Chapters
Shownotes Transcript
Gucharan Singh Bangu swings his climbing axe above his head until it catches on a patch of ice. He digs his crampons into the steep slope and pulls himself up, then swings his axe again. He's secured by safety ropes, but the wind is so strong he feels like at any moment he could be flung off the narrow ridge and into the abyss.
He sees a ledge above him and presses up towards it. He's freezing and exhausted, but he knows he's close to the next camp, where he can finally untether himself from the ropes and rest for a while. He pulls himself up over the ledge and sees two orange tents. He's made it.
He's reached Camp 3 on India's Nanda Devi, the Himalayan mountain whose name translates to the bliss-giving goddess. Bangu drops his backpack and lays down for a moment on the snow, trying to catch his breath. Up here, at 21,000 feet, there's not enough oxygen for any breath to feel like a full moon. He closes his eyes and listens to the howl of the wind.
Then, he opens them again and takes in the spectacular view. Spread across the horizon before him, as far as the eye can see, are the jagged, snowy peaks of the Himalayas. Bangu is a Sikh Indian from the Punjab region. A former police officer, he fell in love with climbing seven years ago and has been part of several major ascents.
Earlier just this year, he was part of the first Indian team to summit Mount Everest. But climbing Nanda Devi with its narrow ridgelines and steep cliff walls is more challenging than anything he's ever done. Bangu can't rest for long. He gets onto his knees and reaches over the edge to help up his climbing partner, an American named Lute Gerstad. Gerstad looks even more exhausted than Bangu feels.
After getting over the ridge, Gerstad staggers toward the tents. It's the afternoon of October 10th, 1965, and multiple climbing teams are spread all over the mountain, resting at base camp, acclimatizing at higher elevations, or carrying gear between camps. But there are three Sherpa climbers that Bangu is keeping an especially close eye on.
A few minutes later, those Sherpas arrive at Camp 3, each carrying a large backpack. Two Sherpas gently put their packs down near one of the tents. Then, they help the third Sherpa with his pack, which is bigger and bulkier. As soon as they set it down, steam rises from the snow under the pack. The Sherpas pull off their gloves and hold their bare hands over the backpack, huddled around it as if it were a campfire.
The warmth is enticing, but Bangu keeps his distance. He knows the source of that heat and wants no part of it. He's tried before to warn the Sherpas, but they won't listen. Instead, he crawls into one of the tents. He needs all the sleep he can get before they press on to Camp 4 in the morning.
Like many of the climbers, Bangu is suffering from the symptoms of low-grade altitude sickness: shortness of breath, nausea, coughing, and body aches. The team has bottled oxygen, which could help,
but they need to save it for higher altitudes. They still have over 4,000 feet to climb before they reach the site, where they'll set up what's inside those three bulky backpacks. Bangu crawls into his sleeping bag and closes his eyes. Outside, he hears the wind picking up. It sounds like a storm is coming. The bliss-giving goddess is not happy.
As he drifts off to sleep, he wonders how he wound up here on a top-secret mission to place a CIA spying device near the 25,000-foot summit of Nunda Devi. A device powered by what's inside that hot backpack. Seven radioactive fuel rods containing almost four pounds of plutonium.
In our fast-paced, screen-filled world, it can be all too easy to lose that sense of imagination and wonder. If you're looking for new ways to ignite your creativity and open your mind to fresh perspectives, then let Audible be your guide. Whether you listen to stories, motivation, or any genre you love,
you can be inspired to imagine new worlds, new possibilities, and new ways of thinking. There's more to imagine when you listen. Plus, as an Audible member, you'll get one title a month to keep from their entire catalog. If you're into mythology, then I recommend the title Norse Mythology by Neil Gaiman. He's an amazing storyteller that narrates this unique version of the Norse myths.
Listen along. New members can try Audible free for 30 days. Visit audible.com slash the odds or text the odds to 500-500. That's audible.com slash the odds or text the odds to 500-500. Against the Odds is brought to you by Progressive Insurance.
Whether you love true crime or comedy, celebrity interviews or news, you call the shots on what's in your podcast queue. And guess what? Now you can call them on your auto insurance too with the Name Your Price tool from Progressive. It works just the way it sounds. You tell Progressive how much you want to pay for car insurance and they'll show you coverage options that fit your budget. Get your quote today at Progressive.com to join their over 28 million drivers who trust Progressive.
Progressive Casualty Insurance Company & Affiliates. Price and coverage match limited by state law. From Lendery, I'm Cassie DePeckel, and this is Against the Odds.
