Log 1 - Confessions of a Professional Killer: введение профессиональной убийцы

Confessions: Log 1



Name: Bohdan Stashynsky
Occupation: Professional Assassin, Espionage Agent for the Soviet Union, Member of KGB, Loving Husband
Lifespan: November 4, 1931 - Present
Birthplace: Borschovych, Poland





I am strongly communistic. I believe in helping my country to create a better Soviet union. To fulfill this goal, I gathered information, took on aliases, and killed.


I only killed a total of two people in my time, and it's quite sad that I did not have the chance to rid this world of even more evil. But I am very grateful for being given the chance to serve my country in the most "humane" way possible.


I am a fiercely loyal member of the KGB which is the intelligence and internal security agency of the Soviet Union. KGB [Russian, from K(omitet) G(osudarstvennoĭ) B(ezopasnosti)] ordered me to kill devils that tried to undermine and harm the deity that is the Soviet Union, home to yours truly and my beloved wife as well as some of the most intelligent and strong Russians ever to have lived.


The three unlucky souls I was ordered to send to the depths of hell included:
1) Liv Rebet - 1957 - death by Cyanide Poison Spray Gun Model 1
2) Stepan Bandera - 1959 - death by Cyanide Poison Spray Gun Model 2
3) Yaroslav Stetsko - 1960 - attempted death unsuccessful


I am here today to tell you, my dear reader, of the story of my life. And you are here today, to listen to every word I have to say. For if you don't, you will become another one of the lives I take.


I was born on the 4th of November in 1931. I was born with a destiny: shape the future of Russia by eliminating it's defects and faults, therefore leaving my country a much better place without them. My victims were all killed for a reason: defend the Soviet Union. I have done nothing wrong but to obey my superiors, since they had the best interests of the Soviet Union in mind when they ordered the assassinations of Rebet, Bandera, and Stetsko.


I would continue the path of my life, until finally, years after I executed these traitors to my country, my wife finally persuaded me to admit my "crimes" to the U.S. government. Crimes! As if I had commited any! Everything I've done was done to help my country! Yet, I love my wife even more that I love my art of killing, and so I put down my pride and "confessed" to the public, being a traitor to my own country just as Rebet and Bandera were. Yet, love knows no bounds, and I am bound to do just as my wife dictated to me.


I am now seen as a horrible human being who unhumanely took the lives of two human beings who did not deserve their untimely death, when I should be honored as a hero who saved the downfall of the Soviet Union. But no matter. I am not so dumb as to tell all truths. I have escaped death where death awaited me.


But all in due time. I will show you the high points of my life as well as the event that made my life's work all fall down.


Confessions: Log 1 - end


- Bohdan Stashynsky

KGB's Logo

Image Courtesy of Google Images

Log 2 - Beginning of my Career: Начало моей Карьеры

Confessions: Log 2




The beginning of my career began with a small crime. It is ironic isn't it? That a small crime would lead me to do some of the greatest deeds (although my wife calls them murders) in history.


In 1950, I was riding the train home from school in Lviv one day without a ticket. The policeman who caught me agreed to let me off if I spread false information to the UPA through my sisters who were part of the blasphemis organization.


UPA stands for the anti-Soviet Ukrainian Insurgent Army, and my parents and siblings were strong supporters of it.  


Riding the train without a ticket was not my "small crime."
Betraying my family was. I lied to my sisters and told them I had heard some top-secret information from some agents arguing with each other. Of course this information was false. I felt guilty at first, but I knew the Secret Police were watching my every move. And I felt a duty to my country. I would lie to my sisters, I would betray my family, but I would help my country.

KGB Logo 2

Image Courtesy of Bing Images

This was my first good-deed to the world. I infiltrated the UPA through my sisters and helped the Soviet Union become even stronger through this elimination of the enemy.


I helped to destroy the remnants of the Ukrainian national liberation movement.


It was through this my service to the Soviet Intelligence Agency that I was called by the KGB to work for them just 3 years later. But that is a story for another time.


My prison guards are ordering me to bed, and it is curfew time.


Confessions: Log 2 - end


- Bohdan Stashynsky 

Log 3 - Inge Paul: Моя Красивая Жена

Confessions: Log 3




It must surely by destiny that brought me here to my career and to my future wife. I am sure of it.


It was during one of my espionage training sessions that I met Inge Paul, the most delightful creature I've ever met in all my 24 years of life. I had never felt this way before.


The KGB has always taught me to be ruthless, emotionless, unfeeling. But this feeling when I look at her face is contradicting all the notions the KGB has taught me.


