at the other side of the river.
The next day I could make out two figures which from the big white trainers appeared to be young men. I crouched behind a tree for a while & watched, looking for fishing kit. None appeared. I left it a few minutes, then went back to see what they were up to. They had separated. One had moved a few hundred meters down river, & they were both crouching as if to present smaller observers, with their bright white trainers, & no cover, they looked very silly. A lorry parked up nearby on my side of the river. I had obviously been found we were in the middle of nowhere I was suddenly surrounded . I went back to my tent, cutting through a stream so as not to be seen by the teenagers on the other river bank & got packed up. On my way out I saw a footprint in the mud which wasn't mine. I'd been up & down through the mud all day, I knew this was fresh & very different to my own. It was headed towards where the teenagers had seen me. I looked but couldn't see anyone. I prayed hard for guidance out of there, & found it over a bank & through someone's farm.
I didn't get far before I noticed a light aircraft behaving suspiciously ahead of me. It was flying along, then suddenly veered towards me as if the pilot was doing his best to pull some Gs. You see that kind of maneuver in an air display, but it's not something I'd seen in a modern light aircraft before. I slid down an embankment to some trees before it could level up from It's turn & see clearly. As it came by I moved around a tree that I was obscured by it's trunk. It came over me & into the distance. I left the path to some nearby woodland. Camouflaged my tent up with branches & remained there for three days to make them think they had lost me. Or at least spread themselves further & thinner. I could hear the constant drone of the light aircraft above from inside my tent. It finally had enough midday on a Sunday. The river was still in my way. I found a railway bridge to cross by. The road bridges in the area would be under observation. From there I crossed farmland & traveled through woodland avoiding roads, crossing them quickly if I had to.
With Christmas days away and light snow I booked into a cheap hotel in Kielce. When I was ready to leave I posted Letters to the ,St. Petersburg administration. That is the local government, governor, vice governors & all other officials on their website. Whether they be in charge of press relations, traffic or whatever. I wanted everyone to know what was happening so nobody could easily ignore it. That'll fix them, I thought, & cheerfully set off down the main road south knowing I'd be far away by the time the letters arrived & confident that it would soon all be over.
Roughly 20 miles from Auschwitz I encountered a huge sand quarry inside which was a gargantuan bucket conveying machine, which was made to look small by the vast quarry containing it. It was in my way, & I wasn't going to be able to walk around it. I didn't like breaking cover to cross it. Especially since there was a car parked up on the long access road overlooking it. It seemed to have no good reason to be there at all. I went down into it, across it, & up the other side. The banks at it's edges were steep. I'd read that it was best to traverse steep banks by walking up them at an angle, rather than trying to go straight up. So that's what I did, through young pine trees a little taller than myself, & when I arrived at the top I sat to take my standard 15 minutes rest. after about 10 minutes had gone by I heard a rustling in the trees on the bank I'd climbed. Then I saw the head of a smiling teenager. He was traveling up at the same angle as me, a little further down. My first thought was what on earth can this young man possibly be doing in this huge quarry? Of course there was only one answer. I judged from the time he took to show up he must've been either hiding in the quarry waiting for me to come by, or following about 1/2 km behind me. He was heading off In what must have appeared to be my direction of travel up the bank & beyond, so I went the other way.
As I came within sight of the road through the trees I saw a purple coloured car driving unusually slowly. I didn't like it, I let it go by, then hurried across the road and into trees on the other side. About 100 meters into them, & not completely obscured, the car came creeping back along the road in the other direction. Through the woods led to another slightly narrower quarry, with some tree cover at It's bottom. again there was a car parked up in the middle of an access road overlooking the quarry. I made my way down only having to break cover briefly at the bottom. I found a large area of woods at it's other side, with a wide track heading as far as I could see in my direction. I traveled several miles until I came to an area of open ground which I certainly didn't want to cross in daylight. So I pitched tent & got a few hours sleep then began again about 3am through farmland in darkness. The good thing about Eastern Europe was that you could walk off road for a week & not be stopped by a fence around anyones land.
I arrived in Oswiecem at 2pm, 20 miles was roughly my limit in a day with what I was carrying. I walked into a hotel that had separate groups of backpackers in the foyer, & asked the lady to book me in for one night. Behind her was a spectacled man in his mid twenties. He looked interested in my arrival. He went on to discreetly take out his mobile phone, round the corner of a doorway, say a single word & hang up. He then re-emerged looking pleased with himself. I would've walked out & gone somewhere else, but I was too tired. I went into town & found an Internet
cafe that evening. I logged into
Yahoo! chat, & entered the adult webcam rooms where I expected to
find a friend. What
I would usually do is log into one room with a name I thought would be
recognised, then change rooms another twice in quick succession for
further recognition. Then
I would be silent & write down the
chat names which might contain cryptic messages to decipher when I had
more time. They were running a custom version of Yahoo! chat software
which allowed them to see somehow who had just logged into whichever
room. This could have been any one of a hundred. I guess the chat names
& rooms must've been appearing on a list as people were logging in.
Possibly to make sure every login was targeted for a porn link personal
message. Their software also allowed them to join a room with multiple
chat names. From time to time about six names would join or leave the
rooms together, this was a single user.
The message I got wasn't a pleasant one. 'Chewed up & spit out', & then I got the PM with link 'fuckingasshole.com'. The first a reference to an enforced abortion, & the second an accusation of my part responsibility for it. Which I couldn't accept. There were many people responsible for the death, from the corrupt officials to the guards to the men who gave the order to those who carried it out, they all take money to be a part of the system whether they are doing the killing themselves or not. The captives knew that when I used information their captors would usually discover who I'd written to, know the source of that information & hurt them. (I'd written to anti-torture organisations about the electrocution of a pregnant woman). It wouldn't be roses for me either, they'd discover who I'd written to & where I was when I posted the letter or sent the email, & come after me, I had to fight big. However as in war timing & life are big issues in deciding courses of action. I think that if I'd known it would die I might've waited until it was born in the belief it wouldn't be aborted, but it would've died later without a doubt, they kill small children regularly to punish resisting mothers. Babies are quickly replaced. It was snowing hard when I went to see the former concentration camp, which added to the grim atmostphere. I left the hotel & walked down the road until I could find a pathway by which to travel out of sight. I found a dirt track leading to the rear of some houses & a railway embankment, so I followed it. Getting away was easy.
One evening I saw some distant hills & thought to myself, I'll get to those hills & then I'll make camp & do myself something to eat. It was taking a surprisingly long time to reach them. The reason became clear when I saw a cloud passing along some distance beneath their top. They were in fact small mountains, & a lot further away than I had estimated. It began to snow, which became quite deep. I was later to discover that mountainous areas suffer lower temperatures & more snow. I came to a point about 15 km from the Southern border with Slovakia that I had to use a bridge, (If you are going to Slovakia there is a studio containing captive women & children used for pornography production here: Seberiniho 1, Bratislava, 821 03, Slovakia) which meant I needed to join a main road. I joined as close to the bridge as I could, & left the main road at my earliest opportunity. It all took about 10 minutes exposed. A car pulled in ahead of me. I don't know why, but even the way it pulled over looked unnatural. The man inside didn't get out, just sat. As I approached a young girl came out of a house nearby. Ah! I thought, nothing going on here, he's waiting for the girl, but she just walked up the road. I looked back when I'd passed his door. He was taking out a mobile phone. I began to walk quickly to get into cover somewhere. 5 minutes later I'd left the road. A white Mercedes works van came speeding up the road & swung in at the foot of my hill. The driver got out & watched me travel, lighting up a cigarette. It was snowing hard, & cold. It wasn't an ordinary cigarette break to get out of the van, & as I saw in escaping Warsaw, he was accelerating very quickly for someone about to park. I stopped & waited to see if he would try to come up after me. He just stood.
The snow was getting deeper and the going harder. The poles were loving it, they all brought out their skis, & even had local ski lifts going. I had to get supplies one day, I went down into a village & got a week or two's worth. I had to pass a building site on the way. On the way back there was a works vehicle with blacked out windows parked in a lay-by ahead of me. I wasn't going to go up the hill to my tent with them seeing, so I turned and went the other way. I went down the road & around the corner, begining up somebody's driveway & managing to stay mainly obscured from the road by trees & some houses lining it. I reached my tent which was overlooking the suspect vehicle. Another car pulled up alongside it. A builder dressed as those on a site I had passed going to the village got out of the works vehicle & the man from the Mercedes van I'd seen before got out of the car. They spoke a while then the car driver walked in the direction I had gone & spoke to someone shoveling snow at the front of his house. I traveled alongside the road to the border crossing out of sight, hoping it would lead me to a petrol station or shop. The snow was going down into the top of my boots making my feet permanently cold & wet, my toes were looking messed up & I needed to rest. I saw a small green car several times as I traveled, going one way, then later the other. There was a bus stop nearby, though I didn't like to be on the road I didn't see much of an alternative. I hid my pack among some rubbish in the corner of the shelter, took off my green jacket & stuffed my long hair under my woolly hat. after about five minutes the little green car I'd seen several times came up the road from the direction of the border. he looked at me with a big smile on his face & spent so long looking back to try to see a backpack on the ground it's surprising he kept going in a straight line. I left the road again. I called the British embassy & asked them to call me a taxi. I would rest up a couple of weeks in a hotel across the border. They instead sent a police car which took me to have paramedics look at my feet. I was taken to hospital in Zywiec where I was told I had to stay.
I was there a long 3 & a half months. It was also frustrating that I couldn't help the captives. What would they think? that I'd left them or I was dead or something? First opinion of my feet was that I'd lose at least two toes. The doctors laughed when I said they'd be fine. I knew they would because I'd felt the blood return to them after two weeks of numbness when I prayed for their healing. I don't always get what I pray for but I had a good reason this time, I said I needed my feet since I'd promised to walk to Jerusalem. Then when the flesh grew back they said I was lucky. It was my pleasure to become friends with a famous Polish mountain climber during my stay, Kristov Gardaz, who has peaked some of the worlds highest with one withered leg. His wife Eva who collects NATO shooting gold medals was assigned to border control in the area I was off road, so had little sympathy for my toes.
Towards the end of my time there I was out at a local Internet cafe. I went into one & entered Yahoo! chat. Instead of the army of girl impersonators & people asking my 'ASL' I was used to since they'd become aware I was secretly conversing with the girls, I got a message from a friend, odd that was, because my chat name (dillantherabbit) wasn't one they should recognise. I'd entered one room, which had no activity, then another & another. The message I got was 'It's gone quiet in here. Why is that?' Then I understood that their software was showing them an IP, a Polish one with an English chat name. They never had my IP before, they'd always try to trick me into telling them where I was. I left the Internet cafe and didn't return there, or leave the hospital for some time after for that matter. When I did emerge I checked the email I'd given to those I'd written to from Kielce. There was a reply from St. Petersburg department of tourism, regarding my letter to the governor of St. Petersburg. A teacher who was visiting me to improve her English spoke fluent Russian, so she translated for me.