In 1965, the CIA hired a joint Indian-American climbing team to scale Nunda Devi, the tallest mountain located entirely within India. The goal was to place a spying device on the mountain that could monitor the budding nuclear program of India's neighbor to the north, China. At the time, satellites and spy planes were unreliable.
The intelligence agencies of India and the U.S. thought Nanda Devi's peak would offer an unobstructed view into Xinjiang province, where the Chinese were testing their weapons. But Nanda Devi was a challenging mountain,
even for the world's best climbers. And they would be carrying a 125-pound nuclear-powered device up to 25,000 feet. This is the story of the team that attempted this unprecedented, top-secret mission. This is Episode 1, The Device. ♪
Captain Mohan Singh Kohli steps out of a transport plane and walks down a staircase onto the runway of Pallum Airport. He can hear applause and cheers above the plane's idling engines. It's hard for him to believe that the crowd gathered here on this hot tarmac in northern India is cheering for him. Not just for him, but for the entire climbing team that has just made India the fourth country to conquer the world's tallest mountain.
Mount Everest. It's June 23, 1965. Over the loudspeakers, Coley hears someone praising him and his team.
He squints into the sun and is amazed to see the Prime Minister of India pointing at him from the podium. He gazes out at the cheering crowd, taking it all in. Kohli is 33 years old and has been obsessed with climbing since his mid-20s, when he went on a three-day pilgrimage into the mountains of Kashmir. For Kohli, climbing means solitude and beauty, but also the chance to test the limits of his endurance and strength.
He never dreamed it would make him a national hero. But here he is, having led a team that has put India atop the tallest mountain on the planet. Not bad for a guy who's just five and a half feet tall, even wearing the turban that symbolizes his identity as a member of India's Sikh religious minority. Kohli steps onto the tarmac along with his friend and fellow climber, Gucharang Bangu.
a radio expert who helped coordinate the Everest climb. He turns to Coley with a sheepish look on his face. "All this for getting up a little hill, Captain? Let's just hope they're almost done. I want to get home and see my wife." Coley feels a tap on his shoulder and turns to see a man in a police uniform. The policeman shouts at him over the roars of the crowd.
Captain Kohli, can you come with me? Director Kao is waiting for you. Kohli is confused. Rameshwar Nath Kao is a high-ranking official in India's Intelligence Bureau. Kohli can't imagine what Kao would want with him now. But he knows that when Kao calls, you don't keep him waiting, even if it means leaving a celebration in your honor. Kohli follows the man behind the plane.
He sees Director Cow standing with his back to him, wearing a dark suit. "Director." Cow turns around and looks at Coley through dark sunglasses. "Captain Coley, good to see you. Congratulations on this remarkable achievement." "Thank you, sir. Climbing Everest is no tea party, I know. But are you ready for something a little more risky?" Now, Coley is really confused. What could be riskier than climbing Everest?
But before Koli can say anything, Kao continues. I know you just got home, but you're needed in the United States right away. Pack your bags and assemble a team. Kao hands him a plane ticket and walks away. Koli stands there, stunned. He hears someone on the microphone say his name again. The crowd on the tarmac erupts in applause, but Koli is barely listening. He ducks back under the plane and finds Bangu,
"Director Cal wants me to assemble my next team. Are you in? Wouldn't miss it." Kohli waves to the crowd. Then he and Bangu walk to a waiting town car. Tonight, Kohli will celebrate his achievement more quietly with his family. Tomorrow, he'll prepare for his next mission. Sonam Wangyal blinks to keep his eyes from drooping closed. He tries not to slouch in his metal folding chair.
The 23-year-old climber knows he needs to listen to the American man talking at the front of the room. But he's fighting a losing battle against sleep deprivation and jet lag. He still hasn't gotten used to how the Alaska sun barely sets in June. Wongiel is sitting in the officer's club at the Elmendorf Air Force Base in Anchorage, Alaska.
His fellow climber, Gucharan Bangu, sits on one side of him, his boss, Captain Kohli, on the other. Kohli recruited Wangyal Bangu and two other top Indian climbers for this mission.
All five worked together on the Everest expedition, and they'd become a close-knit unit. The man addressing them is Barry Bishop, a legendary climber who was part of the first team of Americans to summit Everest. As you may know, China surprised us by detonating its first atomic bomb nine months ago.
