A fake spy, Russian oil and $1 million funneled to Democrats
Summary
- Former business partner claims Gaurav Srivastava scammed millions by posing as a CIA operative; a photo op with Biden.
Gaurav Srivastava dreamed of being a player in the murky world of clandestine operations.
His goal was to build a private military and intelligence operation, funded by natural resources, he told business partners. It would be akin to the notorious Wagner Group, only with the blessing of the U.S. instead of Russia. Leaving associates with the impression he had high-level contacts in the intelligence community, he said he wanted to do business in difficult places and muscle bad guys out of strategic markets.
He joined forces with an oil trader, a former senior CIA agent and veterans of the U.S. and Australian special forces. Gen. Wesley Clark, a former NATO commander, served as a paid adviser. Srivastava donated more than $1 million to Democratic causes, scored a photo op with President Biden and met lawmakers from both parties. A star-studded event he hosted with the prestigious Atlantic Council think tank featured the singer John Legend.
Who was this person, a green-card-holding Indian businessman in his early 30s, a college dropout, splashing money around Washington and rubbing shoulders with the president?
His associates say he isn’t who he purported to be. A wealthy trader who teamed up with Srivastava to deal in Russian oil accuses him of extortion and pretending to be a CIA secret agent to steal his money. People familiar with the agency’s operations, including former intelligence officers, said they weren’t aware Srivastava had ever worked for the CIA.
Srivastava siphoned tens of millions of dollars out of the trader’s firm, which he plowed into his donation spree and a Los Angeles mansion, according to messages, emails and financial records.
Srivastava’s story—part Austin Powers, part James Bond—shows the ease with which someone with money and moxie can access Washington’s most influential people.
In recent months, the Biden campaign, Senate Majority PAC and Democratic Congressional Campaign Committee have frozen or returned Srivastava’s donations, after journalism startup Project Brazen last fall reported allegations he impersonated a CIA agent. FBI agents in Los Angeles started to investigate Srivastava last year and have examined the source of his money, said people familiar with the matter.
A Switzerland-based attorney for Srivastava, Charles Adams of Orrick, Herrington & Sutcliffe, shared letters saying his client “never participated in any blackmail, fraud, threats, or extortion."
The letters, written to the trader’s lawyers, deny Srivastava held himself out to be a clandestine CIA operative. To do so “would have endangered Mr. Srivastava," lawyers at Orrick wrote, whereas “those seeking to harm Mr. Srivastava would have every interest in circulating such allegations."
Adams, a former U.S. ambassador to Finland, later demanded The Wall Street Journal not publish anything from the letters. He described the Journal’s questions as “bulls—" without elaborating. “We won’t acknowledge your existence," Adams said.
Missions for ‘the agency’
On the face of it, Srivastava’s pitch wasn’t entirely far-fetched. Profiting from the overlap between commodities, intelligence and security is an old line of business, especially in developing economies and war zones. Srivastava told associates he would compete with Erik Prince, the former chief executive of defense contractor Blackwater, who later went into oil, minerals and logistics. Companies including U.K.-based G4S and Olive Group protect oil fields for energy producers.
Prince didn’t respond to requests for comment.
Srivastava was born in Lucknow, northern India, in 1990 into a family with interests in airport security, entertainment and telecoms, according to Indian corporate filings and people who have done business with Srivastava and his relatives. He enrolled at the University of Southern California in 2012 but didn’t graduate, said a university spokeswoman.
He appears to have gotten his start in security several years later, after moving to London.
A contact introduced him to Gordon Conroy, an Australian special-forces veteran who incorporated Unity Resources Group in Singapore in 2004, one of the many private-security organizations that prospered in Iraq after the invasion.
Srivastava told Conroy he worked on missions for “the agency" from which he feared he wouldn’t return alive, said people familiar with their discussions.
He proposed working together in North Africa. They flew by private jet in 2020 to meet a senior official in the Russia-aligned forces that control eastern Libya. Their aim: To request oil in return for military work, the people said. Nothing came of it, they said.
That summer, a firm called Unity Resources Group was registered in Wyoming at Srivastava’s request, according to a corporate filing and people familiar with the incorporation. Whether Srivastava told Conroy he was using the Unity imprimatur couldn’t be learned.
