Stephen Gardner and Christian Courbois, friends or CIA gangstalkers, you decide

Stephen Gardner and Christian Courbois I met two American expatriates in Saint Petersburg, Russia in 1998. Their names were and remain Stephen Gardner and Christian Courbois. Stephen left Russia after a successful career as a senior executive working in the Russian Telecomms sector in the mid 2000s, hiring me in April of 1998 to replace him as commercial director of Saint Petersburg’s largest city wide all digital phone network, a company called PeterStar Telecommunications. PeterStar was sold a few times and is now a department of Russian national cellular network, Megafon. Stephen was my boss for over two years on behalf of the 71% American shareholder in PeterStar who paid both our salaries. I had also believed Stephen to be a dear friend. As senior NCIS agent Douglas Boyce told me in 2014, I had misperceived much in my life, Stephen’s friendship among those things misperceived. Stephen today serves as marketing director for the US branch of an Israeli medical marijuana company and resides in Sarasota, FL with his Russian wife Maia and their two children. Christian Courbois, of Boone, NC, came to Russia fresh out of university to become an entrepreneur in the then newly opened Russian mail delivery system, creating a Mailboxes, etc. In Saint Petersburg, Russia called Westpost. As part of his bitter divorce from the mother of his two children, Cleopatra and Marcus, Christian ceased to be owner and general manager of Westpost, ceding the company to his ex-wife Lyuba Courbois, a former Ernst and Young employee before marrying Christian. Today Christian works as the commercial director for Entogourmet, a business in the food industry of Saint Petersburg. Like Stephen I had been misled by these two to believe we were dear friends, fellow American expats in the wilds of Russia. Stephen likely introduced me to Christian while he was showing me around the expat scene of that time in Saint Petersburg, but this I do not recall. I do recall vividly, as I stood on the brink of my 2012 divorce from Svetlana, soon to be my narcissistic ex-wife, who with backdoor lover Alexander Tregubov, fellow prostitute Genya Kosheleva, and reputed human trafficker Egish Kharchatrian, had whirled me into that fraudulent divorce as part of a much larger conspiracy, attending what I was told was an intervention by my two best friends in Russia at that time, Stephen and Christian. By then I was fairly hooked on speed, smoking hashish every day to maintain a good mood and was living with a prostitute for whom I had fallen, the aforementioned Genya Kosheleva, and had been convinced I had rescued her from a terrible life in a local bordello and even worse pimp, the aforementioned Alexander Tregubov. I had misperceived that situation and those players within it as well. Stephen or Christian had invited me out for a beer, only to announce that this was their attempt at an intervention. Their goal? To massage me back to my beautiful wife and children and to save my marriage because as Stephen put it, ‘we care about you”. I still recall his intonation when pronouncing those words, somehow sarcastic, stealing the truth from that phrase and replacing it with something lesser. I was high on amphetamine, which if in the US would make me an ADD afflicted individual under a doctor’s prescription. I would be that in Virginia Beach only two years later in 2014, as I struggled to focus to make sense of why my life had so quickly tumbled before me. In Russia, it meant I was to be viewed as a low level drug addict. What a difference in the laws of two nations. Interestingly it is also against the law to prescribe amphetamine for ADD in Russia, while it is common practice in the US. I found it’s energy and focus refreshing and better than a cup of coffee. Better by a damn sight. But these were my two closest friends, even allies in the expat world of Saint Petersburg at that time. Countless were the beers we gulped down, the strip and dance clubs we attended. We were truly colleagues and brothers of a sort. Christian had invited me to join him for the grand opening of strip club ‘Coyote Ugly’ as well as a serene evening at the Grand Hotel Europe listening to the son of Lolita author Vladimir Nabakov, Dmitri, as he read passages of his father’s work in his opera trained voice, as well as numerous other events in addition to simple boys nights out and a number of bachelor parties. Upon my return to Saint Petersburg in 2005 as I had launched my own boutique corporate sales training company in Russia after an eighteen month stint back at former employer, Harris Corporation in Rochester New York which I detested, Christian took me out to a bordello, where I was led to believe we both consummated relations with the same girl, this in orderly fashion. The price was 2000 or 3000 rubles, I do not recall. Stephen also often invited me out to bars, aboard his small yacht for canal cruises, beer, and cigars, as well as a lone evening with the two of them at an upscale casino where they both gambled, Stephen more successfully than Christian, and I not gambling at all. As stated in earlier blog posts, I departed Russia for the US in October of 2013 under what I believed to be a death threat communicated to me by Svetlana Macy and Genya Kosheleva that came from Alexander Tregubov and Egish Kharchatrian. Over the next 26 months until December of 2016 I remained stateside where I uncovered a CIA led plot to murder, to assassinate then sitting president Obama, install Biden a la JFK and LBJ, with me in the role of this generation’s Lee Harvey Oswald, the patsy. I had been set up, apparently for decades, to create a narrative about me, that would withstand intense media scrutiny, the intended patsy, who had been a high flying executive once, brought low by drug abuse and prostitutes. Similar to how the FBI likely set up the now infamous Las Vegas shooter, Timothy McVeigh, Lee Harvey and a host of other misfortunes who had fallen into the web of the FBI’s dark arm responsible for gaslighting, psy ops, the use of NLP, and gangstalking against targeted individuals such as myself. As I was outside of US national borders the tasks of gaslighting and gangstalking me fell to the FBI’s big sister organization, the CIA. Were Stephen and Christian CIA agents, professing to being my friends all the while working to use my trust to bend me in ways