How is Russia trying to turn desperate Ukrainians into traitors?

Svetlana says she never thought about betraying her country, “not for a single moment.”

“My husband would never forgive me,” she says as we meet in her apartment near Kiev.

The 42-year-old had been waiting for news of her husband Dima, a military doctor detained by Russia, for more than two years when she suddenly received a phone call.

The voice at the end of the phone told her that if she committed treason against Ukraine, Dima might be eligible for better treatment in prison, or even early release.

“A Ukrainian number called me,” Svetlana explains. “I answered, and the man introduced himself as Dmitry.” “He spoke with a Russian accent.”

He added: “You can either burn down the military enlistment office, set fire to a military vehicle, or sabotage an electrical box of the Ukrainian railway.”

There was another option: revealing the locations of nearby air defense units — vital military assets that keep Ukraine's skies safe from Russian drones and missiles.

When Dmitry made his proposal, Svetlana says she remembered the instructions that Ukrainian authorities had distributed to all families in case Russian agents contacted them: Buy as much time as possible, record and photograph everything, and report it.

Svetlana reported the matter and took screenshots of the messages which she showed to the BBC.

Ukraine's security service, the SBU, asked her to stop the Russians during the investigation. So I pretended to agree to firebombing a local railway line.

As we sat in her immaculate living room, with air-raid sirens periodically sounding outside, she played recordings she had made on her phone of two voice calls with Dmitry, made via the Telegram app. During the call, he gives instructions on how to make and plant a Molotov cocktail.

“Pour a liter of lighting fluid and add a little gasoline,” Dmitry explains. “Go to a railway crossing. Make sure there are no security cameras. And wear a hat – just in case.”

He also provided Svetlana with a tutorial on how to put her phone on airplane mode once she was one to two kilometers away from her intended target, to avoid having her signals picked up by cell phone towers that investigators could use.

“Do you know what a relay box is? Take a picture of it. This must be the target of the arson attack,” explained Dmitry, who demanded proof of completion of the task.

“Write today’s date on a piece of paper and take a photo with that paper.”

In return, Dmitry said he could arrange a phone call with her husband, or deliver a package to him.

Later, the Ukrainian security service told Svetlana that the man she was talking to was already in Russia, and she should cut off contact with him. Svetlana told Dmitry that she had changed her mind.

“Then the threats started,” says Svetlana. “He said they would kill my husband, and I would never see him again.”

He kept calling for several days, saying: “Your husband is suffering, and it is your fault!”

– How worried are you that he might go through with his threats to harm Dima? Ask Svetlana. Her eyes are wet. “My heart was hurting, and I could only pray: ‘Oh God, please don’t let this happen.’”

“Part of me said: ‘This person has nothing to do with prisoners.’ And the other part asks: What if he could really do that? How would I live with myself?”

In a statement to the BBC, the Ukrainian Security Service said that cooperation with Russian agents “will in no way alleviate the prisoner’s plight, but, on the contrary, may significantly complicate the chances of their exchange.”

Authorities urge all relatives to come forward immediately if contacted by Russian agents.

Those who do, they say, will be protected and treated as victims.

But if relatives agree to commit acts of sabotage or espionage, the SBU says, “it can be classified as treason. The maximum penalty is life imprisonment.”

Authorities regularly publish arrests of Ukrainians who have allegedly committed arson or revealed the locations of military sites to Russia.

Pro-Kremlin media are filled with videos that allegedly show Ukrainians setting fire to army vehicles or railway electrical boxes.

Some perpetrators do it for the money, paid by suspected Russian agents, but it is believed there are attacks carried out by desperate relatives too.

About 50% of all POW families are contacted by Russian agents, says Petro Yatsenko, of the Ukrainian Army's POW Treatment Headquarters.

“They are in a very vulnerable position and some of them are willing to do anything, but we are trying to educate them that it will not help (their loved ones in captivity),” Pietro says.

Petro says that any action such as setting fire to a military vehicle is not considered a major material loss to the Ukrainian Armed Forces:

“But it could destabilize the unity of Ukrainian society, so that is the main problem.

Of course, if someone shares the location of air defense systems, for example, that's a big problem for us as well.”

The authorities do not publish the numbers of Ukrainians being held as prisoners of war, but the number is believed to be more than 8,000.

A Ukrainian intelligence source told the BBC that the number of cases in which relatives agreed to work with Russia was small.

The Russian government told the BBC in a statement that allegations that it is using prisoners' families as leverage are “unfounded” and that Russia is treating “Ukrainian fighters humanely and in full compliance with the Geneva Convention.”

The statement goes on to accuse Ukraine of using the same methods:

“Ukrainian handlers are actively trying to force Russian residents to commit acts of sabotage and arson within Russian territory, targeting critical infrastructure and civilian facilities.”

Svetlana's husband, Dima, was released from captivity just over three months ago.

The couple are now happily back together, enjoying playing with their four-year-old son Vova.

How did Svetlana feel when her husband was finally released?

“There were tears of joy like I had never cried before,” she says, beaming. “I felt like I had snatched my love from the jaws of death.”

Dima told his wife that the Russians had not carried out their threats to punish him for her refusal to cooperate.

When Svetlana told him about the calls, he was shocked.

“He asked me how I held up,” she says and winks. “Well, as I always say, I'm an officer's wife.”