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from Audible Originals I'm Indra Varma and this is the spy who in the last episode, Larry Chin became a translator for US Intelligence and used his position to inform on Chinese soldiers who collaborated with America after being captured in the Korean War. Now Qin's in America and about to get a new job with top secret clearance, just as US President Richard Nixon seeks to forge a new alliance with Communist China. You're listening to the spy who outplayed Nixon. This is episode two, a gift for Mr. Li. One month after the polygraph, March 1970 Hong Kong Chin walks into one of the city's bustling tea houses, its walls carefully patterned in red and gold. He slides into a booth opposite O Qi Ming. After a long absence, his spymaster has finally resurfaced. While the two men have a reserved relationship, Chin is overjoyed to see oh again. He's the only person who knows everything about him, the only person who understands Chin's world. It is good to see you again. I was worried. Chin tries not to stare. His spymaster was always slight, but he now looks gaunt, and there is a strained expression in his eyes that wasn't there before. Chin understands they will not talk about what happened. Oh's absence likely means he was taken away for RE education. For anyone surviving that fearsome process, the story is always the same. Afterwards, they want to repress the memory and shame and move on with their lives as briskly as possible. When O speaks, he picks his words with care. My RE education is now complete and I can return to work. Our work. Then I have good news. I am about to start a new job at fbis headquarters in Virginia. I will have higher security clearance and will work alongside CIA officials from Langley. Oh's eyes light up. This is excellent. And the timing is fortunate, too. It seems the Americans want to resume diplomatic relations. Oh pauses to let the thought dangle in the air between them. Chin knows the system well enough to understand that he will never be asked outright for information on America's approach to diplomacy. China prefers its spies to deal in trivialities and play the long game than risk exposure from chasing big. Flashy wins, but he wants to show willing. I'm very trusted at work. I hear a lot. About what? President, please do not take risks. Patience, as always, is the way. But patience can use a sharp eye should anything important happen to cross your path. Oh picks up his tea, his tired eyes suddenly glassy. It is hard to trust imperialists. China has been burnt by opening up to foreigners before. If you hear anything at all, you must let us know. Of course. But I will need a new way to share urgent information. Vancouver is too far away from the east coast for me to travel without someone noticing. We will find you someone in Toronto. I trust that is close enough. Yes, that would work. Good. I'll be in touch. And of course, I shall deposit money in your Hong Kong bank account. Jin watches oh's hand shake as he lifts his teacup. His spymaster's new frailty is a reminder of how swiftly fortunes can change in the world they both inhabit. Even so, it feels good to be back in the spy game. It feels good to be needed in America, Qin is a traitor. In China, he can be a hero. And the money doesn't hurt either. A few months later fbis Headquarters, Roslyn, Virginia Chin enters the office of his boss. Like the rest of his new workplace, it has the scuffed blandness that goes with intelligence work. So does his boss. You wanted to see me, boss? Ah, Larry, Yes. I want you to look over this. Chin tries to remain calm as his boss hands over a document. It's a Presidential review memorandum and stamped top secret. It only takes a cursory scan for Qin to realize that he struck gold. Larry, the President is seeking to improve relations with the People's Republic of China. You have a much better handle on China than most of our people, so I would value your opinion on the approach set out in this memo. You think you can do that? Qin is never backwards in boasting. Yes, I understand Chinese affairs, but also the mentality. I know the society, the bureaucracy. I guess you could say I know how the Chinese think. His boss pauses for a second. Qin worries he's gone too far. Then his boss nods at the document in Qin's hands. In particular, I'd appreciate your views on how you think the Chinese might respond to this approach. The president wants to establish practical and cooperative relations with China. Qin maintains his best poker face as he flicks through the document. It outlines President Nixon Nixon's intentions, terms, and strategies for reaching out to China. It's America's entire game plan, and it would be invaluable to Beijing. Qin looks up at his boss. I'll need some time with it. His boss checks his watch. It's already mid afternoon. Could you give me your thoughts