Buck would end up getting an invite to Switzerland and then he was off to Romania with the crazy idea to do a SOFREP Halloween post from communist Transylvania. Yes, it does exist, folks.
“Picture of post and tracking number enclosed. Likely the end of this week. We will figure out the Romania footage when I get home. Here’s the list of spy bars,” was his last transmission.
Buck and I had planned to hand off the video footage and then spend a night together bouncing through the spy bars of Kiev, but now I was on a solo mission, armed with a few local contacts Buck passed my way.
Every city that houses foreign embassies has their local covert spy haunts, and Buck had managed to get the full list for Kiev. That list was now in my possession and I had a non-refundable ticket to Kiev, Ukraine. To hell with it, I thought. Kiev was on my list of cities to see, and how much trouble could a former Navy SEAL get into in the capital of Ukraine?
The flight over from New York on Lufthansa was pleasant enough. After landing in Germany, I passed through European Union customs, then transferred planes in Munich for the short two-hour hop to Kiev. Kiev was far from the fighting in the east, but it was the birthplace of Ukrainian revolution and no stranger to violence. Anything could happen.
On final approach, the frosted windows of the Airbus reminded me that winter had definitely arrived in the 1500-year-old city. It was a good thing I packed my warmies. We have a couple cold-weather sayings in the SEAL teams: “Cotton kills,” and “Pack light, freeze at night.” I’ve been in enough cold, dark places to know that there’s no substitute for a good down jacket and a few pairs of wool shirts and socks. Anyone who has visited an Eastern Bloc country knows that there’s a reason Hitler’s army got its ass kicked in World War II: The combination of Russian resolve and their brutal winters is deadly.
I said, “Dobroho ranku” in my best Ukrainian to the woman scrutinizing my passport. She looked up at me briefly, annoyed, and then, WHOMP! She slammed down the stamp on my passport, and I was in. To be honest, I sighed in relief. But before I could get too comfortable, she gave me a blank stare that said I better get a move-on before she sent me to a secondary that would make an American TSA agent blush. I wasted no time getting the hell on with myself.
A friend from Kiev met me outside baggage claim and we sped off into the main city center of Kiev in his black VW diesel. He was not concerned with the Volkswagen software emission scandal, apparently; Ukraine has looser emission standards than the People’s Republic of California. Also worth noting: In Ukraine, seat belts are frowned upon. I went to buckle up and noticed the plastic seat belt hack—a small device inserted into the main buckle receiver that fooled the onboard alarm. I removed it and clicked in, and 20 minutes later we arrived at a small flat I’d rented. I personally prefer online rentals over hotel rooms and the prying eyes of staff, not to mention it’s common for Eastern European intelligence agencies to bug and monitor local hotels. In this part of the country, most anything goes.
I grabbed a quick, hot shower—about a minute-and-a-half quick once the small water heater ran its course—and finished my rinse cycle with ice-cold water. It was like Ukraine was reminding me that I was not in Kansas anymore. Note to self: I’m never bitching about my fucked-up New York shower heating system again. Once the goose bumps receded back to wherever goose bumps come from, I went over the list of bars that Buck gave me (below). These aren’t all of them, but most of them are listed.
Photo: Kiev at night, courtesy author’s collection, all rights reserved.
The Spy Bars of Kiev
- Irish Golden Gate Pub
- Vodka Bar
- LOBUS
- T.G.I Friday’s (seriously)
- Hilton Kyiv H Bar
- Tarasa Shevchenko
- Velyka
- B Hush
- Velyka Zhytomyrska
- Volodymyrska
- Old School Bar
- Mala Zhytomyrska
I wouldn’t likely end up sharing a martini with James Bond, maybe a sloppy diplomat or two, but it was shaping up to be an interesting night. I’d only end up hitting three bars (sorry guys, my liver isn’t what it used to be!) but, I discovered another bar entirely by accident another night out.
I was in Kiev, after all, and anything could happen. Part two coming soon…
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