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Audible subscribers can listen to all episodes of the Spy who ad free right now. Join Audible today by downloading the Audible app. Summer 1997 Istanbul, Turkey A taxi crosses a bridge over the Bosphorus to the eastern half of the city. Inside sits Abdul Khadir Khan. Now aged 61, he is no longer a young scientist burning with the spirit of injustice. Instead, he is a multimillionaire, a fortune made from selling Pakistan's nuclear secrets to North Korea and Iran. And today he hopes to strike his biggest deal yet with Khan is his Sri Lankan associate, Buhari Seyed Abu Tahir. Ten years ago, Tahir played T boy at Khan's first deal with Iran. Now he oversees Khan's operations from Dubai. The taxi slows as it weaves through the residential streets. Tahir taps the driver's shoulder. You can drop us here. Khan and Tahir get out and walk down a narrow, winding street to a back street cafe. Waiting for them inside, at a small table are two Arab men in suits. The older of the pair is Matuk Muhammad Matuk, the head of Libya's nuclear weapons program. They shake hands and order Turkish coffees. Then Matuk gets to business. We have reviewed your proposal, Dr. Khan. Are you confident you can deliver? It's ambitious, yes. But for the right price, it can be done. Libya could achieve its goals within years. And this includes a full production facility? Yes. We'll build and test it somewhere off the radar, like South Africa. Then we'll dismantle it and reassemble it in Libya. Previously, Khan has supplied only blueprints, equipment or parts. But now he's offering Libya everything it needs, including a factory to produce warheads. He can tell Matouk wants it. What about the sanctions against us? Libya is under heavy international sanctions for sponsoring terrorism. It has supplied guns and money to the IRA and encouraged assassinations and attacks, including the 1988 Lockerbie airline bombing. But Khan isn't phased. I use Pakistan Air Force cargo planes to carry supplies to my hotel in Timbuktu. It will raise no eyebrows if those planes refuel in Tripoli. The Pakistan military is involved. I thought this was a private arrangement in Pakistan. I do as I wish. Nobody dares question my need for military planes. In that case, we would welcome a fuller proposal. Khan and the two men shake hands after the Libyans leave the cafe. Tahir's eyes are wide. They didn't even ask about the price. It will cost hundreds of millions of dollars. Libya has oil. Cost is not their concern. Speed is. Only once Libya has nuclear weapons will it be Able to get the sanctions lifted, Khan feels elation. Libya is his biggest customer yet, and what it wants will stretch his network to the max. But if he succeeds in giving it a complete nuclear weapons program, he will soon have even more pariah states desperate to buy his services. You know that moment when you order food and suddenly everyone around you gets very interested in your dinner? Yeah. That's what GrubHub does. Gives you deals so good you'll have to guard them. Gold Days of grubhub is here for four weeks of grubhub's best offers all month long in May, only for grubhub plus members. And if you're not a member, you can sign up now for just 99 cents a month for six months. That's 90% off Grubhub membership, auto renews and terms apply. Sign up now on the app or@grubhub.com plus gold. Don't miss it. I'm Raza Jafre and this is the Spy who An Audible original In the last episode, scientist A. Q Kahn turned spy to steal nuclear secrets from his Dutch employer and accelerate Pakistan's nuclear program. Now he's selling his expertise to Iran and Libya and looking to get rich doing it. You're listening to the spy who sold nuclear secrets to Iran. This is episode two Bombs for Sale. May 1998. The Rasko Hills, West Pakistan. Eiku Khan gazes out of the helicopter window at the black granite mountains below with repressed excitement. This remote and inhospitable region is where he will complete his 24 year journey from spy to atomic bomb architect. A few days ago, India conducted several underground nuclear bomb tests. So today, Pakistan is responding with a test of its own. The helicopter lands. Khan walks through the swirling dust to the bunker where he and other dignitaries will watch the test. A general greets Khan with a broad smile. Big day, Dr. Khan. You must feel like a father whose child is about to be born. It's a big day for all Pakistanis. A handheld radio transmitter crackles to life. Area is clear and ready for test. The nuclear devices buried deep inside a mountain 20 miles away are now ready. The engineer assigned to start the test approaches the detonator. The engineer presses the button. Seconds tick on and nothing happens. For a moment, Khan contemplates the dread of failure. But then the ground begins to shake. The mountains seem to come alive. Rolling clouds of dust simmer to the surface and boil into thick yellow