I will start from the beginning now.
It was 1954, and I was training intensively in Kiev, learning - and mastering - German and Polish, two languages the KGB thought were necessary for me to learn as well as accquainting myself with the intelligence case of the USSR.


After I finally graduated from these studies, the KGB honored me with medals and a banquet, and sent me to Poland to see if I could retained what I had learned.

Medal I received from KGB as honorary member

Image Courtesy of Google Images

It was through this that I received my new name, new history, and new future from the Main Department of Intelligence in Moscow.


My new alias was John Leman. I was not Bohdan Stashynsky anymore.


Yet, it was through my graduation in these studies that I met Inge Paul.


There was a dance held amidst one of the banquets the KGB held when I graduated from my espionage training. The KGB surely had great plans for me, my future, and the future of the Soviet Union.


It was then, in 1954, that I met Inge Paul, although she knew me as Joseph Leman, not Bohdan Stashynsky. It irritated me that she didn't know, and could never know without jeapordizing my career, my true identity. But it was of little consequence. With my fake name and history, I could be with the one I loved.


Others haved called her plain, even quirky or strange at times, and certainly unremarkable. But I was in love. She was the most interesting creature I had ever seen, and nobody in the USSR, even the higher-ups, could change my opinion of her.


I desperately wanted to make her my wife. But complications from the KGB prolonged the wedding. When I announced to my fellow spies that I had plans to marry Inge, their reactions were full of horror. I had expected at the very least tolerance of my marriage to Inge, and congratulations if not, but horror was completely unexpected.


I understood the KGB's reason. Inge was a German, and marrying her would seem like a betrayal to the KGB, the organization I had been serving so faithfully for so many years. Yet I could not fault myself for falling in love with her. Inge was beautiful. She had no criminal record. Of course, she did not have the best of table manners, and she was a little clumsy at times, but I loved her all the more for it. Nothing the KGB said or did would convince me otherwise.  


This was my second betrayal. But the KGB eventually allowed us to marry, and I was allowed to continue my career and marry the most wondrous woman in Europe. The wedding day is set for March 23rd, and I absolutely cannot wait.


This happiness lasted for many long years. But not long enough.


Confessions: Log 3 - end


- Joseph Leman
  aka Bohdan Stashynsky

Log 4 - First Assassination: Первое Убийство

Confessions: Log 4


My espionage career took a drastic turn when I was summoned to the headquarters of the Soviet intelligence in Karlshorst. There, I was given the most important job of the century.


I was to assassinate Lev Rebet, one of worst enemies of the USSR and a leader of the Ukrainian emigration.


This was a political assassination, and I had no remorse or mercy for my victim. Rebet was intellectual and ideological. He was an anti-Soviet Ukrainian writer and publicist, just like my sisters and parents who strongly supported the Anti-Soviet Ukrainian regime.


I was taught not to have many opinions of my own by the KGB. They encouraged me to follow orders and enjoy life through that. But I thought Rebet was a hideous man, inside and out. On the outside, he was of medium height, with glasses, and had a bald head. On the inside, he did his best to undermine the Soviet Union. 

Lev Rebet: My first victim

Image Courtesy of Yahoo

 Needless to say, I almost enjoyed his death.


In 1957, when I had just turned 25, the KGB ordered my first assassination. I was to use a cyanide capsule gun, and inject a small stream of poison gas into Rebet's face.


This gas was wonderful. It was deadly, and invisible. It was a colorless, odorless gas that caused the blood to clot almost immediately after intering the bloodstream. These toxic fumes cut off the arteries supplying the brain of blood, making the death look like a heart attack. It attacks the body quite quickly, taking only a mere 15 minutes to render the victim dead, and a few minutes later, the poison would disappear from the body, leaving no trace. When an autopsy would be performed hours later, the victim would be pronounced dead of heart failure.


It was the ultimate weapon. It was made by the Soviets, the ultimate race. And I, the ultimate assassin, got to test it out.

Cyanide Capsule Used in Mission 1

Image Courtesy of nytimes.com

The day I was to murder Rebet quickly approached. And I after I broke into Rebet's house while he was at work through the back door, which he stupidly left unlocked, I decided that Rebet should die elsewhere. This evil anti-Soviet should not die in the comfort of his own home.


I was given drugs to widen my blood vessels just before the assassination just in case I were to breathe in even a tiny amount of poison. As you can see, I was very valued by the KGB.