Wang Yao sits up straighter at the mention of the bomb. Over the past few years, India and China have had a few skirmishes near the Himalayan border, so he knows it's in India's best interest to know as much as possible about China's nuclear program. Still, he's wondering what any of this has to do with climbing. Bishop continues. We want to monitor China's capacity to launch a nuke by missile.
And the best way to do that is to put a sensor on top of a high Indian mountain along the border. That mountain is Kangchungjunga. And that's where you come in. Wang Yal can't believe what he's hearing.
At over 28,000 feet, Kanchenjunga is the third tallest mountain in the world. It's so imposing and dangerous that no Indian climber has ever stood atop it. Only a handful of people in the world have reached the summit, and at least a dozen others have died trying. It sounds like a suicide mission. We're sending you up there because you're the best climbers in the United States and India.
Then Bishop starts describing the so-called device. For a while, it's all technical jargon, and Wang Yael finds himself struggling to keep his eyes open.
But then, Bishop says something that makes him feel like he's been slapped on the cheek. Something I should also mention. This device is powered by plutonium, but it should be perfectly safe. Wangiel exchanges nervous glances with the other Indian climbers. Plutonium? Isn't that stuff supposed to be deadly? There's no chance of Wangiel nodding off now.
In fact, he knows that tonight, he's going to have trouble sleeping again. Captain Coley watches nervously as his boss lights a cigarette behind his immaculately neat wooden desk. It's August 1965.
And this is Coley's second meeting with Director Cow since his return from the Alaska training trip. And he's hoping this meeting goes better than the first one. Cow breathes out a cloud of cigarette smoke and leans across his desk. Good news, Captain. We have eliminated Kanchenjunga as an option.
Kohli lets out a sigh of relief. At their last meeting, he explained that climbing Kanchenjunga was an insurmountable challenge. The summit is too high and too precarious for setting up a 125-pound nuclear device.
Coley rattles off the list of alternative peaks he suggested in his report. But Cao taps the ashes from his cigarette and shakes his head. Those mountains have already been eliminated from contention.
The CIA doesn't think that Trachel and Nundakot are tall enough, and Kamate is too close to the Chinese border. Then which peak is it, sir? You will take the device up Nundadavy. Kohli takes a deep breath and tugs nervously at his beard. Nundadavy is more than 25,000 feet tall, almost five miles above sea level.
Coley also thinks it might be the most beautiful mountain in the world. If you try to imagine what a Himalayan peak looks like, it would be Nundadavi, a perfect snow-capped mountain sitting in almost regal isolation from the other peaks around it. Are your men up for this, Captain? They'll have to be, sir. After he leaves Cow's office, Coley pauses in the hallway.
Nanda Devi? Is cow serious? In India, the mountain is known as the bliss-giving goddess. But for climbers, that goddess can be deadly. In the past 30 years, only two teams have successfully reached its summit. Other expeditions have tried and failed. Some of those who failed never came back. Kohli sinks down on a bench in the hallway.
Even now, more than six weeks after the Everest climb, his muscles still ache, but there's no time to rest and recuperate. Cal wants them to start in just a few weeks. Gucharrong Bangu grunts as he hoists another load of gear onto his back. Then he begins the climb toward base camp on Nunda Devi.
He's carrying 45 pounds of supplies, a tolerable load at this altitude. Tolerable, except that this is now his third trek up the mountain that day, transferring supplies from the expedition's makeshift helipad to base camp. As a former police officer and veteran climber, Bangu is in excellent shape.
But he's reaching his limit. It's September 21st, 1965, and on-site preparations for the climb up Nunda Devi are underway. Helicopters are dropping off gear, including ice axes, rope, tents, flashlights, blankets, food, and more. Everything the team of Indian and American climbers will need. Walking beside Bangu is a sandy-haired American named Lute Gerstad.
Bangu respects him. Gerstad is one of the Americans who summited Everest in 1963. As the two men trudge up the mountain toward base camp, Gerstad offers some reassurance. I know this is a top-secret mission, but we'll tackle this the same way we would any other serious peak. Bangu appreciates that Gerstad treats him like an equal.
Bangu didn't get to summit Everest himself, but he was the Indian Everest team radio operator, coordinating the entire climb from high on the slopes. For this mission, they will establish a series of five camps, each progressively higher up the mountain. Climbers will ascend gradually in different teams of around a dozen men, moving back and forth up and down the mountain, letting their bodies adjust to the altitude.