On release from hospital I took a bus to Krakow. I prepared about 23 letters & I signed up for an account with Mailvault, a free email provider which boasted to be able to protect it's users even from their government. Hopefully I could expect some replies this time. I posted them off & left Krakow still disappointed at my slow recovery. It was way past anybody's estimates. I traveled to Katowice, & was directed to university accommodation by tourist information, the cheapest way to get your own room in Poland. I began work at the Internet cafe in town. A couple of days went by. I was on my way home one evening when I became spooked for apparently no good reason, I looked behind me but could not see anybody following, there were no cars around. further down the road a car pulled in ahead of me, the driver looked stressed as I passed him by. I heard him leave the car & looked back to see where he was going. He was walking slowly up a side street watching me through railings as I went. Then another car pulled over on the other side of the street. The driver put on the interior light a moment, then sat smirking as I passed. One suspicious dude I can live with, but two in quick succession meant I had to act on it. When I got to the university building I went up a darkened drive, stood behind a tree & watched the road. A taxi came by, the passenger was frantically scanning the forecourt of the building. Now I knew for sure. I had paid for 4 days & had supplies enough to hand. I wouldn't leave the building. My room had an internal phone from where it was possible to dial a room number or call reception. After two days it began to ring. I didn't pick it up.
On the third day I made a move, though I'd paid for another night. When I handed in my key I was pleased to find I could leave by a back door. Their man power must've been stretched watching the last few days, because there was no sign of anybody at the rear. I went through minor roads & a grave yard, the stone entrance to which I hid in until a cab came by. I took it to the train station. A took a train to no particular destination a while then alighted & got onto another. Nobody from the train I was on followed. I got off again somewhere in the area of Sosnowiece. There was an Internet cafe near the station. I'd judged that they had located me in Katowice by my Yahoo! email accounts. I set up a test, I created an email account supposedly of a friend in Poland, & added it to my friends list. When I checked it for mail it had received a mail from me saying don't forget to write! I had copies of my passport, driving license birth certificate & email addresses of friends there. That I had been found by logging into a Yahoo! email address surely meant they now had all of this information.
Their corruption spread like a disease to anything that it had contact with. Having access to one email account meant they had access to any other I'd sent mail to. I kept about four, all Yahoo!, for different types of use, some business, some personal. They'd all at some stage had mail transferred from one of the others. This meant they had the addresses & telephone numbers of all the friends I'd made in hospital. From their telephone records the English +44 prefixed mobile number would stand out. Then from my mobile records they might possibly establish the numbers of other friends & family. Even if I changed my number I wouldn't be able to call anyone I know without the possibility that they would then discover my new number & be able to locate me whenever I used it. They were not what I'd call clever, but methodical. In my experience if there was an opportunity it was quite rare for them to miss it. However you do learn to do things in less ordinary ways & can get ahead of them. I had to be careful when I called anyone. I would have to be already located or somewhere safe, like on a train. It took a few hours to delete all of the mail & then close down the accounts.
When I came out of the Internet cafe there was a bald headed stocky man sitting In a car parked ahead of me. He was already in idle conversation on his mobile phone, but when he saw me he reacted, his manner became urgent. I went to the nearby station for the first train away from the area. where I was clearly the subject of another indiscreet operative who even stood beside me & put on glasses to look at the destination on my ticket when the vendor handed it to me. I had bought a ticket to some destination miles away, but alighted at the first stop. I then went stealthily through the dark side streets a short distance to the town centre, where I got on a bus from amoung a crowd. I traveled a mile or two on the bus, then got off when I saw a taxi rank. I fixed a price with the driver to take me to Krakow, which was several hours drive. From there I went to nearby Wieliczka, famed for It's ancient & working salt mines. I was there a few days I think when I logged into Mailvault to find a security measure had been tripped. The time & date of last login was blank. It was a bit of a worry that my Mailvault email addresses were perhaps not safe at all, but they did alert me.
It began peacefully as usual until I used Internet cafes. With highly suspicious activity around me again I took a long distance train to Zamosc, near the Eastern border which was a long way away & I found peace there. I experimented with anonymous surfing software & learned how to change the proxy settings in a browser. I would run a search with criteria like "free daily list" :80 :8080' which would return search engine results yielding some of that day's proxies without me having to visit the possibly corrupted web site from which they originated. When I was bored with Zamosc I went on to Lublin, a pleasant old town with lots of mediaeval buildings, my favourite kind of place. There was a stage set up, & various bands performed into the evening in aid of a politician running for the Polish presidency, a Mr. Andrea Leper. I couldn't believe what I was witnessing when some old guy got up on stage, took the mike & introduced the next act who were there representing the "Mafia organisation", he said proudly. Three middle-aged ladies came on stage & sang an operatic song. The Mafia man eagerly took the mike again afterward & said some stuff I couldn't understand. Then left the stage looking like he felt like everyone had been shown who he was & should show him appropriate respect when they encounter him. "Thank you very much Mr. Cornelli", said the compare in a quiet voice looking down at the stage like he was a bit embarrassed. It was Cornelli, Corniloni or something like that. A couple of people clapped enthusiastically, likely people he knew. Everyone else stayed silent. Great publicity for this Leper character I thought.
I was only in Lublin for one day before I gave myself away by visiting a site I ought not to have done. It was a 'web proxy' site, where you type a URL into a field box, and the site is visited on your behalf in a new frame. I saw in my history that I'd visited an av.rds.yahoo.com address by going there. I was deliberately avoiding anything to do with Yahoo!. I wouldn't even use their search engine. Their name was simply coming up too many times. I went back to my residence & didn't go back into town. There was a supermarket near where I lived & an Internet cafe in a back street. I used that until one day I went in to discover a networking program, WinVNC had appeared on all of their PCs. Then I got supplies & stayed in my building for a week, I would give the impression of having left. Then I went out as quietly as I could through the grounds & up minor roads to the Station & traveled to Radom.
There I gathered a couple of anonymous surf programs & burned them to a writable CD. I logged into Mailvault to find that not only was the last login time blank, but there was a message for me. Two Russian words in the subject line which I didn't understand, & to be honest neither was I interested in what the enemy had to say. Neither was there a 'from' address, just a blank space where it should be. There may have been a message by way of an image, they'd done that before, being reluctant to converse openly with me. If there was an image it would've been blocked by the email provider as one of their security measures. In any case there was nothing in the message main body, probably some kind of threat I thought, & dismissed it. A few minutes later I heard the three polish men who worked at the cafe discussing the 'Angelique' which I knew meant Englishman, they seemed perplexed at something that was going on to do with me. I added up that I'd been located again & that somebody had spoken to them. I deleted my Internet history, & went to the counter to pay & leave. You have to wait a minute said the man. Here we go I thought, sure I do. He got up & went & spoke with his friends about a minute. Then came back & told me how much I owed. I awayed quickly to my Hotel via back streets. I then found a bus that had some place out of town on it's destination board & got on it. It took me a good distance to a school in a small village. I walked a mile or two to trees near to a graveyard which had a well. I stayed a couple of days then went off in search of a small town on my map which had a railway station.
I took the train up to Warsaw for a day just to post another batch of letters so as to confuse them a bit. I wanted to stay in the south, eager to leave when my toes permitted, but I didn't want them concentrating around me. I found student accommodation in Krakow. It was a bit expensive as they go, & not so good. The toilet put me in mind of the characters at NaStudio because I had to flush it so many times to clear the pan. I'd no idea whether I'd been seen heading to Krakow or they went there because they knew I'd frequented it in the past, but the local Internet cafe worker was acting suspiciously & foreign files appeared on my floppy discs when I used them. I don't know what they were, I'd seen the same kind of thing before from a virus back in England. I left town for Czestochowa, that's where the real trouble began.
At Czestochowa Is Poland's version of the Vatican. All of Poland's Catholics travel on an annual pilgrimage there (Not all at the same time). In the days I was there the coach park was very busy. Inside the complex was crowded. I saw twelve confessional boxes going, inside each was a priest dressed like the pope, & each had a queue of roughly fifteen people waiting. There were lots of priests & nuns around. The shops in town sold all manner of religious wares from jewelry to large statues and crucifixes for churchyards. I found an Internet cafe, & began to familiarise myself with the Proxyway software that I'd burned to disc. I couldn't seem to make it work properly. I put it down to being my first effort with it.
At Czestochowa library the next day, in the reflection of my monitor the computer room Librarian sat behind me squinting far too interested at what I was doing on the computer. I looked at some maps of Austria, where I had no intention of going, too cold. I wanted to give them something useless to do if they came to look at my Internet history. I left the computer room through another room to the exit. There were two women in this room. They stopped talking when I entered & watched me leave. When I'd closed the door behind me I heard the 'clop clop clop' of one of the girls hastening to the computer room I'd been in, Hmm. I knew they were here & I knew it was the freeware download been tampered with or the proxy sites it visited. I'd been showing an Interest in this & other freeware downloads at various Internet cafes on my travels before I got one on CD. I stayed out of the town centre a couple of days until I thought it was safe.
I took a walk to the bus station to look at possible destinations. I passed a fast food bar there. At a table outside was a group of three men. One who was facing me eagerly raised a hamburger to a widened mouth to take a first bite. Then he saw me & lowered it again looking at me as if he was annoyed about something. I walked on a little way then turned to see what they were doing. Two of them had moved to the opposite side of the table from where they could watch where I was going. I looked at a display board and was joined by the annoyed looking man who, now standing was large. I imagine if he had his way he'd give me a beating & drag me into a van rather than sit at bus stations etc. for days in case I showed up. I could see he'd had enough of it. I left the station & crossed the road. Looking back, the big man was standing outside the bus depot building facing me. He turned away when I looked. I got around some trees & changed my direction over some waste ground. I became aware of a girl standing near a bus stop to my left she was facing me and watching my progress whilst speaking on a mobile phone. I got around a corner & sat on some steps near the entrance to a supermarket while I thought what I should do next. A few minutes went by when a young man who had the manner of a half wit showed up. He paced around a bit, then stood behind one of the supermarket entrance pillars & began tapping buttons on his mobile phone. His body was obscured, but his hand & phone were protruding. Then he shuffled behind the other pillar. While he was around there I walked off. Around a corner were a couple of taxis. I got into one of them & instructed him a series of turns to prevent anyone following without it being obvious.
I packed my things & left town for some woods a couple of days. When I returned the place was absolutely crawling with them. A response to my experimenting with proxies it would seem. My IP address had always been their No. 1 means of locating me. I got onto a bus, got off after about 1/4 mile at the Catholic complex wooded garden. I went into the darkness of the trees, around the complex & found a taxi rank, with hindsight not the best thing to use, but I hadn't seen this many before. I got into one and told the driver to take me out of town to a bus station.
The taxi driver took me to Klobuck. I watched the road as we went, we were overtaken, & had cars behind us at various points, but nobody was obviously following, the road behind was usually clear. When we arrived at Klobuck station 8:30 PM it was quiet, we got out & spoke to a local walking by to ask if he knew if any more buses were coming that night. The taxi drivers in Poland were usually helpful like that. When they took me to a hotel they would come in with me & speak to the receptionist on my behalf. Though Sometimes asking them to take me to a cheap hotel would get me straight to the cheapest hotel in town, & sometimes it would get me miles from the town centre to the furthest hotel they could think of. As my driver was speaking, a young man unhurriedly pulled up behind our cab, put on his interior light, & without ever looking at us wrote down the registration plate of our taxi. He then pulled out, parked in a position with a good view of the bus depot, turned off his engine & lit up a cigarette. I told my cab driver to forget it & take me further down the road, I asked him to drop me at an area of wasteland, which he did though bemused. I went off into the darkness & found somewhere to sleep, an old hut outside a factory. The next morning. I crossed a few fields, then woods. There was a red mini bus kept showing up ahead on the trails, which I dodged, & obvious observers along my way. It felt a dangerous place to be so I left.
