Ninety percent of Russian missiles and drones contain Japanese components.

That figure, from Ukrainian government estimates, is the single most damning fact in this story — and it explains why Russian spies in Japan have become one of the most consequential intelligence operations of the war.

The nerve centre, according to Western intelligence officials, sits on the 22nd floor of an Aeroflot office in Tokyo. It is a ten-minute walk from the headquarters of the Japanese agency responsible for investigating espionage.

The Expulsion That Backfired

After Russia invaded Ukraine in February 2022, Western capitals expelled hundreds of Russian intelligence officers and blacklisted Kremlin-linked companies.

The goal was straightforward: choke off Moscow’s ability to gather intelligence and purchase the microchips, transmitters and machine tools it needed to build weapons.

Many of those expelled spies simply relocated.

They went to Japan.

Why Japan

The country presents an almost ideal combination of conditions for Russian intelligence.

• World-leading high-tech industry producing exactly the components Russia needs
• Historically weak espionage laws, a legacy of post-World War II constraints imposed by the war’s victors
• No foreign intelligence agency at all

Japan has long carried the nickname “spy paradise.” The label is not affectionate.

“We have a sense of crisis about this situation,” said Akihisa Shiozaki, a Liberal Democratic Party lawmaker and former lawyer who prosecuted industrial espionage cases.

The 20th Directorate

At the centre of the Tokyo operation is a secretive Russian military intelligence unit called the 20th Directorate — an entity whose existence and role have never been publicly disclosed until now.

Its officers pose as diplomats or businesspeople. Their mandate is to buy or steal battlefield technology and move it into Russia, according to current and former officials at five Western intelligence agencies.

The unit predates the Ukraine war. Since 2022, officials say, it has become central to the Kremlin’s technology procurement.

The Man Running It

Maksim Vladimirovich Filchenkov, 49, arrived in Tokyo in February 2024 with a cover identity as an Aeroflot employee.

That cover has history. GRU officers have used Aeroflot positions since the Soviet era while hunting Western technology.

Filchenkov is a veteran GRU officer with a prior tour in Japan — meaning he already knew the terrain, the suppliers, and the logistics.

His timing was not coincidental. Russia was desperate. The war had shifted from artillery duels to drone warfare, and Ukraine was gaining a technological edge. China could supply some needs, but for the most advanced weaponry, there was no substitute for the components Western firms were now forbidden to sell.

How the Pipeline Works

The mechanism is elegantly simple.

Smugglers do not need to ship Japanese technology directly to Russia. They only need to get it somewhere willing to resell.

Japan is the world’s largest exporter of sensitive dual-use technology, according to shipping records.

The largest destination for that technology is Vietnam.

Vietnam is, in turn, the largest exporter of sensitive technology to Russia.

Filchenkov built relationships with logistics companies shipping goods from Japan. Western officials have warned Japan that such relationships allow GRU officers to purchase sensitive technology under false pretences and route it onward, sometimes with fabricated shipping documents.

The Air Bill That Didn’t Redact

One company, Proco Air, advertises itself as a “bridge between Japan and Russia.” It rents cargo space on airlines flying to countries where Aeroflot still operates — Sri Lanka, Uzbekistan — which then carry goods onward to Russia.

There is nothing inherently illegal about this. Plenty of trade with Russia remains permitted.

Proco’s owner, Takehiko Miki, said he met Filchenkov around 2018 but only began working with him seriously after the Russian returned to Tokyo in 2024. Miki’s wife described their partner as an unsmiling man who showed only the “business side” of his face.

Miki denied knowing Filchenkov had intelligence ties and denied ever seeking help moving prohibited items. Proco, he insisted, ships only authorised goods — “mostly medical equipment and a few cosmetics.”

To prove it, he produced a recent air bill, attempting to black out the company names with a pen before handing it over.

The redaction failed.

The document showed a March 12 shipment of medical equipment to Russia via Sri Lanka — consigned to R-Pharm, a Moscow pharmaceutical company.

R-Pharm itself is not sanctioned. Its founder, Aleksei Repik, has been sanctioned by Australia, Britain and Canada — though not Japan — over extensive ties to Putin.

Repik has appeared repeatedly alongside the Russian president and openly described mobilising Russian business to “provide unprecedented support to the front.”

Two people with direct knowledge said Miki contacted a China-based associate introduced by Filchenkov last year, specifically requesting help shipping items he acknowledged were prohibited for Russia. Miki strongly denies this.

Proco has not been charged with any wrongdoing. Miki said Japanese authorities have never contacted him.

The Warnings Japan Received

Ukraine has not been subtle about this.

In April 2025 alone, Kyiv sent at least eight formal diplomatic letters to the Japanese Foreign Ministry. Roughly eight more followed over the year.

The letters contained lists and photographs of dozens of recovered Japanese-made components pulled from Russian weapons used in attacks on civilians: circuit boards, transmitters, semiconductors.

One reviewed letter noted Japanese components found in ballistic missiles.

“I hope you take this information into account when considering further restrictions against Russia,” it read.

The components came from major Japanese manufacturers — NEC, Panasonic, Toshiba and others. There is no evidence these companies knowingly sold to Russia; the parts were almost certainly shipped elsewhere and resold. All denied wrongdoing and affirmed compliance with sanctions.

The Evidence in the Rubble

In May, a Russian Kh-101 cruise missile destroyed a residential tower block in Kyiv, killing at least 24 people.

Investigators sifted the debris.

According to a Ukrainian assessment, the missile had been guided by Japanese components widely banned from export to Russia.

Japan’s Response

Japan has not been indifferent to Ukraine. It joined sanctions on the day of the invasion and broke with post-war precedent by sending military aid — bulletproof vests, helmets.

Under Prime Minister Sanae Takaichi, the country has launched an ambitious effort to strengthen intelligence capabilities and prevent illegal exports.

The limitations remain stark. In January, Tokyo police uncovered a Russian intelligence officer posing as a Ukrainian who tried to steal trade secrets. With no espionage legislation available, prosecutors charged the Japanese worker involved under competition law.

The spy had already left the country.

The Door That Never Opens

Reporters visited the Aeroflot office three times.

Behind a door resembling a prison entrance — a narrow slit of window, a doorbell — a woman with a Russian Orthodox cross answered. Filing cabinets lined the room, each topped with a model Aeroflot jet. The blinds were drawn.

Filchenkov was never there.

On the third visit, she agreed to phone him.

She returned after a brief conversation in Russian. Filchenkov, she said, did not want to talk.