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- [00:00]
Narrator
This episode includes depictions of drug use and addiction. Please be advised. July 1975 Dalton Lee shuffles down Avenida de los Inso Gentes in the heart of Mexico City. He glances at the traffic roaring by, then slips behind a lamppost. He pulls a small glass vial from his pocket and taps a small pile of the white powder inside it onto his hand, then leans down and snorts it. Lee feels an immediate surge of power and excitement as the cocaine courses through his body. He takes out a roll of adhesive tape, tears off two strips, and sticks an X on the lamppost. Then, checking nervously over his shoulder, he darts back down the street. His signal has been sent. The next evening, at 6pm Lee leans against a palm tree outside the Polyphorum Cultural Center. He gazes up at the famous March of Humanity mural, his mind a blurred mix of anticipation and fear. Lee has been snorting cocaine and smoking marijuana all afternoon and now shuffles nervously on the spot to contain his twitchy energy. Then, as if from nowhere, he sees his KGB contact, Vasily Okana, approaching on foot. The signal on the lamppost has worked. Do you know the restaurant in San Francisco? Lee is surprised that Okana insists on going through their password protocol, given they already know each other, but he plays along. No, but I know the restaurant in Los Angeles. Okana nods in approval and and motions for Lee to follow him. Okanawa leads Lee to a small park. Palms and jacaranda trees sway overhead as a local taco seller plays mariachi music from his tinny radio. A man steps out of the shadows and walks towards them. Okana smiles. Mr. Lee, this is Colonel Muzankov. He will be your point of contact from now on. Muzankov stands with military stiffness. When he smiles, Lee sees his two front teeth have been replaced with shining steel dentures that glitter menacingly in the street lights. Come. Sit. Lee recognizes something in the Colonel's commanding manner. Mozhankov is obviously Okanar's superior. Lee has seen this before in his drug dealing business. If Okana is the guy who deals in ounces, Muzankov is the guy who traffics kilos. Lee smiles to himself. He's moving up in the world. He follows Muzan Kov to a bench, then holds out the folder of documents he is carrying. Okay, I've got good stuff for you guys right here, and you need to make it worth my time. Mov flips through the file, then turns back to Lee. We need to meet your friend, the one who gets all this information. Come on, man. I already explained that isn't possible. You tell me what you need, I can get it. There are certain technical issues, detailed scientific matters that are too complex to be transmitted through you. The material you have brought us is useful, but they are fragments. To piece these fragments together, we need to be able to tell your friend exactly what we need. What can I say? Write a list and I can give it to him. But he won't ever meet you. Li knows that he holds the upper hand because only he knows how to get to Christopher Boyce. Muzankov frowns. You're both taking unnecessary risks transporting actual documents. From now on, just take pictures of them and bring us the film. That is much safer. Sure. Good thinking. If anyone asks, I just say I'm a photographer. But Mr. Lee, we need all the technical details we can get about the American satellites. Manuals, technical codes, and especially the frequency codes the NSA uses. I will make a list. I'll get you what you need, Colonel. But you have something I need too. Mozhankov scowls at the naked greed in Lee's expression, but holds out an envelope stuffed with dollar bills. Lee's face breaks into a grin as a wave of cocaine fueled euphoria courses through him.
- [04:45]
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- [05:20]
Narrator
From Audible Originals. I'm Raza Jaffrey and this is the spy who in the last episode, Christopher Boyce landed a job in the Black Vault, a top secret facility processing communications from America's spy satellites. But after discovering how the CIA was spying on US ally Australia, he teamed up with his falconry pal, drug dealer Dalton Lee, to flip the bird to the intelligence services by selling their secrets to the Soviet Union. You're listening to the spy who sold codes and cocaine. This is episode two the Party Line. October 1975, Los Angeles. Christopher Boyce pushes open the door of Dalton Lee's family home in Palos Veres to see a group of semi clothed young men and women dancing to loud funk music. The ground is strewn with empty bottles and through the thick clouds of marijuana smoke, Boyce can see people huddled over tables chopping lines of cocaine. This party has obviously been going On a while, he pushes through room after room looking for Lee. He has seen Lee's parties before, but this is a new level of excess. He marvels at how Lee gets away with it. Lee's wanted by the police, but still manages to slip in and out of the country with ease, using a false passport. Boyce also wonders how his friend can afford to lay on such epic quantities of free coke, pills and weed for his guests. Boyce slides open the glass doors leading to the outdoor swimming pool and spots Lee on the other side. Lee is using a camera to snap a photo of a pretty young woman who smiles and poses provocatively. Then, to his horror, Boyce realizes the camera is the tiny Minox spy camera they bought for taking pictures of the secret documents of the Black Vault. Lee grins at the girl, obviously showing off. See this little camera? The one all the spies use because it's so small? Oh, wild like James Bond. Boyce strides over, ignoring the bikini clad woman, and grabs Lee by the arm. Lee looks surprised. Ah, Chris. Hey, man, get over here. Boyce drags Lee into the pool house and slams the door shut. What the hell are you doing flashing that camera around and talking about spies?
