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from Audible Originals. I'm Indira Varma and this is the spy who in the last episode, Polish aristocrat Christina Skarbek became a British spy and courier of secrets and secretary supplies between Hungary and Nazi occupied Poland. But after narrowly evading capture in Slovakia, Skaek is a wanted woman. And now that France has fallen, few places in mainland Europe will be safe from the reach of the Third Reich. You're listening to the spy who inspired the first Bond girl. This is episode two, Don't Stop Running. June 1940. Budapest, Hungary. In her studio apartment, Christina Skarbek sits on the sofa that doubles as her bed, sipping red wine. It's been two days since she and Vladimir Ledukhovsky escaped the Slovakian guards. Now they're back in Budapest, updating Skarbek's part time lover and Polish resistance member Andrzej Koweski on their failed mission. That's when I kicked the guard. He drops the flashlight and in the confusion, I grab Christina and run with her into the woods. Didn't they start shooting? No, they were too busy scooping up her diamonds. By the time they fired, we were already out of range. Scarbeck interjects. I suspect the money they stole from us had more to do with it. They made more from us than they would have got from delivering us to the Gestapo. Well, whatever the reason, I am glad you both escaped unharmed. So what now? I go back to Poland as soon as possible. Leduchowski looks horrified. Kristina, you can't. It's too dangerous. I don't care. Poland needs help. I'm going back. Kristina they have your photograph. The Gestapo are probably pinning up wanted posters of you all over Warsaw as we speak. And what do you propose I do instead? Sit here drinking wine? Is that your plan? Actually, I'm going to Palestine. Palestine? The Zet Vu' Zett are furious about the money and intelligence we lost. They don't trust you because you work for the British and think our capture was suspicious. I told them that's nonsense. But they've ordered me to join the Polish army in Palestine. My spy days are over. Did you not protest? No, Cristina, I did not. I am a soldier and those are my orders. Besides, there's not anything keeping me here, is there? Leduchowski looks at Skarbek. He still longs to be with her, but he knows their moments of passion were just that, moments. He wonders what she sees in Koweski. Is it love? Or just a shared lust for danger? Not that it matters. Skabek's lack of response only confirms that it's time to move on. So, yes, I'm going to Palestine. What about you, Ange? Will you stay in Budapest? The Polish intelligence unit has already left for Belgrade. They think Hungary will soon fall under Hitler's sway. I'm told the British may leave too. I'm not leaving. Not yet, anyhow. There's still plenty for me and Kristina to do here. If Britain is to hold out, it will need Polish pilots. We must keep the escape lines running. Leduchowski thinks it's just as well he's going to Palestine. Being away from these two can only increase his chances of survival. A few weeks later, southern Poland. Skaek treks alone across a field in the foothills of the Tatra Mountains. She's just crossed from Slovakia into Poland. Her latest mission is to collect and escort a group of Polish pilots from back to Hungary so they can go fight in the Battle of Britain. Scarbeck stops to wipe her brow and notices a faint but familiar buzz in the air. A plane. And it's getting nearer. And the only aircraft here are German reconnaissance planes watching for insurgent activity. She checks her surroundings. There's no tree cover nearby. She's exposed and easy to spot from above. She starts walking fast, scanning the sky for the aircraft. She squints into the bright sun and sees it. A single propeller Luftwaffe plane, and it's heading her way. Shit. Skaek sees a large rock ahead. It's only chest height, but the best option she's got. She powers towards it as the plane closes in behind her. Skarbek dives behind the rock, narrowly avoiding a volley of Bullets. She cowers in a ball as the plane passes overhead. The plane turns, preparing for another attack. Skarbek crouches, poised to spring forward the moment the plane commits to its course. If she moves too soon, she could run into the path of its guns. If she moves too late, she'll be cut to ribbons. The plane completes its turn. Scarbeck leaps off her haunches and races round to the other side of the rock, skidding to a stop and curling into a tight ball. Again, the ground around her explodes in a storm. Scarlet looks up to