Coronavirus on the Darknet: What’s Being Sold on the Black Market During the Pandemic

We were somewhere on the M-11 highway, not far from Vyshny Volochyok, when it started to hit us. I remember mumbling something like, “I think I’m feeling a bit off; maybe you should drive?” Suddenly, I burst into a dry cough that shook the car as we sped toward St. Petersburg at nearly 125 mph. Someone’s voice cried out, “Jesus Christ! Where did this damn virus come from?!” Then everything went quiet again. My lawyer was pouring cough syrup straight from the bottle down his throat. “Why the hell are you wheezing like that?” he muttered, staring at the sun with his eyes closed behind the brim of his FBI cap. “Don’t worry about it,” I said. “Your turn to drive.” I hit the brakes and pulled the Lada Priora over to the side of the road. “No point mentioning the lack of oxygen,” I thought. “The poor bastard will feel the symptoms soon enough.”

It was almost noon, and we still had over 125 miles to go. Tough miles. I knew we were short on time, and soon enough, the fever would hit us both so hard the heavens would feel the heat. But there was no turning back, and no time to rest. We’d have to make it on the move. Press registration for the legendary Chaos Constructions was in full swing, and we had to make it by four to claim our disinfected luxury suite. A trendy Moscow infosec magazine had taken care of the reservation, not to mention this fancy rental car we picked up on Tverskaya. And I, among other things, am a professional journalist; so I was obligated to file a report from the scene, dead or alive. The editors of the Geek section gave me 30,000 rubles in cash, most of which was immediately spent on medicine. Our trunk looked like a mobile pharmacy.

We had ten packs of 100 disposable medical masks each, fifty pairs of powder-free nitrile gloves, forty universal protective coveralls, two contactless thermometers, half a liter of blood from a recovered COVID-19 patient, several dozen blister packs of various antivirals… plus five 10ml vials of experimental vaccines, three portable mini-ventilators, and two gas masks. We got all of this the day before from darknet marketplaces.

The only thing that worried us were the gas masks. There’s nothing scarier or more reckless than a person in a gas mask on Ligovsky Avenue. Once you start stocking up on anti-coronavirus gear, it’s hard to stop. But we only took the essentials—what you can’t do without on the road. And the selection was huge…

Masks, Gloves, and Two Gas Masks

You’ve probably guessed why I’m quoting the classics. With the start of the pandemic, the darknet—like the open web—started selling all sorts of products to help you avoid catching COVID-19 or lessen its effects (some even promise a cure!). Since the shadowy side of the web is especially interesting to us, that’s where I went to check out the offerings. Let’s take a look together at what’s being peddled on forums alongside drugs and fake IDs. We’ll also compare prices to regular stores.

Personal protective equipment (PPE) tops the list of anti-coronavirus products by variety—228 listings, 102 of them unique. There are 36 types of masks alone: blue, black, white, synthetic, cotton, disposable, and washable. Nothing too special, except for the Hemp Black mask—the crown jewel from American company Ecofibre.

This seamless, hypoallergenic mask can withstand 25 wash cycles. Hemp Black is made from hemp fiber with copper threads, infused with cannabis flower extract. The metal prevents bacteria from multiplying, and the plant extract blocks odors. What’s in the elixir is unknown. I’m sure the THC content is no more than 0.3%, otherwise it would be illegal in the US. So Hemp Black isn’t suitable for recreational use. Most likely, the extract contains CBD—a cannabinoid banned in Russia. In short, I wouldn’t recommend buying it.

You can also pick up one of six types of protective coveralls to go with your mask. There are budget options, like the DuPont TY122S-XL-EACH with hood and boot covers. For those with deep pockets, there’s the MIRA SAFETY Hazmat Suit, which protects against chemicals, microorganisms, and radiation. The “Isolation Gowns” section features 16 different products. These are made from polyester or polyurethane and can be washed several times. Unlike coveralls, gowns don’t protect your legs, neck, or head from liquids, so they don’t offer true peace of mind.

Glove fans are definitely not forgotten—36 types of hand protection are on offer: vinyl, nitrile, latex, rubber, and polyethylene. Special mention goes to UXglove—vulcanized monsters made from natural latex, 1.15 mm thick. If you need to change wiring, you’ll want dielectric gloves, like those from ShuangAn, rated for up to 12,000 volts. For those afraid of cuts, nylon FORTEM gloves with level 5 protection are available.