When they're ready, they'll reach the fifth and final camp at 25,000 feet, just below the summit. Gerstad sounds so relaxed, it's like he's describing a trip to the market. When we get to 25K, we'll set up the spying device and aim it at China. Despite the Americans' laid-back attitude, Bangu knows that this is a rush job.
The CIA and Indian Intelligence Bureau don't want to miss getting visuals of the next Chinese nuclear test. They're also in a race against the seasonal climbing window. Once winter arrives in a month or two, they'll need to be off the mountain. Climbing in the Himalayas in winter is suicide.
There's another aspect of the mission that's been bothering Bangu. He knows the CIA will probably be more forthcoming with the American climbers than the Indians. So he asks Gerstad, Is the spying device dangerous? It's not supposed to be. Not if we do this right. We just need to climb like we always do. Bangu nods and adjusts his heavy pack. But the American's words are not reassuring.
Climb like we always do. That's easy to say. But this is the first time anyone has climbed this high while carrying plutonium. Some things are bound to go wrong. Mangu just hopes that the team is prepared for whatever unexpected challenges they're about to face.
When you're hiring, time is of the essence. That's why more than 3.5 million businesses worldwide use Indeed to find exceptional talent fast. Indeed's powerful matching engine works quickly, so quickly that, according to Indeed data worldwide, every minute 23 hires are made on Indeed.
But it doesn't stop there, because Indeed also helps you hire better. 93% of employers agree Indeed delivers the highest quality matches compared to other job sites, according to a recent Indeed survey. That's because their matching engine is always learning from your preference. So the more you use Indeed, the better it gets.
So let Indeed be your go-to for making great hires quickly and easily. And listeners of the show, get a $75 sponsored job credit to get your jobs more visibility at Indeed.com slash the odds. Just go to Indeed.com slash the odds right now and support our show by saying you heard about Indeed on this podcast. Indeed.com slash the odds. Terms and conditions apply. Need to hire? You need Indeed.
These days, it feels like we're all just on the hunt for ways to optimize our health and feel our absolute best. The only problem is, with all these supplements out there, it can be really tough to know which ones are actually worth your time and money. That's where today's sponsor Symbiotica comes in. Symbiotica is a premium supplement brand that's raising the bar when it comes to purity, potency, and efficacy. Their supplements are formulated with high-quality ingredients. That's why their formulas don't have any seed oils, preservatives,
toxins, artificial additives, or natural flavors. Plus, while most supplements can taste chalky or sulfuric, Symbiotica's supplements have amazing flavors like citrus lime, vanilla chai, or wild berry. I've been loving the magnesium supplement from Symbiotica. Being low in magnesium, I've made it a priority lately to take it consistently. I love how I can take it on the go and ensure I'm never missing a dose. Feel more energized, alert, and balanced with high-quality supplements that work.
Head over to Symbiotica.com and use code ODDS for 20% off and free shipping on your subscription order.
Gurcharan Bangu ducks to the side as a spray of rocks goes skidding by him. For five hours, he and his team have been trudging up a field of small, brittle stones on Nanda Devi, dodging little slides and scrambling to keep their balance as the rocks splinter under their boots. It's mid-afternoon on September 24th, 1965.
Bangu is part of an advanced team who are hiking up from base camp to establish Camp 1 at 19,000 feet. There are 11 of them, a mix of fellow Indians and Sherpas. The Sherpas come from a remote region of Nepal and are famous for their strong lungs and climbing expertise.
Their skill and toughness have brought them up every major peak in the Himalayas. Bangu stumbles a little as more rocks shatter under his feet. He's grateful that winter hasn't hit this part of the mountain yet. There isn't much snow cover and very little ice. But these damn rocks are really slowing them down. They've been climbing since 9am, following the southern ridge of the mountain,
This part of the climb isn't very steep, but it's still exhausting to haul any weight at this altitude. Which reminds him. He checks his altimeter. 18,700 feet. He hollers out to the group. 300 feet to go! Almost there! Bangu has been awake since 5:30 a.m. He likes being the first one up.
He tried to start a fire to make tea, but in the thin air, he couldn't get a flame going. Luckily, one of the Sherpas woke up and gave him a hand. Bangu looks up at the clear blue sky. It's a perfect day for climbing. He checks his altimeter again. 19,010 feet. A little ways ahead, he sees a rock shelf that seems like a good place to set up Camp 1. Bangu drops his pack down onto the rock shelf.