debaucherous? Why had Stephen and Christian maintained the facsimile of being my two dearest friends in Russia, all the while gangstalking me, using gaslighting, NLP and likely other forms of psy ops against me. The CIA is legendary as it comes to using sex and drugs to make their targets act against their own self interest. This was confirmed to me again in 2014 by none other than senior NCIS agent Doug Boyce, who shared this insight with me in order to build trust and to maintain my confidence in him. Flipped upside down the friendships displayed by gangstalkers Stephen and Christian were nothing more than a fresh coat of paint over a less than pleasing reality. And that reality was what Stephen and Christian were trying to accomplish when they took me out to bars, strip clubs, massage parlours, casinos and the like. They were working to encourage me to indulge my debauchery us side, to drink wine, sing song, chase women, and gamble as well as to consume narcotics, though that only included Stephen and not Christian. Others had been tasked with getting me try a series of mind altering stimulants in that time frame. They were on a schedule, they had to convince me to get divorced and leave for the states while Obama was still in office or the plan might fail. Stephen and Christian discovered that I was not much of a drinker, did enjoy the occasional puff of weed, was in no way a gambler, and could not get enough of available and beautiful Russian women. My die was cast long ago, and Stephen and Christian were craftsmen brought in at the tale end of my decades long construction as the near ideal patsy had I been a different person altogether. Another reason for their ‘intervention’ was that in the case the plot to kill Obama and blame me had succeeded, the CIA would need witnesses for the FBI to interview after they flew over to Russia to investigate the history of the man I had been, and both Stephen and Christian could take a lie detector test and pass when describing me as a drug addled, sex crazed man on a downward path. They would tell the investigating agents how hard they had tried to pull me back from the brink but to no avail. Tangentially, I recall taking an annual drug test required for my Russian work visa a year or two prior to the riding that all too quick quick downward slope in late 2011 and all of 2012. My drug test result had been scored as positive for marijuana and for amphetamine. The doctor in charge met with me privately to address the matter inquiring as to my use of these two substances. I admitted to having used marijuana during the previous 30 days on a trip to Amsterdam where it is prolific, but that I had consumed no amphetamine, in fact I did not know what sort of drug this was. The doctor looked over me, saw a 3p something American executive and told me to come back in 30 days and retake the drug test. I did and I passed. In 2014 senior NCIS agent Doug Boyce told me in his home how CIA will require false drug tests and faked medical reports in order to manipulate their targets. About this they had no qualms. And Doug told me this with glee in his voice. I was impressed and pleased by the confidence he was taking in me, sharing such tools of the trade from his earlier CIA career, when he clearly had little or no need to. I did not then yet realize, I too was a target. In 2014 both Stephen and Christian inexplicably cut me out of their networks both online and off, without so much as a word. I was in isolation as expat friend after friend dropped me, this a page from the zersetzung or cointel playbook. Isolate the target. Make him question his reality. And these measures have strong effect I can tell you, my reader. I could not tell if I was coming or going, which way was up, as my gangstalking came on hard. This explained why Stephen had selected me to replace him at that Russian phone company over contemporaries like Jeff Buckwalter and Jonathan Sparrow. Jonathan now runs Cisco Systems for all of Russia as it’s president so no doubt was well suited for the earlier position that went to me. In hiring me, Stephen achieved for the CIA it’s goal of surrounding the target, me, with all my touchpoints, friends, colleagues, all of my reality really at that time. In this manner their gaslighting and gangstalking would be far more effective in pushing me I to isolation as each and everyone of those whom I had considered friends in the expat world of Russia all dropped me as a friend do within a number of week. No more Facebook chats with so many I had misperceived to be friends. Stephen and Christian were the top of the iceberg in this regard. However, much to the CIA’s dismay, I survived, I learned. I dodged and I weaved. I used self as bait with the tools provided by my sexual and drug related proclivities to suss out that which was gangstalking me and why. The CIA. A presidential assassination attempt. A false flag. Me as patsy. Why hadn’t Biden run immediately after Obama, that was the traditional manner in which presidential elections are run. The likely truth of the matter is that Biden hadn’t expected he’d have to run for the CIA had committed to getting him in the hot seat. All they needed were operatives like Stephen and Christian to do their covert jobs surreptitiously and all would be well and a la 1963 a death 2001 the world would be mindfucked again and I would be the dead patsy. In 2017 I ran into Christian Courbois at a downtown restaurant we both used to favor for its position overlooking the brand Nevskiy Prospekt, Abrikos. I was sitting down for a meal on its deck, while Christian was fervently trying to run out of the establishment in an effort to escape me. I used a little psy op magic myself loudly calling out his name, Christian Courbois. This stopped him in his tracks and he turned to face me. I extended my hand and he shook it. I noticed his palm was remarkably sweaty. As by then I had grown used to being gangstalked and under surveillance while on the street both in the US and in Russia it was not so long of a stretch to imagine that my journey to Abrikos had been reported to Christian by way of cellular thus inciting his rapid escape attempt. We said few words and he turned and left. I was chagrined for his behaviour confirmed that which I had expected having by then learned that so many who had betrayed me from 2011 on were among my expat ‘friends’. Stephen and Christian were never my friends, no not at all.