clouds that rise into the blue sky. Beneath the clouds, the black granite of the mountain range turns white before their eyes. As photographers rush to capture the celebrating dignitaries, Khan thrusts his tall frame to the front, determined to ensure he is forever associated with this moment. Six months later Casablanca, Morocco. In the lobby of an expensive hotel, an MI6 officer pretends to read a newspaper while watching the cars that pull up outside. MI6 has been tracking Khan ever since Pakistan's bomb test. They've noticed unusual travel patterns, including visits to many African and Middle Eastern nations, accompanied by an entourage of scientists and suppliers. Now they've followed him to Casablanca to see who he's meeting. The MI6 officer sees his target emerge from the taxi that's just arrived at the hotel. Friedrich Tinner, a Swiss engineer who supplies Khan with centrifuge parts. As Tinner moves through the gilt revolving doors and heads to reception, the MI6 officer notices his suit jacket is folded over the handle of his wheeled suitcase. The officer casually folds his newspaper and takes out a mobile phone. He pretends to make a call while pacing the lobby. Can I help you, sir? I have a room booked. Yeah, we'll need to set up a meeting for tomorrow. The reports that are coming through indicate some serious problems. Bugger. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry about that. As Tinner checks in, the MI6 officer deliberately trips over Tina's suitcase. Tinner gives him an annoyed glance. The Mi6 man picks up the suitcase and uses the opportunity to slip a tiny listening device into Tinner's jacket pocket. So? So. Yeah. So tell. Tell Jenkins he needs to submit. The MI6 officer resumes his fake phone call and heads out of the hotel. Once outside, he puts his phone away and spends half an hour traversing the hot and noisy streets. He dips in and out of shops until he's sure he's not being tailed. Then he doubles back to an apartment block near the hotel. He climbs up the steps and enters the apartment he and his team are using as their base. A colleague gives him a thumbs up. He settles down to listen to the audio being transmitted by the listening device. And here's Khan talking with Tinna. Progress has stalled, but we need to frame it so the Libyans don't get cold feet. And they must know this is a challenging project. What's the problem in Dubai? Tahir can't find skilled workers and he can't train people. I need someone there who knows the technology. Would one of your sons be interested? I appreciate it would mean them relocating. Marco wouldn't want to move, but my eldest, Boris, might. He could do with leaving Switzerland. To be honest, his marriage isn't Going well and he has tax problems. Yeah, he would be excellent. Perhaps he can come up next month. The MI6 officers smell opportunity. Urus is about to join Khan's inner circle and his personal problems make him an ideal recruitment target. Late 1999 CIA Headquarters Langley, Virginia Jim Lawler enters a secure meeting room, notes he's the last to arrive and closes the door gently. Lawler's a thin and wiry operations officer on the Counter Proliferation Team and the team's here to discuss Khan. His boss starts the meeting. I assume we've all read the transcripts from the Brits. Looks like Khan and his network are helping Iran, North Korea and Libya develop nuclear weapons. One of the technical analysts looks angry. The transcripts are a year old. Why are we only getting them now? The decision was to watch and wait. But we've now learned that German and Swiss suppliers connected to Khan are making large shipments to Dubai. The concern is Khan's dealing with Libya are moving from talk to action. The technical analyst scowls. We should have moved on him a decade ago. Lawler says nothing but he agrees with the analyst. Politics always seems to get in the way. In the 80s the priority was to keep Pakistan onside to counter the Soviets in Afghanistan. In the 90s the priority was preventing nuclear technology escaping the collapsing Soviet Union and that made Khan's activities a low priority. Now Khan's network has moved from buying to selling nuclear technology. He is also more experienced and much harder to shut down. But Lawler's boss wants to move on from navel gazing. Our task now is to understand this network inside out. This will be a joint operation with the British and when we shut this network down it needs to stay shut. We still don't know if Khan's operating with Hislamabad's approval or if he's gone rogue. So our priority is to get someone on the inside. His boss distributes a stack of papers. On them is a photo of a man with a round face, round glasses, moustache and receding brown hairline. Underneath the photo is his name, Urs Tinner. Our British colleagues believe Tinner is a prime recruitment target. Lawler scan reads the biographical details. Despite his talents working with metals, Urs has