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- [00:00]
Raza Jaffrey
Wondery subscribers can binge full seasons of the Spy who early and ad free on Apple Podcasts or the Wondery app.
- [00:09]
Gordon Carrera
This season of the Spy who, we're.
- [00:11]
Raza Jaffrey
Revisiting one of our most gripping spy stories, that of Oleg Lelen, the spy.
- [00:17]
Gordon Carrera
Who saved MI5, a man whose actions changed the course of the Cold War, triggering the biggest expulsion of spies by any government in history.
- [00:28]
Raza Jaffrey
Wondering August 30, 1971 just after 1am in London's West End in his patrol car, Police Constable Charles Shearer peers at a Hillman Minx driving up ahead. Its lights are off and it's drifting from side to side. Shearer flicks on the siren. Blue light flashes across the darkened shop fronts. The Hillman Minx pulls over. Shearer stops behind it and steps out of his patrol car. As he does, the passenger door of the car he pulled over opens. An attractive blonde woman gets out and hurries away. Shearer ignores her and walks towards the stopped car. The driver winds down his window. You scared my date away, Officer Shearer looks at the driver. He's a slim, suave man with a pencil moustache and wearing an expensive suit. Have you been drinking, sir? One or two. I'd like you to take a breathalyzer test. No, I'm not doing any tests. Then I'm arresting you for refusing to be tested. She regards the driver into the back of his patrol car, starts the engine and heads for the nearest police station. Then something heavy lands on his shoulder. The drunk's feet. Shearer swipes the man's feet away. Oi. What are you playing at? The man snarls as she ra pushes away his feet. You cannot touch me. You cannot stop me. I'm kgb. Shera's body tenses. The Soviet the Soviet spy agency's reputation for brutality has made it one of the most feared organizations in the world. Shearer checks the man's face in the rearview mirror. He's used to arresting big mouth drunks, but claiming to be KGB is a new one. And the guy doesn't look like he's joking. But then Shearer shakes his head. Even in the movies, secret agents don't blurt out that they're spies. This guy's got to be just another West End drunk. Yeah, sure you are, mate. Your kgb. And this here is the Kremlin. Shearer stops outside the police station and leads the drunk into the building. The custody officer looks up from his newspaper as they approach his desk. Who's your new pal? Shearer? Suspected drunk driver but refuses to be tested. The custody officer turns to the driver. Then it's a night in the cell and court in the morning for you. Name? Oleg Lelen. Occupation? Soviet trade official, Shearer interjects. Make your mind up. You said you were KGB a moment ago. The custody officer frowns. He did. I better notify Special Branch. The custody officer calls Special Branch, Scotland Yard's Counterterrorism unit. As he does, Leland staggers over to the bench in the waiting area. We've arrested a drunk who says he's a Soviet trade official and get this KGB time waster probably. But his name? Oleg Lelen. Yes, the arresting officer's still here. Okay, understood. Right away, sir. The custody officer hangs up and stares at Shira. Bloody hell, Shearer. I think he is kgb. Special Branch are on their way. They want him put in a cell immediately so that no one can get to him. They think someone's after him? I don't know, but they said you're not to leave the station either. Shira wonders what kind of secrets this drooling drunk could know that would make him so vital that he needs to be locked up for his own protection. She ra looks at Lelin. He's sprawled face down on the bench with his eyes closed, his silk tie dangling onto the floor, and there's a smirk on his face.
- [04:58]
Gordon Carrera
People love dogs on account of how nice, soft and fluffy they are. But did you know there's a credit card called Carecredit and it's like a dog in every single way. Okay, it's nothing like a dog, but you can use it to pay for things like vet care for your dog or dental and vision care for yourself. At over 200 doll 170,000 locations nationwide, CareCredit offers flexible financing for health and wellness for pets and people, which actually makes it better than a dog because dogs don't even have flexible financing.
- [05:23]
Raza Jaffrey
Take that dog's visit carecredit.com to apply and find a location near you subject to credit approval.
- [05:29]
David McLaughlin Muskie
If you're an NBA or WNBA fan who loves keeping up with pop culture, you've got to check out the six Trophies podcast presented by Aura. In this weekly basketball show, hosts Jason Concepcion and Shea Serrano comb through the spiciest news from the past week, handing out six pop culture themed trophies to six basketball related activities like the Sixth Sense I See Dead People trophy given to the player with the biggest comeback of the week, or the Denzel Washington in Training Day trophy for the most dominant performance of the week. And if upping your personal performance is on your mind Our sponsor Oura can help with that. Oura Ring gives you personalized updates about your sleep, stress, activity, recovery and more. All from a sleek, smart ring so you can win the Hack in youn Life Better than Bradley Cooper and Limitless Trophy. Check out six Trophies presented by Aura wherever you get your podcasts.