- [07:58]
Dalton Lee
Are you crazy?
- [07:59]
Narrator
Relax, man. The girl didn't know no shit. Lee shrugs off Boyce's hand, then reaches into his pocket and pulls out a glass vial. He taps out some powder and snorts it up. Boyce notices that the powder is not the usual white of cocaine, but a light brown. Dude, is that. Are you on heroin again? Get off my back. It's not like I'm doing it every day. You need to be careful with that stuff, man. You need to keep quiet about what we're doing. Boyce waits for Lee to react, but Lee just stares at him, glassy in his opiate haze. Boyce stares back at his friend in horror, a new plan forming in his mind. A few days later. The TRW Compound, Redondo Beach, Los Angeles. Boyce is alone in the black vault with a sheet of paper in front of him. He scribbles down a series of seemingly random numbers, reads it over to check he's got it right, then raises the Minox camera. The numbers he just photographed aren't random at all. They're a coded message to the Soviets. Once decoded, the message will give them the number of a payphone where they can contact him directly without going through Lee. Boyce is certain that the KGB will be able to crack his simple code. What he's less certain about is his decision to go behind Lee's back and make direct contact with the Soviets. But now he's taken the photo. It's too late for second thoughts. When the Russians develop this film, they'll find his coded message along with a few other surprises that Boyce has thrown in. Three weeks later Le Lee sits at a table in a restaurant in Mexico City. His eyes flick nervously from the door to his wristwatch. He's waiting for Colonel Muzankov. The day before, he stuck an X to a lamppost and waited all evening. But the Soviets never showed. This is their backup meeting place. But once again, no one has arrived. On a sudden impulse, Lee jumps up, grabs his briefcase and walks fast out of the restaurant. Thirty minutes later, Lee stands across the street from the Soviet embassy. The KGB told him to never ever come to the embassy. But the Soviets have never missed a meeting before and paranoia surges through Lee's mind. What if the KGB is soured on their dealers? Lee plans to use the money from this exchange to finance his drug trafficking. And he's getting desperate. He snorts a bump of coke to steady his nerves. Then he sees the metal gates of the embassy swing open as a car pulls in. Lee sprints across the street, narrowly avoiding the oncoming traffic and slips in behind the car just before the embassy gates climbers shut. He immediately turns then nearest embassy guard. The guard's hand snaps to his gun, a look of shock on his face. Lee's hands go up in surrender.
- [11:17]
Dalton Lee
Muzan Kov. I need to see Muzankov.
- [11:20]
Narrator
The guard's eyes widen at the mention of the colonel and gestures for Lee to wait, then grabs his radio. A moment later, Muzan Kov emerges from the embassy building, his face twisted with ice cold rage. Ten minutes later, Lee is in a dimly lit room in the basement of the Soviet Embassy. On the other side of the room's wooden table sits Muzankov. What did we tell you?
- [11:53]
Dalton Lee
Never come to the embassy. Never.
- [11:56]
Narrator
Look man, I. I gave you the signal. You never showed. If nobody arrives, you leave in any case. What signal? We never got any signal from you. What do you mean? I stuck the X on the lamppost like we said. Which lamppost? Which intersection was this on? Juarez and Reformer. Mozankov slams his fist down on the table.
