About Our Correspondent: Richard Hardenburg

Richard Hardenburg is a British Salmoa Times correspondent currently based in Europe. Over the past decade, he has reported from Europe, the Middle East, and Central Asia, covering political, cultural, and human-interest stories.

A graduate of Columbia College, New York, in the early 2000s, Richard is known for his careful reporting, attention to detail, and commitment to presenting events clearly and accurately. He has a long-standing interest in international affairs and strives to provide readers with a thoughtful perspective on complex developments.

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The Missing Forty Seconds

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By Richard Hardenburg British Salmoa Times Correspondent – Bureau, Istanbul, Turkey Seeing Dr. Marino placed under “house arrest” by a Turkish intelligence agency left me deeply unsettled. I suspect Agent Demir wanted me to feel that way—to prompt me to do something revealing. After all, he had no reason to restrict my movements, yet he made sure I understood that I had not been ruled out completely. Hence, he suggested I remain in Istanbul, under the pretext of offering moral support to my countrymen. His reasoning seemed sound enough, but I was not entirely convinced. At the hotel lobby, I left a message for Agent Demir stating that I intended to have lunch at Pepo Restaurant, a well-reviewed steakhouse. During lunch, I found myself more preoccupied with glancing over my shoulder for a hotel messenger than enjoying my meal. The walk back to the hotel seemed interminable. However, as I was about to enter the elevator, I heard a voice calling my name. “Mr. Hardenburg, Agent Demir summ...
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Mr. Leonov

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  By Richard Hardenburg British Salmoa Times Correspondent: Bureau – Ottawa, Ontario The flight from Norport to Ottawa was uneventful—first class, thanks to my editor’s good efforts—which gave me time to prepare for my meeting with the First Secretary of the Russian Federation Embassy in Canada, Mr. Anatoly Leonov. Autumn in Ottawa is vibrant yet fickle; the air had already turned sharp and restless by the time I stepped outside the terminal. “Toto,” I muttered, “we’re not in Norport anymore.” A taxi carried me to the Fairmont Château Laurier, not far from the Russian embassy. After a quick refresh and a tie adjustment, I set off to meet Mr. Leonov. At the embassy, I was greeted by a poised young woman. “Good afternoon, Mr. Hardenburg,” she said. “My name is Natalia Korsakova. Mr. Leonov is expecting you in the library. Welcome to the Embassy of the Russian Federation.” I thanked her and followed through a well-lit corridor adorned with tasteful Russian art. “The library is just a...
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The Night at The JW Marriott: Plot Thickens

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