No Free Lunches (Part 1 of 2)

NO FREE LUNCHES 
(PART ONE OF TWO)

PATRICK NAUGHTER

Patrick Naughter, MI6 in Moscow?

I had been introduced to Patrick Naughter, a young Irishman working as an expatriate in Russia.

Patrick had worked in China earlier which I found interesting, even compelling.  I had liked him from the moment we met.

Patrick in 1998 was then a finance manager at the Grand Hotel Europe, arguably the most prestigious hotel of that class of luxury in Saint Petersburg.  I had lived there upon my arrival in the city for several weeks with former prostitute Svetlana Chuloshnikova and our cat, Whiskey, whose acquaintance we had made in the Siberian city of Kemerovo.

I had just been hired by and to replace another American expatriate worker, Stephen Gardner, who having successfully served in two of American Telecomms investment company, PLD Telekom's, Russian investments both located in Saint Petersburg, Russia.  The first at which Stephen had worked was BCL, or Baltic Communications Limited, a 100% owned telephone company with an international direct dial license and capability.  The second and more notable company was PeterStar Telecommunications, 60% owned by PLD Telekom, 11% owned by British phone company Cable and Wireless, the remaining 29% owned by Russian telecomms holding  company TelekomInvest.

Shortly after I was hired to replace Stephen was promoted to Vice President, PLD Telekom, with P&L responsibility for not one, but several ventures in the former Soviet Union.  PeterStar was the largest and most economically successful of these many companies.

The companies PLD Telekom invested in were fixed line phone companies, mobile phone companies, cable TV compankes, and radio stations.  This made PLD more of a mixed bag than the company I had left to join PeterStar.

For the previous nearly two years I had been employed by Millicom International Cellular, a Luxembourg company, who invested solely in mobile telephony related businesses in second and third world countries.  Today their Russian holdings are owned in entirety by Swedish investor TELE2.

I was to replace Stephen, and as a 6’5” Rolex wearing frat boy from UCLA whose physical form commanded the attention of whatever room he entered made my role all that much more challenging.

As Stephen left PeterStar they had finished 1997 profitably with revenues of about US $60,000,000.

The plan for 1998 was more growth both in dollar terms and customer phone lines installed.  As I began the role, PeterStar was behind its aggressive plan by 1000 lines and I do not recall how many dollars.  Stephen moved on to his new role but spent two weeks hand holding me so I could kick the tires, meet key employees, partners, and customers.

One of the first customers to which Stephen introduced me was Patrick Naughter employed by the foreign owners of the majority of shares outstanding of the Grand Hotel Europe.  While Stephen and I were of Irish descent, Patrick was from Ireland.  Polite, smart, well mannered, and were I a woman I would take note of his thick long eyelashes, but alas I am not.

We met and had lunch, and Stephen described that the Grand Hotel Europe was in its last year of a three year exclusive contract with PeterStar that ensured good market rates for the Grand, and for PeterStar all the telecomms revenues generated by this masterpiece of a hotel.

Stephen moved on and I took to the new position, flailing from time to time, succeeding more often than not, the sort of thing to which I had grown accustomed in my time as a sales man at Watkins-Johnson Co., Harris Corporation, and out in Siberia at the cell phone company I had helped launch, taking the third market entrant to first place in a matter of four months.

Working with Patrick I succeeded in re-signing the Grand Hotel Europe to a new three year exclusive contract and was proud that I had not that ball dropped.

Just as Stephen introduced me to Patrick, Patrick introduced me a few years later to a large and slightly overweight Canadian named Kyle Patching.

Kyle is especially foul and most notable to this tale in that he sent me for a time NLP coded suicide messages.  His tag line, ‘hang in there’ meant to subconciously to guide me to hang myself and commit suicide.  Nice guy Kyle.

Kyle is likely employed by the Canadian CIA, CSIS.

I considered Stephen as not only one of my two bosses, the other being Sergei Ivanovich Kuznetsov, now deceased, but also a dear friend.  In this I was incorrect.  Stephen was apparently in the employ of CIA and was therefore a US government gangstalker, while I was a ‘targeted individual’.  This explained why Stephen had been picked for work overseas when he had been a telecom sales manager of little note in the US, back when Sprint and MCI were competing strongly with former monopoly AT&T on long distance rates.