by tomorrow lunchtime? Absolutely. Chin takes the document back to his desk. As the office empties out, Chin stays at his desk. Around 6, Chin's boss finally heads off for the night and the office is silent. Alone at last, Chin moves swiftly. He hides the document under his shirt, puts his suit jacket on and buttons it up. Despite the swampy summer heat outside. He walks out of the office and right past the security guard. That night, Chin's apartment in Alexandria. Pleading that he has to work late, Chin stays up as his wife Kathy heads to bed. Once he is sure she is asleep, he starts to photograph the document. He's had a chance to read it and now knows this could be the biggest coup of his spy career. The document shows the Americans are serious about restoring diplomatic relations with Beijing in order to further isolate the Soviet Union and help the US get out of the Vietnam War. The document also reveals what President Nixon is prepared to give up at the negotiating table. Chin smiles as he raises the camera. The next day fbis Headquarters Rosslyn, Virginia Chin arrives at the fbis office before everyone else and places the document in the locked drawer it should have spent the night in. After handing in his report to his boss, Jin heads out for lunch. He finds a payphone a few blocks away and phones the number in Toronto that his handler oh gave him. The number he is only to use when he needs to share information urgently. Chin waits for the phone to be answered, then uses the codename his contact in Toronto will be expecting. Mr. Lee, it is Mr. Yang here. Yes, I have a gift. I will arrive at the week weekend to give it to you. Code phrases exchanged, Mr. Lee gives chin directions to a strip mall in Toronto that weekend. Toronto, Canada Chin drives off the expressway and into a strip mall car park. Pulse racing, he heads over to the shop. He's been told to wait outside. He pretends to study the window display. Moments later, he hears footsteps behind him. Mr. Yang, what are you doing here? Chin turns to see his contact and with a look of surprised delight, holds out his hand. Mr. Lee, I didn't know you lived nearby. The pair shake hands and in that second, Chin passes Mr. Lee the undeveloped film. His contact casually puts his hand and the film that's now in it into his coat pocket. The exchange is made. By the time Qin returns to Washington D.C. that same day, the documents containing Nixon's game plan for China will be winging their Way to Beijing. A few days later, the headquarters of the Chinese Communist Party in Beijing, Chinese Premier Zhou Enlai walks quickly through the echoing spaces of former imperial palaces and gardens. He enters the building's indoor pool. As he suspected, Chairman Mao Zedong is there, moving through the water with long, powerful strokes. Despite being in his 70s, Chairman Mao still loves to swim. As Mao emerges from the pool, Zhou presents the secret US Documents Chin obtained. Chairman this has just come in from one of our spies in America. It concerns President Nixon's attempts to restore relations. Dripping wet, Mao settles into a chair to read the document. Zhou watches his reactions carefully. He believes it is in China's interests to reboot diplomatic relations with the US yet he knows Mao's position is more complicated. Mao wants the advanced technology that America has. But since the Korean War, he has sought to keep America at a distance. Mao looks up from a cursory scan of the papers. Can we trust this source? Zhou nods. Yes. He joined us even before we took Beijing. Zhou thinks it's a good sign that Mao's so engrossed in the document that he hasn't bothered to get dry. A relationship with America is just the thing to help relaunch China and its leader on the world stage. Mao hands back the document. Very good. This tells us Nixon's very thoughts. And if we know his thoughts, we can beat him in any negotiation. Eighteen months later, February 21, 1972 Air Force One President Richard Nixon stares out the window as it runs rushes over solid banks of cloud. He's traveling with Henry Kissinger and a small entourage. While he projects his typical grumpy exterior, he actually feels anxious. Or is it excitement? After all, he's about to become the first American president to visit the People's Republic of China. There's a lot at stake. Establishing relations with the Chinese will weaken and isolate the Soviet Union. It will also help him negotiate a face saving way to get Ukraine US troops out of Vietnam. His team has been working mostly in secret to make this happen since 1970. But if all goes well, he will deepen the rift between China and the Soviets and reorganize global politics in America's favor. His national Security advisor, Henry Kissinger, looks up from his book. Not long now, Mr. President. Nixon just hopes disagreements over Taiwan won't derail his plan. The People's Republic