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The Russian defection that sparked events

Military begins to place Canadian major under suspicion

PAUL SCHNEIDEREIT SALTWIRE NETWORK pschneidereit@herald.ca @chronicleherald Paul Schneidereit is a columnist with Saltwire Network based in Halifax.

EDITOR’S NOTE:

A promising military career poisoned by lies, incompetence and baseless suspicions he was the dupe of a Russian spy. Tim Dunne’s story is a tale of military justice gone off the rails. Part 2 of 6. Part 3: ‘We’ll never trust you’.

Vadim Fotinov had pissed off the wrong people in Moscow.

The Soviet journalist, who came to Ottawa in 1989 to file television and radio reports for Russian audiences, considered himself editorially independent.

“Nobody was telling me what to do and how to write,” Fotinov said in a recent interview.

He strongly supported Soviet president Mikhail Gorbachev's policies of glasnost (political and cultural opening) and perestroika (restructuring).

But back in Russia, Gorbachev's reforms fueled resistance from hardliners that would, in August 1991, spark a violent failed coup.

Newfoundlander Tim Dunne, then a major in charge of military public affairs operations in Ottawa, was told to support Fotinov's work as it cast Canada in a positive light.

The two got to know each other. Dunne, although always aware he was dealing with a Soviet national, enjoyed dealing with Fotinov and — like his bosses — thought his coverage worthwhile. Fotinov found Dunne a man of his word.

But the political climate in Moscow was continuing to deteriorate.

By early 1991, Fotinov's pro-canada stories were increasingly grating on oldschool Communists.

“He was called to his embassy,” Dunne said. “His ambassador said, ‘Your stories are causing dissension in Russia. So cool it.'”

Fotinov refused.

KGB QUESTIONING

The first sign of danger came in late May 1991.

Fotinov's wife Svetlana had returned to Moscow to visit family.

The KGB picked her up. They wanted to talk about her husband. She had to report to KGB headquarters every morning for more questioning. Svetlana was able to return to Canada but the incident shook them both.

The couple worried Vadim would be arrested and “disappeared” if he returned to Moscow, Dunne said.

Fotinov called Dunne and told him they wanted to defect.

The decision to call Dunne was not made lightly.

“I would never turn to a person whose character I doubt. I would never entrust that person, basically, with the lives of members of my family,” Fotinov said.

“My opinion of Tim is very high to this day. And he did exactly what he was expected and supposed to do in this situation.”

What does Dunne remember of that moment?

Being taken aback. But also feeling bound to help.

“I said, ‘Do you trust your telephone?'” Dunne recalls. “He said, ‘No, I don't.'”

Dunne was flying to Halifax the next day to look for a house. He was being transferred that summer.

He had no training in dealing with a defection. But he quickly formed a plan.

“If I can do something for you,” Dunne told Fotinov, “I'm going to phone you when I can, and tell you: ‘My wife and I are going to Halifax for a house-hunting trip tomorrow. This may be the last opportunity we have to get together. I'd like to have a farewell drink with you.'”

That would be a prearranged code. It meant the Fotinovs should be waiting outside their apartment in 20 minutes, where Dunne would pick them up.

If Dunne couldn't help, he'd still call but instead say he was going to Halifax early the next day so wouldn't have time to say goodbye in person, but they'd get together in future.

CSIS IS BROUGHT IN

After Fotinov left, Dunne took the elevator up to the security and intelligence offices on the 18th floor and dropped his bombshell. That set off a series of meetings. Finally, Admiral John C. Slade, commander of security and intelligence (CIS), ordered CSIS be brought in.

Dunne briefed the CSIS agent, who told the major he'd be contacted later.

That evening, as Dunne was driving back from Brockville with his 14-year-old son, following the old No. 16 highway, he got a call.

Pull into the upcoming car dealership set in a clearing among the woods, he was instructed.

He turned into Jack May Pontiac-buick's lot and parked. Ahead, headlights flashed on and off.

His son dryly asked if a drug deal was going down. Dunne laughed.

“I'll explain later.”

It was a warm, clear night. Dunne strolled over to the other vehicle. It was a CSIS agent. What had Dunne arranged with the Fotinovs?

Dunne, saying he was an amateur in all this, laid out his coding system.

“No, that's how we do it,” the CSIS agent said.

So Dunne called Fotinov and suggested they go for a drink. “OK,” the Russian replied, “I'll see you when you get here.”

Dunne returned to his vehicle, explained he had to pick up some people for a meeting, then he'd drop his son at home.

Within 20 minutes, Dunne rolled up to the Fotinovs' apartment in downtown Ottawa. They were standing outside, dressed casually in jeans, looking like they were headed out for the evening. They hopped into Dunne's car.

When Dunne dropped off his son, his wife Rosemary, who knew what was happening, came out and wished the Fotinovs the best.

Dunne drove them to the nearby Ottawa Westin, a set of sand-coloured, rectangular towers overlooking the Rideau Canal not far from Parliament Hill. They went up to a room where more CSIS agents waited. After answering some questions, he was told not to contact the couple while their defection was being processed.

So, let's recap.

Under a project approved by military brass, Dunne enabled a Soviet journalist, Vadim Fotinov, to do positive stories on the Canadian military.

After Fotinov approached Dunne for help in defecting, the major immediately told his superiors, who brought in CSIS. Dunne worked with CSIS to carry out the defection.

Seems straightforward. Except everything now begins to go sideways.

DAMAGE CONTROL

By the time Dunne got home from the Westin, it was pushing 2:30 a.m. His flight to Halifax was less than eight hours away.

He's got an urgent message to contact the military police, his wife tells him. Dunne called. They want a report on the defection, first thing that morning.

Dunne explained he just got in and has an early flight. First thing, they repeat.

So, Dunne stayed up to write the report.

He dropped it off on his way to the airport.

A week and a half later, back in Ottawa, Dunne got another call from the military police. This time, it's Sgt. John Craig of the special investigation unit (SIU), who wants to meet.

“Talking to Craig was a bit of a surprise to me,” Dunne said.

“I didn't realize the significance of it until a long time after.”

Craig started by telling Dunne he'd be recording their conversation. He then asked the major to sign a criminal caution. That got Dunne's attention.

“I looked at him and said, ‘What is this?'” Dunne recalled.

“He said, ‘It's just damage control.'”

Dunne naively believed this was just military paperwork. Even after signing the caution, he didn't appreciate the seriousness of the situation.

Craig and Dunne discussed events leading up to the defection for about an hour.

Weeks passed. Dunne was preparing to move to his new post in Halifax. Then Craig asked for a second interview.

The military police investigator now wanted to talk about Fotinov's April 1991 visit to the Canadian Forces Language School, under what circumstances Dunne first met Fotinov and why he had been assisting him.

They were investigating whether security had been compromised, he told Dunne.

UNEXPECTED QUESTION

At that meeting, in late July 1991, Dunne was again asked to sign a criminal caution. He was told he had the right to legal counsel. He told Craig no, he didn't need a lawyer.

They talked for about an hour, again going over events in detail.

Then Craig asked Dunne an unexpected question.

Had Dunne ever knowingly passed classified information to Fotinov, or otherwise been compromised by his association with the Soviet journalist?

Dunne felt stunned. He couldn't believe what he just heard. It was surreal. “No,” he said emphatically. Dunne, insulted, put up his guard.

Would the major agree to take a polygraph to corroborate that?

“Absolutely.”

OPINION

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2022-05-18T07:00:00.0000000Z

2022-05-18T07:00:00.0000000Z

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