I couldn't find a taxi to take me from Olesno station to the Hotel, the reason for this the staff told me was there were no taxis in Olesno. I looked out of my window. There were two young men with what looked to me a mischievous manner. I didn't know at this point I'd been followed here. I took a walk outside, nobody watching from any parked cars. I went to the town square where I recognised the bald headed
man from outside the
Sosnowiec Internet
cafe, he was
chatting away
again,
this time into a radio microphone like you'd see in a taxi or police
car. there were no taxi markings on the car. He was looking into his
rear view mirror as I approached from behind. He didn't look as I
passed him. I headed up another darkened road. This time the red
minibus drove down it & parked. The driver seemed a little put out
with me as he looked sideways at me through narrowed eyes. That was
that then, they were here alright. I went back to the hotel.
I left my room (top right in image) to use the toilet that evening, when I came out I heard a door open at the end of the hall. I looked, but nobody emerged, neither was there a sound. I thought no more of it, & went the few paces back to my room. That night at 2:15am somebody came down the hall & barged the door of the room next door to me with their body weight at the same time yanking down the handle, the door didn't give. Inside was a group of backpackers, they didn't come out to see what was up. Then he tried the handle on my door. I'd hung a cooking pot on the handle, so that it went clattering to the floor. It was designed to wake me, but I was already awake. He stood there a moment in silence. Yes, this was my room. Then he went back up the hall, strained a short wee into the toilet & back to his room, which sounded like the one with the mysteriously opening door earlier. His feeble excuse for breaking in the wrong door would no doubt be he was looking for the toilet. The girl showed me where the toilet was when she showed me my room. She would've done the same for him. I went to sleep. In the night a hand grabbed me around the throat & began to strangle me, for some reason I just relaxed & prayed. Then I woke up, which surprised me, because it felt very real. I didn't go back to sleep again. In the morning I passed by the small smoking room on the way to the staircase down to the street exit. Inside was, by his build, skin condition & clothing what appeared to be a lone Russian drug addict.
I left the hotel with nobody in sight & went to the station. Near it was a Eurolines office. I went in & inquired when I might be able to get a bus to Germany. There were none until that afternoon. I passed the bus station which had a few people outside. Opposite was the train station. Oddly there was a taxi outside of it. The hotel lady had told me that there weren't any here. It didn't look like a normal taxi. It had a sign of a kind I'd not seen in Poland on It's roof, & no advertisements on it's doors. The driver looked at me expectantly as I approached. I'd a feeling this place was totally rigged. There were about a dozen people in the station building when I went to the ticket counter. I made some inquires about trains to Wroclaw & Katowice, which was entirely the other direction to Wroclaw then got on a Wroclaw train pulling in. When I got onto the train a frizzy haired girl watched me from the ticket office doorway & didn't let me out of her sight until the train began to move, then she went back inside. I'd been told by the lady that to get to Wroclaw I'd need to change train, when I arrived at the station where I was supposed to change I went instead to leave, but was directed to a waiting train by a man who had overheard me at the station. I thanked him & walked to the relevant platform. As I arrived a bus was pulling in headed about 6 miles North, I got on. An annoyed looking middle aged man appeared in the doorway of the station building in front of the bus speaking into his mobile. I can't lip read Polish, but I know when someone is cursing me. One passenger got on the bus after me before it left, Possibly following.
I got off the bus when it pulled up outside a train station with a waiting train & got on that. It was a long ten minutes before it left. This train was heading North a long way away from the area. It went through one remote station where there was a car parked up with It's doors open. There were three men stood outside of it, one talking on his mobile, another scanning the carriages with a look of disbelief on his face, I had the impression I'd reached the limits of the web they'd spun for me. The train went on a good distance further & terminated adjacent to another waiting train. So I got on it. which again was heading a good distance North. It terminated at Poznan where I had my pick of places to go. I went further North. I'd been traveling seven hours when I arrived at a small town station. Surely they didn't have the man power to be there. From Bydgoszcz a little further North, I hoped to be able to Catch a bus to Gdansk which was not so far now.
Next I decided to go in, in faith that I'd be all right. I walked into the left hand entrance. It led to a reception area to my left, an office ahead, & a stairway leading upward between. I smiled at the reception girl 'NaStudio?' I said. She said something in Russian, I asked if she spoke English. She motioned that she couldn't understand what I was saying. To me she looked scared, perhaps I did, & it was a reaction to that, I don't know, I didn't think I had. A man came down from the stairway looking surprised and interested. I could've tried speaking to him, but I didn't like the look of him very much. It was about 8pm when I tried the other entrance. It was Keypad entry with intercom. I spoke into the intercom to a mature sounding lady who again didn't speak English, she seemed to find our exchange amusing. After a minute or two a man in a suit walked up to the door. I asked him if he spoke English. "Yes" he replied politely, to my relief. I said I wanted to spend some time with a girl. "Sure", he said, "what flat number?"
I
told him I didn't know which
flat, I gave him the real name of one of the girls from pornication.
"OK" he says, then craned his neck forward to see what my carrier bag
contained. I opened it up obligingly. The plan was to escape with a
girl using a concealed weapon, one who I could identify as a captive.
He typed a number into the keypad
& led the way in.Inside were a lift & a staircase which led up. We took the stairs a short way up, past flats with thick metal security doors of a standard you'd expect to see on a large safe, until we arrived at one with a spy hole. He made a call on his mobile phone & the door was opened by a man shorter than myself, but broad & powerful looking. Shirt off, he resembled a medieval jailer. Unlike the man in the suit, he didn't look friendly at all. The suited man went inside asking me to wait where I was. Some time went by & I became jittery I went out to a shop around the corner to get some beer. I don't know how I thought I'd get back in, but as I arrived back at the door a young girl was approaching it ahead of me. The door swung closed very slowly, & I reached it & went back to where I'd been waiting. It seemed that some were arriving of their free will. I supposed that's likely how it would begin (that turned out to sometimes be the case, although I found this site luring those interested in learning Indian sexual massage techniques). I knocked on the jailer's door. He opened looking at me in an aggressive fashion, standing deliberately beyond my reach, & poised to slam the thick door quickly should the need arise. I asked if he had a bottle opener. "Net", he said bluntly, then closed the door. I was later to be told that this is the man whose job it was to flog the girls if they were caught speaking of their captivity to outsiders. The suited man emerged cheerfully, I offered him one of my beers, but he declined & pleasantly said goodbye. I waited there for three hours before I finally accepted I wasn't going to be allowed to see anyone & went back to my hotel. While I'd been waiting, on the half hour I could hear the entrance door open, & a male & female would enter chatting, this happened three or four times. They would get into the lift & travel to the floors high above.
I did some walking past & some hanging around, but I was unable to see any further girl transfers. One evening I sat where they would pass with a bottle of beer & the hood of my coat up, but they had me moved on by a policeman, who then went inside to speak to them. Another evening I went a short distance into an alley from where it was possible to see the entrance to NaStudio, there was someone skulking in the darkness so I went out. I went up this alleyway a different evening, this time it was empty. I looked around a bit in the courtyard it led to. A weedy looking young man came in after me laughably trying to intimidate. Another evening I walked around the rear alley of NaStudio to have a look around. The man I'd seen hanging around on the first day appeared at the alley entrance protesting at my presence there, I went up to speak to him but he'd hid somewhere or skulked off. I'd first booked into Hotel Moskva, which was miles away, I was walking & would often get back very late. There would be a group of weary looking prostitues in the lobby in the early hours, I was a bit disgusted at the time, but of course I know now that they would not be free to go. I went to the cheaper LDM hotel a short walk from NaStudio. It was opposite a police headquarters, there were twenty to thirty police cars parked outside. That's handy, I thought, but the short distance led to my very easy location.
Beyond the Karpovka river, on the other side of the street was a derelict building (No.43). I gained access to it via some kind of delivery hatch at its rear, into a basement. I crept slowly up its staircase, there was a light on a couple of floors above. I moved up slowly & quietly. When I got to the light It was a bare bulb in the stairway, as I'd thought, just on to deter would-be intruders. There was a table & chair there. On the table was a syringe in a plastic container which contained engine oil. Leaning against double doors was a shovel. The message bold enough, if we catch you sleeping in here we'll inject you with oil & bury you. No prizes for guessing who owned this building. I went over rubble to the top floor with an excellent view of the street with the old corner building. It was a very good vantage point. I watched all evening & into the early hours. Every half hour on the half hour lookouts would appear in the streets & alleyways below. A man would arrive & look up at the window, of the corner building, as I'd seen before. Then either a girl would be sent out to them, or they would leave after about five minutes. They were being led to & from NaStudio, & between the other large buildings within view (No.s 26, 30 & 32).
They seemed to own the whole area. Sometimes a man or large woman with a dog would be sent across the street first. I later learned that the dog was supposed to be trained to stop them running. I thought that must be a bluff, the dogs looked too old & soppy to me. The mood of transfer was no longer relaxed, the escort was running ahead far enough to turn the key to the lock & open the door at the arrival of the girl. Reducing time on the street by a few moments. An ambulance showed up at the corner building which seemed to drop someone off or take someone on board, I couldn't see because it was obscuring the doorway. I'd see this ambulance again in Vishnevskoko ul. overlooking transfer another evening. I wished I had a van, I could leap out & drive off with one of them. I had some money but I had no clue where to purchase a van, things were done very differently in Russia to England, nobody spoke English away from the touristy areas. I thought I might move into this building, however I was somehow spotted from a window opposite on the first night. This was surprising because I was looking through two panes of dirty glass with no light on & they were some distance away. I was bored waiting for activity in the street below & was scanning the rooms for clues to whether this building was involved. In a window directly opposite mine (No.28) there was an amused looking man, & behind him a horrified looking woman. I guessed they'd thought they'd caught a pervert. Time to go.
I returned to the derelict building the next day. I climbed through the hatch, a little concerned that the lid which stayed up well with its rusted hinges before was now moving very freely. Also a curtain had twitched at a nearby flat as I'd made my way through the broken fence. I wasn't happy with the way things were going. Once I was inside I heard a loudish noise from upstairs. I thought to myself that I'd been there for hours the previous evening & hadn't heard a thing. It seemed to me somebody hearing my entrance was trying to avoid a confrontation by scaring me off. I left & didn't go back there again. It seemed then that the man who saw me at the window that night mentioned it to Mafia, meaning another huge building almost certainly belonged to them, it was looking like the whole block & beyond. I went to the rear of one of the smaller buildings involved (No.32) to where I'd seen a girl I knew being taken. There was a doorway which I pulled open. Inside was the fuse box & electrical main switch. I planned to return & sabotage the electrics. I returned that night to find one of their puny lookouts inside, who awoke when I opened the door. I smiled & said hello, he sat up bleary eyed. I closed the door & went. Another evening I was in the darkness of the alley which overlooked NaStudio entrance when a middle aged man in a woolly hat saw me. I'd seen this man before overseeing girl transfer with the dogs & at the NaStudio entrance. He was facing me, he began to use his mobile phone & looked up at the window of the room where I'd met the jailer, who wasn't answering, to woolly hat's frustration. I Went home.