- [06:31]
Raza Jaffrey
From Wondery I'm Raza Jaffrey, and this is the spy who Beneath the veneer of the everyday lurks the realm of the spy. It's a dank, murky world full of dark corners, sinister motives and corroded morals. A place of paranoia and infiltration, sabotage and manipulation. In this season, we open the file on Oleg Lelen, the KGB man who triggered the biggest removal of spies by any government in history. It's a story of an overstretched security service in need of a win, a plan to unleash death and destruction on Britain's streets, and a love affair that shook the world. What you're about to hear are dramatized reconstructions based on real events and information that's been made public. But remember, in the shadowy world of the spy, the full story isn't always clear. You're listening to the Spy who Saved MI5 Episode 1 the Spider and the Fly 1969 Two Years Before Oleg Lelen's Arrest the North York Moors Oleg Lelen strides up the damp, windswept hillside, past thick clumps of dark purple heather. As he advances, drizzle pelts his raincoat and the binoculars around his neck swing side to side. He reaches the hilltop, wipes the rain from his pencil moustache, and looks around. Empty moorland stretches out in every direction. He reaches into his raincoat pocket and pulls out an egg timer. Lelin winds the timer, slips it back into his pocket, and raises his binoculars to his eyes. He sees a blurry hill in the distance. He adjusts the focus and pans across the landscape to find his target. He stops on what look like three gigantic golf balls. These are the radar stations at RAF Filingdales, and they maintain a constant vigil for a Soviet nuclear attack. And Len's here to find a way to destroy them. Officially, Lelin's a Soviet trade official who buys knitwear, but he's really a KGB operative sent to devise ways to bring Britain to its knees if war seems imminent. Like blowing up Liverpool's docks, stoking the conflict in Northern Ireland and destroying Britain's nuclear bombers. But RAF Filing Dales is his prime target. This facility gives the UK four minutes warning of a Soviet nuclear strike, enough time for Britain to fire back. And that's why Moscow wants a way to take it out. Leland scans the facility, seeking weaknesses and assessing defenses. The egg timer in his pocket screeches into life. Lenin lowers his binoculars and turns it off. It's time to move on before he attracts attention. But he'll be back. Kensington Palace Gardens, London On a park bench with a clear view of the Soviet embassy, a surveillance officer from Britain's Domestic Intelligence Service MI5 scatters breadcrumbs onto the ground. Pigeons fly in and land around him. As they peck at the breadcrumbs, the MI5 officer sees a man leaving the embassy. He's also a suspected KGB officer that MI5 have codenamed Red Swan. They hope to catch him in the act of meeting an agent or collecting information from a dead drop. But he's proved adept at giving MI5 surveillance crews the slip. As Red Swan gets into his car, the MI5 officer radios the operations room. Red Swan is on the move. Driving a blue ford Cortina in MI5's operations room near Regent's Park. The head of surveillance checks a huge map of London on the wall. On the map are tiny flags that mark the location of the pursuit vehicles at his disposal. And most of them are already tailing suspected Soviet spies. He weighs his options. He's only got two vehicles free. If he sends them off to Red Swan, he'll have no pursuit vehicles left. The officer feeding pigeons near the Soviet embassy radios again. Red Swan turning west towards Notting Hill. The surveillance chief's out of time. He grabs the radio. Vehicle 5 tail the blue Ford Cortina. Back at Kensington Palace Gardens, the two man crew inside MI5 surveillance vehicle 5 lets Red Swan drive past and then moves to follow. It hangs back, changing lanes and using buses for cover as it does. The operations room directs the second MI5 vehicle through the back streets so it can take over the pursuit and reduce the chances of Red Swan spotting the tail. Red Swan heads past Notting Hill and onto the leafy streets of Holland Park. A few seconds later, the second MI5 pursuit vehicle emerges from a side road and takes over the chase immediately. Red Swan indicates left. The MI5 officer in the passenger seat of the second pursuit vehicle sits up. Shit. That road loops back around. He could use it to flush us out. Red Swan turns left. The MI5 car follows. As they enter the side street, Red Swan slows to a crawl. The MI5 vehicle has no option but to keep going. Red Swan stops at the junction that leads back onto the main road and waits for the Mi5 vehicle to catch up. For a moment, the two cars idle in a standoff. Then Red Swan pulls out onto the main road, just ahead of a stream of oncoming traffic that traps the MI5 vehicle at the junction. By the time the traffic's past, Red Swan is gone. The MI5 officer hits the dashboard in frustration. Damn it. How? How can he have spotted us? We were barely on him. 10 seconds. The MI5 officer doesn't understand it. The takeover of the pursuit was flawless. There's no way Red Swan could have spotted the tail that quickly. Unless somehow he already knew their vehicle belonged to MI5. Old egg. Len smiles at the