Jack Barsky - Deep Undercover

An incredible look at the astounding journey of a KGB officer in the midst of the Cold War. Heartbreaking, exciting, intriguing. An honest account of one of the most difficult careers known to man. Equal parts memoir, spycraft guide, and historical document, Deep Undercover perfectly describes the crippling insularity of the spys life.

JOE WEISBERG

Creator, showrunner, and executive producer, The Americans

Jack Barksys ultimate act of courage is sharing this intimate story that sheds light on the true personal consequences of a life in espionage. Gripping and emotional, Deep Undercover peers beyond the Iron Curtain for a look into the world of a KGB officer illegally living abroad. Instead of romanticizing the life of a spy, Barsky tells his story with honesty and heart.

JOEL FIELDS

Writer and executive producer, The Americans

Our fascination with spies runs deep, particularly those who are under deep cover, the so-called sleeper agents. Living and operating under aliases, with elaborate background stories (called legends), they intrigue us for the double lives they live, sometimes with familiesand even children. (The current popularity of FX Networks award-winning The Americans attests to this.) But what is the truth beneath the often glamorized surface? How are they selected, trained, and dispatched to foreign countries? What are their secret assignments? Deep Undercover lifts the veil on one such case, giving us a glimpse of a secret life, showing us the price one man paid for undertaking such an assignment. Reading his intriguing story, you realize how few of us would willingly undertake such a missionor succeed!

PETER EARNEST

Executive director, International Spy Museum

As a double agent who worked against Russia, I thought I had heard it all. Then I heard Jacks story.

NAVEED JAMALI

Former double agent and author of How to Catch a Russian Spy

Jacks honesty and sincerity were clear from the first time I met him. He was on a journey, and I was privileged to watch something very special unfold. Jacks story is fascinating, and Deep Undercover tells it well. A true story of redemption and what can happen when Gods healing love breaks through our mind, heart, and relationships.

ROB CRUVER

Senior pastor, Zarephath Christian Church; executive director, Urban Impact; and author of The Blue Jeans Gospel

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Deep Undercover: My Secret Life and Tangled Allegiances as a KGB Spy in America

Copyright 2017 by Jack Barsky. All rights reserved.

Cover photograph copyright Peter Lueders. All rights reserved.

Interior photographs of Joe Reilly, Staten Island, and the Barsky family on railing copyright Peter Lueders. All rights reserved. Wedding photograph by Klein & Ulmes Photographic Services. Used with permission. All other photographs are from the personal collection of the author and are used with permission.

Published in association with the literary agency of Dystel, Goderich, and Bourret Literary Management, One Union Square West, New York, New York, 10003.

Designed by Dean H. Renninger

Scripture quotations are taken from the Holy Bible, New Living Translation, copyright 1996, 2004, 2015 by Tyndale House Foundation. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Carol Stream, Illinois 60188. All rights reserved.

For information about special discounts for bulk purchases, please contact Tyndale House Publishers at or call 800-323-9400.

ISBN 978-1-4964-1682-7

ISBN 978-1-4964-1686-5 (ePub); ISBN 978-1-4964-1685-8 (Kindle); ISBN 978-1-4964-1684-1 (Apple)

Build: 2017-03-02 19:15:49

TO SHAWNA, CHELSEA, AND JESSIE, WITH ALL MY LOVE

DECEMBER 1988

As I walked briskly toward my subway stop at 80th and Hudson in Queens, I glanced casually, out of well-worn habit, at a steel beam near the entrance to the station. What I saw therean innocent-looking red dotcaused a momentary break in my stride. That dot was a secret message from the KGB: Severe danger. Activate emergency procedure.

For almost two years, I had managed to keep my worlds from colliding, but now a decision had to be made.

Two weeks later, I was still stubbornly resisting the extraction order. Instead of retrieving my emergency documents and making my way to Canada, I passed the red dot every morning, boarded the A train, and continued my commute to work. I was stalling, but I knew I couldnt make time stand still. That dot was a stark, daily reminder that I was disobeying orders, and the gravity of my situation pulled at me day and night, like an ever-tightening loop I couldnt escape. How much longer could I dodge the final decision?

Now, on a dreary December morning, as I prepared to leave my second-story apartment, I silently opened the door to Chelseas room to steal a peek at my little princess. At the window, it was still pitch dark, but the nightlight cast enough of a beam for me to see those beautiful eyes, closed in peaceful sleep, and the riot of dark, curly hair that I never grew tired of caressing. I resisted the urge to bend down and kiss her, not wanting to risk waking her when I really needed to catch my train. Still, how could something so perfect be mine?

Without question, this child had stolen my heart. She wasnt my first, or my only, but she was the first Id been granted time with, all eighteen months of her life thus far. Whenever she reached for me, fell asleep on my shoulder, or touched my face with her downy soft hands, my heart was overcome with a love I had never thought possible: unconditional and all-consuming.

Checking my watch, I backed out of the room without a single creak in the wood floor. After gathering my briefcase, I left Chelsea and my wife asleep inside the apartment and ventured into the dank December darkness. The city that never sleeps would wait another half hour for the sun to tease the edges of the morning sky.

As I walked toward the subway station, I thought about the web I had created and had now trapped myself within. In America, under the guise of computer analyst Jack Barsky, I had successfully established myself as an undercover agent spying on behalf of the Soviet Union. Back in East Germany, I was a different person with a different name and a different life. And that life was now calling me back. As an embedded agent of the KGB, I was expected to obey authority and follow orders.

The red dot told me to runmy cover must have been compromisedbut that little girl asleep at home was holding me here, along with something else that I couldnt quite put my finger on.

After my usual ten-minute walk, I passed the steel beam with the dot and entered the westbound platform at 80th and Hudson. The station was populated with only a smattering of other commuters who, like me, had come early to avoid the morning rush.