The next evening I was pretty demoralised. It just wasn't coming together. If I was in the street anywhere near the place they wouldn't bring anyone out. I'd only managed to see a girl I recognised once. I knew I couldn't go back there the next evening, so about the time I'd usually leave I went instead to the front of the hotel with a bottle of my favourite Russian beer 'Stepan Razin'. It was a lovely evening. Instead of walking on as I usually would when I came out of the entrance, I turned & sat on a wall. As I turned I saw an adrenaline rushed man come light footed from the side of the hotel in my direction. He had both his hands stuffed into his coat pockets, & was tense. He stopped in his tracks about four or five meters away as soon as I saw him, quickly turning his head to one side avoiding eye contact. It was very obvious he was going to knife me from behind had I not turned. It looked as though he was clutching knives tightly in both hands inside the pockets of his 3/4 length black leather coat. This seemed the standard item of clothing for Russian men, as long boots were for the women. I wondered if part reason was that it's difficult to stab through leather. I had the bottle in my hand. He didn't look up as I half circled him back into the hotel. This was my first experience of an Assassin, the first of many I'd see, who like this one would generally completely lose interest when they couldn't sneak up on me. Assassins to me are the biggest cowards with the coldest hearts. I was very surprised that he was going to do what he was doing with a police headquarters overlooking the scene. It shows just how bad corruption is in the area, that he felt he'd get away with it anyway. They'd prove very much more cautious when I left Russia. Next day I was met out front safely by a cab & moved to another hotel.
I'd seen the corruption problem in Russia first hand, I'd been there just 3 weeks but had twice been robbed by police. I'd been told that jobs in politics & security attracted people who knew there was money in bribery & wanted to be a part of it. What usualy happens is that they tolerate organised crime through greed & fear. Having visited the offices of a major Moscow newspaper, (where I'd heard there was a brave reporter who was famously persecuted for publicly declaring the corruption of the Ministry of the Interior) & had the promise of a letter passed to a governor I left the country for Tallinn, happy that things were turning out OK. Although a nice place I became bored waiting for good news. With finances also dwindling & knowing returning to NaStudio would achieve nothing, I started walking south. I'd stop at Internet cafes along my way to do some sly talking in the Yahoo! chat rooms with captives that I knew. I'd do it once & then be on my way for a week. Doing that used to draw the attention of those monitoring then I'd be gone so that there was nothing for them to see. A few months down the road I became concerned that investigation into NaStudio appeared to be going rather slowly. I Sent an email to President Putin, & wrote a letter that I would post once I was over the border with Poland, so I wouldn't be intercepted by Mafia approaching a crossing point, I'd change direction a bit when I was across. That'll get things moving I thought. The Yahoo! chat rooms had become full of Mafia pretending to be girls I knew, with female chat names & using phrases similar to ones used by the girls, they were asking me where I was, trying to find common ground for chat from information gathered from friends. They were obvious, they would come to me in a girl's clothes & expect me to kiss them. ICQ chat was full of impostors too, although I'd never used it before. I could see that my girls were also there performing their spamming duties. The enemy would also be in the Christian Yahoo! rooms raking for me.
I stopped off at a town with Internet access & did some preparation for renewed assault on NaStudio. I found contact details for about 1000 attendees from around the world of an anti trafficking conference. Since so many countries were listed on the 2257 document, I would write to all of them asking them to help if they could. I worked out that at the current rate of disinterest, if I wrote to 1000 at least 20 people would reply eager to help. I had written to very many organisations & received only a few replies, but as it turned out they were processing the information, passing it on. They should have replied though I thought. How was I supposed to overcome a failure if I wasn't kept informed of what had & hadn't been done? I logged into Yahoo! chat & spoke with captives half leaving email in my account to be read, & half making comments in the chat room in pleasingly fluid yet cryptic conversation. I was told not to do it because word of such a mass mailing would cause retribution. I was later to find out that the next day one of the girls had been stabbed trying to make a run for it. The cut was clean however, & she made a recovery. I was right about the dog, it didn't do anything.
I arrived in Warsaw 5th Nov 2004. I found an Internet cafe in a shopping centre not too far from my hotel & was happily sending email to the girls in Russia for a couple of days. One day as I descended the Escalator to the Internet/centre toilets/car park entrance area, two men at a single computer stood out. They looked Russian, dull worn black clothing, 3/4 length black leather jacket on one of them, generally looking as if they'd no money, no western style to their hair. It was unusual to see them here, so I took a look at their computer screen as I passed by. They were using Yahoo! chat. One looked totally spooked about something, the other who was doing the typing looked shifty, & familiar. I gave them a warm smile as I drew their attention, booked in for an hour, & sat down at a computer. The shifty guy got up, spoke to the girl at the counter, & then he & his companion left. He returned my smile in the reflection of my computer screen as he passed by. What had he said to the girl? it was prepay, use & leave. I logged into my my mailbox, it was empty, I was used to having a reply waiting for me. What was wrong? . I realised who the shifty one was, & my stomach turned. I knew those narrowed eyes. It was my would-be assailant from outside the St. Petersburg hotel.
As I traveled back to my hotel I passed two others. Both had a young male in the street eyes fixed on the hotel entrance. This caused me concern. When I arrived at my hotel there was a group of young lads hanging around a short distance from the entrance, showing far too much interest in me. I got inside & immediately shaved off my beard. I had to go out, get to an Internet cafe in town, & warn the girls that I knew we'd been rumbled. I put on my other coat & went out, the group of lads had gone, great! No, there they were, in the next street. One of them looked, then quickly turned his head & held the gaze of one of his companions, neither said anything. I passed them. I found an Internet cafe I hadn't used before & I sent a mail in purple, which meant trouble, & 'write to me now & then!' in red, which meant 'no'. I logged into Yahoo! chat. There was a warning there for me, the chat name 'Midnight tears', a reference to my former chat name 'Midnight express', it was subtle as always, necessarily, but in the light of what was happening it was clear. I sent another mail that I'd about done shopping & that I was at the train station. Both statements true, but I wasn't going anywhere. I didn't go back to my hotel that night. I remembered That in St. Petersburg the guy had only hung around outside the hotel one day. I returned to the hotel in the early daylight hours of Sunday morning. I was sure nobody was watching. Inside I went to sleep, & didn't leave the Hotel that day.
When the time came I went to another Internet cafe in the city, one which was difficult to observe, it was beneath ground among the tunnels, & there were security men thick on the ground, who looked as if they had a keen eye for suspicious circumstances. I went to my mailbox to find many more messages than I was used to, & the coding was revised which was suspicious because I'd not so long ago got annoyed with them for the complexity & frequent revision of the code, which would take hours to decipher & often not make sense when put through Russian to English translation software. If they were caught they'd surely force them to reveal what It said anyway. I would need to visit a guest book site to retrieve the new. Also there were lots of Emails attempting to tempt me to follow links. I took them as attempts to obtain my IP address. One I had no reason to disbelieve said that the sender had been made an example of. Another read that one had been severely electrocuted, probably with a tazer of some kind. I felt foolish for my too obvious 'I'm outta here' response to warning.
I later went back into town. The British consulate was safest. That wouldn't be watched. It would normally have been closed by this time, but there was some kind of meeting going on upstairs, & young people were leaving in twos and threes. I went in past them, all the public PCs downstairs were off, and the lights out. I went up the stairs in the direction the people were coming from & found a public computer which was on, but had no Internet access. Nearby was an open plan office. I went in & sat at a desk. The staff computers had been left on, just the monitors were off. I sent an email to say that I was still in town, that I had run short of money & was waiting for someone to put some into my account before I left. I hoped this would cheer up my pursuers, & cause them to leave my friends alone. The security guard came by a couple of times looking at me in an odd way, but didn't say anything.
No problems back at the hotel. The staff didn't speak English, but I managed to inform them that they should not tell anyone I was there. One day I passed by the entrance to the shopping centre with the Internet cafe where I had seen the Russian Assassin & picked up an obvious tail. A young man who reacted to my approach began to follow me up the street. I watched him first in the reflection of a car window, then in a shop window. His eyes were on me all the time. I pretended to see something interesting in a shop window & stopped. He had to keep walking & passed me. I could see he was itching to stop or turn around as he moved slowly & uncomfortably on, but he couldn't without looking very obvious indeed. While he was facing away from me I headed back the way I came among the people & around the corner. I passed the entrance again. There were two tramps stood opposite it. One pointed a finger & asked a question of some kind in an accusing manner. I shook my head & frowned at him moving on. I didn't want to speak that they'd know I was English.
I planned that I wouldn't leave by the main road, but left by a lesser road going South, & after dark. Getting away from the city centre, a young man at a bus stop drew my attention. He'd pulled out a mobile phone, & was pacing nervously suddenly. I took a turn into a side street, up somebody's driveway into darkness, where I sat & rested. After about five minutes a car swerved into the street & sped up it. I was now a little more unnerved than I had been with the first man. I left the street back into the one I had originally been traveling on. The man was now standing with another, both were looking my way. I quickened pace & when the two of them had been obscured by a bend in the road, I crossed some railway lines to another road which ran parallel. As I crossed into it a car drove up the road very fast from behind me. It then braked hard, swerved in & parked in front of me a short distance. The driver began talking on his mobile phone, whilst at the same time glaring at me in his rear view mirror. OK, so now I knew I wasn't being paranoid. Up a side street walking as quickly as I could until I came to an area of trees. I went into the darkness, sat & thought. I was there about ten minutes. The streets around were quiet, the peace disturbed a few times by a car being driven quickly through them. Now I was going to find a route of minor roads SW to the river. Traveling anywhere between East & West, as the roads & trees dictated, but SW was my main course. There were a lot of wooded areas along my way. I pitched tent in one & slept. The area near the river was conveniently heavily wooded.
I zigzagged my way there the next day. On my way I Noticed a light aircraft flying up & down the route I was headed on the previous evening. I tried to obscure myself, crossing the street, stopping at cover. My backpack would make me obvious. He continued as he had & I made camp at my destination. I lit up a huge fire at the base of a tree to make some tea & dinner, there was lots of dead wood lying around & I enjoyed a big fire. A plane flew over not far away, & I had a pillar of smoke going up, but I wasn't overly concerned. Anyone could be having a fire. About half an hour later I could see a white Transit van pull up, level with my camp on the dirt track. I knew he had to be there for me, my smoke was plain & there was nothing else around to be there for. A stockily built man got out & started dodging quickly in my direction. The van drove off. I poured out my water onto the fire, and to be honest was expecting the land owner to come tell me off. I began to pack up. He was a long time coming this man. especially since he'd seemed in a hurry. Fifteen minutes later, when I'd broke camp, he still hadn't arrived. Now I knew he was sneaking up on me. Glad I'd put the fire out, so he'd probably get lost on his way, I left. The woodland was dense, so I made camp again about 200 meters away, in a deep ditch, and covered my tent with branches. I was there a couple of days before a van parked conspicuously & at the other side of the river.
The next day I could make out two figures which from the big white trainers appeared to be young men. I crouched behind a tree for a while & watched, looking for fishing kit. None appeared. I left it a few minutes, then went back to see what they were up to. They had separated. One had moved a few hundred meters down river, & they were both crouching as if to present smaller observers, with their bright white trainers, & no cover, they looked very silly. A lorry parked up nearby on my side of the river. I had obviously been found we were in the middle of nowhere I was suddenly surrounded . I went back to my tent, cutting through a stream so as not to be seen by the teenagers on the other river bank & got packed up. On my way out I saw a footprint in the mud which wasn't mine. I'd been up & down through the mud all day, I knew this was fresh & very different to my own. It was headed towards where the teenagers had seen me. I looked but couldn't see anyone. I prayed hard for guidance out of there, & found it over a bank & through someone's farm.
