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This episode includes references to suicide. Please be advised. Summer 1982 the Ministry of Public Security, Beijing it's late and Chinese intelligence officer turned CIA agent Hu Changshong is the last person in the office. And that gives him the opportunity he's been waiting for. He moves purposefully to the desk of his boss, Ms. Wong. The CIA will only exfiltrate him from China if he finds out more about the Chinese spy working within US Intelligence. Information about that spy is a closely guarded secret, but Ms. Wong is one of those in the know. He feels the electric buzz of adrenaline as he approaches her desk. He listens out for anyone nearby while also memorizing the position of the papers on her desk. Then starts searching them for clues. But he finds nothing useful. Dammit. On impulse, he tries her desk drawer. To his surprise, it's not locked. He smirks at the security lapse by his uptight boss. He pulls the drawer out carefully and his heart leaps as he sees a folder used for operational details. The folder doesn't give a name, but it does reveal the agent's code number. The spy's handler listed is O Qi Ming, one of the Ministry's most experienced intelligence officers. He sifts through the folder and stops at a recent report. A few months ago, the agent came to Beijing to attend a lavish banquet where he was given a medal for his service by the Deputy Minister himself. Wu turns the page and smiles. The report includes the dates of the agent's inbound and outbound flights. Wu replaces the file exactly as it was and closes the drawer. He tingles with elation. Surely what he's learnt tonight will be enough for the CIA to identify China's spy. And if it is, then he's just secured his one way ticket to America. Audible subscribers can listen to all episodes of the Spy who Ad free right now. Join Audible today by downloading the Audible app from Audible Originals. I'm Indra Varma and this is the Spy who In the last episode, Chinese spy Larry Qin smuggled out President Richard Nixon's negotiating plan allowing China to extract maximum concessions from the us. But now the CIA have recruited Yu Changshong, their own mole inside Chinese intelligence, and they're pushing him to find out the identity of China's agent. You're listening to the Spy who Outplayed Nixon. This is episode three, the Gamble. September 1982. The FBI Field Office, Washington D.C. special Agent Tom Carson is at his desk in the bullpen sifting through phone records. It's the kind of mind numbing task that is part and parcel of his work as a counterintelligence agent. Tom, you got a minute? Carson jumps in shock. He was so zoned out he hadn't noticed his boss standing next to him. Sure. They go into a secure meeting room where his boss hands Carson a sheet of paper with a CIA letterhead on it. The CIA has learned that we've got a Chinese spy buried somewhere in the intelligence services and he's been there for years. Carson reads the document carefully, then hands it back. No. You don't know what I was gonna ask. Yeah, I do. And I don't want it. It's got nightmare written all over it. It could make your career, Tom. Catching a high profile enemy spy. Carson lifts an eyebrow. Oh yeah. He grabs the piece of paper back and reads aloud Chinese mail. Meets with his handler in Hong Kong and flew to Beijing on February 6 with Pan Am from New York and returned on the 27th. That's it? That's all we've got to go on? Afraid so. And where did the CIA get this information from? They won't tell us. How come they're so sure this spy isn't one of theirs? They did a very thorough investigation, apparently. Can I see their investigation report? No. And let me guess. This is from a secret squirrel, which means I can't question anyone because it'll endanger the source. Am I right? That is right. And everyone from the President down wants weekly updates, no doubt offering lots of advice along the way. Correct. Carson hands the CIA's report back. No, thank you. Alright, alright. It's a nightmare case. But that's why I need you on it, Tom. You're methodical, you're steady, you're focused and you don't give up easy. Do I have any choice? No. But I'll let you pick your own team. Carson scrunches up his face in frustration, snatches up the CIA document and heads for the door. His boss calls after him. I'll buy you a beer tonight. Carson looks at him in disbelief from the doorway. One beer. You owe me the biggest stinking hangover going. The following month, the FBI field office in Washington. Special Agent Tom Carson speaking. Do you want the good news, the bad news, or the ugly news? Carson recognizes the voice. It's T. Van Majors from the FBI office in New York. Van Majors has been hunting Chinese spies at the United nations for years, and he's now part of Carson's investigative team. The first task Carson gave him was to check the manifests of the flights between New York and Beijing on the dates they the CIA provided. Give me the