Checked by the FBI

FBI agents are a rare breed. Usually, US citizens never get to see this special sort of human being their whole lives. Under special circumstances it can happen, however. These circumstances did appear two weeks before my arrival at the University of California San Diego, Medical School, Department of Pharmacology, in January 1988.

Three things have to be acknowledged at the beginning. First, the truth is that scientists from eastern Europe were highly ‘contaminated’ by their associations with the regimes in their countries of origin. Second, some of the real scientists were definitely in cahoots with ‘them’. Third, applying simple logic derived from the previous two points, Western democracies had to protect themselves in some way. I knew the first and second points, and had the direct opportunity to experience the third.

I came to UCSD in January 1988, worked hard for six months. Late one evening in summer, one of the girls working in the lab started to laugh suddenly, loudly and without any good reason. That was not a problem: girls do laugh from time to time, even in hard-working laboratories. The problem was - she was looking steadily at me. I checked my lab coat, checked my trousers, went to mirror and looked at my face. Everything seemed normal. But she was laughing all the time. Well, she had gone crazy, I concluded. Why not after pipetting ten hours a day for the last four years?

"Oh Petr," she said finally: "You do not know."

"What should I know, Martha?" I asked.

"You do not know anything, Petr," she said. "Do you know what happened two weeks before you came in January?"

"I do not know, tell me, Martha."

A fortnight before my arrival, Paul (the boss) had rushed into the lab and shrieked: "I was called by the FBI, they will come on Tuesday. I was called by the FBI, they will come on Tuesday," he repeated, very upset.

"So, we were sitting with other people in the lab discussing how an FBI man should look like," Martha continued. "He should be tall, with a big black hat, dark suit and dark glasses," said Richard. "Yes, and he should have a briefcase and somewhat bulky space under his left shoulder," added Sandy.

"We were sitting with Richard in the lab on Tuesday afternoon. Then, without any good reason I turned my head and...in the door, against the incoming light, there were two tall figures. Big, very big guys in dark suits, black glasses, big hats on their heads and briefcases in their left hands."

Martha was so upset that she could not remember whether there was a bulky space under their left arms. She hurried to the boss’s office and escorted the two gentleman to their destination.

Paul had never told me and I have never asked. After six months of 12 hours in the lab, Saturdays and Sundays included, there were no questions and it was all fun.

Please believe me, I am not a spy. I have never been and never will be. I like the USA, I have relatives there, I was educated to have deep respect for US history and (do not tell my wife) I became very friendly with one beautiful young lady from Virginia.

Well, would you, my readers, believe me? Be cautious, you can never trust these guys from the East. Once, Richard (a tough Scot from Glasgow) decided we could take some pictures from Point Loma: colourful reflections in glass-walled skyscrapers at low sun taken across San Diego bay. I proudly took my new camera equipped with a 200-mm zoom. On the way across the long peninsula connecting Point Loma with the mainland, I knew something was wrong. There were military cemeteries on the left, a big wall with overhanging antennae on the right - about five miles of antennae, telescopic dishes and strange-looking wires.

We found a good place overlooking the whole bay and waited for the right angle of the sun. It was coming slowly, too slowly. So, I began watching through my 200-mm lens the life around us. Oh, see that airfield on Coronado Island, and all those jet fighters and big bombers standing there, and look, there is one just landing, and one taking off. Fantastic. Over there, aircraft carriers, one, two, three, eight together! It was such a beautiful view and I have brought so many pictures back home...

Don't worry, except for my father and mother, nobody has seen them. Perhaps it's for the best that my children have not inherited my passion for battleships and aircraft carriers.

Petr Svoboda is in the Laboratory of Biochemistry of Membrane Receptors, Institute of Physiology, Academy of Sciences, Prague, and collaborates with Professor Graeme Milligan at the University of Glasgow.

See also

• Travel travails: Article on the Czech scientist Petr Svoboda entitled Travel travails: Part 1

External links

• Institute of Physiology: Details of the Academy of Sciences in the Czech Republic where Dr Petr Svoboda works