I didn't get far before I noticed a light aircraft behaving suspiciously ahead of me. It was flying along, then suddenly veered towards me as if the pilot was doing his best to pull some Gs. You see that kind of maneuver in an air display, but it's not something I'd seen in a modern light aircraft before. I slid down an embankment to some trees before it could level up from It's turn & see clearly. As it came by I moved around a tree that I was obscured by it's trunk. It came over me & into the distance. I left the path to some nearby woodland. Camouflaged my tent up with branches & remained there for three days to make them think they had lost me. Or at least spread themselves further & thinner. I could hear the constant drone of the light aircraft above from inside my tent. It finally had enough midday on a Sunday. The river was still in my way. I found a railway bridge to cross by. The road bridges in the area would be under observation. From there I crossed farmland & traveled through woodland avoiding roads, crossing them quickly if I had to.
With Christmas days away and light snow I booked into a cheap hotel in Kielce. When I was ready to leave I posted Letters to the ,St. Petersburg administration. That is the local government, governor, vice governors & all other officials on their website. Whether they be in charge of press relations, traffic or whatever. I wanted everyone to know what was happening so nobody could easily ignore it. That'll fix them, I thought, & cheerfully set off down the main road south knowing I'd be far away by the time the letters arrived & confident that it would soon all be over.
Roughly 20 miles from Auschwitz I encountered a huge sand quarry inside which was a gargantuan bucket conveying machine, which was made to look small by the vast quarry containing it. It was in my way, & I wasn't going to be able to walk around it. I didn't like breaking cover to cross it. Especially since there was a car parked up on the long access road overlooking it. It seemed to have no good reason to be there at all. I went down into it, across it, & up the other side. The banks at it's edges were steep. I'd read that it was best to traverse steep banks by walking up them at an angle, rather than trying to go straight up. So that's what I did, through young pine trees a little taller than myself, & when I arrived at the top I sat to take my standard 15 minutes rest. after about 10 minutes had gone by I heard a rustling in the trees on the bank I'd climbed. Then I saw the head of a smiling teenager. He was traveling up at the same angle as me, a little further down. My first thought was what on earth can this young man possibly be doing in this huge quarry? Of course there was only one answer. I judged from the time he took to show up he must've been either hiding in the quarry waiting for me to come by, or following about 1/2 km behind me. He was heading off In what must have appeared to be my direction of travel up the bank & beyond, so I went the other way.
As I came within sight of the road through the trees I saw a purple coloured car driving unusually slowly. I didn't like it, I let it go by, then hurried across the road and into trees on the other side. About 100 meters into them, & not completely obscured, the car came creeping back along the road in the other direction. Through the woods led to another slightly narrower quarry, with some tree cover at It's bottom. again there was a car parked up in the middle of an access road overlooking the quarry. I made my way down only having to break cover briefly at the bottom. I found a large area of woods at it's other side, with a wide track heading as far as I could see in my direction. I traveled several miles until I came to an area of open ground which I certainly didn't want to cross in daylight. So I pitched tent & got a few hours sleep then began again about 3am through farmland in darkness. The good thing about Eastern Europe was that you could walk off road for a week & not be stopped by a fence around anyones land.
I arrived in Oswiecem at 2pm, 20 miles was roughly my limit in a day with what I was carrying. I walked into a hotel that had separate groups of backpackers in the foyer, & asked the lady to book me in for one night. Behind her was a spectacled man in his mid twenties. He looked interested in my arrival. He went on to discreetly take out his mobile phone, round the corner of a doorway, say a single word & hang up. He then re-emerged looking pleased with himself. I would've walked out & gone somewhere else, but I was too tired. I went into town & found an Internet
cafe that evening. I logged into
Yahoo! chat, & entered the adult webcam rooms where I expected to
find a friend. What
I would usually do is log into one room with a name I thought would be
recognised, then change rooms another twice in quick succession for
further recognition. Then
I would be silent & write down the
chat names which might contain cryptic messages to decipher when I had
more time. They were running a custom version of Yahoo! chat software
which allowed them to see somehow who had just logged into whichever
room. This could have been any one of a hundred. I guess the chat names
& rooms must've been appearing on a list as people were logging in.
Possibly to make sure every login was targeted for a porn link personal
message. Their software also allowed them to join a room with multiple
chat names. From time to time about six names would join or leave the
rooms together, this was a single user. The message I got wasn't a pleasant one. 'Chewed up & spit out', & then I got the PM with link 'fuckingasshole.com'. The first a reference to an enforced abortion, & the second an accusation of my part responsibility for it. Which I couldn't accept. There were many people responsible for the death, from the corrupt officials to the guards to the men who gave the order to those who carried it out, they all take money to be a part of the system whether they are doing the killing themselves or not. The captives knew that when I used information their captors would usually discover who I'd written to, know the source of that information & hurt them. (I'd written to anti-torture organisations about the electrocution of a pregnant woman). It wouldn't be roses for me either, they'd discover who I'd written to & where I was when I posted the letter or sent the email, & come after me, I had to fight big. However as in war timing & life are big issues in deciding courses of action. I think that if I'd known it would die I might've waited until it was born in the belief it wouldn't be aborted, but it would've died later without a doubt, they kill small children regularly to punish resisting mothers. Babies are quickly replaced. It was snowing hard when I went to see the former concentration camp, which added to the grim atmostphere. I left the hotel & walked down the road until I could find a pathway by which to travel out of sight. I found a dirt track leading to the rear of some houses & a railway embankment, so I followed it. Getting away was easy.
One evening I saw some distant hills & thought to myself, I'll get to those hills & then I'll make camp & do myself something to eat. It was taking a surprisingly long time to reach them. The reason became clear when I saw a cloud passing along some distance beneath their top. They were in fact small mountains, & a lot further away than I had estimated. It began to snow, which became quite deep. I was later to discover that mountainous areas suffer lower temperatures & more snow. I came to a point about 15 km from the Southern border with Slovakia that I had to use a bridge, (If you are going to Slovakia there is a studio containing captive women & children used for pornography production here: Seberiniho 1, Bratislava, 821 03, Slovakia) which meant I needed to join a main road. I joined as close to the bridge as I could, & left the main road at my earliest opportunity. It all took about 10 minutes exposed. A car pulled in ahead of me. I don't know why, but even the way it pulled over looked unnatural. The man inside didn't get out, just sat. As I approached a young girl came out of a house nearby. Ah! I thought, nothing going on here, he's waiting for the girl, but she just walked up the road. I looked back when I'd passed his door. He was taking out a mobile phone. I began to walk quickly to get into cover somewhere. 5 minutes later I'd left the road. A white Mercedes works van came speeding up the road & swung in at the foot of my hill. The driver got out & watched me travel, lighting up a cigarette. It was snowing hard, & cold. It wasn't an ordinary cigarette break to get out of the van, & as I saw in escaping Warsaw, he was accelerating very quickly for someone about to park. I stopped & waited to see if he would try to come up after me. He just stood.
The snow was getting deeper and the going harder. The poles were loving it, they all brought out their skis, & even had local ski lifts going. I had to get supplies one day, I went down into a village & got a week or two's worth. I had to pass a building site on the way. On the way back there was a works vehicle with blacked out windows parked in a lay-by ahead of me. I wasn't going to go up the hill to my tent with them seeing, so I turned and went the other way. I went down the road & around the corner, begining up somebody's driveway & managing to stay mainly obscured from the road by trees & some houses lining it. I reached my tent which was overlooking the suspect vehicle. Another car pulled up alongside it. A builder dressed as those on a site I had passed going to the village got out of the works vehicle & the man from the Mercedes van I'd seen before got out of the car. They spoke a while then the car driver walked in the direction I had gone & spoke to someone shoveling snow at the front of his house. I traveled alongside the road to the border crossing out of sight, hoping it would lead me to a petrol station or shop. The snow was going down into the top of my boots making my feet permanently cold & wet, my toes were looking messed up & I needed to rest. I saw a small green car several times as I traveled, going one way, then later the other. There was a bus stop nearby, though I didn't like to be on the road I didn't see much of an alternative. I hid my pack among some rubbish in the corner of the shelter, took off my green jacket & stuffed my long hair under my woolly hat. after about five minutes the little green car I'd seen several times came up the road from the direction of the border. he looked at me with a big smile on his face & spent so long looking back to try to see a backpack on the ground it's surprising he kept going in a straight line. I left the road again. I called the British embassy & asked them to call me a taxi. I would rest up a couple of weeks in a hotel across the border. They instead sent a police car which took me to have paramedics look at my feet. I was taken to hospital in Zywiec where I was told I had to stay.
I was there a long 3 & a half months. It was also frustrating that I couldn't help the captives. What would they think? that I'd left them or I was dead or something? First opinion of my feet was that I'd lose at least two toes. The doctors laughed when I said they'd be fine. I knew they would because I'd felt the blood return to them after two weeks of numbness when I prayed for their healing. I don't always get what I pray for but I had a good reason this time, I said I needed my feet since I'd promised to walk to Jerusalem. Then when the flesh grew back they said I was lucky. It was my pleasure to become friends with a famous Polish mountain climber during my stay, Kristov Gardaz, who has peaked some of the worlds highest with one withered leg. His wife Eva who collects NATO shooting gold medals was assigned to border control in the area I was off road, so had little sympathy for my toes.
Towards the end of my time there I was out at a local Internet cafe. I went into one & entered Yahoo! chat. Instead of the army of girl impersonators & people asking my 'ASL' I was used to since they'd become aware I was secretly conversing with the girls, I got a message from a friend, odd that was, because my chat name (dillantherabbit) wasn't one they should recognise. I'd entered one room, which had no activity, then another & another. The message I got was 'It's gone quiet in here. Why is that?' Then I understood that their software was showing them an IP, a Polish one with an English chat name. They never had my IP before, they'd always try to trick me into telling them where I was. I left the Internet cafe and didn't return there, or leave the hospital for some time after for that matter. When I did emerge I checked the email I'd given to those I'd written to from Kielce. There was a reply from St. Petersburg department of tourism, regarding my letter to the governor of St. Petersburg. A teacher who was visiting me to improve her English spoke fluent Russian, so she translated for me.
The letter basically said that the matters of child abuse & murder had been investigated by the Ministry of the Interior, no proof of this could be found, & so the investigation had been stopped. Odd I thought that they didn't mention the matter of captive prostitution. I was pleased that I had at last received a reply from somebody. It may have been that many were replying & that the messages had been deleted before I could read them. If the criminals were getting the post mark on the letters I was sending to locate me, they were also getting the email addresses I was giving for reply. Maybe this is the only one I was allowed to see, because it was telling me the matter was at an end. I later learned that It didn't matter which email provider or password I chose, they would always be reading my mail. I began to compose a letter & a longer mailing list to send it to, about 25 recipients now, Russian authorities and international human rights organisations. This time I explained that I would not give a reply address, I would simply continue to write until they were freed. Each time I escalated my lobbying I felt sure that it would finally do the job.
On release from hospital I took a bus to Krakow. I prepared about 23 letters & I signed up for an account with Mailvault, a free email provider which boasted to be able to protect it's users even from their government. Hopefully I could expect some replies this time. I posted them off & left Krakow still disappointed at my slow recovery. It was way past anybody's estimates. I traveled to Katowice, & was directed to university accommodation by tourist information, the cheapest way to get your own room in Poland. I began work at the Internet cafe in town. A couple of days went by. I was on my way home one evening when I became spooked for apparently no good reason, I looked behind me but could not see anybody following, there were no cars around. further down the road a car pulled in ahead of me, the driver looked stressed as I passed him by. I heard him leave the car & looked back to see where he was going. He was walking slowly up a side street watching me through railings as I went. Then another car pulled over on the other side of the street. The driver put on the interior light a moment, then sat smirking as I passed. One suspicious dude I can live with, but two in quick succession meant I had to act on it. When I got to the university building I went up a darkened drive, stood behind a tree & watched the road. A taxi came by, the passenger was frantically scanning the forecourt of the building. Now I knew for sure. I had paid for 4 days & had supplies enough to hand. I wouldn't leave the building. My room had an internal phone from where it was possible to dial a room number or call reception. After two days it began to ring. I didn't pick it up.