struggled to hold down jobs. His ex wife has full custody of his two daughters and his second marriage is on the rocks. He has large tax and child maintenance debts. The boss turns to Laura. What do you think, Mad Dog? Everyone at Langley calls Lawler by his nickname. He secured it years ago after getting bitten by a dog suspected to have rabies but it stuck because of his single mindedness. Particularly when it comes to recruiting spies. Lawler nods. I agree. Urs is worth an approach. Some months later Dubai Sitting at the long bar of a glitzy hotel, Lawler watches Urs arrive and order a drink. The CIA's had him under surveillance for weeks, so Lawler knows that since moving to Dubai, Urs spends most evenings here alone, nursing a single drink before heading home. Lawler gets up and plonks himself next to Urs. You speak English? Yeah. Lawless smiles and holds out a hand. Thank God. I've not had a proper conversation in weeks. Name's Jim. Can I buy you a drink? Sure. Thank you. I'm US Urs. That German? Can be. But I'm Swiss. Lola waves the barman over and orders two whiskies. I thought there'd be more Westerners in Dubai. You live here permanently? Yeah, moved here almost a year ago. You? Just a short term contract. Lola keeps the small talk going until Urs finishes his drink. Then he smiles pleasantly. Urs, what you're doing here in Dubai could land you some serious jail time. What? What are you talking about? But I could protect you. I don't know what you're talking about. Oh, I think you do. Your bosses, Mr. Tahir and Mr. Khan are making and selling things they shouldn't. You're up to your neck in it. Us, Your entire family is. Urs hurriedly gets up his bar stool and grabs his suit jacket. Lawler keeps speaking. I have a deal for you Urs. Because I think you're a smart cookie. Smarter than most people think. Lola takes a sip of whiskey, watching as Urus stops and slowly turns back to face him. Who are you? Right now I'm your friend. But whether I stay that way depends on what you decide tonight. Why don't you sit back down? His face pale bloods this deal for being your. Your friend. Lola smiles. Urs is on the hook now to reel him in. A few weeks later. April 2000 the President's Palace Islamabad Pakistan's new leader General Pervez Musharraf listens to his anti corruption chief brief him on a secret investigation into A Q Khan. The scale of Khan's corruption is outrageous. He has seven properties here and in London. He's built a hotel in Timbuktu and uses military planes to fly materials and furniture out there. He has $8 million spread across bank accounts in Karachi, Lahore, Amsterdam and Dubai. All this on his government salary of $30,000 a year. Musharraf isn't Surprised? Khan doesn't hide his extravagant lifestyle. He owns more than 100 vintage cars and has a huge security team. The wedding celebrations for his two daughters reportedly cost more than a million dollars. How is he doing it? Your predecessors gave him absolute freedom over the Khan Research Laboratory's finances. He routinely orders more materials and equipment than he needs and pockets the surplus for himself, either selling it to his suppliers or other countries with nuclear programs, including North Korea and Iran. He uses front companies to shift the money around. Thank you for bringing this to my attention. You may go. Musharraf contemplates the information. He seized power in a military coup six months ago. But his position is precarious and Khan is both a threat and a liability. The scientist is hugely popular. His face is often painted on the sides of lorries and buses. His state funded research laboratory operates as a private fiefdom in with no oversight. He also has powerful backers within the military and government. And many journalists on his payroll. Arresting Khan could backfire badly. But ignoring him is not an option. America has threatened to withdraw economic aid if he doesn't clamp down on the rogue scientist. The consequences of losing that aid could be equally dangerous to his presidency. Musharraf must tread carefully. He presses the buzzer on his desk to call in his secretary. Yes, sir. Send a memo to all our nuclear scientists and officials from now on. They need approval to travel outside Pakistan. The secretary nods and hurries away. Musharraf doubts Khan will comply with the order. So he's also going to get Pakistan's intelligence service, the isi, to watch him. That way, when Khan slips up, he'll have eyes there to see it. A few months later, an Air Force base in Rawalpindi, Pakistan. An ISI Special Forces team crouches inside a hangar. Through his binoculars, the squad commander watches a C130 cargo plane leaving its loading bay. He signals his team. Stop the plane. Isi stop. Stop. Weapons drawn, the team rushes the plane. The confused pilot stops and lowers the loading ramp. The ISI operatives swarm inside, followed by their commander. Search every crate. The ISI has a tip off that