see the plane beginning to circle back again. She glowers at the aircraft. It has her trapped. The only way out is to keep playing cat and mouse until the pilot runs out of bullets or fuel. She gets back on her haunches and prepares to run again. After what feels like hours of scuttling around the rock, the pilot gives up. Scarbax stands, forms a fist with her thumb sticking out between her index and middle fingers and thrusts it in the direction of the departing plane. You get a big. Having given the pilot Poland's equivalent of flipping the bird, Scarbeck resumes her journey to collect the Polish pilots with fresh determination. Months later Autumn 1940 Budapest in her studio flat, Skarbek shivers beneath a blanket. She's just got back from another mission to Poland, but this time the hard trek over the mountains has left her exhausted and laid low with flu. She looks up as Kowarski enters the apartment. Hey, kitten. How are you feeling? I'll make you a hot lemon. Kowarski heads to the kitchenette and puts on the kettle. A few moments later, he returns. Here, drink up. Skaek clasps the hot drink gratefully. Then she sees the worry on Koweski's face. Don't worry, I'm not that ill. I just need rest. I'm glad. But it's not that that has me worried. What is it then? I just met with my friends in the Hungarian police. They told me to leave the country before it's too late. Skarbek's not surprised. Hungary just joined the Axis powers. She and Kowrski now live in enemy territory. Kowrski sits next to Skarbek. Maybe it is time we left. No, not yet. I'm expecting a package from the Musketeers. I cannot leave until it arrives. There's no one else to receive it. Is this information worth the risk? If they are sending it, it matters. But if you wish to go without me, I understand. Leave without you? Never. I will stay until you are ready to leave. Now finish your drink. And rest. You're no use to anyone if you're ill. Two months later January 1941 Skaek studio flat this is the police. Open up. Skarbek wakes with a start and shares a glance with Koweski. They both know they should have left Budapest weeks ago. Now it's too late to run. But they have rehearsed for this moment. Open this door. Kowrski lifts himself out of bed and reaches for his artificial leg. I'm coming, but I need to put my leg on. Kowrski heads to the door while Skarbek stays under the bedsheet. What is this about? You and Kristina Skarbek are under arrest on suspicion of spying. We have a warrant to search this apartment. Step aside. The police march into the flat and find themselves gathered around the bed where Scarbeck is still laying beneath the sheets. The police chief glares at her. Get out of bed. We need to search this apartment. Scarbeck stands up, causing her bedsheet to fall and reveal her naked body. The policemen look embarrassed and avert their eyes. Just as she hoped. I'll make you all some tea, but first please turn around and allow me to dress. The policemen turn their backs to her. She grabs a dress, puts on the kettle and enters the bathroom. After locking the door, she pulls on the dress and retrieves her diary from the medicine cabinet. As the screech of the kettle and noise of the police search fills the flat, she tears incriminating pages from the diary and drops them into the toilet bowl. Then she flushes the evidence away. What are you doing in there? Come out immediately. Scarbeck opens the door and smiles sweetly. Is there a problem, officer? Why are you flushing the toilet? Isn't it usual to flush the toilet after use? No, forget the tea. Take them away for questioning. The policemen frog march Skarbek and Kowalski out of the flat. Outside, a police van is waiting to deliver them to the Gestapo for interrogation. The police bundle them into the van and slammed the doors shut behind them. January 1941 Budapest, Hungary Two hours after the police arrested Anze Kovirski and Christina Scarbeck in a grand house that's been repurposed as a prison, Kowarski is brought into a large room by a Hungarian policeman. The only seat is a small, uncomfortable looking wooden chair and next to it is an intimidatingly large man wearing a grey green Gestapo uniform. He looks Kowrski up and down. Strip to your underpants. Kowrski unbuttons his shirt and hands it to the Hungarian policeman, who examines it as if secrets lurk within it the same happens with his shoes, socks and trousers. Koweski notices the Gestapo man eyeing his artificial leg. Remove your leg. I'll need to sit. The Gestapo officer drags the wooden chair to the middle of the room. Now sit and