In October 1990, Ken Alibek explains (in Biohazard), they were informed that a “trilateral agreement” had been reached between the Soviet Union, the United States, and Great Britain to organize a series of reciprocal visits to suspected biological warfare facilities:
The 1972 Biological Weapons Convention had no provisions for inspections, a limitation that continues to frustrate the international arms control community to this day. Visits were to depend on the trust and goodwill of all sides.
[…]
The memo from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs notifying us of the agreement had left it to us to decide which facilities to open. The defense ministry quickly signaled it wanted no part in this charade. You can show whatever you want in Biopreparat,” General Yevstigneyev snapped when I asked for his suggestions. “But no foreigner is getting into our military sites.”
Kalinin, sensing a political opportunity, volunteered that Biopreparat act as the host. He ordered me to decide which of our installations could be “sacrificed” in the interests of East-West relations.
The choices were grim. Though some of our explosive test chambers had been dismantled since Gorbachev’s decree, large industrial fermenters at Stepnogorsk and Omutninsk furnished unmistakable evidence of our activities.
At the time, Biopreparat controlled about forty facilities in fifteen cities across the Soviet Union. About a dozen were used exclusively for offensive work, but many others mixed civilian and military functions. Judicious exposure of the Western delegation to these dual-function facilities would protect us while demonstrating our good faith.
[…]
I never believed that we would be able to pull it off. Anyone with basic knowledge of biological weapons would recognize the signs of our activity.
[…]
The strategy, carefully worked out over the previous weeks, was to waste as much time as possible during the nonessential parts of the tour, to reduce the “official” segments in which our visitors could exercise their curiosity. We had also notified our institute directors in advance to stock up on supplies of vodka and cognac, in the hope of befuddling them with Russian hospitality.
[…]
Obolensk, our next destination, was more difficult. It would require finesse to explain the heavily insulated buildings and labs, the animal cages in our bacteriological genetic engineering program, and other elements of a biowarfare infrastructure. It would be hard, I thought, to conceal our projects to develop antibiotic-resistant strains of tularemia, plague, brucellosis, glanders, melioidosis, and anthrax and to pass our work off as biodefense.
[…]
“Could we finally get to work?” Davis said as Urakov paused for breath during an extended welcoming speech.
The general was undaunted. He told the foreigners that they were free to see whatever they wanted in his compound.
“However, I must warn you that biodefense work involves very hazardous organisms as I’m sure you know,” he said. “If you elect to go into some of our labs, we may have to ask you to stay in quarantine for a couple of weeks. Those are our regulations.”
This was partly true. We did have regulations requiring visitors to stay under observation, but they were totally unnecessary in this case: I had given orders that weekend for Obolensk and Vector to be totally disinfected. The delegation could have walked through any one of the labs in shirtsleeves.
Our visitors, naturally, were unaware of this. They hesitated.
“So,” said Urakov brightly. “What would you like to see?”
They asked for a complete tour of the complex. We got our first rude surprise when Davis pulled out a map and pointed to a large building.
“Take us there,” he said, pointing to the structure that contained Obolensk’s newest, and biggest, explosive chamber.
Ah, I said to myself, here it comes. I assumed the map was based on satellite reconnaissance photos. Pasechnik couldn’t have known about this.
[…]
The visitors were allowed to wander in the corridors until they came to a closed door.
“What’s in here?” Davis asked. No one answered. “Could you please open it?”
“We lost the key,” Petukhov mumbled. “I’ll see if I can find a copy.”
While the visitors waited impatiently, Petukhov took his time finding a “new” key. He eventually opened the door, but the room was dark.
“Can you turn the light on?” Davis asked in irritation.
“Not possible,” Petukhov said. “The bulb is out.”
Undeterred, Davis walked right past him and pulled out a flashlight. At that moment, the façade of international cooperation ended.
Petukhov lunged for the flashlight. Davis shouted. The two men tussled back and forth until someone suggested that they take the dispute back to the conference room, where I was awaiting their return.
[…]
When Davis finally went back and turned the flashlight on, he saw that the walls near the door were dented and pitted—the telltale marks left by fragments of explosives.
“You have been using explosives here,” he declared.
Then, in Novosibirsk:
I could see their eyes widen with astonishment as we took them past enormous steel fermenters, larger than what any Western pharmaceutical firm would ever use for the mass-production of vaccines. We had taken them to one of Vector’s principal research labs—but we made sure to keep them on the ground floor.
In the upper levels were floors dedicated to work on smallpox, Ebola, Machupo, Marburg, Junin, and other hemorrhagic fevers, as well as VEE, Russian spring and summer encephalitis, and a number of other deadly viruses.
[…]
They asked whether they could take air samples and smears from some of the lab areas.
“We haven’t tried to hide the fact that we work with dangerous strains—for defensive purposes,” I replied. “But I don’t have any instructions about allowing you to take samples outside the country. We don’t want to be responsible for a terrible accident.”
Neither did they.
“I can always ask for permission,” I added helpfully. “It might take time and you’d have to wait here for an answer, but I’m sure you’ll be well treated.”
They didn’t press further.
Sandakchiev and I noted with relief that they had not brought special equipment. We had feared for months that the visitors would be carrying advanced monitors capable of detecting viral DNA. Such monitors would have picked up irrefutable evidence of smallpox, and we would have a lot of explaining to do.