Khan's using his plane to deliver centrifuge bars to North Korea. The squad opens the crates, checking for contraband equipment. What's inside? Medical supplies in this one, sir. Same over here. Crate after crate is opened. But they all contain medical supplies. The squad commander fumes. The intel might be wrong, but he strongly suspects someone warned Khan about the raid. And that means someone deep inside the ISI is protecting the renegade subject. Scientist. Several months later October 2000 Benazir Bhutto International Airport, Ralpindi, Pakistan An ISI officer in a business suit loiters in front of the departures board with an overnight suitcase at his feet. His earpiece crackles into life. Target arriving. Toyota ground sedan, security detail directly behind. Through the automatic doors, he sees two cars pull up in convoy and block the rest of the traffic. Armed guards emerge from the second car surrounding the first. While checking the area, one opens the back door of the Toyota and Khan steps out and heads into the airport. Khan. Excitement ripples through the airport as people recognize Khan. He's dressed in a light colored safari suit with sunglasses and his silver hair is brushed back. One onlooker shouts out, Dr. Khan. May God bless and protect you. Khan smiles and waves, but keeps moving towards the VIP security lane. The ISI officer follows and notices that instead of his usual briefcase, Khan is carrying two beige shopping bags bearing the logo of one of Islamabad's elite tailors. It seems to be his only luggage. After security, Khan heads for an expensive private lounge. The ISI officer joins the queue, a few people behind and do you have any identification with you, sir? The lounge clerk is immediately admonished by her manager. This is a. Q. Khan. He does not need to show you identification. I'm very sorry, sir. Please go in. No charge for the hero of Pakistan. Khan nods graciously and enters the lounge. The ISI officer follows and gets himself a cup of tea. He notices that Khan is being careful not to let go of his shopping bags. He needs to find out what's inside them. Pakistan International Airlines Flight 233 to Dubai is now boarding. On hearing his flight called, Khan gathers his bags and leaves the lounge. Thirty minutes later, the ISI officer moves through the first class section of the plane, looking for his seat. As he passes Khan, who's already seated, he notices the shopping bags are stowed under the seat in front instead of in the overhead lockers. There'll be no opportunity to search them on this flight. The next morning the Metropolitan Palace Hotel, Dubai the ISI officer sips a coffee, keeping an eye on the corner table where Khan is huddled with two Arab men in Western suits. The mysterious shopping bags rest between Khan's feet under the coffee table. But when Khan says his goodbyes, the two shopping bags remain under the coffee table. Shortly after, the two Arabs walk past with them. Four months later, January 2001 Pakistan Army Headquarters, Ralpindi In a large, airy room with marble floors and traditional rugs, President Musharraf stares coldly at Khan. I made it clear that all nuclear staff, including yourself, were not to travel overseas without permission. And I haven't. Don't lie to me. You flew to Dubai three months ago. You are now making arrangements to fly to Zohedan in Iran. How is it in Pakistan's interest for you to go there? It's a secret. Who are you to keep secrets from me? I am your President. It is time you retired. No. I'm the father of Pakistan's bomb. We have the bomb now. The work is done. You'll be 65 next year. You'll retire and live off the remarkably plentiful fruits of your labor. The Americans told you to do this. You are nothing more than their lapdog. This is about your lack of character as a public servant. I have an 800 page document in my office detailing your corruption. Musharraf is pleased to finally see fear flicker across Khan's face. He judges it's time to calm things down. Dr. Khan, you have given a great deal to Pakistan for this we are grateful. But you have also enriched yourself at its expense. I'm not the only one. Musharraf raises a hand to silence Khan. Yes. You could implicate others if you choose. But know this. Earlier today I called a meeting of senior military officers to discuss your future. Those voices in support of you were outvoted. You will regret this. You have two months to tidy up your affairs. After that, you are no longer allowed inside Khan Research Laboratories. You will keep a ceremonial title of Advisor to the President. Khan springs to his feet. Keep your worthless title. The offer remains should you reconsider. Khan storms out. Masharov watches with satisfaction. Khan's removal without an arrest will improve relations with America while avoiding a messy face off between Pakistan's two most powerful men. Two MONTHS LATER KHAN Research Laboratories Kahuta, Pakistan Standing at a