Gen. Clark goes to Sudan
Srivastava met Gen. Clark in early 2022. Clark, who ran NATO’s Balkan intervention in the 1990s, started an eponymous consulting firm in Little Rock, Ark., after retiring, and toyed with a presidential bid.
At first, Srivastava spoke about doing business in Africa, and over time he expressed an interest in oil, food security and sanctions, Clark said in an interview. Clark said he “did a lot of due diligence" before agreeing to work with Srivastava as an adviser on international affairs. He said Srivastava “hinted at some kind of relationship with the U.S. government" that couldn’t be disclosed.
One of Clark’s first tasks was to travel to Sudan to arrange gold exports from mines Srivastava claimed to own, the general said. Clark said he met militia leader Mohamed Hamdan Dagalo, a protagonist in the civil war that broke out afterward. Dagalo had offered gold in return for counterterrorism training Srivastava promised to perform, according to Sudanese officials.
The gold never got exported, said Clark and the officials. But Srivastava landed a payday. Dagalo, under the impression Srivastava represented the CIA and eager to develop relations with the U.S., paid him $3 million, according to the officials. They said they weren’t aware of Srivastava ever doing security work.
The oil trader
By the time Russia invaded Ukraine in February 2022, Niels Troost had traded Russian oil for almost three decades from Geneva, amassing a fortune.
The Dutch trader’s business soon ran into trouble, as European banks cut off Russia-focused companies. A business associate threatened to destroy him, suggesting he would spread allegations about connections in Russia, according to the trader, memos he wrote at the time and messages.
Troost said in an interview he confided in Ugandan oil executive Habib Kagimu, who introduced him to someone he said could help. He goes by “G," short for ghost, Troost recalled Kagimu saying. “G" had told Kagimu he joined the CIA aged 16 after seeing a roadside recruiting ad, according to an affidavit signed by the Ugandan executive and reviewed by the Journal. Kagimu vouched for “G’s" espionage chops, according to Troost and the affidavit.
“G" was Srivastava. Troost says the purported spy returned with scary news: The person threatening him wrote a report for the FBI saying the trader worked with Russia’s security services.
Troost says he protested that he didn’t deal with Russian state companies. Srivastava said he persuaded the feds Troost was the wrong guy, according to the trader.
Not only that, he had an opportunity, Troost said. Srivastava would get him permission from the U.S. to trade Russian oil as part of a CIA-approved program. It would help Washington keep track of Moscow’s most important industry. Srivastava would use Troost’s firm to sell commodities he received for security work he claimed to do in Africa, Troost says.
He signed up.
Under interrogation
Troost had to undergo interrogation, he says Srivastava told him. At Geneva Airport, he met French financier Nicolas Bravard, according to messages between them and people familiar with the matter. Srivastava described Bravard—who once traded bonds at Morgan Stanley and Goldman Sachs Group—as a friend in the FBI, says Troost.
After a grilling by Bravard, the trader zipped to Bali, according to Troost, and photos and videos of the trip. He says Srivastava peppered him for two days, sometimes in the jungle to avoid surveillance. Monkeys scampered over their luxurious villa.
Srivastava’s lawyers at Orrick counter that Troost “sought Mr. Srivastava out by interrupting [his] family vacation in Bali," according to a letter from the firm to the trader’s lawyers.
Srivastava confided he “was with the CIA," Troost says. He said he wanted to re-create the 17th-century Dutch East India Company, telling the Dutchman its trading outposts had been intelligence bases, according to Troost.
Good news, Troost says Srivastava announced: CIA Director William Burns cleared the program. Srivastava said he had to buy half of Troost’s company, Paramount Energy & Commodities, according to a lawsuit Paramount filed in California against BakerHostetler. The law firm, which used to represent both Paramount and Srivastava, didn’t respond to requests for comment.
Celebrating July 4th with his new business partner, Srivastava wore an “Air Force One Presidential Guest" polo-shirt, according to a video.
A few weeks later, Srivastava forwarded a message that appeared to come from someone in government complaining Troost was taking too long to sell. “This is not how to build a friendship," it said. “EB & HS calling now." Srivastava explained the acronyms referred to the executive branch and homeland security, Troost says.
At the end of July, Troost sold half Paramount’s shares to the financier, Bravard, who held them for Srivastava, according to Troost, others involved in the transaction and letters later written by Srivastava’s lawyers. The price: 50,000 francs or around $58,000. Troost says Srivastava claimed he couldn’t own the shares on paper because Russia and other countries wouldn’t do business with a U.S. agent.
