Svetlana says she never considered betraying her native country, "not for a second."
"My husband would never forgive me," she says, when we meet in her apartment near Kiev.
The 42-year-old had been waiting for news about her husband Dima, a military medic captured in Russia, for more than two years when she suddenly received a phone call.
The voice on the other end of the line told her that if he committed treason against Ukraine, Dima might be eligible for better treatment in prison or even early release.
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"I got a call from a Ukrainian number. I answered, and the man introduced himself as Dmitri," Svetlana explains.
"He spoke with a Russian accent."
"He said, 'You can burn down a military recruiting office, set fire to a military vehicle, or sabotage a Ukrainian railway junction box.'"
There was another option: to reveal the locations of nearby air defense units - vital military assets that keep Ukrainian skies safe from Russian drones and missiles.
As Dmitri presented his proposal, Svetlana says she recalled the instructions Ukrainian authorities had given to all families in case they were approached by Russian agents: delay as long as you can, record and photograph the entire conversation, and eventually report it.
Svetlana did report it and took screenshots of the messages, which she showed to the BBC.
The Ukrainian Security Service (SBU) told her to "mislead" the Russians until she investigated the case.
And that's why Svetlana agreed to throw a firebomb at the local railway line.

'Your husband is being tortured now and it's your fault'
As we sit with her in her immaculate living room, air raid sirens periodically wailing outside, she plays me recordings of two voice conversations she made with Dmitry on her phone, conducted via the Telegram app.
During the call, he gives her instructions on how to make and set up a Molotov cocktail.
"Pour in a liter of lighter fluid and add some real gasoline," Dmitri explains.
"Go to any railroad crossing. Make sure there are no security cameras. Wear a hat - just in case."
He also taught Svetlana how to put her phone in airplane mode when she was within a kilometer or two of her intended target, to avoid her signal being recorded by a cell phone tower and that information being used later in the investigation.

"Do you know what a junction box is? Take a picture of it. That should be the target of your firebomb attack," Dmitri explained to her, who was looking for proof that the task had been completed.
"Write today's date on a piece of paper and take a picture with that paper."
In return, Dmitri said, he would be able to arrange a phone call with her husband or arrange for a package to be delivered to him from her.
Later, the SBU told Svetlana that the man she had spoken to was indeed in Russia and that she should cut off all contact with him.
Svetlana told Dmitry that she had changed her mind.
"That's when the threats started," says Svetlana.
"He said he would kill my husband and that I would never see him again. He called me for days and said, 'Your husband is being tortured now, and it's your fault.'"
"How worried were you that he might carry out his threats to harm Dima?" I ask Svetlana.
Her eyes filled with tears.
"My heart ached and all I could do was pray: 'God, please don't let this happen.'"
"Part of me was like, 'This person has nothing to do with prisoners.' Part of me was like, 'What if he can really do this? How am I going to live with myself?'"
In a statement to the BBC, the SBU said that cooperation with Russian agents "will in no way ease the prisoner's suffering; on the contrary, it could even significantly complicate his chances of being exchanged."
Authorities are urging all relatives to come forward immediately if they are contacted by Russian agents.
Those who do so, they say, will be "protected" and treated as victims.
But if relatives agree to commit sabotage or espionage, the SBU says, "it could be classified as treason. The maximum penalty is life imprisonment."
Authorities regularly publicly announce the arrests of Ukrainians who allegedly set fires or revealed the locations of military positions to Russia.
Media outlets close to the Kremlin are full of footage claiming to show Ukrainians setting fire to military vehicles or railway junction boxes.
Some of the perpetrators do it for money, paid by suspected Russian agents, but it is believed that these attacks are also carried out by desperate relatives.

Petro Yatsenko, from the Ukrainian army's headquarters for the treatment of prisoners of war, says that Russian agents have contacted about 50 percent of all families of prisoners of war.
"They are in a very vulnerable position and some of them are ready for anything," says Petro, "but we try to educate them that it will not help their loved ones in captivity."
Petro says that an act such as setting fire to a military vehicle is not considered a significant material loss for the Ukrainian armed forces:
"But it can destabilize the unity of Ukrainian society, so that's a big problem. And, of course, if someone discovers the location of, for example, an air defense system, that's a big problem for us too," he admits.
The authorities do not publish the number of Ukrainians held as prisoners of war, but it 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 cooperate with the Russians was very small.
The Russian government told the BBC in a statement that accusations that it was using prisoners' families for blackmail were "unfounded" and that Russia was treating "Ukrainian fighters humanely and in full accordance with the Geneva Convention."
The statement further accuses Ukraine of using the same methods:
"Ukrainian recruiters are actively trying to persuade Russian residents to commit acts of sabotage and arson on Russian territory, targeting key infrastructure and civilian facilities."

Svetlana's husband Dima was released from captivity a little over three months ago.
The couple is now back together and enjoying playing with their four-year-old son Vova.
How did Svetlana feel when her husband was finally released?
"I cried tears of joy like never before," she says, beaming.
"I felt like I had pulled my love from the jaws of death."
Dima told his wife that the Russians had not followed through on their threats to punish him if she refused to cooperate.
When Svetlana told him about the calls, he was shocked.
"He asked me how I endured it."
"I told him, as I always say, that I am, after all, an officer's wife," she says with a wink.
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