photocopier, Khan watches duplicates of nuclear equipment designs spit into the document holder. He gathers them up and shoves them into a black briefcase, securing it with a combination lock. Scattered around the room are 11 other identical briefcases, also filled with the nuclear secrets that Khan is now stealing from his former fiefdom. Musharraf may have ended his government career, but with these documents and his global network of suppliers, he can continue selling nuclear secrets to anyone with deep enough pockets. A few weeks later, Dubai Uz Tinna knocks on the door of Khan's luxury apartment. Urs. Good to see you, my friend. Come in. Urus likes Khan. He's known him since childhood. And Khan seems to respect his technical skills. He also speaks with him in German, a rare joy for Urs these days. Urs feels guilt that he's now spying on Khan, but the CIA made it plain that he doesn't have much choice. Khan leads him down a long marble hallway decorated with pictures of birds and flowers. At the end is a spacious office with a large desk and high end photocopier. Thank you for coming. I have to go out and I need you to copy all the documents in my briefcase before my 3pm meeting. Urus gazes at the black briefcases lining the wall. He first saw them when he helped Khan move in. He told his CIA handler Jim about them and was told to find out what's inside them. Urs thought it an impossible task. But now Khan is unlocking the briefcases for him. I'll be a couple of hours. Please finish them before then. Yes, of course. As soon as Kahn leaves the apartment, Urs starts copying each page twice. One for Kahn and one for the CIA. The copies pile up. Blueprints for centrifuges, procedures for processing uranium ore. Floor plans for a uranium enrichment plant. Urs stresses as the wall clock ticks ever closer to the time of Khan's return. He wipes his sweaty hands on his shirt as he tries to keep track of the three different piles of documents. As Khan enters the apartment, Urs picks up his backpack, now heavy with all the copied documents. All finished. The originals are back in the briefcases and the copies are on the desk. Is it okay if I go and get some lunch? Of course. And thank you for your help. Once outside, Urs finally breathes properly and save is the triumph of his first successful spy mission. A few weeks later, Dubai. Khan's right hand man, Buhari Sayed Abu Tahir, arrives at the office of his front company, SMB Computers. It sits at the heart of Khan's operation, strategically located in the Jebel Ali free zone where companies face less scrutiny. But as Tahir places his briefcase on his desk, he notices something is wrong. His eyes rove around the office. The files on his desk are not where he remembered them being. A computer that he definitely switched off the night before. Four is on. Someone's broken in, but nothing's missing. This wasn't a burglary, it was a search. But by whom? The CIA? MI6? Mossad? He realizes it doesn't matter. The end result is the same. He needs to cover the network's tracks immediately. Documents must be burned or shredded, hard disks wiped. And Khan's nuclear parts factory closed, dismantled and and sold. And then he must rebuild operations somewhere new. A few days after the search, 2001, a CIA safe house in Dubai. CIA officer Jim Lawlor watches his asset Urs Tinna skittishly pace around the room. Everything's gone. The whole factory. Even my personal things that were in the office. Something spooked Tahir badly. He won't say, but I heard he thinks the offices were searched. Urs stops and stares at Lorla. Was it you? You said you protect me. Now everybody's suspicious. No, it wasn't us. I'll find out who it was. Lawler suspects he already knows after seeing the contents of Khan's briefcases. MI6 has been pushing to disrupt his nuclear network, but the CIA wants to hold back until they can be sure the network won't recover. Lawler wonders if this is MI6 trying to force action, but if so, all they've done is cause the network to go underground and alarm his man on the inside. Lawless shifts his focus to gleaning more intel from us. Now what happens? I'm to relocate to Malaysia. Tahir's wife is Malaysian and has influential contacts there. Also, there's a manufacturing industry, so it should be easier to recruit skilled labor. Okay, I'll set up a safe house in Kuala Lumpur. Just let me know the dates of the move. I don't know if I want to continue this. I mean. Bye. I don't think you know what they're capable of. You think they're just scientists. But I've heard things. Rumors. More rumors. A few years back, they uncovered a North Korean spy in Pakistan. She was the wife of somebody Khan was doing a deal with. She was shot at point blank range. Nobody ever even investigated the murder. Before Lawla can respond, Urs creeps closer. And she's not the only one. A police chief who tried to stop Khan building a holiday home was shot. That wasn't investigated either. That