The plan at a high level was to debauch me, make me relatively wealthy, then destroy my home and professional life, chase me back to the US by means of a false death threat, a bit more gangstalking, this time by the corrupt FBI, a dollop of less than legal stimulants, and voila I was to be, in the words of Russian Armenian Egish Khachatrian, “this generation’s Lee Harvey Oswald”.  F*** me.

Back to Patrick.  We each moved forward in what are commonly called careers, with me running my own boutique corporate sales training company before accepting the role of COO and in six months time CEO of the Saint Petersburg Yellow Pages, replacing Adrian Terris who had served in that role for ten years.  Patrick, like Adrian, likely MI6 agents in Russia.

Today Patrick Naughter is general manager of a Doubletree Hilton hotel near one of Moscow’s three international airports, which one I don’t recall.

I do recall Patrick inviting me to join him to see U2 in Berlin.  The concert was wonderful as he and I seemed to share a passion for the music of U2.  I know that I did, and do not dare to speak for Patrick.

Patrick claimed he slept often with a Russian prostitute of Korean descent, Tanya Kim.  I recall Tanya with a level of affection as sex with her was always robust.  I had believed Patrick had had his way with her as well as he offered detailed explanations of how after having Tanya visit his Saint Petersburg apartment near the Finland train station he would worriedly hunt for her thick and long loose Asian hairs on pillows, sheets and the carpeted floor.  This done to hide his cheating from his Russian wife Irina.

Tanya to me was notable for how we met one night in a popular bar, Konnusheniy Dvor, long since closed on Canal Griboedova, a stone’s throw from the popular and reknowned Church of the Spilt Blood.

She like many girls working there, offered her services.  I recall accepting her offer in the early 2000s, might have even been the late 1990s, zipping off to her place, a small rented flat in the center for a quick yet satisfying shag, before we both returned to the bar, me for another beer and conversation with expats whom I don’t recall though suspect them now to have been in the words of my Russian FSB trained honeypot trap wife Svetlana Macy, “80% of your expat friends were actually intelligence agents”.  Patrick Naughter certainly included in this 80%.  And Tanya back to sell her wares.

I returned to Saint Petersburg in early 2006 as COO of the Saint Petersburg Yellow Pages.  Patrick had also returned from a posting at a Hungarian hotel to become general manager of two Marriott properties in Saint Petersburg.   I was happy to see him.  I thought it a pleasant coincidence that we had both returned in the same time frame to Saint Petersburg.

Now having learned more of how these security agencies like CIA and MI6 run our world I don’t believe in coincidences of such sort in my life.

Patrick often invited me to lunch where he worked, at the Grand Hotel Europe, and both of the two Marriotts he ran.  I was pleased to be invited.

Free food and friendship.

The classics.  Later it hurt to learn the friendship false and I had been bought cheaply, the price of meals, of food.  Regardless of how it was prepared it was just food.

I recall the first instance when I realized he was a gangstalker and no friend at all.  The corners of my lips turn down even now, years later, into a frown as I recall that first taste of betrayal.  It was the fall of 2014.  NCIS agent Doug Boyce had only a few weeks revealed that he had been CIA when we met in Russia in 1999 and that I was a target.

I had taken to posting truth to power on facebook regarding my discovery that my Russian ex-wife Svetlana Macy had been all along a fraudster and had with Alexander Tregubov, the Russian who poisoned me in August 2011 had run under FSB guidance a complex scam to lead me to divorce, to engage in wild gangbang sex, and to retreat from Russia under fraudulent death threat.

I posted to facebook as to her two extortionary threats to gain the half of the apartment in Saint Petersburg, Russia I still owned, as she threatened to email pornographic images of me in action to all my email contacts, and when that failed to disappear into the wilds of Russia with our son, then 13.