remove your leg. Kowrski takes off his leg and watches as the policeman dismantles it. You won't find anything in there. The Gestapo officer and the policeman ignore him. From elsewhere in the building, Kowrski hears Skarbek coughing. She's had a cough for a few days now. At least she's nearby. The policeman finishes examining the leg. There's nothing. The Gestapo officer nods. He removes his cap and jacket and rolls up his shirt sleeves, then turns to the policeman. You can leave now. The policeman looks ready to object, but then reconsiders and leaves the room. The Gestapo officer crouches next to Koweski, close enough for Koweski to feel the German's warm tobacco scented breath on his cheek. Why do you spend so much time at the British Legation? Because I doubt the German ambassador would welcome me. The Gestapo officer grins, then punches Koweski in the mouth. In a nearby room, Skaek hears Koweski getting beaten. She's in a small room, face to face with a thin faced Gestapo interrogator. In the corner of the room, a Hungarian policeman watches in silence. Mrs. Scarbeck, tell me, why does Anzej Koweski spend so much time at the British Legation? Skaek smiles before delivering the line. She and Koweski rehearsed for such a question. Because I doubt the German ambassador would welcome him. Also, the British ambassador's daughter is very attractive. Skaabek allows herself to cough. She needs to. But she also wants Kowairski to know that she's nearby. The interrogator narrows his eyes. Hmm. If that is true, why do you also spend so much time there? Have you met Sir Owen, the British Ambassador? I guess not. But he is rather dashing. Do you have dealings with the British other than flirtations? No. In the other room, Kowairski sits slumped in the wooden chair. A long string of bloody drool hangs from his busted lip. From elsewhere in the building, he hears Scarbeck coughing again. The door to the room opens. Kowrski looks up and sees the Hungarian police chief who arrested him. He shouts at him. Hey. We are in the Royal Kingdom of Hungary and I am a Polish officer. Will you permit this German bastard to carry on hitting me? The police chief looks startled at the sight of Kowesk in his underpants with half A leg missing and blood dripping from his mouth. But the Gestapo brute interrogating him looks delighted. So you admit it. You are a Polish army officer. Once an officer, always an officer. But an officer without a leg is not much use. The Gestapo officer readies a fist only for the police chief to signal for him to follow him out of the room. The Gestapo man leans in close to Kowarski. You think you're funny? Wait until we get you over the border. In the other room, the thin faced Gestapo interrogator hands Scarbeck a photograph of herself. It's the one from the forged travel documents she lost when escaping the Slovakian guards last summer. This is you, isn't it? Scarbeck coughs again, buying time to think. Well, the likeness is striking, but it seems to me that the girl in this picture is much prettier. The interrogator looks annoyed and takes the photograph back. Scarbeck decides it's time to deploy the disposal distraction she's been formulating since the interrogation began. Using all her willpower, she bites down on her tongue. Harder, then harder again, pushing through pain until the flesh gives and blood floods her mouth. And then she coughs. Blood sprays from her mouth in a cloud of red mist and splashes down the front of her dress. The interrogator leaped back in shock. The Hungarian policeman in the corner springs from his seat, eyes wild with terror. How long have you been coughing blood? Have you seen a doctor? Skarbek shakes her head as blood drips off of her chin. I didn't want to alarm my friend, but I've been coughing blood for some days now. I was about to see a specialist, but then you arrested me. The interrogator and policeman edged towards the door. They clearly think she's got tuberculosis, just as she hoped. In the other room, the Gestapo brute presses his face close to Kowarski's. Confess you're a British spy. But before Kowrski can respond, the door opens. The Gestapo officer spins round, nostrils flaring in irritation at the interruption. But then Skarbek is led into the room. There's dried blood on her chin and splattered down her dress. Kowairski sits up. Kristina, are you okay? Skaabek rushes over and hugs him. Yes, but the doctor says I'm not well. Not well at all. And you might not be either. The Hungarian policeman who led Skarbek into the room hands Kowrski his clothes and artificial leg. Get