Srivastava’s lawyers at Orrick later wrote to Troost’s lawyers that “it was Mr. Troost who wanted Mr. Srivastava to purchase 50% of the company" to expand Paramount through Srivastava’s “global connections."
Paramount stopped trading Russian oil from Switzerland over the summer. Its Emirati subsidiary stayed in the market. Troost says he wasn’t involved in the Dubai operation and hasn’t touched its earnings.
The trader is fighting sanctions imposed by the U.K., which said he “facilitates the unfettered trade of Russian oil."
This guy must be for real, Troost says he thought when Srivastava introduced him to Clark. The general sent Troost’s firm ideas—never executed—to trade commodities such as Libyan oil, according to messages.
Clark said he was passing on proposals from contacts.
A conference in Bali
Before the 2022 midterms, Srivastava plowed money into Democratic campaigns including $500,000 to the Senate Majority PAC, according to federal donation data. He funded a food-security conference for the Atlantic Council in Bali. Price tag: About $1 million, said people familiar with the event.
Senate Majority Leader Chuck Schumer appeared in a video about the food crisis.
Seconds later, Srivastava strode on stage with an American flag pinned to his collar, according to a video.
“My work through my company, Unity Resources Group, has taken me to hot spots around the world," he said, adding: “I stand before you today as a proud American devoted to the venerated principles of my country."
What the guests didn’t know: Wyoming had dissolved the firm a month before for failure to file its annual report, according to a filing. And he wasn’t a U.S. citizen, said a person familiar with the matter.
“A special thank you to Gaurav and your family foundation," said Rep. Pat Ryan by video. Srivastava had donated to the congressman, and told him he had a connection to the CIA, said a person briefed on their interactions.
John Legend performed after embracing Srivastava. Prabowo Subianto, Indonesia’s defense minister—and now president-elect—thanked “Mr. Gaurav" for the event. “I call him Mr. G."
Pacific Palisades villa
Srivastava extracted fresh cash from Troost’s company via a conglomerate called Arsari Group, controlled by Subianto’s brother.
Srivastava told Troost Indonesia was a key U.S. ally, and Arsari a vehicle for CIA ops, the trader said. He pressed Paramount to lend Arsari $51 million as a biofuels investment, according to Troost, a former Paramount official, a drawdown notice, bank-transfer statements, a business proposal and messages to Arsari from a Srivastava lawyer in Jakarta.
In reality, Srivastava wanted to use some of the money to pay for a villa in swanky Pacific Palisades, according to emails, messages and letters between an Arsari official and another of his lawyers.
But with the clock ticking on the house purchase, trouble struck: Bank officials blocked a $25 million transfer to a Delaware shell corporation controlled by Srivastava, suspicious about its structure, according to the correspondence. The transfer request was then repackaged as a loan repayment, and the bank let the money through.
A spokeswoman for Arsari said it terminated relationships with Srivastava and his L.A. lawyer after “commercial interactions that led us to question their integrity."
Srivastava and his wife beat several celebrities to buy the villa for $24.5 million, according to property records and people involved in or briefed on the deal.
Srivastava’s lawyers denied he benefited from Paramount’s loan.
More cash arrived another way. Troost and Srivastava set up an American subsidiary of Paramount, which the Swiss parent lent $6 million to get started, according to the trader, others familiar with the transaction and a loan document. In January 2023, Srivastava said he needed most of that to reimburse expenses, according to an email.
“He never showed what the money was being spent on," Troost says.
Unicom Worldwide
Srivastava set up shop in an office in L.A. with views over the beach, said people familiar with the matter. He decorated it with American flags, 9/11 memorabilia and eagle seals, giving the appearance of a governmental building, according to some of the people and a photo.
The office was to be the headquarters of Unicom Worldwide, a combination of Unity’s security service and Paramount’s traders. Unicom would put boots on the ground, gather intelligence, spread U.S. influence and get paid in commodities. Men from the world Srivastava aspired to inhabit—espionage, covert ops and high-stakes trades—joined the team.
One, retired Army special-operations officer James Reese, had met Srivastava the previous summer when Troost asked him to go to Ukraine to oversee cargoes of grain about to sail through the Black Sea, said people familiar with the matter. Reese first crossed paths with Troost under the Trump administration, when a firm he co-founded got a sanctions waiver to do oil deals with Kurdish allies of the U.S. in Syria.