barmaid as she pours the last of the drinks he ordered. It's July 1969, and he's at the Tally Ho pub in Finchley, North London. He lifts the three glasses from the bar and heads through the smoky pub towards a small table in the corner. At the table, a stern man in a suit sits waiting, cradling a birthday present. His name is Vlad, and like Lelon, he's a KGB officer posing as a Soviet trade delegate. Lelin places the drinks on the table and sits next to Vladimir so they both have a clear view of the entrance. They're here to meet Siraj, Abdul Kadir. Vlad's been running Abdul Khadir as an agent for two years and today Lelin takes over as his handler. What's Sirodj like? Vlad keeps staring ahead at the pub's entrance, compliant, bitter. His father is a prominent judge in Malaysia. He came here to study law, but failed his exams. His family told him to stay, but he struggled because few English wanted to rent a room to an Asian. Now he's a lowly clerk in vehicle licensing, all of which led him to socialism. Lellin nods. So he's angry at being born into a life of great promise that never came to pass and thinks his job's below him. Yes. So now we give him purpose. And he's very useful. He can jerk vehicles we suspect are MI5 without arousing suspicion. He has security clearance? No, but knowing which vehicles he can't access the details of pretty much tells us which ones belong to British intelligence. Ah, he's here. Lenin looks at the short man in his mid-30s who's just entered the pub. He's clean shaven, with a prominent nose and short black hair. Vlad waves at him. Siraj, my friend, sit, sit. We already have your drink. This is the friend I told you about, Alex. Abdulkadir shakes Lelin's hand Pleased to meet you, Alex. Leland smiles. Alex is the alias he uses with the agency runs. Good to meet you too, Sirosh. Vlad hands Abdul Khadir the gift. This is from us. For your birthday. You've remembered, of course. Please open it. Abdul Khadir opens the gift. Inside is an expensive electric razor. Thank you. This is very kind. It reflects your contribution to our mutual struggle against the imperialists. Yes. Down with the British swine. The three men clink their glasses. Vlad looks Abdulkhadir in the eyes. Siraj, I have some news. I must return to Moscow. This will be the last time we shall meet. Alex will work with you from now on. Lelen smiles at Abdul Khadir. He's only just met him. But Lelen's already got plans for this malleable agent. Plans that go well beyond checking vehicle registrations so the KGB can spot when MI5's cars are following them. Plans that will help Lelyn figure out how to neutralize Britain's defenses. Westminster, London Sir Martin Furnival Jones pauses to light his pipe. He's in a meeting room deep inside the palatial Foreign and Commonwealth Office. It was built at the height of the British Empire, but now it's tired and worn. Its finely decorated walls have been covered over with plasterboard and its ceilings yellow from tobacco smoke. The whole place needs restoration, and that's something Furnival Jones can relate to. He's 58, with crow's feet around his eyes. His tweed jacket and knitted cardigan looks shabby next to the tailored suits of the Foreign Office officials he's here to meet. But beneath his relaxed exterior, Vernival Jones is a man with a burning mission. He's been the Director General of Britain's Internal Security Service, MI5, for three years, and from the moment he got the job, he's wanted to rid the nation's streets of Soviet spies. He removes his pipe from his mouth. There are almost 500 Soviet officials in our country, and about half of them are intelligence officers. We need to kick them out. The Foreign Office officials look unmoved. Furnival Jones isn't surprised. Inaction is their default setting. One official replies. We limited the size of the Soviet Embassy last autumn. Furnival Jones nods Yes. So now they're just filling their trade mission with spies instead? You and I both know the trade figures don't justify the recent expansion of their trade mission. Then expose them. That is MI5's job, is it not? We're outnumbered three to one. We cannot track them all. Besides, whenever we expel one spy, they simply send us another. A mass expulsion of their intelligence officers is the only way to get this under control. The official frowns that would seriously harm relations with the Soviets at a very delicate time. Relations are thawing. The Cold War could be resolved peacefully. The Soviets are indicating they might agree to trade deals or arms controls. And what? In return for these maybes? We let their spies run wild on our streets. We only have your word on that. And that's not enough. Furnival Jones says nothing. The officials aren't listening. MI5's reputation is still shot from its failure to expose Kim Philby and the rest of the Soviet Cambridge Five spy ring that infiltrated Britain's foreign intelligence service, MI6. But Furnival Jones knows that beyond these walls, the Soviet threat is growing and MI5 is in no position to stop it. What he needs is he's an agent inside the kgb. Someone who can expose what's going on and finally shock the politicians into action. But since MI5 has never managed to recruit someone inside the KGB before, that's like asking for a miracle.