A few minutes later, his friend Sonam Wangyal joins him. Even the young, athletic Wangyal is huffing and puffing after this ascent. He pats Bangu on the shoulder. Good climb. They sit and lean against their packs, taking in the panorama of snow-capped peaks surrounding them. The rest join them over the next few minutes, all of them unshouldering their packs and plopping down, exhausted.
Their plan is to leave their gear here and head back to base camp. In a day or two, they'll come back to Camp 1 to set up tents. Each man will then rest for a few days at this higher altitude, letting their lungs get used to the thinner air. Then, they'll descend back to base camp to recuperate and climb a little higher on their next ascent.
They'll continue this process for weeks, going back and forth to the next camp and the next one, lugging gear and acclimatizing little by little. High altitude climbing is a marathon, not a sprint. After a half hour, everyone has unloaded their gear. It's time to start heading back down. Bangu steps carefully, trying to focus only on navigating the rocky terrain.
He pushes away the swirling doubt he has about this mission and the mysterious nuclear-powered device at the center of it. Instead, he thinks about the good night's sleep he'll have back at base camp. Dawanor Busherpa swings his hammer and pounds an anchor into a steep cliff face high up Nanda Devi. He runs his safety rope through a carabiner and then hooks it onto the anchor.
Then, he tugs on the rope to make sure the anchor is secure for the other climbers. One wrong move, one bad anchor, and you're tumbling down a 70-degree slope to an almost certain death. With a last tug, he's satisfied that it will hold.
He calls down to the other two Sherpas below. All good! His fellow climbers signal that they heard and head up towards him. It's October 2nd, and they're following a narrow ridge up the mountain between Camp 2 and what will hopefully be Camp 3. The climb adds only another 1,000 feet in elevation, but this is one of the toughest stretches of their ascent.
Norbu is one of the 20 Sherpas hired by Captain Kohli for the mission, bringing their total climbing team to about 30 people. Most of the other Sherpas are back at base camp, but Norbu was assigned to lead this advanced team to establish Camp 3. Last year, Norbu was part of the second team ever to scale Nunda Devi. Unlike the other climbers, he knows this mountain well.
He continues up the steep slope, hammering anchors and threading rope through them. Unlike the easier climbs of the past few days, there are pockets of snow and sharp ice on the rock here. Norbu is heading towards 21,200 feet. At this altitude, it's harder to breathe, harder to hydrate, harder to stay warm, harder to do everything.
This is the third day this group has been working on the route to Camp 3. It's slow, but they're making progress. Norbu runs more rope through an anchor and looks at his supply. He realizes he's down to just a few feet of rope. He calls down to his fellow Sherpas. Bring me out more rope! One of the Sherpas yells something back, but Norbu can't hear him over the wind.
Finally, the Sherpas use hand signals to indicate that they have the same problem. They're also running out of rope. Norbu can't believe it. Someone miscalculated how much they would need for this route.
He looks at his altimeter. Not quite at 21,000 feet. They're 200 feet short of their goal and out of rope. He radios back to Coley at base camp. Norbu to Coley. We're nearing camp three, but need more rope. Coley is even more livid than Norbu expected. What? How much do you need? I'd say at least 600 feet, just to be safe. Are you kidding me?
Okay, we'll send some rope up to you from base camp, but we need tents pitched at Camp 3 by tomorrow. Norbu understands Koli's frustration. The climb is running against a ticking clock. Climbing season at Nunda Devi ends in just a few weeks. That's when the snow starts falling and keeps falling, along with the temperature, making the mountain too dangerous even for experienced Sherpas.
If they can't complete this mission before then, they'll have to wait until the next climbing window, which won't be until next May. Feeling frustrated, Norbu clips himself into another safety rope and begins the slow descent back to Camp 2. It's morning on October 7th, and Captain Coley stands outside his tent at base camp, squinting up at a cloudy sky.
On the upper slopes of Nundadavi, it's been snowing hard for more than 24 hours, stalling their progress. The past few days have not gone as planned. Between the rope setback, a break to observe a Hindu holiday, and now this snowfall, they're way behind schedule. They haven't established Camp 4, much less Camp 5, where the spine device will be placed.
In the meantime, an American named Jim is about to scare the hell out of everyone. Jim works for the U.S. Atomic Energy Commission, and he's here to fuel the generator that powers the spine device. The components arrived a few days ago by helicopter. In a clearing away from the tents, Jim is sitting in front of a large olive green box with radiation warning labels and safety seals on each side.