- [12:18]
Dalton Lee
Idiot. It is Juarez and Rosales. You got the wrong intersection.
- [12:23]
Narrator
Lee squirms in embarrassment. This whole catastrophe is down to his his own schoolboy error. Then Mozankov seems to master his anger and becomes suddenly calm. Okay, it's just a mistake. These things happen. Mosankov walks through a wooden Cabinet retrieves a bottle of vodka and pours them each a drink. Come. We drink to peace. They down their glasses. Moyzenkov immediately refills them. It's good you got the camera. Much safer than carrying documents, man, you're gonna dig what we've got for you. It's gotta be worth 50,000 at least. Lee handed over the roll of film Boyce gave him earlier. He knows the photos are being developed. As he and Muzankov drink, a warm glow of relief spreads across Lee. He feels back in control. Say, you know what? I wanted to talk to you about an idea, anyway. You guys use diplomatic pouches, right? No one can look in those. Well, you got people in Colombia, too. Yeah. How about we arrange payment by you taking cocaine from Colombia to the States in your diplomatic pouches, and I'll pick it up there? Could be pretty neat, huh? Mozankov looks stunned at the audacity of Lee's proposal, but manages to control himself. I would have to consult my superiors about any such proposal. At that moment, the door opens and another KGB officer enters, holding the freshly developed photographs that Boyce took. Mozhankov begins leafing through them. There is some good stuff in there. It'll be worth the trouble. But Lee's hard sell is interrupted as Mozankov's face once again tightens in anger. What are these? Some kind of joke? What do you mean? What's. What's wrong with it? Lee stands to get sight of the photos spread out before the colonel, and to his horror, he sees several blurry photos of a nude woman, her face lit up in obvious sexual ecstasy. I. I assure you, I have no idea what those are. Lee feels panic rising. What the hell has Boyce given him? What game is his friend playing, sending him to the KGB with a bunch of porno shots? But by now, Mozhankov is on the warpath. This is trash. Trash? Come on, now. They're not all that bad. There are some valuable documents in there, too.
- [15:02]
Dalton Lee
What do you mean? These are illegible.
- [15:05]
Narrator
Lee sees that even most of the shots Boyce has taken of actual documents are largely overexposed and impossible to read. He sees Mozankov's eyes flick to one of the few documents which has actually come through. In focus, it looks different to any Lee has seen before. A seemingly random series of numbers. But then the Colonel's eyes flick away from it just as quickly. But you've still got to pay, right? We had an arrangement. You bring us something we can use, and then we pay. Lee feels another Surge of panic as he thinks of the cocaine deals he has ready to go. Come on. I took a big risk in coming here. If you ever want to see any more of these papers, then you better treat us right.
- [15:46]
Dalton Lee
Otherwise, you'll never see me again.
- [15:49]
Narrator
The threat of totally withdrawing from their arrangement seems to slow Mozhankov, who makes a visible effort to calm himself. Of course, we will pay you for your time. And for any of these photographs. We can actually use your friend in California. He should come to Vienna so we can train him in using the camera. I told you, man, he can't leave America. With his security clearance, you have to apply for permission to travel outside the country. Well, in that case, why don't you come to Vienna? We can train you and you can teach your friend. A few days later, Lee hammers on the door of Boyce's house in Redondo Beach, California. Boyce swings the door open, blinking in the early evening light.
- [16:43]
Dalton Lee
What the fuck do you think you're doing, sending me to the kgb? With a bunch of nude shots, Lee.
- [16:49]
Narrator
Pushes past Boyce into the house. Boyce follows with a laconic air, totally at odds with Lee's fury. Oh, they found those. Well, they wanted to see what's in the black vault at trw. And in the vault, there's a copy of Hustler magazine.
- [17:03]
Dalton Lee
Funny fucking joke, man. It's my ass in the line down there, not yours.
- [17:07]
Narrator
Hey, did they cough up or not? Those assholes will take anything we can give them. This stops Lee in his tracks. It's true that he did return with a modest envelope of cash. But Boyce didn't see the look of rage on Mozhankov's face. Look, Chris, they're not going to pay for anything forever. They want more than code cards. They want to know about the satellites. And they're goddamn crazy about getting the frequencies the coded messages are broadcast on.