- [20:32]
Gordon Carrera
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- [22:22]
Raza Jaffrey
1969 and the opening party for the new Soviet trade delegation complex in Highgate, London is underway. Around the room, British businessmen and politicians mingle with Soviet trade officials, sipping drinks and trading jokes. In one corner, Oleg Lelon's secretary, Irina Tepliakova, sips champagne. She's a 29 year old mum with her blonde hair cut into a fashionable bob and she's sandwiched between Lelin and her husband. This year's grain harvest was even worse than last year. This means there is Teblyakova listens as her husband tells Lelin about his work as a wheat buyer. She wonders if Len's as bored as she is with her husband's chatter. Tekova notices a change in mood at the other end of the room. She cranes her neck to see what's happening and sees a man with jowly cheeks and silver hair shaking people's hands. Is that Harold Wilson? Her husband stops talking and turns to look at the British Prime Minister. Yeah, it is. My glass is empty. I'll get more drinks. Len moves closer to Tepliakova as her husband leaves. Would you like to meet him? Tepliakova stares at Len. Harold Wilson? Yeah. You know him? No, but it's no problem. Do you want to meet him? But I shouldn't. Don't be silly. Come. Len places his hand on the small of Tepla's back. She feels a fristen of excitement at his touch. No, he won't want to meet me. Of course he would. What man wouldn't want to meet a woman as beautiful as you? Tabliakova smiles but then sees her husband returning. She pulls away from Len. Her husband arrives and hands out the glasses. She makes eye contact with Len as they sip their drinks. Then Lelon straightens his back. Well, I'm off to meet Wilson. You two coming? Tepla's husband replies. No, we'll stay here. Tepliakova watches Len walk away and wishes she was going with him. Sir Abdul Kadir tenses as his train pulls into London Waterloo station. It's February 1970 and he's just made a round trip to the naval city of Portsmouth. As the platform rolls into view, he tightens his grip on his newspaper. Inside its folds he's hidden a flattened beer can. Lellin called him this morning and told him to go to Portsmouth and collect this can from behind a tombstone. This is the second time he's done this for Len. He assumes it's a dead drop. He's read about them there wen spies hide information in pre arranged places for other spies to collect, which makes Abdul Khadir wonder if he's now a KGB spy. He's not sure what secrets are in the beer can. He peered into it but only saw a few stones and he doesn't dare investigate further. He never worried about checking vehicle registrations, but these new missions make him anxious. Abdul Khadiya opens the train door, steps onto the platform and heads towards the concourse. He sees Lelin ahead. He's standing still and motionless as the crowd swirls around him. Leland smiles as Abdul Qadir approaches Siraj. Did you have a successful trip? Yes. It was where you said it would be. And your trip was uneventful? Yes. Lelon glances at Abdul Qadir's folded up newspaper. Abdul Khadiya gets the hint. Oh yes. Here. Abdul Khadiya feels relief as Leland takes the newspaper and the beer can hidden within its pages. When you want me to do this again? Maybe next week or the week after. I'll tell you when. What's in the beer can? Something to do with the Navy? No, I can't tell you. But rest assured, it's important for our struggle. Couldn't you collect these cans yourself? I'm afraid not. But I appreciate your help. Leland places a hand on Abdul Qadir's shoulder. I don't like doing this. Lelon leans towards Abdul Qadir. My friend, it's better you don't argue. Otherwise bad things will