Assassination LR
Time: 9:30 a.m.
Date: 12 October, 1957
Place: Munich.


I entered Rebet's work building, disguised as an ordinary working-class man with a newspaper in his hand. In this newspaper, quite ingeniously hidden, if I may say so myself, was a fully pumped poison atomizer mist gun, waiting to meet it's victim.


I was prepared to lie in wait for when I saw Rebet, and I walked around the building aimlessly for a short while. It was only when I was heading down stairs, that I saw Rebet heading up. I inconspicuously shot the stream of poison mist in his face, and kept walking down the stairs at a leisurely pace. The worst thing a assassin can do is run from the scene of the crime. I could hear his body thump onto the ground behind me, but I did not stop to find out.


The next morning, Lev Rebet's death was reported in the news. He died of a "heart attack."


Mission 1 - Complete


Confessions: Log 4 - end


- Joseph Leman
  aka Bohdan Strashynsky

Log 5 - Public Confession: Общественное Признание

Confessions - Log 5


I have done it. The men in black are coming for me. And I will be in for a long prison sentence.


In case you haven't heard the news yet, althought it will surely be in the morning paper, I have confessed to my crimes of murdering two political figures.
Yesterday, on August 12th, I publicly confessed to the public of my crimes. My murders.


My wife convinced me that what I had done was morally wrong . . . when she found out about my secret identity.


I had been Joseph Leman to her throughout our entire marriage. The Soviet Union had allowed me to notify her of my job regarding Russian political and intelligence affairs, but that was all she knew about my career.


It was only when my wife discovered she was pregnant.


When she told me the news over dinner, I was elated! I had been an assassin, one who took lives, even if these lives were taken for the good of my country. It seemed impossible that I could give life.


I had not realized that the KGB had bugged my home. We live in a one-bedroom apartment in Moscow owned by the KGB. We were constantly being watched and heard. Secrets were unheard of in my household.


When I arrived at work the next day, my bosses confronted me.
"Abort the baby," they said. My was was frantic. She kept screaming her head off that I should not work for the KGB anymore if we were to lose the baby over it.


I loved my wife.
I had no choice but to agree.


It was terrible. But I had to give up my career. I had to resign.


KGB was horrified. I was one of their most valued agents, and I could not simply walk off on the job if I desired. They tried to calm me down, and even stated that they would not push me on the street even if I quit. I'd still be paid my previous salary of 2500 rubles until I found work (aka retake my post as Soviet espionage and intelligence agent.)


It wasn't long before I cracked. My wife was being kept in Moscow. I was deported to East Berlin. The desire to see my wife again was overwhelming. It was horrible. My wife delivered our beautiful child into the world while we were away from each other. But I was so grateful that both my wife and my child were safe.


My gratitude was useless. A few days after my child was born, my wife left him with a neighbor. She only wanted to meet me, for we had not seen each other in so long. That night, my son died. Choked to death by the neighbor, who knew nothing about infants, especially newborns.


I never met him.
I'll never see him grow up.
I'll never help him prepare his future.


If there is anything in the world more horrible than realizing your wife and son are in a different country, it is that your son has died in that country.


If there is anything in the world more dangerous than the work of a Soviet spy, it is the role of a retired spy.


Hence, I took my job back. I emersed myself in my work to forget my grief. I enrolled in courses at the Institute of Foreign Languages in KGB to perfect my mastery of Western language, culture, and accent. Everything had to be perfect for my next job: kill Yaroslav Stetsko.

But soon after plans were made to assassinate Stetsko, the mission was called off. 

I was forced into isolation. I rarely saw my wife. 
Then I realized it. I was not a valued agent at KGB.

I was merely there tool.

It was then that my wife and I made plans to escape to the West. 

It was then that my wife discovered I was Bohdan Stashynsky, former espionage and intelligence agent for the Secret Police of Russia. I was not Joseph Leman. I was a ruthless assassin who heartlessly killed two political figures because my superiors ordered me to. 

Inge was horrified. So much so that she demanded that I confess my crimes to the U.S. Embassy. 

I do not regret what I've done. It was for the best of my country. But I love my wife more. And it was for her that I picked up the phone, and made the call that changed my life.

I am now a dishonored husband.
I am now a traitor to the KGB. 
I am now in prison, awaiting trial.

This is the life of an espionage agent.
This is the life of a professional assassin.
This is the life of a secret intelligence informer.
This is the life of an ex-KGB member.
This is the life of Bohdan Stashynsky.

Confessions: Log 5 - end

- Bohdan Stashynsky