good news first. I need some There was an inbound flight from Beijing on the 27th of February. Bad news is it wasn't Pan Am. It was CAAC. CAAC is the Chinese state carrier, and that means it will be impossible to get hold of the passenger list without alerting the Chinese authorities. Carson thinks rapidly. What about customs records? Each passenger would have to complete one, wouldn't they? True. I'll put in a request. So are you ready for the ugly news now? Hit me. There were no flights from New York to Beijing on February 6th. Carson frowns and rechecks the notes from the CIA. None at all? Nope. Do we know where the information came from? Could they have got it wrong? Your guess is as good as mine, T and we can't question them. Carson hangs up and sighs. He knew he shouldn't have touched this case. December 1982 Hong Kong in a backstreet restaurant, Chin is meeting his handler, oh. He makes small talk as they wait for their food, but inside he's nervous. Since retiring from the CIA, Chin's had no access to American secrets to share with his spymaster. He stayed in touch with former colleagues and tried to get them to gossip about work, without success. But Qin's not ready to forgo his spying pay, so he's come up with a new ruse to ensure China keeps topping up his secret Hong Kong bank account. As they eat, Chin puts his plan into action. I have some good news. I've taken a contract as a translator for the National Security Agency. Oh's eyes light up. The NSA is America's signals intelligence agency. It intercepts and decrypts electronic communications while also working to stop others from doing the same to the US Defence and intelligence agencies. It's so secretive that people joke its initials stand for no Such Agency. That sounds very useful. Your work continues to impress. What have you learned? Chin plays for time as he lifts the bamboo lid off some steaming soup dumplings. He's just told a lie to his spymaster. He doesn't have a job at the nsa, and now he's told that lie. He must now back up his fiction with information if he wants to get paid. But Chin does have a source of information about the nsa. A new book called the Puzzle palace that's available in bookstores across America. It reveals the inner workings of the NSA in incredible detail, details that Chin will now pretend he obtained from first hand experience of working at the nsa. The security measures they use for getting in and out of various parts of the buildings are very detailed and the organizational chart is complicated. Chin slides a piece of paper over to oh. It details both the security measures and the organizational chart that he learned from the book. Oh smiles as he swiftly slides it into a pocket. Well done on getting such a prestigious job. Chin feels relief that his handler seems to have bought his lie. He decides to push his luck even further. I also need a favor. My marriage with Cathy is not going well. I want to divorce her and marry my mistress, but to do that, I need $150,000 to pay Cathy off. Oh carefully bites into a soup dumpling and lets the steam escape. Finally, he nods at Chin. I will see what I can do. Chin feels lighter. Not only has his bluff worked, but his marital problems could be solved, too. A few weeks later, January 1983 the FBI field office in Washington, D.C. special Agent Tom Carson rubs his tired eyes. On his desk are box files full of transcripts of phone calls that the FBI wiretapped. Calls that were made either to or from the Chinese Embassy in Washington. After discovering there was no flight to Beijing on February 6, his spy hunt hit the skids. The CIA failed to provide more details about the suspected spy, so Carson is now going through all the FBI surveillance records of China's diplomatic missions. His hope is to spot something that will help resuscitate the case. He picks up another transcript, leans back, and puts his feet on his desk as he reads. But in the next minute, he sweeps his feet back onto the ground. Holy smoke. The transcript is of a call made by a Chinese official from JFK Airport in New York on February 5, the day before the spy supposedly flew to Beijing. But in the transcript, the official is explaining that his flight to Beijing has been delayed by five hours because of a snowstorm. Carson snatches up his phone and calls his colleague, T. Van Majors in New York. Van Majors here. It's Carson. Listen, do you have a list of flights to Beijing that left JFK on February 5th? Think so. Give me two seconds. Carson tries not to get his hopes up as Van Majors digs out the list. Yeah, there was a CAAC flight scheduled for 11pm it was delayed by five hours because of a snowstorm, so it didn't leave till the 6th. Our missing flight? Yeah, so the information is correct. Did you go through the customs forms from the incoming flight on the 27th? Was there anyone who might fit the profile? Well, there were four US Citizens, but only one from the DC Area. Guy called Larry Chin. Has he got any kind of security