happen to you. Painful things. Abdul Khadiya shivers. He doesn't doubt Lelin for a moment and he senses that it's already too late to walk away. October 1970 the Soviet embassy, Kensington Palace Gardens In a small room with dark wood panels on the walls, inside the Soviet Embassy, British Foreign Secretary Sir Alec Douglas Hume takes a seat. Sir alec is a 67 year old elder statesman with a taut face and short, thin wisps of grey hair that hug the back of his head. He embodies British aristocracy. He became an Earl at 15, went to Eton and Oxford and became Prime Minister for a year before losing the 1964 election. Then five months ago, Edward Heath led the Conservatives back to power and made Sir Alec Foreign Secretary. Now Sir Alec wants to do something about the Soviet spy problem. He's alarmed at MI5's reports of the KGB running around the country, stealing secrets and trying to infiltrate the government. So he's asked for a private chat with the Soviet Foreign Minister Andrei Gromyko, who's visiting London. Gromyko shuts the door. So, Sir Alec, what is this about? Sir Alec looks uncomfortable. It's an unseemly topic, I'm afraid. You've nominated a Mr. Kudashkin to join your embassy here. He was previously implicated in intelligence activities in the United States. I trust we can agree that his visa application lapsed. Kromyko's face darkens. I know nothing about this case. But he is probably a victim of the practice of fake information being planted against Soviet officials. Regretfully, this is no isolated incident. We believe at least 300 Soviet officials in our country are involved in suspect activities. These figures cannot be true because the Soviet Union does not have spies. Maybe you should put your complaint in writing. Gromyko opens the door to indicate this conversation is over. Sir Alec burns with humiliation as he returns to the official dinner he's here to attend. But what stings most is the sense of. Of powerlessness. MI5 wants the spies thrown out, but Sir Alex knows Moscow will retaliate in kind. And with more Soviet representatives in London than British officials in Moscow. Tit for tat expulsions will only end in victory for the USSR. Then there's Berlin. Since World War II, Britain, France and America have controlled the west of the the city, much to the frustration of the Soviets who want it subsumed into communist East Germany. But now, after 25 years of struggle over the city, talks to settle Berlin's future are underway. If Sir Alec falls out with the Soviets now, it could derail those talks and Britain would be blamed. What Sir Alec needs is leverage. Something that can put the Soviets on the back foot and give him the COVID he needs to kick out the spies in Britain's midst. Two months later and at the offices of the Soviet Import Export Agency Rasno in Regent Street, London, the receptionist smiles as Oleg Lenin arrives. She's new to the job, but Leland's already a highlight. She thinks he's fun, charming and that his pencil mustache is rather dashing. She waves to him. Morning. Oleg Lelin moves towards her but trips over the doormat. He grabs onto the reception desk just in time to avoid falling face first onto the floor. He winks at the receptionist. Seems I'm drunk again. D Don't tell anyone. Len looks at the receptionist. Say, what are you doing at lunchtime? Nothing. Then you must come for lunch with me. Be ready at noon. The receptionist watches Len walk into his office, then turns to see one of the Soviet women glaring at her. Don't think you're anything special? He chats up everyone. The typist sat nearby chimes in. He's married too. The Soviet woman snorts. Tell that to Irina Tepliakova. The women laugh. The receptionist wonders who Irina Tepliakova is.
