At this point, Okhotin says, the authorities stepped up their threats of criminal prosecution, holding a five-year sentence over his head.

Stephan P. Sonnenberg, a Harvard Human Rights Project Fellow and a student at Harvard Law School who has worked closely with Okhotin in the last months, says that once Okhotin turned down their bribe solicitations, the officials were bound to ratchet up the legal pressure.

The relevant Russian codes, Sonnenberg says, “specifically state that what Andrew did is not a crime,” only an administrative violation.

But by refusing to grease their palms, Sonnenberg says, Okhotin “basically forced them to do what they’re threatening him with.”

And once the idea of criminal charges had been seriously broached—and once it became clear that Okhotin would not bend to their threats—Sonnenberg says there was no turning back for the authorities.

“Once they’ve raised a criminal case, there’s a strange momentum that arises in a Russian case, where once they’ve been accused they’re guilty,” he says.

An investigation of Okhotin’s activities was formally launched, and Sonnenberg says that it never had a chance of coming to a fair outcome.

“The prosecutor put immense pressure on the investigator to write a report which would allow him to press a criminal case,” he says.

And Okhotin says interference by the prosecutor in his investigation is the least of the improprieties in his case, citing a statement produced early on by the Russian Ministry of Foreign Affairs—the counterpart of America’s State Department—declaring Okhotin to be guilty.

“There seems to be a tremendous effort to get a conviction, even though the evidence does not warrant that sort of drive on the part of the government,” he says. “The corruption goes very high up.”

Meanwhile, says Okhotin, officials continued to angle for payoffs. A defense lawyer recommended by the prosecutor in early April made yet another overt appeal for a bribe—this time for $15,000, a sum which the lawyer soon reduced to $10,000—in exchange for a dismissed case or reduced penalties, he says.

But Sonnenberg says that the fact that charges have been filed and a trial date finally set—after the hunger strike which Okhotin imposed on himself until June 16, when the trial date was announced—does not signal an end to Okhotin’s contorted legal ordeal.

“Russian authorities like to play a game of chicken,” he says, explaining that he suspects officials hope Okhotin will flee the country before his trial, in which case they can declare him guilty and imprison him.

Okhotin agrees, saying he has been contacted by government officials with hints that such an escape would be possible.

“Normally the period between the end of an investigation and the trial date is two weeks,” he says. “They’re giving me a month and a half—they’re giving me the window to get onto a plane.”