of China regards it as a breakaway province and hasn't ruled out using force to take the island. Nixon is going to have to navigate that to get what he wants. Kissinger spots him frowning. I hope you're feeling confident, Mr. President, there's a lot riding on this. Taiwan cannot be a deal breaker. We're too close to a genuine breakthrough here. You're perfectly placed to make this happen. Do what you need to do. This is the captain. Mr. President, we are making our approach to Beijing. Later that same day, Beijing in the library of his house, the Chairman of Communist China, Mao Zedong, shakes hands with President Nixon. Both smile for the world's press cameras until Mao waves the they are trying to take over our meeting. I just want to say how honoured I am to visit China and meet with you, Chairman. Your writings have moved a nation and changed the world. Mao smiles, a wicked glint in his eye. Generalissimo Chiang Kai Shek doesn't approve of this meeting. You know he calls us Communist bandits. President Nixon looks uncomfortable that the man who leads Taiwan has come up so soon. Chiang Kai Shek calls the Chairman a bandit. So what does the Chairman call Chiang Kai Shek? Mao eyes Nixon carefully. He had initially dismissed the American President's overtures of diplomatic friendliness as a ruse. After all, it was less than 20 years ago that they were at war in Korea, and they are currently indirect opponents in the Vietnam War. Well, Chang and I, we abuse each other. There is an awkward silence as Mao begins to feel the pain coming back all over his body. He's now in his late 70s and he's very ill. He's been heavily dosed up on painkillers to take this meeting. It's a meeting that he knows many in his own party are against. They will look for any opportunity to show that Mao is giving in to the imperialist enemy. But what they don't know is that he's entering these talks forearmed, all thanks to the Chinese spy in America who stole Nixon's game plan. Three days later Great hall of the People Beijing Chinese Premier Zhou Enlai is now deep in negotiations with President Nixon. With the photo opportunities done, Mao has retreated, leaving Zhou to extract a good deal for China. And thanks to Larry Chin's intel, Zhou knows Nixon is willing to offer a lot to draw China closer. And Zhou's out to get those concessions. Taiwan is the crucial question between our two countries. If one has profound understanding, one can see that there is common ground towards this question. But if one looks at it in a general or a superficial way, one may not see that common ground. Nixon responds with a careful, rehearsed reply. My goal is normalization with the People's Republic. I realize that solving the Taiwan problem is indispensable to achieving that goal as Vietnam is concluded, as it will be concluded in one way or another, the removal of two thirds of our forces on Taiwan will be done. Zhou nods but says nothing. The empty seconds stretch outwards. He calmly holds the US President's stare until he says more. There will be opposition, but it will be done. Joe risks further silence, emboldened by the material China's spy has provided. It's also clear that Nixon finds silence awkward and feels compelled to fill it. Joe holds his stare. He knows he can get more. The seconds stretch out. Nixon's expression falters. A hint of uncertainty, even panic, creeps into his eyes. And I can also move to reduce our other forces. The other one third. I can do that. As our relationship develops. Jo smiles. It turns out poker is easy when you know your enemy's cards. Three days later. The Jinjung Hotel, Shanghai. In a large function room, the Chinese Premier Zhou Enlai signs the Shanghai communique, the document he and President Nixon have spent the past few days negotiating. Signature done. He. He makes way for Nixon to sign it too. Just here, Mr. President. Behind his impassive face, Joe feels victorious. This is the first diplomatic agreement between the two countries since the Communists took power in 1949, and China's succeeded in almost all of its negotiating targets. The US has promised it will eventually pull almost all of its soldiers from Taiwan. In return, Joe has given little more than a few assurances that China will support peace in Vietnam. These are wins he might not have secured without the help of the undercover Chinese agent embedded in the CIA. Joe knows if the Americans ever discover what this agent has done, it will go all out to hunt him. Four years later Las Vegas Larry Chin's eyes wander to the whirling fruit of the slot machines as he enters one of his favorite casinos. He heads to the cashier's desk reserved for VIPs and big spenders. The cashier smiles on seeing him. Good to see you again so soon, Mr. Chin. Chin's always enjoyed gambling, but his fast growing habit isn't just for fun. He uses it to launder and explain the money his