clearance? I'll run a search now. Might take a While right now I have nothing better to do. Trust me. Carson waits on the phone and listens as Van Majors taps the name into the FBI's new electronic central record system. The system lists every file held by the Bureau along with a summary of what's in the paper record. Carson grins as he hears Van Majors exclaim and run back to the phone. You got him. Larry Chin was given top secret security clearance in 1970. A few days later, CIA Headquarters Langley, Virginia Carson and his boss are in a meeting room within the CIA's headquarters, ready to share their breakthrough in the spy case. Carson takes the lead. We have a name for our chief suspect link Larry Chinn. The CIA team look at each other, their body language now suddenly guarded. Carson smells a cover up forming and cuts to the chase. Is he yours? No. Carson narrows his eyes. Was he ever yours? The CIA team's most senior officer grimaces. Yes. Since when? At FBIs headquarters, since 1970. Before that at Santa Rosa, California. But he retired two years ago. The CIA man watches Carson scribbling notes. What are you going to do? I'm going to arrest him. Do you need to? He no longer works with the CIA, so he's no longer a security threat. Carson leans back in his chair slowly. Are you telling me that one of your employees sells US secrets to a foreign enemy power and you think he should get away with it? Any action you take could endanger our source inside China. Our source is worth far more than someone who is no longer a problem. Carson's FBI boss interjects. Look, we appreciate the sensitivities. We won't arrest him until you give us the all clear. But we have to be ready to arrest when that day comes. Since Chin is retired, it'll be tricky to catch him in the act. Perhaps you could offer him a short term contract job and we put surveillance on him. No, that's out of the question. Carson struggles to contain his anger. If we want to stop spies, we need to punish them, not give them a pension and a pat on the back. The CIA man shakes his head. We're not about to put a retired spy inside our organization just so you can arrest him. It's too risky for our source. Carson and his boss leave, simmering with anger. They will put Chin under surveillance, but given that he no longer has access to any secrets they both know, it's unlikely they'll catch him spying. Chin might be about to get away with it. Almost three years later October 1985 A safe house in Beijing. Chinese intelligence officer Yu Changshong Feels exhausted. He's been living on his nerves for years as he handed over as many secrets as he could to the CIA. But today, his handler, Warren Young, has good news for him. Hu, I've just been notified. My tour in China is about to end. It's time to get you out finally. How will you do it? Hong Kong is the only place we can exfiltrate you from. Can you get there on your own without raising suspicion? Who thinks about this? Movement of any official is tightly restricted and monitored inside Communist China. I have holiday leave accrued and family in Hong Kong. I will ask permission to visit them. It would be hard for such a request to be refused. Good. Keep it as simple and normal as possible. Remember, don't pack anything you wouldn't take for a short holiday. No mementos, no family photos, nothing that suggests you won't return. Young unfolds a street map of Hong Kong onto the table. You need to commit all these details to memory. When you arrive in Hong Kong, you will head to the guest house here and eat dinner at the restaurant round the corner here. This will be your signal to us that you are safe. Ou nods approvingly. Hong Kong is infested with Chinese spies. If he is seen meeting anyone other than his family, it would immediately raise suspicion. Yang hands Oo a card for a Hong Kong taxi company the following morning. Use this taxi firm to take you to Kai Tak airport. Once there, head to the check in desks near the VIP rooms. Approach only the desk that is closest to the shops. They will give you what you need. Oo spend some time committing phone numbers, names and addresses to memory. When he's satisfied he has done so, he shakes Young's hand energetically. Thank you. I can't believe it's finally happening. You've more than earned it. Good luck. I'll see you on the other side. A few days later. Oo's home, Beijing Oo sits at his kitchen table, smoking in his bedroom. A small suitcase is on the bed, packed for his trip to Hong Kong. Now he is sifting through photos and letters and sorting them into two piles. One pile for those who are dead and the other for those still alive. Everyone close to him will face the state's wrath once his betrayal is discovered. But he will do what he can to protect them. He takes the pile of photos of his living relatives and friends and shoves them into his small coal burning stove. His eyes fill with tears as their faces melt into the flames. He wonders if any of them will understand his decision