Spy Dust -- Part 3, the Conclusion of the 1985 KGB-CIA Spy War (Including My Arrest by KGB)
The final chapter of the Vorontsov operation, including their detailed story of how they set and ambush and arrested me as the final act of the story.
In Spy Dust Parts 1 (link here) and 2 (link here) I introduced the Russian documentary, just released in 2023, that tells the story of “Spy Dust” — a 1985 spy scandal in Moscow in which a KGB officer (Sergey Vorontsov) gave a CIA officer (me) a sample of “spy dust” and triggered an international scandal similar to the “Havana Syndrome” issue we see today. Here is Part 3 of the Russian Documentary “Spy Dust”, repurposed as a magazine syle article. (By the way, this installment includes, at the end, the full KGB version of my arrest and interrogatio
The Spy Dust Scandal Breaks Wide Open
Once Sergei Vorontsov began passing intelligence to the Americans, he proposed a communication system that was as simple as it was effective. To minimize the risk of detection, he suggested only a few personal meetings and arranged phone calls at strictly agreed-upon times—usually when he was on night duty. Importantly, the phone he used wasn’t in his own office at Lubyanka but on the desk of the duty officer. For several months, this system worked flawlessly, allowing Agent Cowl to supply the CIA with critical information on KGB operations.
One of the key pieces of intelligence Vorontsov shared was a detailed overview of Soviet surveillance capabilities, especially their efforts to monitor the American embassy. “He passed on all our operational capabilities,” notes historian Andrey Bednev. “This included how we conducted surveillance of the American embassy. It was incredibly important and fundamental information.”
Working for the CIA quickly became a lucrative business for Vorontsov. He got the hang of his role fast, understanding the value of what he had to offer and negotiating payments in return. During one of their communication sessions, Vorontsov suggested they meet in person. He promised to bring something particularly interesting to this next rendezvous.
At the meeting in April 1985, Michael Sellers, the CIA officer handling Vorontsov, was in for a surprise. “At one point, he suddenly pulled out a can and began spraying material into a clear plastic bag,” Sellers recalls. “It was spy dust. We knew it existed and had been used by the Soviets, but Vorontsov was the first to give us a sample we could analyze.”
This spy dust, known within the KGB as Rubin, was a closely guarded secret. It was a tracking substance, invisible to the naked eye but detectable with special equipment, and it could be applied to clothing, cars, or personal items to follow someone’s movements without their knowledge. For this sample, Vorontsov received a staggering 30,000 rubles from the Americans—a substantial amount for the time.
However, it wasn’t long before the fallout from this exchange reverberated across the globe. Soon after Vorontsov’s meeting with Sellers, the U.S. State Department made an official statement, accusing the Soviet Union of using a highly toxic, carcinogenic substance against foreign diplomats. The headlines were explosive, and for several weeks, the spy dust scandal dominated American newspapers.
“It became clear to us in counterintelligence that someone with access to these secrets had leaked them to the Americans,” says retired KGB officer Vladimir Zaitsev. “We began working intensively to identify the circle of people who had access to these drugs.”
The sudden exposure of Rubin forced the KGB to narrow its investigation. While Rubin was a valuable tool in the Soviet arsenal, it was used sparingly—only in the most critical operations. This limited its potential users and helped KGB investigators zero in on possible suspects. “Not every external security officer had access to these bottles,” explains retired KGB officer Sergei Terekhov. “The officers who did would have worked either against the Germans or the Americans, or they worked specifically in the American department. We began our investigation based on that knowledge.”
As the KGB’s investigative team dug deeper, Rubin became a central focus of their inquiry. While only select surveillance officers and certain operatives had clearance to use the drug, the overall picture remained frustratingly incomplete. The intelligence from Aldrich Ames indicated that the mole was operating out of the central counterintelligence apparatus, not among the surveillance teams. It seemed, once again, that the investigation was at an impasse.
As the KGB’s search dragged on, so too did Vorontsov’s covert dealings with Sellers and the CIA. Both sides were playing a dangerous game, with millions of rubles and state secrets hanging in the balance.
The Network Tightens: Vorontsov’s Informants and His Fall
In the world of espionage, informants are a critical resource. Every successful intelligence service, whether Soviet or American, depends on a web of informers to gather the secrets that drive operations. Sergei Vorontsov, despite his own growing role as a CIA informant, had informants of his own. Among them was a Russian maid who worked at the U.S. Embassy in Moscow. Through her, the KGB was able to gather valuable details about the lives and habits of American diplomats stationed in the city.
“Intelligence services operate through three main methods,” says retired KGB officer Valentin Sobolev. “Agents, technology, and analytics. These are the tools of the trade, and we haven’t come up with anything new. The deeper an agent is embedded, and the higher their access, the more valuable their information.” It was clear that Vorontsov understood this dynamic well, and his network included key individuals who could offer high-level intelligence.