- [17:34]
Dalton Lee
Man, they even want me to go.
- [17:35]
Narrator
To goddamn Vienna for training. You should go. You want to be the big tough spy. Vienna, man, that's close to Czechoslovakia. They could, like, kidnap me or something. They're not going to kidnap you, Dalton. They want what I have to give them. Lee and Boyce lock eyes. Lee needs this business. But now his partner and supplier seems to be losing interest and endangering the entire operation. March 1976. Austria. Lee Shivers in the spring air as he gazes over the Danube River. The sunset illuminates the city of Vienna in a golden haze. It's taken months for the KGB to convince Lee to come here for training. But Lee is nervous. This city is the setting for many of the spy novels he loves, and their extravagant plots now wheel through his mind. What if the Soviets have somehow made direct contact with the Boyce and now intend to kidnap him into the eastern block? What if all this is an elaborate trap? Then he sees Colonel Muff walking out from under a small stand of birch trees, his steel teeth flashing in the waning sun. March 1976 Vienna, Austria Dalton Lee is exhausted. It's been two days since he met Colonel Muzankov on the banks of the Danube, and he spent almost all of that time in the basement darkroom of a KGB safe house, being schooled in photography. Lee's clothes and hair stink of the darkroom's developing fluid. All he wants is to be back in California with a little heroin to take the edge off the stress. His KGB trainer spreads the photographs he has taken and developed over the table. See? No good. Out of focus. We must try again. Lee looks down at the blurry grey photographs and slumps in his chair. Then the trainer holds out a small metal chain. Don't worry. It's getting better. Here, we brought you this. It's exactly 40cm long. Your friend can use it to judge the distance of the camera. Fine. How much longer do I have to stay here? The trainer leans forward with an urgent, almost hungry expression. We must teach you photography. Then we must teach you how to avoid being followed. We need this information you are bringing. We need to know about the rhyolite satellite program program about the infrared technology. And most of all, we need the frequencies the National Security Agency uses to communicate. Mr. Lee, this information is crucial for us. We will pay whatever it takes. Lee can see the man's desperation. He's seen that kind of hunger before in the eyes of the addicts he sells drugs to when they need a fix. Lee leans back and he his chair. He now realizes that as the dealer, he holds the power in this relationship. But also that if his addict customers get too desperate, they might kill to get what they want. The following month, Redondo Beach, California Christopher Boyce sips a margarita in the back room of the black vault. TRW it's 4:30pm and he's just been handed his first cocktail of the afternoon by his colleague Gene Norman, whipped up using the office's document pulping blender in the main section of the vault. Norman is drinking with the systems analyst. Boyce has taken the opportunity to slip into the back room and replace some top secret cipher cards that he snuck out of the building to photograph at home the day before. Each card needs to be slipped precisely into its own plastic folder and Boyce works quickly to hide them away. He hears Norman pick up the phone in the next room. Yeah. What now? You're kidding. Like right now? Holy. Boyce hides his folder as Norman runs into the back room. Chris Holy shit, man. We got an NSA inspector on the way up here right now.
- [22:06]
Dalton Lee
We gotta clean this place up stat.