A CIA case officer stands nearby, watching him closely. Neither American looks as nervous as Coley thinks they should. Jim puts his hands on the box. Captain Coley, I'm going to start the fueling process now. Can you please give me some room? Coley and the other climbers step back.
Jim breaks the safety seals of the box and gently opens the lid. Inside are seven cylindrical metal rods, each about five inches long. From his training in Alaska, Coley knows that each rod contains about half a pound of plutonium, nuclear fuel to power the generator. Jim carefully picks up one of the rods and places it inside the generator.
The generator itself is a mushroom-shaped piece of metal about a foot tall. Coley learned in Alaska that the fuel rods can generate 40 watts of power through heat emitting radioactive decay.
This type of generator was invented to be used in hard-to-reach locations to power things like weather stations or buoys or mountaintop spying devices. In theory, there's enough plutonium inside the generator to last for decades. Jim inserts the seventh and final fuel rod. Then he steps back and exhales. That's it. Coley steps forward and can feel the air around the device warming.
He then backtracks. He doesn't want to get any closer than he has to. Jim places the generator inside a specially rigged backpack. One of the Sherpas lifts it onto his back, and Jim places a white badge on the man's jacket. If there's a radiation leak, this badge will change color from white to blue, so you'll know you're in danger. Otherwise, the generator is perfectly safe. Coley is skeptical. What are we supposed to do if it does leak?
Jim exchanges a look with the CIA case officer before he answers. Well, a leak is extremely unlikely, but if it does happen, just get clear of the generator and contact our field office right away.
Coley watches the other climbers pick up their gear, including the remaining parts of the spine device, wires and cables, mounting posts, a six-foot antenna, and two box-shaped transceivers that will relay data to a station in a nearby town. Soon, the team is ready to begin their ascent to Camp One. Coley bids them farewell with a smile and some encouraging words.
But deep down, he's more nervous than ever. Jim made it all sound so simple, so safe. But the truth is, they're putting their trust in the sure-footedness of one Sherpa carrying a nuclear-powered device as they head up one of the tallest mountains in the world.
Gurcharan Bangu trudges up a slope through powdery snow that comes up almost to his knees. He's above Camp 3, over 23,000 feet up the south face of Nundadevi.
Here, the sheer rock walls below Camp 3 give way to vast snow fields that cling to the mountain's upper reaches. The snow fields require less technical climbing, but they can be just as dangerous. Bangu keeps a sharp eye out for any sign of hidden crevasses or avalanches. He's roped to Dawa Norbu Sherpa, who trails about 30 feet behind him.
Climbing in rope teams makes their progress slower, but safer. Still, Bangu wishes they could move faster. After three days straight of heavy snowfall, they finally have a clear weather window, and he's anxious to take advantage of it. Now 13 of them, Americans, Sherpas, and Indians alike, are heading to Camp 4 at 23,750 feet.
They'll be the first to spend a night there, acclimatizing. Bangu and Norbu are in the lead, so it's their job to make sure the way forward is safe. No crevasses or hidden drop-offs lurking under the snowpack. Everyone else follows behind them, including three Sherpas who are carrying the spying device. Bangu looks behind him to see two of the American climbers, Tom Frost and Sandy Bill.
They're roped together and keeping pace with Bangu and Norbert. Bangu has been impressed with the Americans so far, particularly these two. Frost is famous for his daring climbs at Yosemite, including the infamous El Capitan.
Bill made his name in the Pacific Northwest, climbing Mount Rainier and other peaks. Bangu is about to give the Americans a thumbs up, letting them know that it's safe to continue on. But then, without warning, he sees a steep patch of snow collapse underneath Bill. The American slips and is suddenly tumbling down the slope.
Bangu watches helplessly as Bill slides past Frost. Ideally, Frost should be able to use the safety rope to stop Bill's fall. But he's off balance, and Bill's momentum knocks him off his feet too. In just seconds, they've slid 100 feet. They're swinging their ice axes frantically, but neither finds a hold.
If they keep sliding, in another few hundred feet, they'll go over the edge. Frost screams. Bangu and Norbu exchange a horrified look. Bangu has never felt so powerless. From where they stand, there's nothing they can do to stop the two Americans from plummeting to their deaths.
This season, Instacart has your back to school. As in, they've got your back to school lunch favorites, like snack packs and fresh fruit. And they've got your back to school supplies, like backpacks, binders, and pencils. And they've got your back when your kid casually tells you they have a huge school project due tomorrow.
Sonam Wongyal looks up and sees two men sliding down the mountain toward him.