However, as often happens in espionage, greed began to cloud Vorontsov’s judgment. Buoyed by the influx of easy money from his dealings with the CIA, he made a crucial mistake: he revealed the name of his maid-informant to his CIA contact, Michael Sellers. The information was quickly relayed to CIA headquarters, where Aldrich Ames, the Soviet mole inside the CIA, saw it and reported it directly to the KGB.
Armed with this new information, Major Sergei Terekhov, one of the lead KGB investigators, only needed to locate the maid’s file in the KGB’s cabinet of informants. “I found her name on the card,” Terekhov recalls. “Zalekovskaya Zhanna Mikhailovna. Of course, that was an alias. She was an employee who worked under Vorontsov’s supervision. From there, the rest was just a matter of technique.”
With this connection, the noose around Vorontsov tightened. His name had already surfaced in Major Terekhov’s investigation. Vorontsov fit the profile of the mole perfectly—he had access to the secret drug Rubin, had visited Ireland a few years earlier (a key detail in Ames’ report), and matched the general characteristics of the informant the CIA was working with. The only piece that didn’t fit was his rank: Vorontsov wasn’t stationed in the KGB’s central apparatus, as the Americans had believed. Instead, he worked in the Moscow field office.
Despite this discrepancy, the head of the KGB’s operational investigative team, General Vitaly Boyarov, made the call to place Vorontsov under surveillance. The investigation would continue, but Vorontsov’s days of freedom were numbered.
An observation post was set up in the building opposite Vorontsov’s apartment. The KGB operatives were equipped with powerful marine binoculars—massive devices capable of seeing clearly over distances of 200-300 meters. “It was as if we were standing a meter away from him,” Terekhov recounts. Since there were no houses close by, Vorontsov rarely closed his curtains, and the KGB had an unobstructed view of his life at home.
It didn’t take long for the surveillance team to notice something unusual. Vorontsov and his family were living well—suspiciously well. They observed him bringing expensive gifts for his wife and daughter, stocking their kitchen with rare delicacies, and generally enjoying a lifestyle that far exceeded his official salary.
The final nail in Vorontsov’s coffin came when the KGB searched his workplace. There, in his office, they found what they had been looking for: an almost empty bottle of Rubin, the same spy dust that Vorontsov had so freely shared with the CIA. “We went to the safe to check,” Terekhov recalls. “Three generals opened it, and there it was—the bottle. That was the proof we needed.”
The Arrest of Vorontsov
With the evidence in hand, the KGB wasted no time. The decision was made to arrest Vorontsov immediately. The operation was swift and meticulously planned. That evening, as Vorontsov finished work, he left the building in a good mood, telling his wife he would be home soon. He walked slowly toward his car, unaware that KGB agents were closing in. The next second, they were on him, handcuffing him before he had a chance to react.
The arrest was only the beginning. The KGB team moved quickly to search his home, where they would find more evidence of his illicit activities. Vorontsov’s double life had finally caught up with him.
The search of Sergei Vorontsov’s apartment was inevitable, a standard procedure in KGB investigations. But for those involved, it wasn’t just another step in the case—it was the moment when the full tragedy of his betrayal hit home. “There were searches in the apartment,” recalls retired KGB officer Sergei Terekhov. “But it was a tragedy. It was a disaster.”
For Vorontsov’s family, the realization of his betrayal came with unbearable emotional weight. “These were tears. It is a pain. Terrible pain for the family,” says retired KGB officer Vladimir Skorik, reflecting on the impact of the arrest. “Your father is a traitor, your husband is a traitor. This is extremely difficult.”
Within a week, Vorontsov broke under the pressure and admitted that he had been working for the Americans. He also agreed to cooperate with the KGB’s investigation, and Operation Two-Faced Poison entered its final stage. With Vorontsov in custody, the focus shifted to capturing the other key player in this deadly game: CIA officer Michael Sellers.
Setting a Trap for Sellers
By March 1986, the CIA’s Moscow station was experiencing significant turmoil. Its network of agents was fraying, and critical assets were going silent. One of the most valuable informants, aviation engineer Adolf Tolkachev, had been out of contact for more than six months, causing serious concerns. Similarly, Agent Cowl—Vorontsov—had gone quiet, adding to the growing alarm within the CIA. Had something gone wrong? Was Cowl’s silence a sign of trouble?
Then, unexpectedly, Vorontsov resurfaced. During the next scheduled communication session, he picked up the phone and contacted Sellers, proposing a personal meeting. The CIA was eager to learn what had happened during the months of silence, but they also knew the risks. “On the one hand, we had great interest in meeting with Vorontsov. We thought he would answer some of our questions,” explains Sellers. “But at the same time, we were very worried that he, too, had somehow already been arrested. I went to this meeting thinking that there was at least a chance that it would not end in arrest, but it was a small chance.”