dressed. You're both being released under house arrest. You will remain at your apartment until further notice. We're not finished with you two yet. The next morning, Skaek pulls her coat tighter around herself to stay warm. It's before dawn, and she and Kowrski are in the disused greenhouse behind her apartment building. And inside it is the Opel Olympia that Kowrski stole from a German officer many months ago. The stolen vehicle is far too conspicuous to drive around Budapest, so Kowarski's kept it hidden here. He's sure the Hungarian police have no idea it exists. So now he and Skarbek plan to use it to flee to Belgrade. As Kowrski loads the last of their suitcases into the Opal, their friend Antek appears at the greenhouse doors. He greets Skarbek with air kisses. Then Kowrski bounds over and shakes his hand. Antec, thank you for coming. What's the surveillance like out there? Light. Just two policemen, both watching the front of the building. Good, Good. Antec runs his hand over the Opel's curved, sandy brown body. So this is the car you stole. I thought you just made it up. Only people who have no stories of their own need to lie, my friend. But yes, isn't she a beauty? 4 cylinders, top speed of nearly 100km an hour. Provided we get a head start, the police will never catch us. Kowarski notices Skaek rolling her eyes at them and gets to business. He hands Antek the key to his main car. So I need you to get my Chevrolet and drive it to the front of the apartment. Once there, honk the horn. That will be our signal to go. If anyone questions you, tell them that we asked you to bring the car to us. What should I do with a Chevy once you're gone? Whatever you like. It's your Chevy now. Antec grins. Thanks. And God be with you. Antec hugs Kowrski and Skarbek, then goes to get the Chevy. Skarbek opens the greenhouse doors and joins Kowrski in the Opel. Kowrski starts the engine, filling the greenhouse with the smell of exhaust. Ready to say goodbye to Budapest? Yes. I don't think I can pull the tongue trick twice. At the sound of the Chevrolet's horn, Koweski hits the gas. The Opal speeds out of the greenhouse, then skids on ice as it turns onto the street. Kovirski wrestles with the steering wheel for a moment before regaining control. Then they're off, racing away and leaving their watchers far behind. The following month. Belgrade, Yugoslavia. Outside the hotel Majestik Skarbek uses her umbrella to shield herself and Koweski from the downpour as he loads cans of petrol into the Opal's boot. They arrived in the Yugoslav capital a few weeks back, crossing the border using fake passports supplied by the British. Kowrski now travels under the alias Andrew Kennedy, while Scarbax papers identify her as Christine Granville. But the safety of Belgrade proved illusionary. Germany, Hungary and Italy are preparing to invade. So the two spy lovers are about to follow the British and leave for Bulgaria. Koweski loads the last can of petrol into the car and slams the boot door shut. We should go. The. The Musketeer said there would be a courier. The Musketeers are a Polish resistance group, and Skarbek's been acting as the link between them and British Intelligence for months. But Koworski is in no mood to wait. Their courier should have been here days ago. He may have been caught. He'll be here. You know that. The Z Vuzet don't trust the Musketeers. The Z Vuzet don't trust the British, either. Or us. Skaek doesn't reply. She's too focused on the young man walking towards them. Kowrski eyes the man. Is that him? Maybe. The man walks right up to Scarbeck. He has no umbrella and his hair is sodden from the rain. Christina Scarbeck? Yes. Thank God. I thought I was too late. I'm with the Musketeers. Skaek offers him a cigarette. He takes it and lets Kowrski light it for him. It's enough cover for them all to pretend he's scrounging a cigarette from them. So long as they're quick. Scarbeck looks at the man. You have something for me? The courier passes her a small package of microfilm. She slips it inside her gloves. Then she notices the courier's still standing there. You should go now. Yes, but. Look, I don't know what's on that film, but I've been told to tell you that it's really important. It has to reach the British at any cost. Scarbeck nods. It will. At any cost. Thank you. With that, the courier hurries away, turning up his collar to shield himself from the rain. Skarbek senses that the Musketeers must have uncovered something big this time. She and Kowarski need to get to Bulgaria without delay. The next day, February 1941 the