Weird things happened as I sat in a small motel room in Victor, NY, the Royal Inn on Route 96.  Today I understand I was under advanced FBI surveillance.  Back then I did not.  I'd get strange messages on facebook, recalling my trip to Thailand more than a year earlier.  Facebook messages asking me would I keep my mouth shut for 6 months for $3,000,000.  Then a few people I'd met in Russia asked me to remove that which I had posted.  I politely refused.  Then as if on a schedule, the matter, having been unseen to me, escalated, I received two Skype calls from the two men I had considered my closest friends on two consecutive days.  First was Patrick Naughter.  The next day American lawyer J. Christian Moore.  The funny thing is not before or after did they ever Skype call me.  That in itself was revealing.  I still considered them friends at that point, as my voyage of discovering I was a 'targeted individual' and they were government paid 'gangstalkers' was not nearly complete.  Heck I didn't then even know those two terms existed.

They both asked me to remove my facebook posts and attempted to persuade me if I wanted to find my son, to get him back, this was the way to do it.  I disagreed politely and in time was proven correct.  Within four months I had my son out of Russia and in the home I once owned in the farmlands of Victor, NY.  My tactics had worked, truth to power, self as bait.

I recall thinking how odd that they, Patrick Naughter and Chris Moore, would call me on consecutive days on the same matter with no prompting from me.  I recall how unnatural both conversations felt.  Cognitive dossonance run amuck.

Let's go back in time a few years, to before I was poisoned in 2011.

July 18, 2009.

Patrick and I went to Berlin.  Saw U2.  Snow Patrol opened for them.  Here comes the psy op prank that Patrick Naughter engaged in against me.  He had a friend in Berlin who he planned to see, and with whom he intended to see this stadium level event.  The friend’s name, Anton Hell, also a hotelier, and an out of the closet homosexual.  Anton was accompanied by a shorter younger man whose name escapes me.  We met prior to the concert the four of us, enjoyed the concert, me unsuspecting of the psy op played upon me.  I had liked Anton well enough and was aware that Berlin being likely the most open of German cities had a significant gay community.

So why the psychological nudge towards the German world of homosexuality?  As with Tanya Kim, another step towards debauchery that the CIA hoped would conclude with me being sex crazed, and drug addled, preferably becoming a homosexual kid fucker.  Sounds nasty?  It is.  CIA worked and works hard in such directions.  I hadn’t yet been introduced to hard drugs, as the way the CIA works when creating a troubled lone shooter type, they take their time, akin to boiling a frog.
In their intent to create “this generation’s Lee Harvey Oswald” they hoped, planned, and worked quite hard to create a backstory for a man to be universally hated, for what is more despicable than a child molester.

These men when jailed often shanked and killed there, likely my fate had I gone down that path.  My path into debauchery took me from a whore in Venezuela to one in Russia whom I’d later marry, she trained by the FSB and guided to come a knocking at my hotel room door on a lonely night in Russia so far from home. 

I stopped at that level for some time and Svetlana, this Slavic beauty beyond compare introduced me to group sex in Siberia with men and women.  I was thrilled, the stuff of movies.
Upon our move to Saint Petersburg Svetlana without advising me removed her IUD and thereby became pregnant by me.

At that point I felt more than knew that something was wrong.  Just as I lacked imagination eight years later when meeting Russian spy Anna Chapman to think her employed by the most famous of modern day Russian spy agencies, I of course never considered that Svetlana was similarly committed.  I pushed Svetlana to an abortionist’s table and relented at the last minute, taking her by her golden hand and rushing out of the place accepting somewhat fatalistically that we would become parents together, and I would never abandon that child, who became my one and only son.

On June 20, 2014 Svetlana, who had conned me into leaving Russia in October 2013 as part of a fraudulent death threat organized by her, Alexander Tregubov, Egish Khachatrian, Genya Kosheleva, and others, admitted to me much, explaining why our relationship had been so bad for so many years.  She said:

1. She never loved me.

2. She loved the man who poisoned me in August 2011, Alexander Valerievich Tregubov

3. He was sterile and could not impregnate her

4. I could impregnate her

5. The only reason she remained with me upon the birth of ohr son was the lifestyle I could afford her (I recall her spending on average $2000/month on childrens toys, clothes, makeup, etc. and being my what I perceived as her combination of laziness and self centered ness being quite upset)

6. She and her Tregubov had somehow had access to eavesdrop on all my phone calls, emails, internet access and whereabouts from 1997 when we began to cohabitate

In that moment all became clear as to why I threw Svetlana off me on our wedding night when she attempted to become impregnated by me again, and why our relationship was as bad as it was for so many years, leading to my sleeping with over 400 women in Russia and South America, more than a few men, those encounters quite anonymous, why she had on her own baptized our son Russian orthodox without informing me, and why her ‘street theater’ supposed initial meeting with another prostitute, Evgeniya Viktorovna Kosheleva in May of 2012 in our apartment on a night she was to have been away as a chaperone for a sleep over to which our son had been invited seemed so artificial, because it was.

