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Join the declassified club at the rest is classified.com. After the modusiness of Copenhagen, London seemed a colossal mess.

A car from the Soviet embassy met us, and our drive into the west end of the city was

itself a revelation.

I had frequently read that London was one of the city was itself a revelation. I had frequently read that

London was one of the richest cities in the world, but here was a vast, undistinguished urban

sprawl, with street after street of grimy old houses litter in the gutters and appalling traffic.

Our plane in came at about six in the evening, so that by the time we reached the

flat, our priorities were to put the girls to bed and settle in. Much as I wanted to ring the

secret number I had carried in my head for the past four years, I had no chance to do so. I knew

nothing about our surroundings and had no idea who might be watching us or from where. Well, welcome to the rest

is classified. I am David McCloskey. And I'm Gordon Carrera. And those are the words of Oleg

Gordievsky as he lands in one of the truly most awful cities in the world, Gordon. London.

He's arrived in London. He is maybe questioning his decision

to spy for the British. I can only imagine the wonderful reaction he may have had to landing

in the paradise of Washington, D.C., had he decided to offer himself up to the Americans.

But Gordon, he has made this faithful choice years

earlier to spy for British intelligence. And now he has arrived in, this is an amazing, just an

amazing coup for the British. He has arrived to work out of the London resident or for the KGB

and pick up his spying once again for the British.

That's right. After being recruited in Denmark, he then paused in Moscow, too dangerous to run

...