They're moving fast, but he can tell it's the two Americans, Tom Frost and Sandy Bill. Moments ago, they were far higher up the snowfield. Now, they're tumbling out of control, hurtling toward the edge of the ridge. Wangiel can see them flailing with their axes, trying to stop their fall, but their efforts are fruitless. Wangiel and his Sherpa climbing partner look at each other.
They are the only thing between these men and death. Wongiel only has time to say three words. I'll take top! The Sherpa nods. Then, roped together and moving as one, Wongiel and his partner run awkwardly through the deep powder, trying to get into the likeliest path of the fallen Americans. Seconds later, Frost slams into Wongiel.
Wang Yael tackles him, choking on the plume of blue snow that surrounds the falling American. Wang Yael is knocked off his feet, and for an agonizing moment, they tumble downhill together. Wang Yael is afraid that they'll both fall over the edge and into the abyss. But then, the rope connecting Wang Yael to his Sherpa partner goes taut, and they come to a stop.
Wangyal brushes snow off his goggles and looks around. A little higher up the slope, he sees the Sherpa lying in a heap with Sandy Bill. They've done it. The Americans are safe. Wangyal helps Frost to his feet. They're both covered in a thin layer of wet snow, like icing on a cake. Wangyal looks behind him and sees that the ridge's edge is no more than 100 feet away.
If they had gone over, it would have been the end. Frost gives Wangyal a big hug. "You saved my life." "Thank you." Wangyal isn't sure how to respond. He doesn't want to dwell on what could have happened. "My pleasure." "Shall we continue?" He wipes some snow from his coat and adjusts his pack. Near-death experiences or not, the climb has to go on.
Gurcharong Bangu is shivering in his tent. In all his years of climbing, he's never felt this cold before. It's October 15th, the day after he saw Tom Frost and Sandy Bill nearly tumble off the mountain.
That rescue was a lucky break, but since then, everything has gone wrong. Snow has been falling for 24 hours, and everyone has been stuck in their tents. Bangu is at Camp 4, at 23,750 feet. Six Sherpas are with him, and they're suffering too, despite their massive lung capacity.
His tentmate, Dawa Norbu Sherpa, looks gaunt and defeated, wrapped in his sleeping bag. He's alternately shaking, coughing, and gagging. Bangu feels all that and more. He's got a hammering headache and can't seem to catch his breath. He knows he should be hungry, but he can't muster up the energy to prepare even freeze-dried food.
He knows he's not thinking clearly due to the lack of oxygen. That's what elevation does to you. It forces you to fight against your own body. The site of Camp 5, where they plan to set up the spying device, is only 750 feet above them, but it might as well be on Mars at this point. Bangu can't imagine going any higher in this cold, in this weather.
In this pathetic state of exhaustion, Bangu radios down to base camp to update Captain Coley. Bangu to Coley, heavy snow up at Camp 4. No chance of reaching Camp 5 today. All of us suffering from the altitude. Copy that. Stay put. Stay warm. Stay warm.
It's a joke, but Bangu can't even laugh. He knows the mission is over if the weather doesn't improve by morning. It's October 15th, almost the end of climbing season. Soon, the snow and cold will only get worse. He shuts his eyes and tries not to succumb to despair.
At base camp, Captain Coley unzips his tent flap and steps into several inches of fresh powder. He looks up and sees dark storm clouds sending down more snow. It's accumulating fast. Slowly, he walks to the radio tent, trying to delay the inevitable. It's just after dawn on October 16th, and winter is here. That much is obvious.
Coley's team is now scattered up and down the mountain, in every camp up to Camp 4. Nobody has even made it to Camp 5 yet. He goes to the radio tent, where he nods to the CIA case officer. Then, he puts on his headphones and radios up to each camp to get a weather update. Maybe it looks better from where the climbers are. Dristad, how's the weather up there? Brutal.
It's a full-on whiteout. He gets similar reports from every camp, confirming what he already knew. There's heavy snow falling everywhere.
Coley weighs his options. He could tell his climbers to stay put and wait out this latest storm, but there's no guarantee that the weather will change. This late in the season, a storm like this could last for days or even weeks. And even if they could somehow manage to get to Camp 5, there's no way they could perform the complex, delicate task of setting up the spine device in these conditions. Coley knows what he has to do.
but he can't make the decision on his own. He turns to the CIA case officer. "I think we have to abort the mission. These conditions are just too dangerous. My climbers' lives are in danger." The case officer doesn't look happy, but he nods in agreement.