or Forgive him for it. The next day Hong Kong BORDER Oo shuffles forward in the slow moving queue at border control. He is sweating in his suit from humidity and nerves. The Chinese border guards are known to demand bribes. The smallest anomaly in the paperwork is often enough to be detained and questioned until a payment is made. His status as a senior official in the Ministry of Public Security won't help him here. The Ministry forbids its officers from taking their identification card outside of China. Wu steps up to the border guard. The guard checks each line of his paperwork. Finding nothing amiss, he sourly stamps it and waves Wu through. Barely breathing, Wu walks casually across the no man's land that separates China from the British colony of Hong Kong. It's not easy. He seems to have pins and needles running up and down his legs. It takes all his willpower not to look back. He imagines the Chinese authorities will come racing after him any moment. He hands over his passport to the Hong Kong immigration official who peers from his photo to him. How long are you staying in Hong Kong? 14 days. And what's the purpose of your stay? Visiting family. The official nods, stamps his passport and Oo steps into the British Crown Colony of Hong Kong. Relief surges. Stage one of his escape is complete. The loud thrumming of the diesel engines, the fishy smell of the harbor and the dense humidity all churn his stomach as he catches the ferry from the border to the Hong Kong mainland. He navigates the bustling streets of Kowloon to the guest house and then heads to the designated restaurant for dinner, resisting the urge to look at the other diners. Oo reads a book as he eats, knowing at least one of them must be a CIA agent, cheers him. He is no longer alone, but he struggles to sleep that night. His dreams filled with visions of Chinese intelligence officers dragging him back to China. The morning dawns, hot and steamy. Yu calls the taxi company to take him to Kai Tuk airport. The taxi driver avoids all eye contact. Wu wonders if he's a Chinese agent who has infiltrated his escape plan. By the time he arrives at the airport, where its low flying planes thunder and vibrate everything around them, he is ready to throw up. He grips his suitcase and searches for the correct check in desk. This is the last hurdle. If he is spotted by the Chinese spies at the airport a day after arriving in Hong Kong, they could still make an attempt to stop his escape. There is no one else at the check in desk. The clerk smiles brightly as she takes his passport. Good morning sir. How are we today? Well, thank you. She takes his passport, checks it, but then starts typing details on her computer without referring to it. Once finished, she hands his passport back, along with an envelope and another bright smile. Enjoy your flight today, sir. You'll be leaving from Gate 4 in 15 minutes. He nods and opens the envelope. Inside is a plane ticket and a gleaming new American passport. Thirty minutes later, he watches Hong Kong disappear beneath the clouds and finally feels safe. Later that day, the FBI field office in Washington, D.C. in a secure meeting room, FBI Special Agent Tom Carson gloomily reviews what three years of surveillance of Larry Chin has delivered. We know he has a gambling habit, a collapsing marriage, a mistress, and he likes kinky sex toys. But when it comes to hard proof of spying. We got Jack. The CIA have just sent word they have exfiltrated their source from China and given the FBI the go ahead to arrest Chin. But despite placing Chin under constant surveillance, they still don't have a strong case against him. Carson's boss looks around at the downbeat faces in the room. Come on, boys, what do we have? Flights in and out of Beijing on a carrier that CIA personnel are not allowed to use, a banquet held in his honor there, the name of his handler, and the fact they meet in Hong Kong. And that Qin asked his handler for money to help fund his divorce. What else? Don't forget our trump card. The hotel room number where he stayed in Beijing. Carson is bitter that even a covert search of Qin's luggage before one of his trips to Hong Kong netted nothing other than a hotel room key from Beijing that he forgot to hand in. Okay, so we need to get him to confess with these few details. We need to make it look as if we know everything. Now, Tom, I know this is hard on you, but I don't think you're the man for this one. It's gut wrenching, but Carson knows his boss is right. He's too close to the case and too direct in his interrogation style. He reluctantly hands over the task of drawing Chin into a confession to his colleagues, Mark Johnson and Rudy Garin. His boss gives Carson a sympathetic glance before moving on. The CIA say we have up to three weeks before Chinese intelligence will realize what's happened. Once they do, they are likely to warn Chin and tell him to flee. So, Carson, you need to brief Rudy on the details. I want mock interviews