On the third day I made a move, though I'd paid for another night. When I handed in my key I was pleased to find I could leave by a back door. Their man power must've been stretched watching the last few days, because there was no sign of anybody at the rear. I went through minor roads & a grave yard, the stone entrance to which I hid in until a cab came by. I took it to the train station. A took a train to no particular destination a while then alighted & got onto another. Nobody from the train I was on followed. I got off again somewhere in the area of Sosnowiece. There was an Internet cafe near the station. I'd judged that they had located me in Katowice by my Yahoo! email accounts. I set up a test, I created an email account supposedly of a friend in Poland, & added it to my friends list. When I checked it for mail it had received a mail from me saying don't forget to write! I had copies of my passport, driving license birth certificate & email addresses of friends there. That I had been found by logging into a Yahoo! email address surely meant they now had all of this information.
Their corruption spread like a disease to anything that it had contact with. Having access to one email account meant they had access to any other I'd sent mail to. I kept about four, all Yahoo!, for different types of use, some business, some personal. They'd all at some stage had mail transferred from one of the others. This meant they had the addresses & telephone numbers of all the friends I'd made in hospital. From their telephone records the English +44 prefixed mobile number would stand out. Then from my mobile records they might possibly establish the numbers of other friends & family. Even if I changed my number I wouldn't be able to call anyone I know without the possibility that they would then discover my new number & be able to locate me whenever I used it. They were not what I'd call clever, but methodical. In my experience if there was an opportunity it was quite rare for them to miss it. However you do learn to do things in less ordinary ways & can get ahead of them. I had to be careful when I called anyone. I would have to be already located or somewhere safe, like on a train. It took a few hours to delete all of the mail & then close down the accounts.
When I came out of the Internet cafe there was a bald headed stocky man sitting In a car parked ahead of me. He was already in idle conversation on his mobile phone, but when he saw me he reacted, his manner became urgent. I went to the nearby station for the first train away from the area. where I was clearly the subject of another indiscreet operative who even stood beside me & put on glasses to look at the destination on my ticket when the vendor handed it to me. I had bought a ticket to some destination miles away, but alighted at the first stop. I then went stealthily through the dark side streets a short distance to the town centre, where I got on a bus from amoung a crowd. I traveled a mile or two on the bus, then got off when I saw a taxi rank. I fixed a price with the driver to take me to Krakow, which was several hours drive. From there I went to nearby Wieliczka, famed for It's ancient & working salt mines. I was there a few days I think when I logged into Mailvault to find a security measure had been tripped. The time & date of last login was blank. It was a bit of a worry that my Mailvault email addresses were perhaps not safe at all, but they did alert me.
It began peacefully as usual until I used Internet cafes. With highly suspicious activity around me again I took a long distance train to Zamosc, near the Eastern border which was a long way away & I found peace there. I experimented with anonymous surfing software & learned how to change the proxy settings in a browser. I would run a search with criteria like "free daily list" :80 :8080' which would return search engine results yielding some of that day's proxies without me having to visit the possibly corrupted web site from which they originated. When I was bored with Zamosc I went on to Lublin, a pleasant old town with lots of mediaeval buildings, my favourite kind of place. There was a stage set up, & various bands performed into the evening in aid of a politician running for the Polish presidency, a Mr. Andrea Leper. I couldn't believe what I was witnessing when some old guy got up on stage, took the mike & introduced the next act who were there representing the "Mafia organisation", he said proudly. Three middle-aged ladies came on stage & sang an operatic song. The Mafia man eagerly took the mike again afterward & said some stuff I couldn't understand. Then left the stage looking like he felt like everyone had been shown who he was & should show him appropriate respect when they encounter him. "Thank you very much Mr. Cornelli", said the compare in a quiet voice looking down at the stage like he was a bit embarrassed. It was Cornelli, Corniloni or something like that. A couple of people clapped enthusiastically, likely people he knew. Everyone else stayed silent. Great publicity for this Leper character I thought.
I was only in Lublin for one day before I gave myself away by visiting a site I ought not to have done. It was a 'web proxy' site, where you type a URL into a field box, and the site is visited on your behalf in a new frame. I saw in my history that I'd visited an av.rds.yahoo.com address by going there. I was deliberately avoiding anything to do with Yahoo!. I wouldn't even use their search engine. Their name was simply coming up too many times. I went back to my residence & didn't go back into town. There was a supermarket near where I lived & an Internet cafe in a back street. I used that until one day I went in to discover a networking program, WinVNC had appeared on all of their PCs. Then I got supplies & stayed in my building for a week, I would give the impression of having left. Then I went out as quietly as I could through the grounds & up minor roads to the Station & traveled to Radom.
There I gathered a couple of anonymous surf programs & burned them to a writable CD. I logged into Mailvault to find that not only was the last login time blank, but there was a message for me. Two Russian words in the subject line which I didn't understand, & to be honest neither was I interested in what the enemy had to say. Neither was there a 'from' address, just a blank space where it should be. There may have been a message by way of an image, they'd done that before, being reluctant to converse openly with me. If there was an image it would've been blocked by the email provider as one of their security measures. In any case there was nothing in the message main body, probably some kind of threat I thought, & dismissed it. A few minutes later I heard the three polish men who worked at the cafe discussing the 'Angelique' which I knew meant Englishman, they seemed perplexed at something that was going on to do with me. I added up that I'd been located again & that somebody had spoken to them. I deleted my Internet history, & went to the counter to pay & leave. You have to wait a minute said the man. Here we go I thought, sure I do. He got up & went & spoke with his friends about a minute. Then came back & told me how much I owed. I awayed quickly to my Hotel via back streets. I then found a bus that had some place out of town on it's destination board & got on it. It took me a good distance to a school in a small village. I walked a mile or two to trees near to a graveyard which had a well. I stayed a couple of days then went off in search of a small town on my map which had a railway station.
I took the train up to Warsaw for a day just to post another batch of letters so as to confuse them a bit. I wanted to stay in the south, eager to leave when my toes permitted, but I didn't want them concentrating around me. I found student accommodation in Krakow. It was a bit expensive as they go, & not so good. The toilet put me in mind of the characters at NaStudio because I had to flush it so many times to clear the pan. I'd no idea whether I'd been seen heading to Krakow or they went there because they knew I'd frequented it in the past, but the local Internet cafe worker was acting suspiciously & foreign files appeared on my floppy discs when I used them. I don't know what they were, I'd seen the same kind of thing before from a virus back in England. I left town for Czestochowa, that's where the real trouble began.
At Czestochowa Is Poland's version of the Vatican. All of Poland's Catholics travel on an annual pilgrimage there (Not all at the same time). In the days I was there the coach park was very busy. Inside the complex was crowded. I saw twelve confessional boxes going, inside each was a priest dressed like the pope, & each had a queue of roughly fifteen people waiting. There were lots of priests & nuns around. The shops in town sold all manner of religious wares from jewelry to large statues and crucifixes for churchyards. I found an Internet cafe, & began to familiarise myself with the Proxyway software that I'd burned to disc. I couldn't seem to make it work properly. I put it down to being my first effort with it.
At Czestochowa library the next day, in the reflection of my monitor the computer room Librarian sat behind me squinting far too interested at what I was doing on the computer. I looked at some maps of Austria, where I had no intention of going, too cold. I wanted to give them something useless to do if they came to look at my Internet history. I left the computer room through another room to the exit. There were two women in this room. They stopped talking when I entered & watched me leave. When I'd closed the door behind me I heard the 'clop clop clop' of one of the girls hastening to the computer room I'd been in, Hmm. I knew they were here & I knew it was the freeware download been tampered with or the proxy sites it visited. I'd been showing an Interest in this & other freeware downloads at various Internet cafes on my travels before I got one on CD. I stayed out of the town centre a couple of days until I thought it was safe.
I took a walk to the bus station to look at possible destinations. I passed a fast food bar there. At a table outside was a group of three men. One who was facing me eagerly raised a hamburger to a widened mouth to take a first bite. Then he saw me & lowered it again looking at me as if he was annoyed about something. I walked on a little way then turned to see what they were doing. Two of them had moved to the opposite side of the table from where they could watch where I was going. I looked at a display board and was joined by the annoyed looking man who, now standing was large. I imagine if he had his way he'd give me a beating & drag me into a van rather than sit at bus stations etc. for days in case I showed up. I could see he'd had enough of it. I left the station & crossed the road. Looking back, the big man was standing outside the bus depot building facing me. He turned away when I looked. I got around some trees & changed my direction over some waste ground. I became aware of a girl standing near a bus stop to my left she was facing me and watching my progress whilst speaking on a mobile phone. I got around a corner & sat on some steps near the entrance to a supermarket while I thought what I should do next. A few minutes went by when a young man who had the manner of a half wit showed up. He paced around a bit, then stood behind one of the supermarket entrance pillars & began tapping buttons on his mobile phone. His body was obscured, but his hand & phone were protruding. Then he shuffled behind the other pillar. While he was around there I walked off. Around a corner were a couple of taxis. I got into one of them & instructed him a series of turns to prevent anyone following without it being obvious.
I packed my things & left town for some woods a couple of days. When I returned the place was absolutely crawling with them. A response to my experimenting with proxies it would seem. My IP address had always been their No. 1 means of locating me. I got onto a bus, got off after about 1/4 mile at the Catholic complex wooded garden. I went into the darkness of the trees, around the complex & found a taxi rank, with hindsight not the best thing to use, but I hadn't seen this many before. I got into one and told the driver to take me out of town to a bus station.
The taxi driver took me to Klobuck. I watched the road as we went, we were overtaken, & had cars behind us at various points, but nobody was obviously following, the road behind was usually clear. When we arrived at Klobuck station 8:30 PM it was quiet, we got out & spoke to a local walking by to ask if he knew if any more buses were coming that night. The taxi drivers in Poland were usually helpful like that. When they took me to a hotel they would come in with me & speak to the receptionist on my behalf. Though Sometimes asking them to take me to a cheap hotel would get me straight to the cheapest hotel in town, & sometimes it would get me miles from the town centre to the furthest hotel they could think of. As my driver was speaking, a young man unhurriedly pulled up behind our cab, put on his interior light, & without ever looking at us wrote down the registration plate of our taxi. He then pulled out, parked in a position with a good view of the bus depot, turned off his engine & lit up a cigarette. I told my cab driver to forget it & take me further down the road, I asked him to drop me at an area of wasteland, which he did though bemused. I went off into the darkness & found somewhere to sleep, an old hut outside a factory. The next morning. I crossed a few fields, then woods. There was a red mini bus kept showing up ahead on the trails, which I dodged, & obvious observers along my way. It felt a dangerous place to be so I left.