- [22:09]
Narrator
The vault explodes into a rush of activity as Boyce, Norman and the other employees rush to get the facility ready for inspection. Norman frantically hides tequila bottles and the marijuana plants he's been growing. The systems analyst wipes down the code destruction blender and frenetically sticks files back into their places. Boyce slips the file of cipher cards he's been returning back into its storage unit. Norman flips the radio off just as the inspector from the National Security Agency swings open the bolt's door and strides into the room. Good afternoon. I'm Agent McAvoy from the NSA. I'm here to take a look around. Boys Keeps his eyes glued on McEvoy as the inspector circles the vault, picking up files and flipping through them for discrepancies. Can you open this storage unit for me, son? McAvoy is pointing towards the exact cabinet where Boyce just stashed the file of cipher cards. There's no option but to comply. Boyce watches McAvoy scrutinize each file in turn. Then his blood runs cold. He realizes that in his haste to clear things away, he slid one cipher card into its plastic folder. Upside down images flash into Boyce's mind. The inevitable confrontation with McAvoy. His arrest for espionage, prison. McAvoy flips the file over to the upside down card. There it is, right in front of him. McAvoy's eyes scan the file. Then he flips over the page and carries on as if nothing is out of the ordinary. Boyce's body slumps in relief. There's no way that McAvoy missed the upside down card, so he must have simply not realized its significance. But there's no way that Boyce can ignore how close he just came to design disaster. Two months later, Lee sits across from Boyce at his family home in Palos Verdes. The two are sipping beers, but the mood is tense. Lee leans forward with a twitchy nervous energy. The Russians want more. They're saying we've given them scraps of useful info in the past, but they need those NSA frequencies. Falcom. They'll take what they're given, man, they are not going to take that anymore. They are really putting on the pressure. Just tell them you're working on it. Come on, why don't you just take some pictures of this Rhyolite satellite and get them off our backs? Dalton, I'm not doing it. No way. I'd have to get into a whole different facility. At this, Lee snaps. He jumps to his feet, staring down at Boyce in rage.
- [24:57]
Dalton Lee
I'm the one out there risking my ass. I actually have to face these people.
- [25:03]
Narrator
In a flash, Boyce is on his feet, looming over his much shorter friend. Yeah, and you get paid for that, don't you? The Russians told me how much they've given you, and I definitely didn't see half. Oh, yeah, I know about that. Lee feels almost an electric shock at hearing that. Boyce must have somehow established a direct contact with the KGB and now knows he's being shortchanged.
- [25:28]
Dalton Lee
Man, that is bullshit. That's just those Russian assholes trying to.
- [25:32]
Narrator
Drive a wedge between us.
- [25:33]
Dalton Lee
Look, man, you're gonna have to decide. Are you in this or are you out?
- [25:37]
Narrator
Boyce pauses. Then his aggressive posture softens. Maybe I'm out. I don't know, man. You go play James Bond if you want. Lee gulps. He needs the KGB's money to pay the Mexican traffickers who supply his drug business.
- [25:52]
Dalton Lee
Oh, you think you can just walk away? I still have copies of some of the stuff you gave me. How about I go show those to your dad, the big FBI man, and let him see what his son's been up to? Or I could give the Russians your name and they'll hunt you down. You think they're ever going to let you and me go?
- [26:08]
Narrator
Boyce freezes at this direct threat. The two friends regard each other in silence, all memories of the camaraderie between them lost in a frozen sea of bitterness and hatred. Last night, a few days later, the outskirts of Los Angeles. Boyce keeps his hand on the steering wheel of his yellow Volkswagen, lost in thought as the suburban sprawl outside rolls past. What do you think, Chris? Chris, are you even listening to me? Yeah, sorry, I. Boyce and his girlfriend Alana are driving out to the Mojave Desert for a camping weekend. In the back seat in his cage is Boyce's Falcon. Chris, I thought this weekend was going to be for us. But you've barely said a word since we left. Sorry, I just. I've had a lot of pressure. Boyce's heart sinks. For months, he's been wrestling with his feelings for Alana. He loves her deeply, but as things have gotten more involved with the kgb, he wonders whether it's fair to drag her further into his life. At night, he lies awake picturing himself being arrested, terrified of what that would do to Alana. Come on, Chris. You're so angry and on edge all the time.
- [27:23]
Dalton Lee
I barely know you anymore, Alana. What do you want me to say?
- [27:26]
Narrator
I don't know.
- [27:27]
Dalton Lee
Maybe that you love me.
- [27:29]
Narrator
Boyce almost chokes. His knuckles turn white on the steering wheel. He longs to tell Alana that of course he loves her then, that she means everything to him. But he knows that if he does, it will only ever lead to harm for her. The pressure builds within him until he can't take it anymore. You know what? I don't. I don't think I do.
- [27:51]
Dalton Lee
What are you saying?
- [27:53]
Narrator
I think it's best if we stop seeing each other. Alana turns pale. Tears stream down her face. Ahead of them is a gas station.
- [28:03]
Dalton Lee
Pull over. Let me out.