Another addition: John Maguire, who made his name flushing out a Russian mole at the top of the CIA before helping run agency operations in Iraq, according to people familiar with his career and an interview he gave to the True Spies podcast in 2022.
In a brief phone interview, Maguire said the Journal had “no idea" what the real story was, and implied that Srivastava was the victim of a Russia-sponsored disinformation campaign.
One project was to provide personal protection to the president of the Democratic Republic of the Congo, a source of materials for electric vehicles, according to a business proposal and people familiar with the venture. Srivastava didn’t show up to a meeting he arranged in Brussels with the DRC president, leaving Clark to ad-lib about Unity’s capabilities, some of the people said.
The DRC’s U.S. embassy didn’t respond to a request for comment.
The ‘inversion’
By spring, Troost says, he was anxious. There was no paperwork showing Paramount had governmental backing. Srivastava told Troost he had to move the firm so it was based in the U.S., in a maneuver known as an “inversion," according to the trader, former Paramount staffers and the lawsuit against BakerHostetler.
Creating a U.S. company was a plan “conceived of by Mr. Troost—not Mr. Srivastava and certainly not as part of any so-called fraud," Srivastava’s lawyers said.
Messages, emails and recordings of phone calls, though, show Srivastava and his representatives pressing Troost to “invert" as fast as possible. Troost says it made no sense, and he feared it could give Srivastava control of Paramount’s remaining money.
Troost flew to California in March, but says Srivastava wouldn’t let him into the office, claiming he didn’t have clearance without doing a lie-detector test.
On Capitol Hill
Donations and lobbyists opened doors. That spring, Srivastava met Mark Warner, Democratic chair of the Senate Select Committee on Intelligence; Sen. Richard Blumenthal’s staff; Rep. Ryan and his friend from West Point, Republican Rep. John James, among other lawmakers and officials.
Srivastava wanted James to introduce the Congo president to members of Congress, said people familiar with the meetings. Staffers had a hard time following Srivastava’s presentation, some of them said. Warner warned a contact on the Hill to be careful with Srivastava, said people familiar with the call.
Just as Srivastava scored in D.C., trouble was brewing in L.A. The money from Paramount was almost out. In April, Clark got a final payment of $128,000, about half what he said he was owed, according to a company spreadsheet and a letter the general’s lawyers wrote to Srivastava. Clark said he stopped working with him in early 2023.
The Atlantic Council pulled out of talks to establish a national-security institute named after Srivastava and returned $500,000, said people familiar with the matter. It couldn’t tell if he was telling the truth about himself, they said.
Most problematic, Troost had grown wary of G’s story and refused to send more money.
Srivastava tried to convince Troost he was a “nonofficial cover operative," or NOC, one of 30 such top-secret agents working for the U.S., according to recordings. “I never lost a f—ing one guy on a mission, man," he told Troost.
Warren Buffett was once a NOC and now ran the CIA’s pension plan, Srivastava claimed, explaining that NOCs all knew each other.
“I’ve never heard of Mr. Srivastava and I have no connection with the CIA," Buffett told the Journal.
In early May, 2023 Srivastava told Troost CIA Director Burns had yelled at him to do the inversion.
“He’s saying what the f— are you doing," Srivastava said. “He said I want this done…He said G, stop with the bulls—."
Explain we’re ironing out a corporate-governance issue, Troost responded.
“Man you have to understand these people, the rulebook doesn’t matter," Srivastava said. “It is in the United States government charter which was written in the Declaration of Independence. It’s there. He can do whatever he wants. It’s part of our Constitution."
Srivastava’s lawyers said he “has no recollection of this conversation and further never had a call with William Burns or the CIA—it is a fabrication."
Troost rescinded Srivastava’s share purchase on the grounds he had been deceived.
Srivastava and his representatives argued that Troost had deceived him by moving money out of Paramount, which the trader denies.
Reese stopped working with Srivastava soon after Troost, but Maguire stuck with him, said people familiar with the matter.
Troost, the trader, feels burned, but takes solace in believing he wasn’t alone. “It wasn’t just me," he says. “The entire political system fell for his story."
Nicholas Bariyo, Costas Paris, Elisa Cho and Jim Oberman contributed to this article.
Write to Joe Wallace at joe.wallace@wsj.com