It's your call, Captain. Reluctantly, Coley radios Lute Gerstad in Camp 2. Coley to Gerstad. Relay a message to the higher camps. We're canceling the mission. Get everyone off the mountain as soon as possible. There's a long pause before Gerstad answers. In that silence, Coley feels like he can hear his disappointment. Roger that. Coming down.
For a moment, Kohli switches off the radio and puts his head in his hands. This is going to be the biggest failure of his career as a climber and as a proud Indian citizen. But he has no choice. He switches the radio back on and sends messages to his bosses in New Delhi.
Even though he's already calling his men down, he still needs to get official approval to abort the mission. Fortunately, the bosses have always deferred to his expertise, and this time is no different.
Minutes pass, then the radio crackles to life again. It's Gurcharan Bangu, who's still up at Camp 4. Bangu to Coley. Sir, what should we do with the device? Coley looks at the CIA case officer, who shrugs. Once again, it's his call. He radios back to Bangu. Leave it there. Secure it and leave it. As risky as this is, Coley knows it's the right decision.
Leaving the device at Camp 4 makes sense, given how hard it was to get there. And the device is designed to withstand extreme weather for years. Coley reassures himself that the plan is solid. His priority right now is not the device, but the lives of his men. They'll come back next spring, when it's safe to climb again. Then they'll make sure to finish the job.
At Camp 4, Gucharrong Bangu wraps a nylon climbing rope around a cardboard box. He ties the rope around a jagged rock and tugs as hard as he can. It feels secure. He then connects the rope to the rock with anchors and carabiners. He's just gotten off the radio with Coley, who told him to secure all the spine device parts and leave them where they are.
All told, the device is split among five boxes, including one that contains the generator and plutonium rods. They're securing them as best they can inside a little indentation in the rock.
where they'll be less exposed to the elements. The Sherpa climbers take the other boxes and do the same as Bangu, tying them to rocks and securing them. The wind and snow have died down a bit, but between the cold, the fatigue, and the altitude, every movement hurts. Bangu's legs are stiff and aching.
His hands are like anvils. But he knows the device should be safe here. India's intelligence bureau has forbidden any climbing on Nanda Devi until after the mission is completed. Not that anyone would be crazy enough to try climbing here in winter anyway.
The device won't corrode or break. It's built to withstand this extreme environment. Still, the generator is filled with plutonium. Bangu doesn't know much about radiation, but he knows it can be dangerous. And he doesn't want to be responsible for a nuclear accident in his own country, on top of the mountains he loves.
So he pulls on the rope he's tied for the third time. He wants to be absolutely certain that it's secure. Bangu gives a thumbs up to his fellow climbers. It's time to go. He connects the safety rope to his partner and begins the long descent toward base camp. Before he goes over the ridge, he takes one last look at the boxes holding the spying device. Bangu feels uneasy about this plan.
leaving all this top-secret equipment unattended in one of the most inhospitable places on Earth. But he tells himself that Captain Kohli knows what he's doing. And with that, Bangu climbs over the ridge, and the device, with its nuclear power generator, disappears from view. This is episode one of our three-part series, "Himalayan Spy Mission."
A quick note about our scenes. In most cases, we can't know exactly what was said, but everything is based on historical research. If you'd like to learn more about this story, we recommend Spies in the Himalayas by M.S. Coley and Kenneth Conboy, as well as An Eye at the Top of the World by Pete Takeda. I'm your host, Cassie DePeckel. Sean Raviv wrote this episode. Our editor is Steve Fennessy.
Our audio engineer is Sergio Enriquez. Sound design is by Joe Richardson. Our cultural consultant is Harmeet Singh. Produced by Emily Frost, Matt Olmos, and Alida Rosansky. Our senior producer is Andy Herman. Our managing producer is Matt Gant. Our senior managing producer is Tanja Thigpen. Our executive producers are Jenny Lauer-Beckman, Stephanie Jens, and Marsha Louis. For Wondering. Wondering.
What's up, guys? It's your girl Kiki, and my podcast is back with a new season. And let me tell you, it's too good. And I'm diving into the brains of entertainment's best and brightest, okay? Every episode, I bring on a friend and have a real conversation. And I don't mean just friends. I mean the likes of Amy Poehler, Kel Mitchell, Vivica Fox. The list goes on. So follow, watch, and listen to Baby. This is Kiki Palmer on the Wondery app or wherever you get your podcasts.