BS immediately became a member of our friendly group to party, travel and enjoy the best life has to offer. He was knowledgeable in subjects like global politics, religions, cultures, sciences, and art. Later, when we were traveling in the UK, he told me that he was a Free Mason and was working with the CIA in the Middle East. I was building a luxury furniture production company, and he was interested in participating.

 

BS got involved in an immature romantic relationship while he was in London when I was constructing my hotel / restaurant on Cromwell Road near Harrods. Looking back, I realize that my intense focus on the restaurants and construction businesses left little time to support BS during that period. This absence contributed to his feelings of isolation and ultimately played a role in his decision to seek a fresh start in the United States with his family.

 

A few months later, BS came to America and I stayed in London and Paris continuing my real estate and restaurant businesses. During those years apart, occasionally, I wondered how BS was doing and where, but life moved quickly and our paths seemed destined to remain separate. Time passed, and the memories of our earlier connection became distant, overshadowed by the demands of work and new experiences.

 

35 years later, while I was building one of my historic mansions in Greenwich, Connecticut, I was structuring a joint venture with a few global high-profile individuals, including a retired U.S. congressman, a minister of oil, a president’s advisor, and a European mayor. Together, we aimed to supply aviation fuel to several European commercial and military clients.

 

As I was walking the corridor to go to our meeting in Washington DC, I saw BS standing by the Congressman’s office door looking at me and smiling. We both started laughing and kept laughing without saying anything. We were just expressing our appreciation for having such a rich and happy friendship decades ago. In those few moments, it felt as though time had stood still and all the years apart simply melted away. Finally, we hugged while laughing, exchanged coordinates, still laughing going on our ways.

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A few weeks later, as we did almost every week decades ago, BS came to my new hometown, Greenwich CT. We wandered the quiet streets, reminiscing about old times and marveling at how much had changed since our youth. It felt comforting to fall back into our familiar routines, sharing laughter and stories as if no time had passed at all. His wife was losing her battle with Alzheimer and BS was looking for ways to tolerate the pain. Her warmth and compassion touched everyone around her.

 

We spent the afternoon reminiscing about old times, sharing stories that brought both laughter and bittersweet memories. BS opened up about his struggles, revealing how difficult it was to watch his wife fade away, yet he found moments of comfort in the company of friends. Despite the sadness that lingered, there was a sense of warmth and connection, reminding us of the power of friendship during life's hardest moments.

 

BS was not the same relax and fun BS anymore. Although, I had a very highly secure ten-acre fenced and gated property, BS was not comfortable sitting by the swimming pool completely hidden among the trees. He seemed constantly on edge, glancing around.

 

BS was very concerned during the years he was highly active with the CIA. He often prioritized security and confidentiality, understanding the risks associated with his position. This heightened sense of caution shaped both his professional decisions and personal interactions.

 

He would repeat “I should have listened to you B. I have been careless”, like he expected to be assassinated. His words carried a weight of paranoia, as if every shadow concealed a threat. BS was not as politically incorrect as I was, and I did not see the reason for his concern. Still, his anxious glances and constant worry made me wonder if there was more to his fears than he let on. Well, I did not blame him, considering PC’s aircraft explosion.

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I was so fortunate to get to know so many heroes and patriots among those military officers and agents. Most of these connections blossomed into genuine friendships, with bonds forged through shared experiences and mutual respect. Some relationships grew close enough for individuals to confide in me about their roles as double agents—either revealed openly out of trust, disclosed out of necessity for our work, or simply left unspoken yet quietly suspected. Navigating this complex web of loyalty and deception was both challenging and enlightening, teaching me the true meaning of trust in a world where secrets often defined survival.

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I had a feeling that BS had turned out to be a double agent too. With his connections and insider knowledge, BS could help me plan a rescue / release for a few hostages including a retired CIA agent, who had been naively trying to finalize a petroleum deal but was apprehended as a suspected spy. Time was running out, and the threat of execution loomed large, so I knew I had to act fast and trust BS’s expertise in navigating these dangerous waters. 

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My plan was to team up BS with my top guy in the United Nations, PC, who was a genius in hostage negotiations and was trusted by many countries including the U.S. PC rescued and freed many of the US hostages globally, was kidnaped, even escaped bomb in his aircraft.
At that time, PC asked me for assistance in helping a few careless US reporters arrested and accused of being spies in the Middle East.

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I enjoyed working with PC on so many projects and helped him with computer, documentation and management, as a friend, for decades. We could read each other’s mind. PC was the kindest, politest and the most generous person I have ever met.

Our collaboration brought together unique skill sets, blending his diplomatic acumen with my technical expertise. Together, we navigated complex international crises, often under intense pressure and tight deadlines. The trust and mutual respect between us enabled swift, effective decisions even in the most challenging circumstances.

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Now, a genius who freed so many US hostages globally risking his own life and stopped wars while being accused of being a double agent, was becoming very careless, forgetful, asking me questions repeatedly and forgets some sensitive passwords. His once sharp mind, renowned for strategic brilliance and unwavering courage, seemed to be clouded by confusion and lapses in memory. It was both alarming and heartbreaking to witness such a remarkable figure struggle with the very faculties that had defined his legacy.
PC’s wife left him and he was still in love with her. This emotional turmoil weighed heavily on him, making it difficult for him to move forward. I thought PC's behavior was the result of this heartbreak, as he often seemed distracted and withdrawn. 

​

I met MO at his camera-controlled office in New York. The meeting had been arranged through a mutual connection, as MO was introduced to me by a top US politician. He was interested in supplying high-performance aviation fuel to a major airport in his country. MO was very well connected and had many high-level security and intelligence positions. All my friends in gold and diamond businesses had camera-controlled offices in NY.

 

We agreed to meet the following week at my office. I was crossing the Fifth Avenue to go to my office and MO got off a taxi in front of my office 10 minutes before the meeting. He passed the test of working with me.

 

From early on, it became clear that MO's values did not align with those of PC. His greed was evident, affecting both his personal interactions and professional relationships, even with close collaborators. I used to call him “MO on auction”. MO openly admitted to being a double agent for years, and his knowledge of confidential information confirmed his covert activities. I thought he was at least a double agent, as high as ten, and cameras were not to protect petroleum transactions.

​

MO practiced his double role business religiously, beyond my comprehension, in a few countries. His geographical and cultural expertise and reach made him a valuable candidate to be added to my global rescue team. 

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In private practice, MO received a request for aviation fuel that had been secured through the head of procurement at a European airport. Despite an existing agreement, MO gave an unreasonable excuse not to compensate the consultant involved in the deal.

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I met TR at my restaurant in London. In 1978, one early morning, off duty TR parked in front of Penta Hotel in London, in front of my restaurant, to pick up a friend. He witnessed a robbery in progress in my restaurant and stopped it with a minor damage to the back door. 
I invited him, his wife and his guests of choice to a special private dinner with a 6-piece orchestra at my restaurant, and we became friends sharing secrets like brothers. 

Back then TR was a top agent in MI6. He quickly rose to be the head of MI6. Later, I found out that TR and PC knew each other very well and cooperated to free the U.S. hostages.

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These are the stories of private and peaceful individuals who happen to be professionals who chose to live dangerously. Throughout history, certain individuals have stepped beyond the boundaries of safety in pursuit of their passions and ambitions.

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I know how it feels to walk alone in the middle of a small town in the Middle East expecting to meet someone to help you to free someone you do not even know from captivity. Snipers are the least of your problem.
I dedicate this book to PC.

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