At the start I
had been visiting
chat rooms ( Pornication /Private-feeds) in
which (captive) semi clad girls would hang out trying
to encourage visitors to purchase a
private show. I've learned much about the huge Mafia involvement in the
Internet while trying to help these people over the last four years. It
is toxic to
children & insecure. Perhaps
you'll agree with me as you read on that it's foolish the way we lay
ourselves bare by trusting it with our banking
details, credit
cards or personal information the way we do, cybercrime now being more
profitable than the illegal drugs trade - worth more than $100 billion
a
year (see RBN
).
I went back to Pornication while I prepared to sell up my shop to leave
England indefinitely with the proceeds. I wanted to encourage girls I
knew & liked & who I knew could do better to see the waste, the
value of bodily integrity & find some other way to earn a living.
It transpired that they did not have the option. That they were
prisoners with no hope of release, allowed only the kind of human
rights meted out by Mafia, who were their captors. Pornication was
transmitted mainly from St. Petersburg Russia & a studio in Ontario
Canada. 'Chat op' , the man keeping an eye on the chat was Mafia, and
based in Canada, so I would expect most of the Canadian girls to be
captive too. These days most on site are from Eastern Europe (Hungary, Czech Republic, Slovakia, Bulgaria, Romania). 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, & ultimately their
own. 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', or other escort establishments or housing facilities
probably nearby. It's my experience that they can be moved between
buildings within easy walking distance under guard. The deeper I dig
for trafficking in Tokyo the more names are coming up, many operating
in the Roppongi district of Tokyo, the problem we face here is integral
& girls doubtless shuffled around. 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. |
|
Captive at NaStudio
|
|
They are locked
away for the use of Japanese
business men who like
beautiful Russian girls, but also in lower profile prisons away from the city. I've been having the trouble that although I often hear when the Trafficking takes place & sometimes the destintion, I tell authorities but the girls are hidden away until the heat dies down. I decided to fly out to St. Petersburg to see
what I could do to help. Back to the begining then, captives passed me a link to a web page
which contained the destination address, a 2257 compliance notice.
The address was NaStudio
ul. Vishnevskogo 11-17, 197022 Saint-Petersburg, Russia.
Pornication was where I initially
met with captives. Also though, they are working ifriends, one
girl being shown under several different chat names at any one time.
ifriends were also showing heavily pregnant girls under the heading
'alternative' about six of them the last time I saw. They stopped
shortly after a batch of letters on the subject to authorities, but the
captives are still there. A
search I did at the time revealed an interview with an unashamed Mafia
boss of some kind talking about his purchase of ifriends, and
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 and
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 especialy thick with them. If you try to
converse with one their jailors will likely tell
you they are a 'bot', & they might periodicly enquire "any real women in here?". They are very human. As time went by I discovered
that yahoo are a largely Mafia owned company. Not entirly, Microsoft have shares in Yahoo! but it is a huge problem they have. You can read about their indiscriminate management structure facilitating organised criminal involvement here. The
children born in captivity are allowed to be born because they are
used for Internet Pornography. I've encountered at least one former KGB
agent in Mafia employ.
I was weary
when I arrived, but couldn't wait until the next day before I saw the
address I'd 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. |
 |
|
NaStudio, The block & beyond in use by Mafia
|
|
|
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
and 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, and
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. 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 moved to a cheaper 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.
Beyond the Karpovka river, on the
other side of the street was a derelict building (No.39). 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 and
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 and
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.
Tallinn Estonia
|
 |
Tallinn
old town
|
|
I'd seen the
corruption problem there first hand, I'd been there just 3 weeks but
had twice been robbed by police. I'd been told that jobs in politics
and 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 and
spoke with captives half leaving e-mail in my account to be read, and
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,
and 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 e-mail 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 e-mail 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 and
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 and
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. Along my way I'd seen, tires,
plastic bottles, polystyrene, steel wire, a buoy a large quantity of
string & deadwood was everywhere. I had raft building instructions
in my survival handbook, & so decided if ever there was a time for
me to build a raft, it was now. I wanted it good & thick, it was
cold
here, & I didn't want to be floating with my legs several inches
below the waterline. Neither did I want my kit soaked. I built away
happily over the next couple of days, until I looked up from my work
&
saw a van parked at the other side of the river. I stopped work for the
day.
The next day I could make out two
figures which from the big white trainers appeared to be young men. I
watched them crouched behind a tree for a while, 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. It was strange what I did next. I decided I was too tired
to get packed up, & that I would continue with my raft, although I
had obviously been found. I just didn't think about it. I merrily went
off to find an old chair seat I'd seen dumped at the wood side, to make
a rudder. When I got near to the place where most of the junk had been
dumped there was a green lorry there. Dumping something maybe? 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 collecting for the raft, I knew this was fresh & very different
to my own. It was headed towards the raft, which I supposed must've
been seen from the air. 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
might
have stayed longer, especially since I'd injured my back trying to drag
my bulky raft out of the woods onto the sand, it felt heavy enough to
sink, but three days food was all I had. 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. It was a couple of
weeks on the
approach to Krakow when the plane showed up. It was flying across my
path in the distance, then swung in my direction & flew over me.
When it was far away I left the road towards woodland. I only managed
to get a couple hundred meters before it turned then came back &
did
another pass, then flew off. I called it a day, found some trees
further along, & camped up. So I wouldn't be in the middle of a
field
if he decided to come back. The next morning was a misty one & I
made
good ground early. No sign of the plane. It was going to be off road
again for the foreseeable future, & I'd better forget about going
through Krakow. I headed SW to pass it by I thought I'd head to
Auschwitz instead. They'd know from my email correspondence with
captives that I was moving
south.
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.
Auschwitz
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
a