I couldn't find a taxi to take me from Olesno station to the Hotel, the reason for this the staff told me was there were no taxis in Olesno. I looked out of my window. There were two young men with what looked to me a mischievous manner. I didn't know at this point I'd been followed here. I took a walk outside, nobody watching from any parked cars. I went to the town square where I recognised the bald headed
man from outside the
Sosnowiec Internet
cafe, he was
chatting away
again,
this time into a radio microphone like you'd see in a taxi or police
car. there were no taxi markings on the car. He was looking into his
rear view mirror as I approached from behind. He didn't look as I
passed him. I headed up another darkened road. This time the red
minibus drove down it & parked. The driver seemed a little put out
with me as he looked sideways at me through narrowed eyes. That was
that then, they were here alright. I went back to the hotel. I left my room (top right in image) to use the toilet that evening, when I came out I heard a door open at the end of the hall. I looked, but nobody emerged, neither was there a sound. I thought no more of it, & went the few paces back to my room. That night at 2:15am somebody came down the hall & barged the door of the room next door to me with their body weight at the same time yanking down the handle, the door didn't give. Inside was a group of backpackers, they didn't come out to see what was up. Then he tried the handle on my door. I'd hung a cooking pot on the handle, so that it went clattering to the floor. It was designed to wake me, but I was already awake. He stood there a moment in silence. Yes, this was my room. Then he went back up the hall, strained a short wee into the toilet & back to his room, which sounded like the one with the mysteriously opening door earlier. His feeble excuse for breaking in the wrong door would no doubt be he was looking for the toilet. The girl showed me where the toilet was when she showed me my room. She would've done the same for him. I went to sleep. In the night a hand grabbed me around the throat & began to strangle me, for some reason I just relaxed & prayed. Then I woke up, which surprised me, because it felt very real. I didn't go back to sleep again. In the morning I passed by the small smoking room on the way to the staircase down to the street exit. Inside was, by his build, skin condition & clothing what appeared to be a lone Russian drug addict.
I left the hotel with nobody in sight & went to the station. Near it was a Eurolines office. I went in & inquired when I might be able to get a bus to Germany. There were none until that afternoon. I passed the bus station which had a few people outside. Opposite was the train station. Oddly there was a taxi outside of it. The hotel lady had told me that there weren't any here. It didn't look like a normal taxi. It had a sign of a kind I'd not seen in Poland on It's roof, & no advertisements on it's doors. The driver looked at me expectantly as I approached. I'd a feeling this place was totally rigged. There were about a dozen people in the station building when I went to the ticket counter. I made some inquires about trains to Wroclaw & Katowice, which was entirely the other direction to Wroclaw then got on a Wroclaw train pulling in. When I got onto the train a frizzy haired girl watched me from the ticket office doorway & didn't let me out of her sight until the train began to move, then she went back inside. I'd been told by the lady that to get to Wroclaw I'd need to change train, when I arrived at the station where I was supposed to change I went instead to leave, but was directed to a waiting train by a man who had overheard me at the station. I thanked him & walked to the relevant platform. As I arrived a bus was pulling in headed about 6 miles North, I got on. An annoyed looking middle aged man appeared in the doorway of the station building in front of the bus speaking into his mobile. I can't lip read Polish, but I know when someone is cursing me. One passenger got on the bus after me before it left, Possibly following.
I got off the bus when it pulled up outside a train station with a waiting train & got on that. It was a long ten minutes before it left. This train was heading North a long way away from the area. It went through one remote station where there was a car parked up with It's doors open. There were three men stood outside of it, one talking on his mobile, another scanning the carriages with a look of disbelief on his face, I had the impression I'd reached the limits of the web they'd spun for me. The train went on a good distance further & terminated adjacent to another waiting train. So I got on it. which again was heading a good distance North. It terminated at Poznan where I had my pick of places to go. I went further North. I'd been traveling seven hours when I arrived at a small town station. Surely they didn't have the man power to be there. From Bydgoszcz a little further North, I hoped to be able to Catch a bus to Gdansk which was not so far now.
Locations of captives at pornication/privatefeeds.com Warning!! I've been spamming privatefeeds.com intensively & girls are being watched closely as a result. |
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| Key: Google affiliation Yahoo! affiliation Unknown affiliation |
'Romania' Alopoloi No.1 Building 1133 Bucharest, 7000 Romania ` |
Asian
Cuties/AC
Digital Media 1000 Lake Shore Drive1009, Chicago, IL 60611 U.S.A. |
'East
Europe' Nadeida 3, ee 306, et. 3, ap 56, vh. v Sofia, Bulgaria 1229 |
'European' HPT / Kreativ S.R.O. P.O.Box 32 820 07 Bratislava 27 Slovakia HPT / Kreativ S.R.O. Seberiniho 1 Bratislava 821 03 Slovakia |
| 'Russia' NaStudio ul. Vishnevskogo 11-17, 197022 Saint-Petersburg, Russia. (НаСтудио, ул.Вишневского, 11-17, г.Санкт-Петербург, Россия) |
'Phillipines' U12 Gamma Commercial Complex 47 Rizal Highway cor. Manila Avenue Subic Bay Freeport Olongapo City Philippines |
Maurizio
Geoni Address: Via Marconi 16 Paderno Dugnano Italy |
'Czech' TIMIFOTO, BOX 49, PRAHA 34, 130 04, CZECH REPUBLIC Cool content, CAT Production, V/ Casper Meier, Jecna 7, 12 000, Karlovo Nam- Praha 2, Czech Republic |
'Europe'
Phoenix Content Anker Koz 2-4 Em.4 3B Budapest, Hungary 1065 |
Locations of captives used for pornography content in the EU |
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| `TCS
Productions
240 19 Pushkinskaya Street, Saint-Petersburg, 189620
, 189620 Russia (240 19 ул. Пушкинская, Санкт-Петербург, 189620 Россия). |
TeenStudioz, Inc. Matthew Lisnowski pl. 3102, WP 860 Lappeenranata, 53101 Finland |
1st Content Sankt Pauls Plads 9 kld 1314 Copenhagen N Denmark |
RedRhose Productions Howard Fuller Contact 23 Tepecik Yolu Sok. 19 Etiler Istanbul Turkey |
Alexandre Moreira
Fotografia R. Barao de Ipanema, 53 )305 22050-030 RJ Rio de Janeiro Brazil |
|
UPskirt-World
PO BOX 1202 00-750 Warsaw, Poland upskirt@upskirt-world.com |
Internet Village Address: Av 27 de Febrero City, State: Santo Domingo, Dominican Republic webmaster@todoperverso.com |
Vladimir
Ovsienko Oismae postkontor PK5634 Tallinn, 13501 Estonia vlad@u2max.com |
Legal
Russian content
Prospekt Pobedy 17/38 Dneprodzerginsk, 51937, Ukraine |
|
|
United
Studios
Suite 284 LV 1050 Riga, Latvia Custodian of Records: V. Golubev |
LV-1029, Latvia, Riga, Rostokas ielu, 58/3 support@nudistmania.org (possible) |
Hegre-Archives.com Petter Hegre 8401-901 Lagoa, Portugal Hegre-Art.com other address: Rua Dr. Jose Antonio Santos 11, 1st floor 8365-139 Armacao de Pera ALGARVE / PORTUGAL |
Gurin
& K
Bavarsky Apt 9/15 Kharkov, Ukraine 310039 |
|
| StarStudio 1-69, Zirnu St., Riga, LV-1013, Latvia Custodian of Records: A. Radjko |
Kinematografs
Inc.
Address:
5-20 Ugales Street
Liepaja
Latvia
|
Nice
Content Varshavskoe shosse, 16-168 Moscow Russia |
Kaito
Film Richartzstabe 15, 30519, Hanover, Germany |
|
| Totem
Media totemmedia.com 2,4 avenue de l'europe, 78457 cedex France |
NaStudio 8 -14, rue Hornace Vernet Monaco, US F-92785 France |
Komsomol\'skaya
str. 8/2-17 Tiraspol, Moldova 3300 Moldova |
Karl
Inger
Gutenbergstrasse
15a, D-55294 Bodenheim,
Germany
|
|
Locations of captives used for pornography content in the US (trading names vary) |
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| Adult Friend Finder David Bloom Custodian of Records Various, Inc. 445 Sherman Ave, Suite C Palo Alto, CA 94306 |
Media
International 7771 W. Oakland Park Blvd122, Sunrise, FL 33351, USA |
Tom
Mayes 1066 47th Ave4, Oakland, CA 94601, USA |
CS
Photography Colin Spears 901 Lakeside Cir..8104 Lewisville, TX 75057, USA |
|
| 1
N. LaSalle St Suite 4200 Chicago IL 60602, USA |
Mike
Hott 2097 E. Washington St 1E-290, Colton, CA 92324, USA |
XXX
Media Group 207 1/2 1st Ave S. 300 Seattle, WA 98104, USA |
City
Legend Images 240 N. Virgil 118, Los Angeles, CA 90004-5293, USA |
Boycontent,
Inc 1251 Alton Road, 525 Miami Beach, FL 33139, USA |
| BBW
Betty Studios Chuck Kelley 4975 Clmt Mesa Blvd, 203, San Diego, CA 02117, USA |
KSP
Photography 2951 Marina Bay Drive 130-357, League City, TX 77573, USA |
Lifestyles
Photo Company Jim Grady 3375 South Bannock 220 Englewood, CO 80110, USA |
Fantasy
Content 14150 NE 20th St. Suite 99 Bellevue, WA. 98007, USA |
Peekshows Patrica Worrell 6245 Harrison Drive Suite 1, Las Vegas, Nevada 89120, USA |
| Harry
Red Dmitry Uston Uston Enterprises 5040-D Balitmore Drive 295 La Mesa CA 91941 |
Digital
Images Inc Brandon Turner Digital Images Inc. 4509 N Malden 2b Chicago, IL 60640, USA |
Surfside
Studios 13031 E. Los Neitos Road B, Santa Fe Springs, CA 90670, U.S.A. |
Cool
Piranha 344, 7954 Transit Road, Williamsville, NY 14221, USA |
Afterglow
Marketing 945 NW Naito Parkway 223, Portland OR 97209, USA |
| Arctic
Era Productions 207-34313 Forrest Terrace Abbotsford BC, CANADA V2S 7L2 |
Nickey
Milo 1040 N. Virgil Ave 118, Los Angeles Ca. 90004-5293, USA |
Greg
Gregory 3300 NE 192nd St. LPH 11 Miami, FL 33180, USA |
Mike
Legge Studio 7025 Woodman Ave. 12 Van Nuys, CA 91405, USA |
Artbody
Inc Thomas & Maggie Kelly PAK MAIL 5594 Coral Ridge Drive, 124 Coral Springs, Florida 33076, USA |
| Ambrosia
Vynne Productions 2929 190th Street 201, Redondo Beach CA 90278, USA |
Xtreme
Entertainment 3512 W. Rockville Rd. Ste. 158D, Indianapolis, IN 46222, USA |
UltraMedia
Productions 62 Indian Trace 132 Weston, FL 33326, USA |
Matt
Waldie 12217 Menaul B, Albuquerque, NM, 87112, USA. |
A.
Ben-Naim 9400 Lurline AVE F1 Chatsworth, CA 91311 |
| After
Hours Media Paul M. Games 211 South Street 338 Philadelphia, PA
19147 |
AMA
Content 3110 Polaris 9 Las Vegas, NV89102 |
Ambrosia
Vynne 1247 Lincoln Blvd 258 Santa Monica CA 90401 USA |
Bad
Girl Studios 8668 Navarre Pkwy 212 Navarre, FL 32566 |
ZIPMasters
Inc. 334 Cornelia Street 177 Plattsburgh, New York, 12901 USA |
| Wolf
Images 1591 Fitzwatertown Roar Unit 1 PO Box 341 Willow Grove PA
19090-4344 USA |
W.