- [28:06]
Narrator
Boyce guides the VW to a stop. You really are an asshole, you know? It's a few hours later and in a remote spot in the Mojave Desert. Boyce sits in his vw, looking out over the landscape, tears running down his face. In his hand is a.38 revolver. He knows that breaking up with Alana was the right thing to do, to protect her. But his heart is still broken. But now his thoughts move back to the other subject he's been circling for weeks. That maybe his only way out of this nightmare is to kill his friend Lee, who is threatening to blackmail him into continuing to spy. This spot in the desert would be the perfect place. Place he and Lee could come out here for a falconry trip like they used to. The desert scavengers would get rid of the body in no time. It feels like the only way. But then images of himself and Lee as altar boys flash through his mind. Two friends bonded by falconry. He knows he can't do it. He may have betrayed his country, but he's not a murderer. Boyce stares down at the gun in his hand. Then the thought comes to him. He doesn't have to kill the but maybe he could cut him out. Perhaps the answer is to meet with the Russians face to face. Ten days later September 4, 1976 Dalton Lee is asleep in his hotel room in Mexico City when he starts awake. It's a loud knocking on his door. Lee's up in an instant, his mind flashing to the stash of heroin, cocaine, and weed in his room. Could this be the police? Open up, asshole. It's me. Lee swings open the door to see Christopher Boyce illuminated in the hallway light. What the hell are you doing here? Well, I thought maybe I should come meet some of these Russians I've heard so much about. A bolt of panic shoots through Lee's mind. Is Boyce suddenly trying to make contact with the KGB in order to cut him out of their deal? Oh, you know, you've missed this month's meeting. Maybe we can try again next time. Well, you're a smart guy. I'm sure you can can arrange another meet tomorrow. The following evening, Boyce grips the inside door of a limousine as it speeds through the Mexico City traffic. Lee is sitting next to him in the front passenger seat is their KGB handler, Boris Guishin. The limo's swerving through traffic so recklessly it's making Boyce's head spin. Lee catches his discomfort and gives a smirk. Don't look so freaking scared, man. It's to get rid of surveillance. Boyce doesn't appreciate his friend's patronizing tone, and his nerves aren't calmed by the knowledge in the back of his mind that Lee has been snorting heroin and smoking marijuana all afternoon. Then the limo makes a sharp turn and Boyce sees the cocky grin disappear from Lee's face. He's obviously scared of something. Hey. I thought we were going to dinner. Boris gives Lee a cold glance over his shoulder. Dinner is at the embassy tonight. The car pulls to a stop outside the Soviet embassy. The large metal gates clang open and they creep through, Coming to a stop. Boris slides out, followed by Lee. As Boyce emerges, Lee surreptitiously grabs his arm and pulls him close, a look of fear creeping over his face. Remember, Chris, whatever they ask you to get, just tell them you can get it. You have to keep stringing them along. Ten minutes later, Boyce follows Lee and Grishin into the basement of the Soviet embassy. Lee walks straight to the bottles of vodka sitting on the table. Grishin pours them each a shot and they raise their glasses. To peace. To peace. To cash. Both Boyce and Grisheen give Lee a sour look, but Grisheen quickly recovers. Comrade Chris, I have to salute you. The work you have done, it's invaluable to the cause of socialism. Well, I just wanted to balance things out with what the CIA gets up to. Grishin pours them all another drink as he shifts tone again. Indeed. But what is now essential is that you provide US with the frequency codes so that we can decipher the NSA messages. Yeah, well, sorry Boris, I can't get those. They're held at another facility. Lee's head snaps around in horror. At the same time Grisheen stares straight at Lee, addressing him in shock. You said he could get these frequencies. You promised that for months and were paid well for the promise. Lee says nothing and just throws back his shot at vodka. Grishin recovers his composure, turns back to Chris and hands him a sheet of paper. Well, there is still other work to be done. Mr. Boyce. This is a list of some of the employees at trw. Can you tell us about them? Their ages, marriages, Any drinking or drug habits? Any adultery or sexual deviancy? Chris stares down at the paper, his heart sinking. It was one thing to give the Soviets technical details of satellites and code ciphers, but now he's being asked to set up his co workers for blackmail and manipulation. Boyce is beginning to realize that the KGB are no better than the CIA. Three hours later, Lee raises himself from the sofa where he's been slumped and walks unsteadily back to the table with the bottles of vodka pouring himself and Boyce yet another They've been drinking heavily for hours. On top of the weed and heroin. Lee is now feeling very hazy, but there is also an anger welling within him. The whole time down here, Grisheen has focused his questions on Boyce and Lee feels ignored. But now Grisheen has left the two alone together for a moment, giving him an opportunity to talk to his friend. You shouldn't have told them you couldn't get those frequencies. I told you to just say you could get anything they wanted. Why are you whispering? Because they're fucking listening, man. This whole place is bugged. Lee's paranoia rises within him. He has to show Boyce that the KGB can't be trusted. Lee staggers over to the wall and begins tapping the paintings, looking for bugs. If eventually he comes to a large medieval style coat of arms and spots something behind it. See? See this?