Chinese spymasters pay into his secret Hong Kong bank account. How many chips would you like today? I'm feeling lucky. How about $5,000? Put it on my tab. Chin takes his chips to the private blackjack tables. The Concierge swoops in. Mr. Chin, always a pleasure. How are the kids? Medical school, isn't it? They're making me proud, but they're also costing me money. Well, I wish you luck tonight. A complimentary drink, perhaps? Your usual? Jin nods and begins to play. He quickly starts to lose money, but he doesn't mind. He's having fun, and a few recorded losses help make the money he's about to walk away with look more legitimate. And that's 21. After losing $2,000, he returns to the cashier and hands over the remaining three $3,000 worth of chips. Shall I put them against your tab? No, I'll take it in cash. Invoice my Hong Kong account for the tab. Jin smiles as the cashier counts out the cash. He can now claim the money as gambling winnings, even though it came straight from his secret bank account in Hong Kong. And now he's laundered his spy earnings. He plans to invest some of the money in buying properties to rent around the US the only problem is that he's finding it harder and harder to leave the gambling tables early. Three years later 1979 CIA Headquarters Langley, Virginia In a small conference room, Chin is finishing up a meeting with intelligence officers from the CIA's China desk. As one of the CIA's best translators, he's often called in to offer his advice. He may be a spy and a traitor, but he still enjoys the feeling of being needed. As the meeting ends, Warren Young, a slim and energetic intelligence officer with Chinese heritage, approaches Chin. Larry, you got a couple of minutes? Of course. Could you check a message I'm sending to an agent in China? It's important I make a good first impression. Qin keeps his face neutral. Another opportunity to please Beijing has fallen right into his lap. He'd kill for this kind of luck at the blackjack table. Of course, I'll need to know a few things about who the message is going to. What kind of things? Just the basics. Age? Male or female? Where in China they're from? Education level? These are legitimate questions for a translator. They're also a way for Qin to to glean information that can help China's Ministry of Public security identify the CIA's agent. Qin read through the message numerous times to memorize it and all the details Young has unwittingly revealed about the agent after he has finished. Yung is grateful. I might consult you about more cultural stuff in the next few weeks, if that's okay. I'm heading to Beijing soon. It's a big posting, and I don't want to make any etiquette mistakes. Of course. Anytime. Two years later July 1981 FBIS Headquarters, Roslyn, Virginia In a large meeting room that's been transformed for an Awards Ceremony With a makeshift stage, Chin steps forward to shake hands with Bobby Inman, the Deputy Director of the CIA. Pride, relief and sadness entwine within him as he accepts his Career Intelligence Medal. After years of service, and with his 59th birthday imminent, Chin is being forced to retire due to his age. Mr. Chin, I'm sorry the Director couldn't be here today, but leave with the knowledge that your faithful and loyal support has measured up to the high ideals and traditions of the Federal State Service. As the applause dies down and people start mingling, Chin looks at his medal. He tries to understand the muddle of emotions he's feeling. Pride at a job well done. Relief that he ended his career without his spying being uncovered. Melancholy that he's being cut adrift and will no longer be surrounded by the friendly chatter he's grown accustomed to. He also wonders what next. He's not yet 60. There's a lot of life yet to fill. A colleague nudges him. You've got your best years ahead of you, Larry. I hope so. Chin looks at the former colleagues all around him and realizes something. He has no idea what to do now. His outgoings far exceed his CIA pension. His landlord earnings from properties in Baltimore and Las Vegas won't close the gap. And now he no longer has access to classified information. Information he's about to lose his spy income, too. The medal glints in his hand as it catches the light. Ching wonders, does he actually need to tell Beijing he's retired? He grabs a drink from a nearby table and ponders whether he's got a few big gambles left in him. Winter 1981 A few months after Larry Chin's retirement, the Ministry of Public Security, Beijing intelligence officer Wu Chang enters the office of his boss, Ms. Wong. Wu sits sullenly, showing as much disrespect as he dares. Ms. Wong is an attractive woman and Wu the adopted son of the head of China's intelligence service. But one night, Wu made the error of thinking that his family ties trumped the hierarchy. He moved within and propositioned her. Ms. Wong rejected him