done as well. We get one bite at this and one bite only. The team file out of the room in a grim, determined mood. If Chin refuses to talk or consults a lawyer during the interview, they all know he is likely to walk free. November 22, 1985 Watergate apartment complex Washington, D.C. larry Chin walks to the door slowly. At 63 years old, his tall frame is now a little bent and his hair is thinning. He assumes it must be a neighbor. He moved out of the family home two years ago, but only recently moved into this position. Not many of his friends have the address. Chin opens the door and sees two men in suits and ties. They flip open FBI identity cards. Mr. Chin, I'm Special Agent Rudi Guerin with the FBI, and this is my colleague Mark Johnson. We're investigating a leak of classified information to Chinese intelligence. We hoped you could help us. Qin is surprised but not alarmed. He retired from the CIA years ago, so assumes the agents have come to consult him about translation or cultural guidance. Certainly he wonders if he will learn something useful for his Chinese handler. He ushers them to his dining room table. Chin sits at the head of the table. The agents sit on either side of him. Johnson pulls out a thick file and places it on the table, along with a notebook and pencil. Garin then begins. Mr. Chin, the leaks we are investigating occurred in the 1970s and 1980s. Oh, that's when I was active in the CIA. That's correct. You see, Mr. Chin, you're the person we're investigating. Rudi Garin scrutinizes Chin's face and body posture as he responds to the accusation. Really? Garin knows if Qin tells them to leave, they are done for. But he also needs to capitalize on the element of surprise. Yes, really. We believe you committed espionage. Qin's eyes give away nothing but mild curiosity. What is it you think I did? Have you ever had any contact with members of China's intelligence services, Mr. Qin? No. Johnson opens his thick file and reads off of the first page. On February 6, 1982, you traveled to Beijing and returned to the United states on the 27th of that month aboard CAAC Flight 983. While you were in Beijing, a banquet was held in your honor. It was attended by members of China's intelligence service, and you were presented with an award for your services. There is a twitch at the corner of Qin's eye. Where did you get that information, Mr. Qin? I'm not going to reveal my sources. Do you deny this happened? I'm not denying anything. You worked for America's intelligence services. Why was China giving you an award? Because I am their friend. Garin's heart leaps as he thinks he scored an admission, but he quickly realizes it's too Cryptic. He slides a photograph across the table. Mr. Chin, do you know this man? Qin stares at the photo carefully. I don't think so. He is Li Wenchong, and he is the Vice Minister of Chinese Intelligence. He hosted the banquet held in your honor. And it was he who gave you your award. Are you serious? Garin has to credit Qin's coolness under pressure. He nods at Johnson, who continues reading from his file. You travelled to Beijing on June 1st in 1983 and stayed at Tianmen Hotel, room 533. Tell me, what concrete evidence do you have? Garin wonders if they've lost. Chin doesn't seem worried, and they are almost out of cards to play. We aren't going to do it that way, Mr. Chin. We've given you an idea of the evidence we have. How do I know you aren't bluffing? Chin eyes the FBI agents, looking for any telltale signs of stress or tension, just as he does with his opponents at the casino card tables. The agents are being evasive. But on the other hand, how could they know about his banquet or the room he stayed in unless they had him under surveillance? Either that or they have a mole inside Chinese Intelligence. Garin is watching him. Their eyes lock. Mr. Qin, we also know about your marriage problems, about your affairs, and how you want to divorce your wife. But you need Chinese intelligence to fund it for you. It's a gut punch he wasn't expecting. OH is the only person Chin told about this. Oh must have defected to the Americans. Johnson takes a piece of printed card from his file and slides it across the desk to Qin. On it, printed in both English and Chinese characters, is the name oh Qi Ming. Garin raises an eyebrow at him. Do you know this gentleman, Mr. Chin? Chin is beginning to panic. If oh has defected, then he is lost, and no amount of bluffing will get him out of it. Maybe I should consult a lawyer. Garin feels his stomach drop. If Chin stops talking now, their case will go up in smoke. He still needs to find a way to convince him to confess rather than consult a lawyer. Mr. Chin, if you want an attorney, that is your right. If you want us to leave, you can ask us to do so at any time. But this is your only chance to tell us your side of the story. Because when we leave, we're going straight to the Department of Justice to ask that the book is thrown at you. Chin eyes him