Place 4501 Van Nuys Blvd. 215 Sherman Oaks, CA 91403 |
Varscity
Inc. 13428 Maxella Ave. 745 Marina Del Rey, CA 90292 |
Twinstar
Network Theatricals 22647 Ventura Blvd. 261 Woodland Hills CA 91364. |
Thomas
Purdy 638 Tranton St 462 Miami, Fl 33141 |
| Thomas
Mizzoni Photo Images 5564 Center Pointe Blvd 5 Canandaigua, NY,
14424. |
T.
Hunscher DBA Afterglow Mktg., 945 NW Naito Pkwy 223, Portland, OR 97209 |
Surfside
Studios 13031 E. Los Neitos Road B, Santa Fe Springs, CA 90670, USA |
Suite
Internet Productions 1475 S. State College 106 Anaheim, CA 92806 |
Thomas
Purdy 638 Tranton St 462 Miami, FL 33141 |
| 6538
Collins Ave Suit 462 Miami Beach, Fl 33141 |
S.G.
Media 20533 Biscayne Blvd. 1311 Aventura, FL 33180 |
Riverside
Digital Prod./XXX Content Brokers Inc. 300 Oak Street 150
Pembroke, MA 02359 Contact: Steven Tepper |
R.
Hutchins 1803 Campus Rd. 1 Los Angeles, CA 90041 Contact: Robert W.
Hutchins |
Pride
Studios Inc. 1521 Alton Rd. 525 Miami Beach, FL 33139 |
| Pixotna
Productions, Inc., 6130 Flamingo Rd 108 Las Vegas, NV 89103 |
4535
W. Sahara Ave. 217 Las Vegas, NV 89102, USA 801-684-0735 |
Peekshows
Patrica Worrell 6245 Harrison Drive Suite 1, Las Vegas, Nevada
89120, USA |
Paul
Markham 26895 Aliso Creek Road, Suite B, 206, Aliso Viejo, CA
92656-5301, USA |
Neb
Enterprises 700 S.Flower St. 1100 Los Angeles, CA 90017 D.B.Woo
700 S.Flower St. 1100 Los Angeles, CA 90017 |
| Mystic
Cat Productions, Inc. 2851 SW 31st Avenue 2181 Miami, FL 33133 |
Mirage
Media Corp. Sarah Armour 35246 US 19 North, 146 Palm Harbor, FL
34684 |
7025
Woodman Ave. 12 Van Nuys, CA 91405, USA |
Midwest
Content Providers 4106 E. Wilder Rd. 314 Bay City MI 48706 |
Michael
Vallee 4591 Orange Ave 104 Long Beach, CA 90807 |
| Michael
Petersen 5100 O'Bannon Dr. 62 Las Vegas, NV 89146 |
Meno
Kordatzis 334 Cornelia St, 177 Plattsburgh, New York, 12901 USA |
MeltedFlow.com
Melted Core Productions 9400 N MacArthur Blvd 124-257 Irving, TX,
75063 webmaster@meltedcore.com |
Maxpixels
4329 Colfax Ave 102 Studio City, CA 91207 |
Matt
Otsuka 6464 Woodman ave 202 Valley Glen, CA 92104 Contact: Matt
Otsuka |
| Mat
or Holly Waldie Isis Enterprises 3620 Wyoming Blvd. L9
Albuquerque, NM 87111, USA |
M.
Rubinstein Custodian of Record 22425 Ventura Blvd. 110 Woodland
Hills, CA 91364 |
M.
K. Ashcroft 1591 Fitzwatertown Road Unit 1 Willow Grove PA
19090-4344 |
KSP
Photography Ken Shuffield 3018 HWY 146 104 Seabrook, TX 77586 |
Lifestyles
Photo Company Jim Grady 3375 South Bannock 220 Englewood, CO
80110, USA |
| Kayla
Marie St Claire 9909 Topanga Canyon Blvd, 271 Chatsworth, CA 91311 |
Joesph
Berman 240 N. Virgil Ave 118 Los Angeles Ca. 90004-5293 |
Jims
Photo H.R. Krausman 4301 S. Federal Blvd. 110 Englewood, CO 80110
Contact: H.R. Krausman |
Jim
Hancock 1200 Foster St. 11 Atlanta, GA 30318 |
Jim
Gunn Productions, Inc. 2805 E. Oakland Park Boulevard, Suite 445
Fort Lauderdale, FL 33306-1813 |
| J.
Stephen Hicks Photo Inc. 13323 Washington Blvd. 101 Los Angeles,
CA 90066 Contact: J. Stephen Hicks |
Int'l
Online Services 7510 Sunset Blvd. 1400 Los Angeles, CA 90046 |
BadfishCash.com
Badfish Productions, Inc. 7750 N MacArthur Blvd, STE 120 262
Irving, TX 75063 |
BBW
Betty Studios Chuck Kelley 4975 Clmt Mesa Blvd, 203, San Diego,
CA 02117, USA |
Ben
Mizrahi 512 S. Hobart Blvd Suite 701 Los Angeles, CA 90020 |
| Boycontent,
Inc 1251 Alton Road, 525 Miami Beach, FL 33139, USA |
Butterballs
McFadden Brandon Elsey, Custodian of Records, 11993 Shoshone Ave.
300 Granada Hills, California 91344 |
Calpix
6464 Woodman ave 202 Valley Glen, CA 92104 Contact: Matt Otsuka |
City
Legend Images Joesph Berman 240 N. Virgil Ave 118 Los Angeles Ca.
90004-5293 |
Cloud
9 Content Ben Mizrahi, 512 S. Hobart Blvd. Suite 701 Los Angeles,
CA 90020 |
| Colin
Spears 901 Lakeside Cir 8104 Lewisville TX 75057 |
Cool
Piranha USA Inc. 344 7954 Transit Road Williamsville NY 14221 USA |
CS
Photography Colin Spears 901 Lakeside Cir. 8104 Lewisville, TX
75057, USA |
Custom
Images 9521-E Westheimer 250 Houston, TX 77063 Contact: Bill
Kennon |
Cybersynergism
KSEXcontent . 2829 N Glenoaks Blvd Suite 203 Burbank , CA 91505
Contact: Alison Wells-Rick |
| Daniel
Norton 929 Michgan Ave 4 Miami Beach, FL 33139 USA |
David
Koenig 23241 Ventura Blvd. 217 Woodland Hills, CA 91364 |
David
Schoen Photography David Schoen 25852 McBean Parkway 129 Santa
Clarita, CA 91355 |
Devil's
Films Micheal Rubinstien PMB 22425 Ventura Blvd., 110, Woodland
Hills, CA 91364 |
|
| Diversified
Production Management Contact Name: Tammy Jones 5945 Arroyo Dr.
103 90042 Highland Park U.S.A. |
Emit
Entertainment Corporation 369 11215 Jasper Avenue Edmonton,
Alberta, Canada T5K 0L5 |
Flortech
Greg Gregory Photography/CV Productions 3300 NE 192nd ST. LPH 11
Miami, FL 33180 Contact: Greg Gregory |
Futures
Entertainment PMB 208, 27758 Santa Margarita Pkwy, Mission Viejo,
CA 92691-6709, USA |
Global
Net Solutions 905 SE 13th Street 6 Ft Lauderdale FL 33316 USA |
| Greg
Gregory 3300 NE 192nd St. LPH 11 Miami, FL 33180, USA |
Gregory
Snyder 4378 Sepulveda Blvd 311 Sherman Oaks CA 91403 |
Halfastock 1000 N. LBJ Dr J1 San Marcos, TX 78666 | Hardrive
Productions P. Pilcher 4902 East Thomas Road 118 Phoenix, AZ
85018 Contact: Paul Pilcher |
Harris-Archives.com
Ron Harris Virtual Web Holdings, Inc. 1247 Lincoln Blvd. 181
Santa Monica, CA 90401 |
| Harry
Red Dmitry Uston Uston Enterprises 5040-D Balitmore Drive 295 La
Mesa CA 91941 |
Hotties
6464 Woodman ave 202 Valley Glen, CA 92104 Contact: Matt Otsuka |
Holio
LLC 23241 Ventura Blvd 217 Woodland Hills, CA. 91364 USA |
IBroadcast,
Inc. PMB 311 6947 Coral Creek Pkwy SE Newcastle, WA 98059-3159 |
|
Locations
of captives used for pornography content in
Canada
|
||||
| Steamybabes
Inc Vedran Hasangic Steamybabes Inc. 525 Highland DR West Suite 203 Kitchener, Ontario CANADA N2M 5P4 (xpf?) |
Aardvark
Fauxto 200 Sheppard Avenue
West 109 North York Ont Canada M3N 1A2 (xpf?) |
New
World Images Ltd. 2nd Floor 150 -
2188 5 Rd Richmond BC Canada V6X 2T1 |
Arctic Era Productions 207-34313 Forrest Terrace Abbotsford BC, CANADA V2S 7L2 | Video
Mac Media Inc Corinna
Klein 212-1811 Adanac Street Vancouver BC V5L 1P4 Canada |
|
Ego
Productions
David Kushneriuk )601-1199 Eastwood St., Coquitlam, BC, Canada |
David
Kushneriuk
601-1199 Eastwood St. Coquitlam, BC V3B 7W7 Canada |
|||
| Alexandre Moreira
Fotografia R. Barao de Ipanema, 53 )305 22050-030 RJ Rio de Janeiro Brazil |
Royal Ltd Rainer
Mokros Cl97 10-32, Bogota, Columbia |
Royal
Ltd Rainer Mokros Cl97) 10-32, Bogota, Columbia |
||
|
Shortlisted locations of captives used for pornography content in the UK (refinement
hampered by SOCA sending
immitation reports to counter those coming to me from abroad)
|
||||
| DFP
Ltd Steve Shovlar 2a Alton Chambers, 37 Church Road, Poole, BH14 8UF, UK |
Clive
Peele Elfordleigh Lodge 40, st Stephens Hill, PL15 8HW Launceston, Cornwall United Kingdom |
Lyford
Productions PO Box 111 Campbell St. Leicester, UK Le5 0ZU |
SterlingCash.com
Sterling Media UK Suite 310 Park Gate House Parkgate, Bradford, BD1 5BS, UK |
Cat
Studios 151, Chaldon Road Caterham on the Hill Surrey CR3 5PL UK |
| Andrew
Thomas Unit B114 Faircharm Trading Estate 8-12 Creekside Depford, London SE8 3 DX, UK |
Eyesore
Images Custodian of Records PO Box 106 UK Letchworth/Baldock SG61WA |
AR
Enterprises Douglas Rae 2 Mclagan Drive, Hawick, Scotland TD9 8DB |
Paul
Harness 41 Pondfields Dr. Kippax, Leeds LS25 7HJ, UK |
Viewfinders Simon Pocklington Sygate Cottage, Heydon Road Southgate Cawston Norwich NR10 4HZ, UK |
| John
Mason Studio The Studio, High Street, Eynsford DA4 0AA Kent England |
PicsMasters/Yuri Vershinin 186, Hammersmith Road London W6 7JD, UK |
MGP Office 74 34 Buckingham Palace Road London, ENGLAND UK SW1 0RH |
ADB
Photo 32 Sangley Road South Norwood London, SE25 6QT UK |
|