- [35:34]
Dalton Lee
They've got this whole place bugged.
- [35:36]
Narrator
Lee holds up the microphone and cables that he's just ripped from the walls. Boyce just shrugs. They're spies, man. Of course they're listening. At that moment the door swings open and Grischeen Re enters. He looks furiously at the microphone and mess of wires in Lee's hands. What are you doing spying on us, man?
- [35:58]
Dalton Lee
We can't trust you. You can't trust us for months you say you will get us the Frequency codes. But now I hear that is impossible.
- [36:08]
Narrator
Rasheen has also been drinking. And now he and Lee square off, almost nose to nose. We risk our asses to break, bring.
- [36:16]
Dalton Lee
You this stuff, and you never pay what you promise.
- [36:22]
Narrator
Lee reaches into his pocket and pulls out a few strips of photo negatives, which Boyce had given him months earlier. But he has been holding back to squeeze more money out of the Russians. He relishes the look of shock on Boyce's face. Here, look. How much for these?
- [36:38]
Dalton Lee
Without the frequencies, this is all worthless. And everything you give us is trash.
- [36:44]
Narrator
Suddenly, Lee feels his head begin to swim. His legs almost give way. The drugs, the alcohol, and now the adrenaline of this argument are catching up with him. Lee staggers away, falls back onto the sofa and passes. An hour later, Boyce is exhausted. He's now been questioned for hours. While Lee lies passed out on the sofa. Seeing his chance, Boyce grabs a sheet of paper and scribbles a note. The courier is a drug addict and unreliable. He's endangering the whole operation. This is why I'm here. Boyce slides the note over to Grishin, who reads it impassively. Grishin's eyes flicked to Lee, prone on the sofa. He can't be helped. But you, you are young and intelligent. Tell me, have you ever thought about working in the security services? Maybe at the CIA? They asked me to apply for a job, but I said no. I'd have to take a polygraph. Kashin smiles. There are ways to beat the polygraph. We could teach you easily. Tell me, how much would it cost to finish your education? I don't know. About 40,000 bucks. Maybe they will pay for that. You study politics and languages, then you get a job in the government. You could be of great service to the Soviet Union. One day, Royce feels a chasm opening beneath him. He came to Mexico to retake control over his life, but now he realizes that he is in the grip of the KGB and they will never, ever let him go. From Audible Originals. This is the second episode in our season, the Spy who Sold Codes and Cocaine. 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 many sources in our research for this season, including the Falcon and the Snowman by Robert Lindsay and American Sons by Christopher Boyce. Kate Boyce. And Vince Font. The Spy who is hosted by me, Raza Jafre. Our show is produced by Vespucci with writing and story editing by Yellow Ant for Audible. For Yellow Ant, this episode was written by J.S. raffaelli and researched by Luigi Byrne with thanks to Marina Watson and Russ Avery. Our managing producer is Jay Priest for Vespucci. Our senior producer is Ashley Clivery. Our sound designer is Alex Port Felix. Natalia Rodriguez is the supervising producer. Music supervisor is Scott Velasquez for Frison Sink. Executive producers for Vespucci are Johnny Galvin and Daniel Turkan. Executive producer for Yellow Ant is Tristan Donovan. Executive producers for Audible are Estelle Doyle, Theodore Leludis and Marshall Louis.