It’s no secret that masks don’t eliminate the risk of catching COVID-19. Truly effective respiratory PPE are respirators and gas masks. The dark web offers six types of respirators: ATTICA with carbon filters, 3M 7501/37081(AAD) with two filter cartridges, the hipster UltraTac with an advanced aeration system, Safety Works SWX00318 with a hygiene pad, MSA 815452 for miners, and the top-of-the-line Honeywell North 7600, which fully covers the face and blocks both organic and inorganic particles. There are only two gas mask models: the Polish MP5 with a NATO FP-5 filter and the French Surplus ARF-A with a drinking system and voice diaphragm—also NATO standard. Naturally, I couldn’t resist the Surplus ARF-A.

Gadgets

I decided to include thermal scanners and COVID-19 tests as gadgets. The darknet offers six types of contactless thermometers. These devices measure the amplitude of electromagnetic radiation in the infrared spectrum and convert it to heat output. The thermometer gun is a gadget for paranoid spenders willing to let guests in only after a pointless check. First, lack of fever doesn’t mean someone isn’t carrying the virus. Second, you don’t need a $20+ device to take a temperature—a regular thermometer will do. So, thermal scanners are a pass.

There are 13 types of COVID-19 test kits for sale by underground dealers. Rapid tests detect antibodies to COVID-19 in blood, identifying two classes of globular proteins: IgM and IgG. If the first is present, the person was recently infected. The second means the person has recovered and developed immunity. The test is easy to do in the field: drop blood into a special well, add buffer solution (included), and wait about 20 minutes.

However, Igor Artemyev, head of Russia’s Federal Antimonopoly Service, disagrees that even a schoolkid can handle a rapid test. He believes only qualified medical professionals should use them. In July, Artemyev promised to take action against online stores selling tests, but nothing has happened yet.

According to the British Cochrane organization, in the first week after symptoms appear, rapid tests correctly identify only 30% of COVID-19 cases, in the second week—70%, and from day 15 to 35—90%. According to Anna Popova, head of Rospotrebnadzor, tests done in their labs are 98% accurate, while those in the Ministry of Health’s labs are only 80%. Many public hospitals offer free testing. So, for cost and reliability, it’s better to go to a medical facility. Rapid tests are a lifesaver only when clinics are out of reach.

Looking for a Miracle Cure?

“High quality.” “Approved by professionals.” “100% safe.” “Guaranteed effectiveness.” These are the slogans used by vendors selling coronavirus vaccines. I found five different products. Sellers claim the vaccine has long been invented and tested, but the government is hiding it to spread panic. This marketing ploy works well on conspiracy theorists and reassures buyers who believe in reptilians, Atlanteans, and other nonsense. One entrepreneur claims to have access to a secret lab and is ready to sell vials of a tested antidote. No discounts—the product is worth its weight in gold. Some vendors even refuse to answer questions until payment is made.

Dozens of pharmaceutical companies have developed COVID-19 vaccines and are conducting or have completed clinical trials. However, none are on sale yet. Russia will likely be the first country to start vaccinations. In September, doctors will conduct large-scale testing of the domestic “Sputnik V” vaccine, and by October, anyone can get the shot. The Chinese plan to start selling their vaccine in December, and the Italians even later—in January 2021. So, at best, darknet antivirals are placebos; at worst, they’re sources of infection or toxic substances.

Twenty-three dealers offer to sell blood, saliva, or plasma from recovered COVID-19 patients. Five vendors sell plasma samples allegedly tested for infectious diseases. The other 18 claim they had COVID-19 and are selling their own blood or saliva. These biological fluids contain antibodies, so intravenous administration is essentially passive immunization. In theory, this increases resistance to COVID-19, but the effect lasts a maximum of six weeks. Repeat passive vaccination often causes complications and doesn’t stimulate immunity.

Blood plasma can be kept at room temperature for no more than eight hours; it’s stored in a freezer at –4°F. Dealers ship plasma samples by mail in vacuum packaging, obviously without a built-in fridge. Untreated blood and saliva break down quickly and last only a couple of hours at best at above-freezing temperatures. A package from abroad to Russia will take at least ten days. Even if the biological fluids sold on the dark web are from real COVID-19 survivors, the antibodies will be destroyed long before they reach customs, making the “vaccine” useless.