warily. Undecided, Garin presses home his advantage and hopes that Chin doesn't call his bluff. And since we don't know how deep this goes. We have agents outside the houses of your two and your daughter waiting to interrogate them. Chin feels a second gut punch. He looks past the agents to the photos of his adult children on his bookshelf. His son with a medical degree. His daughter married and now pregnant. His youngest at Stanford University. He's so proud of them, he cannot bear the idea of them facing an interrogation or having neighbours gossip about them. Why would you do that? They don't even speak Mandarin fluently. Because it is my job to get to the bottom of this. We have had plenty of spy rings that have involved whole families. They know nothing. Mr. Qin, I have no reason to believe a word you say. Chin feels the agony of indecision. He knows he should call a lawyer, but he needs to protect his children. If I agree to talk, will you leave my children alone? You have to tell me everything. And if the kids aren't involved? Then we won't have to question them. Chin feels light headed. He can't think properly. May I make some tea first? Garin keeps his face bland. As Chin makes tea, he can almost taste the arrest. But any mistimed word or look could derail it. He waits as Chin pours a cup of green tea and takes a sip. I will tell you. It began in 1948. Back then, the Communists had not yet Garin cannot stop his jaw from dropping. They thought Chin spying began in 1970, but he's actually been spying on the US for 37 years. Three months later February 21, 1986 Prince William County Jail, Manassas, Virginia in his cell, Chin stoically eats a breakfast of pancakes and bacon with flimsy plastic cutlery. A few weeks ago, he was convicted of multiple counts of espionage and sentenced to 133 years in prison. At the age of 60, he knows he will never leave jail. Last night he wrote a letter to his wife, Kathy. Their marriage may have been on the rocks, but she is still his wife and has been the person closest to him throughout his time in America. He told her not to be sad. Taking his tray back to the common area of the jail, he notices the night guards are preparing to hand over to the day shift. He approaches one of them. Except, excuse me, the trash hasn't been emptied. I'm happy to do it. The guard looks at the overflowing bin. He fetches a new bin bag and hands it to Jin. Thanks. Jin has always been a well behaved and helpful prisoner. He takes the bag and bends over the bin until the guard has gone. But he doesn't change the trash. Instead, he tucks the bin bag in his trousers and shuffles back to his cell, then shuts the door behind him. Larry Qin was found dead in his cell later that morning. His spying left a mark upon the entire world. He helped Chinese leaders Mao Zedong and Zhou Enlai extract maximum concessions from President Richard Nixon. This in turn enabled China to re enter the world stage and stabilize its economy. He exposed undercover CIA officials in China and was responsible for the execution and imprisonment of many Chinese prisoners of war who cooperated with the Americans during the Korean War. In 2019, the French investigative journalist Roger Faligau reported that reliable sources had told him that Qin was visited in prison by a Chinese diplomat just a few days before he killed himself. Chin was allegedly told his family would be provided for if he ended his own life. Faligo claimed the FBI recorded this conversation. Chin's suicide meant his wife Kathy Chin was able to keep her husband's illegal espionage earnings. However, the Inland Revenue Service later chased her for unpaid taxes on those earnings. China officially denied all knowledge of Qin and said the case was a fabricated anti China propaganda stunt. However, in China many regard him as a hero and his family was allowed to build a cenotaph for him in Fragrant Hills park in Beijing after escaping China via Hong Kong. Yu Changshong, the man who revealed Qin's spying to the CIA, is thought to have lived out the rest of his life in the USA before dying in 2013 in his 70s. Join us for the next episode when Charlie Higson sits down with investigative journalist Bethany Allen. Together they reveal the enduring threat of Chinese state directed espionage and how China's sphere of influence reaches far beyond its borders. Bethany also shares her own run in with the Chinese government. 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 thespywhoaudible.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, including the Spy within by Todd Hoffman, Chinese Spies by Roger Faligo, and the Death of My Husband Jin Wudai by Kathy Chin, the spy who is hosted by me Inderavama. The producer was Vespucci with writing and story editing by Yellowant. For Yellowant, the writer was Judy Cooper. Research by Louise Byrne with thanks to Monte Cooper and Gigi Corps. 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 Luludis. 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.