British Legation Sophia, Bulgaria in his office, British Air Attache Aidan Crawley uses a magnifying glass to examine the microfilm Christina Scarbeck gave him. He wasn't sure what to make of the odd couple who turned up at the Legation in a German car. But if this intelligence is for real, it's red hot. The film contains evidence of a massive German military build up at the Soviet border. Images of tanks, Wehrmacht regiments and Panzer divisions. Plus a list of the petrol depots that will supply them. It seems Hitler's about to launch a surprise attack on the ussr. This is huge. If Germany attacks the Soviets, Britain would no longer be fighting the Third Reich alone. But before he sends the intel onto London, he needs to know where it came from. Crawley locks the film in his safe, then heads to the room next door where Scarbeck is waiting. Sorry for the wait. I need to ask some questions first. Who exactly are you? I am an agent for Section D of the Secret Intelligence Service. I was based in Budapest. I have a letter of introduction. Crawley checks the letter. It's from Sir Owen, the British ambassador to Hungary, and seems genuine. But Crawley also knows that Section D no longer exists. It's been absorbed into a new spy agency called the Special Operations Executive. Maybe as an agent in the field, Skarbek hasn't heard. Equally. She could be a double agent, working off outdated information. I see. And from whom did you obtain the film you gave me? I was given it just before leaving Belgrade to come here from a courier for the Musketeers. That the intel came from the Musketeers gives Crawley further pause. The main Polish resistance group, the Z? Vuzet, has warned Britain that the Musketeers have been seen talking to the Germans in Warsaw. The Zet Vu Zette also suspects that the leader of the Musketeers, Stefan Witkowski, is a double agent. There's no proof, but the accusations cast a shadow over any intelligence from the Musketeers and any agent who works with them. Even so, the news that Germany might be about to invade the Soviet Union is too big not to pass on. Crawley stands. Thank you for bringing us this information, Ms. Garbek. It will reach the right people. In the meantime, you should leave immediately for Istanbul. Sofia won't be safe much longer. Bulgaria seems certain to join the Axis any day now, and we're preparing to sever diplomatic relations. And when we get to Istanbul, report to the embassy there and wait for instructions. One month later istanbul, Turkey Inside the Park Hotel, Skarbek's husband, Jerzej Gijicki, strolls down the corridor with a spring in his step. He's carrying a bouquet of flowers and is about to see his wife for the first time in 15 months. He wrote to her in Budapest often, but she never replied. He Feared the worst, but then heard she's resurfaced in Istanbul. He reaches her room, smooths down his hair and knocks on the door. Skarbek opens the door and looks startled at the sight of him. Jerze smiles. My darling, you are as beautiful as ever. How good to see you again. I missed you so. Jerzha pulls Skarbek towards him in a tight embrace and smothers her in kisses. She doesn't resist, but he senses that his affections aren't being reciprocated. He imagines it's the shock of his surprise arrival. He releases her. She stares at him. How did you find me? The British Embassy gave me your address. Well, aren't you going to invite your husband in? Oh, of course. Scarbeck moves aside and Jerze marches into the room. He notices a pair of men's shoes, then the unmade bed and then the blonde, moustached man sitting on the balcony, sipping coffee. Scarbeck positions herself between him and and the man. Jerzej, you remember my childhood friend Anzej Kovarski, don't you? From the balcony, Kowrski gives Jerze an awkward wave, but the fear on his face is clear. Jerze glares at Skarbek. What is going on here? What do you mean? Last time I saw you, you were leaving for Hungary with tears in your eyes at the thought of not being with me. But then you didn't write back to me and now I find you here with. With this. It's not what you think. Do not treat me like a fool. Damn this bloody war. Jerze throws the flowers to the floor, then storms out of the room, muttering. Three months LATER Cairo, Egypt Skaek peers over her sunglasses as Kowarski pulls their Opel car to a stop outside the Grand Continental Hotel. After months of waiting around in Istanbul, the Special Operations Executive told them to head for Cairo. So they've spent the past month following the Mediterranean coastline south through Syria and