Remedies

During the COVID-19 epidemic, four antiviral drugs appeared on dark marketplaces:

• hydroxychloroquine
• chloroquine
• favipiravir
• azithromycin

Hydroxychloroquine is probably the most hyped coronavirus potion. US President Donald Trump and Brazil’s Jair Bolsonaro took it as a preventive measure. To test its effectiveness, University of Minnesota researchers conducted a placebo-controlled randomized study with 821 volunteers who had contact with infected people. Volunteers were split into two groups: one took a placebo, the other hydroxychloroquine.

In the end, 11.8% of those who took the drug got COVID-19, compared to 14.3% in the placebo group. The verdict: the drug doesn’t make a statistically significant difference. Hopes for hydroxychloroquine as a treatment also collapsed after it was found not to ease coronavirus symptoms.

Chloroquine, a close relative of hydroxychloroquine, proved completely ineffective against COVID-19. According to Germany’s Primate Research Center, the drug doesn’t stop the virus from entering lung cells. At best, it does nothing; at worst, it worsens the disease.

Favipiravir is much more interesting. Clinical trials showed it speeds up recovery in patients with moderate COVID-19. 71.4% of those who took it improved by day seven after symptoms appeared. However, it had no effect on those with severe cases.

Azithromycin, an antibiotic, is another bogus anti-coronavirus drug. American tests showed it doesn’t stop COVID-19 replication or prevent inflammation caused by the virus. Worse, taking it with chloroquine increases coronavirus mortality by 2–3%.

My conclusion? Favipiravir looks like it might help and is considered safe. The other three are, at best, expensive placebos and, at worst, dangerous substances that threaten the health and even lives of infected people.

The COVID Fighter’s Cookbook

Someone enterprising is selling a manual called “Corona Virus Covid19 Epidemic Survival Handbook Medical Physical Social Economic and Financial Guide.” The guide includes information on:

• coronavirus symptoms
• ways to avoid infection
• treatment methods
• measures taken by authorities to fight COVID-19
• epidemic consequences
• key principles for preparing for quarantine

The dark web price for the manual is $15. Meanwhile, you can download the book “COVID-19: Simple Answers to Top Questions” for free on the clear web. Written by American scientists Vincent Covello and Randall Hyer, it covers all the hot topics about coronavirus. But the darknet manual went on sale in April, and the guide was written in July. So both are already outdated.

How Much Does It All Cost?

Prices are steep. A basic disposable mask that costs 30 rubles at a pharmacy is sold for $10 including shipping. If you buy in bulk, you can save a lot—100,000 masks go for $1,000 (one cent each, about 75 kopecks). The same Hemp Black mask costs $24.95 on the official website, but only ships within the US. On darknet marketplaces, it’s $50 plus $5 for worldwide shipping—a nearly 100% markup, classic darknet style.

Respirators range from $29 to $150. In Russian stores, prices are more reasonable: $2.50 to $7. Vinyl, latex, nitrile, and polyethylene gloves are sold only in packs of 100 pairs for $19–25. The average price in legal Russian stores is $22. Rubber and dielectric gloves are at least four times more expensive from underground dealers: $24 versus $6.

The MP5 gas mask goes for $30, Surplus ARF-A for $25. I couldn’t find the Polish model for sale in Russia, but in Ukraine it’s 957 hryvnias ($35). The Surplus ARF-A is a real rarity—no posts about it for sale in the CIS. A COVID-19 test on the darknet costs $220, while a Russian online store charges $44. Underground vendors sell thermal scanners for $70, while Ozon has them for $27.

No surprise, vaccines are the most expensive anti-coronavirus products. Chinese vaccines go for $10,000–15,000, the Swedish shot is €1,700, and the American one is the cheapest at $300. 500 ml of plasma from recovered patients costs $10,500; blood and saliva are $1,000.

Who’s Profiting from COVID-19?

Shops on Russian-language platforms aren’t trying to cash in on coronavirus hysteria. The COVID-19 goods are sold by dealers registered on international marketplaces. I counted 114 vendors selling PPE, tests, vaccines, medicines, and guides. Of these, 70 are Americans, six Europeans, three Brits, two Australians, and the remaining 33 didn’t specify their location, so their whereabouts are unknown.