I recall that evening in great detail as it was a playoff game 7 between the Boston Celtics and the Philadephia 76ers and as the two women fraudulently argued as to which of them loved me more, I found my attention drawn to the more honest rivalry of these two legendary East Coast NBA teams.  The Celtics won and advanced to the next round, and by morning, I advanced as well in the mystery of my life and left the apartment to move in with Genya leaving my luxurious city center 210 square meter apartment for something akin to a rathole several metro stops to the North.

In retrospect I was given two chances few men enjoy.  I lived, loved, and believed twice I had saved fallen women from this world most dark and treacherous.  In both cases I was played.  I was the fool.  Though the sex was good, especially with waiflike Evgeniya.

Memories.

As to Sergei Kuznetsov, again passed away for several years now, when I knew him and worked with him, Sergei had been general director of PeterStar.  Later Sergei became CEO of the Russian AT&T, Rostelecom.  Sergej is also of note as he had been the first CEO of Russia’s first cell phone company, Delta Telecom, an NMT-450 1st generation cellphone company based in Saint Petersburg, Russia.

As to Patrick Naughter, Google him, get the number for the Doubletree Hilton hotel he manages in Moscow and ask him, did he sleep with prostitute Tanya Kim or was that a lie?

Ask Patrick did he introduce me to Anton Hell in Berlin as part of a complex psy op nudge into debauchery?

Then ask Patrick is he in fact employed by MI6?

Then let me know what you learn.

Matter of fact, let the whole world know.  Boys like Patrick Naughter, Steve Gardner, Kyle Patching, spies, work as deceptive gangstalkers, and for what?  Self interest mostly, to get a bigger piece of the pie and to mindf*** others, like you and me.

The cruelest psy op mischief Patrick played upon me was also prior to 2011.  Patrick invited my family to join him at his wife's dacha in Pskov.  We both had sons about the same age and both had Russian wives.  His boy Ciaran was perhaps a year older than my boy Nicholas.  I had enjoyed meeting Patrick and taking the boys on walks together.  Ciaran went to the Anglo-American school while it was still in operation in Saint Petersburg, now closed due the politically motivated closures of the American consulate and British consulate in Saint Petersburg upon whose support the school had relied.  My son went to a nearby Russian school.

I had never any reason to suspect that I was a target, Patrick an MI6 gangstalker until my journey down the rabbit hole of 2014.

I accepted Patrick's invitation and Svetlana, Nick and I made our way with Patrick his wife Irina and Ciaran to their dacha in Pskov.

Unexpectedly there was another child invited, a friend of Ciaran's which added a dimension to the children's play.

Patrick produced a bottle of vodka from the freezer and we began to imbibe.  I recall a female Russian friend of Irina's appearing and mildly flirting with her in my drunken state.  No biggie.  What I recall mostly was Irina becoming upset with my son, this due to Ciaran giving more attention to the other child on some level.  The end result was that Irina banned my son Nicholas from playing with their son Ciaran for a year.  This bothered me tremendously.  I took being Nick's dad seriously and felt more than knew bad things were afoot.

In 2014 after leaving Russia under a fraudulent death threat and getting informal lessons in psy ops and gangstalking from ex-CIA NCIS agent Doug Boyce as he worked his way into my confidence so as to better make it hurt when he would in a few weeks time betray me, all this in order to push my buttons a la Myron May to make me cross lines and get me positioned to be a patsy for an assassination attempt on Obama and failing that a deranged lone shooter type to be put away if not shot on the street like a dog, and once jailed, shanked quieted forever.

My advice?

Don't stay at the Doubletree Hilton by Vnukovo airport in Moscow, should you have the misfortune to see Patrick Naughter, cross the street, and never ever accept invitation for a free lunch with that man.