Palestine. Skaek has put her brief, unhappy reunion with her husband behind her. Her focus now is on rejoining the fight. Ever since they fled Budapest, they've done little besides waiting and running. She steps out of the car and takes in the magnificent hotel on the veranda. Allied servicemen and women drink, dance and flirt. Cairo is now a hub for the Allies in North Africa, but the Axis forces are closing in. Everyone here seems to be imbibing life while they can, before the Third Reich's darkness consumes this city too. A bellboy loads their luggage onto a baggage cart and leads them into the hotel. Hotel. As they wait to check in, an Englishman who was waiting in the lobby puts down his newspaper, approaches and addresses them. By their aliases, Ms. Granville and Mr. Kennedy, the SOE welcomes you to Cairo. Thank you. When will we get orders? You will be contacted when required. Until then, stay out of trouble. Skaek watches the man leave the hotel, then turns to Kowarski. That was odd. I expected. Expected a warm welcome. Don't worry. I'm sure they'll be in touch soon. One MONTH later Skarbek and Koweski are in a secluded villa on the banks of the Nile. They've been in Cairo for weeks, waiting for orders. Now, at last, they've been summoned to the SOE's base of operations in the city. SOE officer Peter Wilkinson leads them into his office and gestures for them to sit. Would you care for some tea? Scarbeck shakes her head. No. I would rather get to business. Do you have a mission for us? We've been waiting weeks. Wilkinson breaks eye contact to look at the file in front of him. I'm afraid there are some complications with that. Scarbeck doesn't like where this is heading. Like what? There have been allegations by Polish intelligence that you are untrustworthy. Skaek is stunned. Kowrski sits up. Untrustworthy? We have risked our lives to get you information. I demand to know where these allegations come from. The Zet Vu Zette has reason to suspect Stefan Vitkovsky and his musketeers. You have a close working relationship with them. Skaek angrily leans forward. The Z Vuzet wants control. If it wasn't for Witkowski, you British would know nothing about what's going on in Poland. Nevertheless, the decision has been made that neither of you can be sent on Polish operations. Which renders you rather useless, I'm afraid. Skarbek is on her feet. How dare you sit behind that desk and say these things? That is my job. The SOE will continue to pay you until the wars end and your service need not end. I'm sure the Polish army could find a use for you. Andrzej. Skarbek folds her arms aggressively. And what about me? The Red Cross needs nurses and secretaries. Nurses and secretaries. Enraged, Skarbek marches out of the villa and into the oppressive heat outside. She came to Cairo to rejoin the war. Instead, she's now an outcast, distrusted by her own side. Before the war, she was caged, trapped in a claustrophobic marriage by her domineering husband. Husband? The war set her free and gave her a new life of adventure. For the first time since she was a child, she felt truly alive. But now the British have clipped her wings and locked her in a new cage. Follow the Spy who on the Audible app or wherever you get your podcasts, you can listen to all episodes of the Spy who and ad free by joining Audible. You have been listening to the Spy who, an Audible original. Have you got a spy story you'd like to tell us? Email your ideas to thespywhoodible.com a quick note about our dialogue we can't know everything that was said or done behind closed doors, particularly far back in history, but our scenes are written using the best available sources, so even if a scene or conversation has been recreated for dramatic effect, it's still based on biographical research. We used various sources in our research for this season, including the Spy who Loved by Claire Mulley and Christine by Madeleine Masson. The Spy who is hosted by me, Indra Varma. The producer was Vespucci with writing and story editing by Yellowant. For Yellowant. The story editor was Judy Cooper, researched by Louise Byrne with thanks to Inebres. The managing producer was Jay Priest for Vespucci. The senior producer was Holly Aquilina. The sound designer was Alex Port Felix. Natalia Rodriguez was the supervising producer. Music supervision by Scott Velasquez for Frisson Sync for Vespucci. The executive producers were Johnny Galvin and Daniel Turkan for Yellowand. The executive producer was Tristan Donovan for Audible. The executive producers were Estelle Doyle and Theodora Luludis.