in the most scathing terms. Now he can never think of her without feeling shame and humiliation. Without meeting Hu's gaze, Ms. Wong hands over a file the US has posted someone new to its embassy. His name's Warren Young. We know he is CIA, but he has Chinese heritage. We may be able to use that as leverage, get close and recruit him for a For us. Ou frowns as he scans the file. How do we know he's CIA? That's not for you to know. Oo senses Ms. Wong is enjoying holding information back. It's clear she thinks he only got this job out of nepotism. He wonders if she's setting him up to fail. He leaves, angry and worried, but he dares not slam the door behind him. Early 1982 the back street of Beijing. CIA officer Warren Young walks down a narrow alleyway, using it as both a detour and a way to flush out any Chinese surveillance he's picked up since leaving the US Embassy. Despite his Chinese heritage, his clothes and manner mark him out as a Westerner. It feels like everybody in Beijing is watching him. Not that China's intelligence services always opt for subtlety. Sometimes those watching him make no attempt to hide the fact that they are following him. He heads down another alleyway. Today he's determined to ensure he hasn't been followed, for he's about to meet with a Chinese government official called Wu Changshong. Yang suspects Wu is actually a Chinese intelligence officer who suspects he's with the CIA. For months they have been meeting on the diplomatic cocktail service circuit just a shade too often and having odd, stilted conversations. Then Oo asked if they could meet somewhere more private. Yang wants to see where this could lead. Reassured that he's not being tailed, Yang reaches their meeting place. It's a traditional tea house, a little dingy but comfortable. He notes that Oo has secured a table where his back is against the wall. From there, he he will be able to watch the rest of the room and ensure they cannot easily be overheard. Mr. Young, so glad to see you. They make small talk for a while. Then Young senses Yu starting to grow nervous. He's ready to ask the question he's clearly been waiting to ask. Mr. Young, I wondered, to put it bluntly, if you'd be willing to help China while you are here. Blood pounds in Yung's ears. It's the moment every intelligence agent trains for. But it's suddenly here. It's suddenly real. He tries to seem calm, almost amused. You want me to spy? Oo sits forward. The slight tremble of his hands betrays his nervousness. No, no, Mr. Young. Nothing like that. I don't want you to do anything that would hurt the U.S. don't you read the papers? This is a bold new era for our countries. I want you to help foster better relations between us. I'd love you to pass us anything that might. Young senses that something is slightly off about Oo, but what? Anything that might help us to understand one another better. You would Be well compensated. Hu sits back and waits for an answer. Young knows this is a dangerous moment. The offer could be a trap to expose him as an American spy. Protocol is to end the conversation there and walk away. But what Young registered about Oo a moment ago has come into focus beneath the nerves. Oo's tone is half hearted. Slumped in his chair, his body language suggests defeat as much as watchfulness. It was a rushed pitch, a little basic. Young stirs his tea to give himself more time to think. He's surprised that ooze mentioned compensation already. Maybe money's an issue. Close to Oo's heart. Yang ponders the man in front of him. Every time he's met Ou, there's been something only loosely contained within him, some kind of angry grudge at the world around him. He wouldn't be the first Chinese spy who's been wronged in the endless purges and re education. Is it possible that wu's loyalty is compromised? With his heart in his mouth, Yang takes a risk. America shares your desire for good relations, but perhaps we could achieve these objectives better. If the information ran from China to the us we too would be prepared to compensate well for such efforts. Young tenses for angry denials, but instead Oo does nothing. Young decides he may as well plow on. I believe you are a senior intelligence officer. You must be to be able to meet an American alone like this. What is your rank? Young's just upped the stakes. They're no longer just chatting. He's made a direct request for actual information. Ou leans forward slightly. Does your offer include resettlement? Yung's heart leaps. Ou wants to move to America. Yeung leans towards oo. You would have to earn that. We would need to be sure of high quality information. Ou takes a long sip of tea, then answers Yung's question. I am the chief of the Foreign Affairs Affairs Bureau at the Ministry of Public Security. Young blinks in disbelief. He's just recruited an agent who can prize open the deepest secrets of Chinese intelligence. A