was over a house. How do you think he'll react when he knows I'm spying for the CIA's face crumples and he grabs his temples in distress. Lorla places a hand on his shoulder. Look, I get it, Urs. It's scary. But only you can do this. And you are good at it. And we appreciate the risks you're taking. Lola reaches into his jacket pocket and hands over an envelope. Inside is a thousand dollars in cash. The sight of it seems to calm us. Okay, fine. But meeting in Malaysia will be more dangerous. Tahir knows a lot of people there. We'll take every precaution. We have a great team out there. Lawler ends the meeting confident his asset is back on track. But he's also worried they've underestimated Khan's ruthlessness. MI6 headquarters London in a secure meeting room, MI6 and CIA officers are discussing their joint operation against the Khan network. And MI6 is frustrated. What more is it you hope to find out? We have enough information. We need to act before Libya, North Korea and Iran's nuclear programs get too, too advanced. But his CIA counterpart shakes his head. Khan's network is like a hydra. It's no good cutting off the head you can see because there'll be 10 more you haven't spotted. What happened when Tahir's office was searched proves that they just start over somewhere else. The MI6 team remained poker faced at the mention of the search. Yes, but every day we delay, the risk increases. Libya is a particular concern for us. Gaddafi has a track record of enabling terrorists in this country. Don't worry. We have a plan to keep Libya in check. Early 2003 Shah Allah, Malaysia In Khan's new factory, Urs Tinna walks past a line of 30 workers with a roll of blueprints tucked on under his arm. The workers are wearing blue shirts and using high tech lathes to make centrifuge parts. Urs is impressed at how quickly they've understood the levels of precision required. In Dubai he had to train unskilled migrants. But these men have come from factories that made car parts or industrial tubing for the oil and gas industry. They'll be turning out hundreds of perfect centrifuge parts in no time. He feels sad that he's about to sabotage their excellent work for the CIA. He approaches to hear his office. Hi. I've got the new drawings for the centrifuge components AQ sent. But they're dirty. Urs rolls out the blueprints to hear. Stares at them with an uncomprehending look on his face. What do you mean they're dirty? They're smudged in places and some of the measurements are missing. Knows Tahir feels utterly lost when it comes to the technical detail. He prefers dealing with money and logistics. So what do we do? Send them back? Yeah, well I can scan them on the computer and clean them up manually. It's a straightforward job. Tahir hesitates. He'd prefer not to bother Khan with small problems like this. But after the search in Dubai, security is front of mind. I'm not comfortable with them being electronic. After I clean them up, I can print them and delete the electronic versions, but it'll take long. Not long. I can do it now. Urs desk is at the other end of the room, far enough away that Tahir cannot see his screen. After scanning the blueprints, Urs applies the design changes the CIA's nuclear experts gave him. Some of the changes are no more than a tenth of a millimeter, but it's enough to ensure the centrifuges will fail. He prints out the new, flawed blueprints and shreds Khan's originals. All done. I'll take these new ones down now. Tahir watches him with his habitual suspicion, but Urs knows the real problem will be when the centrifuges in Libya start to fail or explode. That will spark questions from Khan, who knows the designs better than anyone. Sooner or later he will find the cause. Urs just has to hope the CIA stops Khan before that happens. 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. You've 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 thespywhooudible.com a quick note about our dialogue we can't know everything that was said or done behind closed doors, particularly far back in history, but our scenes are written using the best available sources, so even if a scene or conversation has been recreated for dramatic effect, it's still based on biographical research. We use many sources in our research for this season, including Katherine Collins and Douglas France's books the Nuclear Jihadist and Fallout and Shopping for Bombs by Gordon Correro. The Spy who is hosted by me, Raza Jafre. It's a Yellow Ant production. This episode was written by Judy Cooper and researched by Louise Byrne, with thanks to Inner Bruce, Dee Cook and Paula Richardson. The senior producer was Jay Priest. The sound designer was Damian Pace. The lead sound designer was Joshua Morales. Music supervision by Scott Velasquez for Frison Sink for Yellow Amped. The story editor and executive producer was Tristan Donovan for Audible. The executive producers were were Estelle Doyle and Theodora Leludis.