- [32:05]
David McLaughlin Muskie
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- [33:05]
Raza Jaffrey
Hello, I'm Gordon Carrera, National Security Journalist and I'm David McLaughlin Muskie, CIA analyst turned spy novelist. Together we're the co host of the Rest Is Classified where we bring you the best stories from the world of secrets and spies. We have just released a series on the decades long battle between the CIA and Osama Bin Laden and this week we are stepping into the devastation of the 911 terror attacks to understand how Osama Bin Laden was able to carry out such a plot right under the nose of the CIA. It was a moment that changed global politics forever, shifting the focus of spy agencies away from nation states towards hunting for terrorists and understanding the extremist ideology that drove them. We will then go into the decade long manhunt for Osama Bin Laden which culminated in a dramatic raid at his compound in Pakistan in 2011 which killed the world's most wanted terrorist. Listen to the Rest is Classified Wherever you you get your podcasts it's January 1971 and at the dimly lit Celebrity Club in London's Mayfair, scantily clad dancers perform that night's cabaret and at one table, Irina Tabliakova, siblings, champagne and looks into Oleg. Len's dark eyes. Len leans in for a kiss. Tepliakova pulls back. Someone might see us. Lenin looks around. Who? I don't know. We're not in Moscow now, but we're both married to other people. Len flags down a waiter. Another bottle of champagne, please. The waiter glances at the table. On it are the remains. Remains of an expensive meal and several empty bottles. Leland's bill for tonight is already more than the average Britain earns every month. I need to check, sir. It's on the tab of the Moscow Narodny Bank. Oh, very good, sir. Tabliakova sips her drink as Len turns to watch the cabaret. She's never tasted life like this. It's a life unthinkable in Moscow. And she knows that that one day she will be ordered home, never to taste it again. Desire rises within her. She reaches out and turns Len's face away from the dancers and towards her. You should be looking at me. Len places her hand on her knee. Their eyes meet and they kiss. A few weeks later, in a London flat with few furnishings, two MI5 surveillance officers sit in the dark, watching for signs of movement from the apartment block across the road. The apartment block is owned by the USSR and MI5 keeps a constant watch on this building to help it track Soviet activity in London. The younger one picks up his mug and takes a sip of tea. Oh, it's cold. The older officer leans forward towards the window. Forget the tea. We've got movement. The young officer grabs his camera and peers out of the window. Through the glass panels of the apartment block's entrance, you can see the hallway lights been turned on. The two officers watch as the door opens. A man with a thin mustache steps onto the street. A moment later, a woman with a blond bob haircut follows. The younger officer takes a photo of the couple. You recognize them? The guy's Oleg Lelon, trade delegate. Buys socks. Sure he does. The younger officer takes another photo of the couple as they turn to talk to to each other and the woman. The older MI5 officer looks again at the woman as she and Leland embrace. Not sure, but it's past midnight and they're saying goodbye, so she's probably not his wife. The younger officer smiles and leans forward to take another photo as Len and The blonde kiss. February 1971. An MI5 safe house in London. Leland stares at the photographs spread out across the kitchen table. Photo after photo of him and Irina Tepliakova. Drinking, dancing, embracing, kissing. Touching photos taken over several Days. All undeniable proof of his affair with the wife of another KGB officer. It's enough to destroy his career and get him sent back to Moscow in disgrace. At best. The middle aged MI5 officer with the beard who handed the photos to him leans forward. How about you just skip this I'm not a spy charade? We know you're not a trade delegate. You are kgb. We also know that her husband is kgb. And you and I both know it won't end well for you if these photos found their way to your superiors in Moscow. Len looks up from the photos. You got anything to drink? The MI5 officer checks the cupboard, finds a can of beer and puts it on the table. Lenin Hope for something stronger, but it'll do. He opens the can and gulps down the warm liquid. Lens knows how this works. The MI5 man with the beard is the spider and he's now the fly caught in its web. If the British share these photos with his superiors, his life will be ruined. There's only one path open to him right now. Cooperation. He looks at the MI5 man. Very well. So yes, I am KGB and I'm willing to defect and tell you what I know. The MI5 man leans forward. Actually, Oleg, we don't want you to defect. We want you right where you are. In the kgb but working for us. Leland nods. It asks the same if it was the other way around, then I have conditions. Which are? I want a safe house where Irina and I can go. And when, if the time comes, you let me and Irina defect together. We also need to talk about money and protection. The MI5 man nods. After years of being infiltrated and outnumbered by the Soviets, British intelligence finally has a man on the inside of the kg. And that changes everything. For years the KGB has been running rings around MI5. But now it's finally got a chance to strike back and sabotage the Soviet spy machine. Wondery plus subscribers can binge full seasons of the Spy who early and ad free on Apple podcasts or the Wondery app from Wondery. This is the first episode in our four part series, the Spy who Saved MI5. 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 of a sources. So even if a scene or conversation has been recreated for dramatic effect, it's still based on biographical research. The Spy who is hosted by me, Raza Jaffrey. Our show is produced by Vespucci with writing and story editing by Yellowant for Wondery For Yellow Ant. This episode was researched by Marina Watson. Karen Lowe is our story editor and our managing producer. Producer is Jay Priest for Vespucci, our senior producer is Thomas Curry and our sound designer is Iver Manley. Matt Willis is the supervising producer. Music supervisor is Scott Velasquez for Frison Sync. Executive producers for Vespucci are Johnny Galvin and Daniel Turkan. Executive producer for Yellow Ant is Tristan Donovan. Our managing producer for Wondery is Rachel Sibley. Executive producers for Wondery are Estelle Doyle, Jessica Radburn and Marshall Louie.