few days later, a restaurant in Beijing. In a restaurant favored by the most powerful members of the Politburo, a banquet is being served. In pride of place is Larry Qin. He feels calm and quietly pleased with himself. Since he's no longer a government employee in the us A trip to Beijing is low risk, but he's decided to keep his retirement to himself. If China thinks he's still capable of passing them information, they'll still be capable of passing him checks. Next to Qin is his spymaster. Oh, who points out the various leading members of the Chinese intelligence service. They have all come to honor Qin. See how the great and the good have turned out to honor you and your work. That man over there is Li Wenchong, Vice Minister of Chinese Intelligence. He is here for you. I can't quite believe it. While Qin watches, Li stands and raises a glass. The crowd grows silent. You honour us with your dedicated service, Comrade Chin. For more than three decades, you have aided the Party in navigating a hostile landscape. We would like to honor you with a new rank. Deputy Bureau Chief in the United States. After the applause, O whispers in Chin's ear. The rank is honorary, of course, but There is also $40,000 in your bank account. A thank you. Thank you for the intelligence provided and for the intelligence you will provide in the future. Qin smiles and thanks him. He's come to terms with who he is now. He's a spy and a traitor, and in China at least, a hero. But deep down, he's a gambler. And to keep the money coming, he's going to keep placing Betsy. Several days later, Beijing CIA officer Warren Young arrives at the safe house Wu has organized in the back streets of Beijing. He breathes a sigh of relief as he enters. It took an age to get here, mainly because he had to give his own CIA counterintelligence officers the slip before coming here. But it's all for show. Hu has told his bosses that he recruited Yang as an agent to enable them to continue meeting. So Yang must make it look like he's betraying the CIA. It also means he must come to each meeting armed with worthless but credible intelligence. For Ou. But today, Oo looks frustrated. What's wrong? I'm tired of all this back and forth. I've given you a lot of information now, and you promised me resettlement. Yang has seen wu's impatience building, so his agitation comes as no surprise. Oo continues to vent. I am not as popular as I could be in my department. I just want to get out of here before I'm discovered. Young watches as Oo paces and then suddenly stops. I want to go to America. I've honoured my part of the bargain. Haven't I done that? Young nods curtly. He must remain diplomatic but firm. Look, I want to help, but you need to give us more. If you give us something really useful, something we can act on, I'll be able to convince my superiors. Yang watches Oo, whose face suggests he's grappling with a decision. Eventually, Wu speaks. What if I told you there is a Chinese agent inside your intelligence services. That would be extremely valuable, but I'll need more details, starting with a name. I don't have his name. I happen to overhear a conversation. I was lucky to get that much. That information's too vague. I know what my superiors will say. There will be no question of resettlement until we have enough details to track down the mole. But if you lead us to him, you will have more than earned your ticket out. OO nods silently to confirm that he understands the task ahead of him. Yang knows he's asking OO to risk his life to get this information, but if there really is a Chinese spy embedded inside US Intelligence, this could be America's only shot at exposing him. You have been listening to the Spy who, an Audible original. Have you got a spy story you'd like us to tell? Email your ideas to the spy who@audible.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. The CIA officer identified in the script as Warren Young is a pseudonym. We used many sources in our research for this season, including the Spy within by Todd Hoffman and Chinese Spies by Roger Faligo. The Spy who is hosted by me, Indra Varma. The producer was Vespucci with writing and story editing by Yellowant. For Yellowant, the writer was Christian Donlon, researched by Louise Byrne with thanks to Monte Cooper and Gigi Core. The managing producer was Jay Priest. For Vespucci, the senior producer was Holly Aquilina. The sound designer was Alex Port. Felix Natalia Rodriguez is the supervising producer. Music supervision by Scott Velasquez for Frisson Sink For Vespucci, the executive producers were Johnny Galvin and Daniel Turkan. For Yellowant, the executive producer was Tristan Donovan. For Audible, the executive producers were Estelle Doyle and Theodora Leludis. Follow the Spy who on the Audible app or wherever you get your podcasts. You can listen to all episodes of the Spy who ad free by joining Audible.