The meeting was set for March 10, late in the evening. As always, the KGB’s external surveillance teams were watching the U.S. Embassy closely. They took up their usual positions around the building, waiting for Sellers to make his move. But as time passed, Sellers still hadn’t emerged. Then, a familiar figure appeared at the door of the embassy: Ronald Patterson, a black American diplomat, who followed his nightly routine of getting into his car and driving home.
“But where is Sellers? Where is Sellers?” KGB agents wondered, as they tracked Patterson’s departure. What they didn’t realize at the time was that it wasn’t Patterson who had left the embassy—it was Michael Sellers, disguised as the diplomat. Once clear of the embassy, Sellers discarded his prosthetic mask, revealing his true identity.
“This is what we call ‘identity transfer,’” Sellers explains. “It was a situation where one person, like me, who was under surveillance, was paired with someone who wasn’t of interest to the KGB. This included the use of prosthetic masks and an extensive wardrobe.”
For the next few hours, Sellers employed classic counter-surveillance techniques, wandering aimlessly around Moscow to ensure that no one was following him. He was executing what is known as a “cleaning” operation, designed to lose any tails before heading to the meeting spot. Finally, confident that he was free of surveillance, Sellers proceeded to meet Vorontsov. As he approached, he saw Vorontsov from a distance.
“When I walked up and started talking to him, I noticed that he had obviously lost a lot of weight,” Sellers recalls. “He staggered, trembled, and kept trying to lean against the wall. As soon as I saw this, I knew what was about to happen.”
The KGB, however, was ready. The capture of Sellers had to be executed with precision, giving him no chance to destroy any potential evidence. The operation was led by Lieutenant Colonel Vladimir Zaitsev, the deputy head of the KGB’s elite Alpha Group. “Naturally, we had night vision devices and a television that displayed everything happening on the street,” Zaitsev explains. “Everything was perfectly visible.”
Zaitsev was no stranger to such operations. Born in 1948, he had been working in state security since 1972 and became one of the leaders of Group “A” within the KGB’s Seventh Directorate. From 1985 to 1992, he oversaw the arrests of 13 foreign intelligence agents operating inside the Soviet Union. Sellers would become another name on his impressive list.
The capture was swift. Sellers didn’t attempt to run or resist. Within seconds, he was bundled into a car and taken to KGB headquarters. The long cat-and-mouse game between the CIA and the KGB had reached its dramatic conclusion.
The capture took a matter of seconds. Sellers didn’t try to run or hide. He was put into a car and taken to the KGB headquarters.
The Aftermath: The Fates of Michael Sellers and Sergei Vorontsov
The capture of Michael Sellers by the KGB was a significant moment in the operation, but it wasn’t the end of his story—or his theatrics. Retired KGB officer Vladimir Zaitsev still remembers watching Sellers during the arrest. “I sat next to Sellers and watched him move. He had this mustache. Once, I took it off. ‘Oh Misha, is that you?’” Zaitsev laughs as he recalls the moment. Sellers, true to his reputation as the CIA’s most artistic agent, had worn a fake mustache and wig to his final meeting with Sergei Vorontsov. Those disguises are now preserved in the FSB archives—a tangible reminder of the cloak-and-dagger games played during the Cold War.
A few days after Sellers’ arrest, the Soviet government officially declared him Persona Non Grata, and he was expelled from the country. However, even as he prepared to leave the USSR, Sellers managed to pull off one last performance. “On the eve of his departure, he made a spectacular appearance,” recalls retired KGB officer Vladimir Nechaev. “He was a talented singer and guitar player, and he left us a parting gift—his record album.” In a final flourish, Sellers was seen performing near Lenin’s tomb in Red Square, fully aware that he was still under the watchful eyes of Soviet surveillance.
While Michael Sellers escaped the ordeal relatively unscathed, walking away with only the humiliation of being caught and expelled, the same cannot be said for Sergei Vorontsov. As the scandal surrounding spy dust unfolded, Vorontsov found himself awaiting trial. The charge was high treason, and the Soviet Union had little mercy for those who betrayed their country. Vorontsov was convicted, and the verdict was as severe as it gets: he was sentenced to capital punishment.
The case of spy dust left a lasting impact on both nations. The controversy that erupted over the use of the substance eventually reached a formal conclusion in February 1986, when, six months after the scandal first broke, the U.S. State Department made a new announcement. American experts had analyzed the composition of the Soviet drug and confirmed what had been suspected all along: the substance posed significant risks to human health. Spy dust, while a potent tool of surveillance, also carried the potential to cause harm, bringing yet another dark chapter of the Cold War into the public spotlight.
Great story, Mike. Didn’t you make the front page of Pravda?