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Wondery Plus subscribers can binge full seasons of The Spy Who early and ad-free on Apple Podcasts or the Wondery app. July 1961, Moscow. Oleg Penkovsky walks into the park on Svetnoy Boulevard. He moves through the crowds enjoying the brief Moscow summer, his eyes scanning their faces for Janet Chisholm, his new MI6 contact.
He has only ever seen her in a black and white photograph. Now he needs to spot her amid the bustling crowds. He sees her at the end of a row of trees, slightly away from the throng. He makes his way towards her, conscious that either of them may be being followed by the KGB. Chisholm is sitting with her baby in a pram as her two other young children play nearby. Penkovsky draws near, stops and smiles at the kids as they play.
"Privét!" "I'm terribly sorry, we don't speak Russian." "Mě, mě čavorím po russki." "Ah, English. Excellent. I am sorry. You have very charming children." "Thank you very much." "Perhaps I may offer them some sweets?" "These are drazhes, the one that every Soviet child loves." Pinkovsky holds out a box of traditional Soviet candies.
But there are no kids' treats in this box. Instead, it is filled with the rolls of film he has taken of top-secret military documents. Chisholm takes the box, bends down, and expertly switches it with an identical box full of actual sweets she has hidden in her pram. That is very kind, thank you. Come, children, the nice man has offered you some sweets. What do we say? Spasibo! Spasibo!
Penkovsky smiles as the children gather around excitedly. He crouches down, reaches out his hand and, as if by magic, makes a coin appear from behind the oldest child's ear. The other kids burst into laughter at the trick. He gives them a mischievous wink. Chisholm hands him back the decoy box of sweets and he walks away, impressed with the ice-cold competence with which she executed the exchange.
And as he waves goodbye, Chisholm goes back to rocking her pram, which now contains a baby, some toys, and the top-level secrets of the Soviet nuclear missile program.
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On the last episode, Russian intelligence officer Oleg Penkovsky visited London and spilled an unprecedented number of Soviet military secrets to MI6 and the CIA. His intelligence reset Western understanding of the nuclear standoff with the USSR, giving US President John F. Kennedy confidence to face down Soviet leader Nikita Khrushchev in the struggle for control of West Berlin.
Now Penkovsky is back in the USSR on a mission to send more secrets to the West. But with Moscow under tight surveillance from the KGB, he must tread carefully to avoid detection. This is The Spy Who Diffused the Missile Crisis. Episode 3. Maneuvers in Moscow. July 1961. Moscow.
Penkovsky walks into the office of his commanding officer, a general in the GRU, the Soviet Military Intelligence Agency. You wanted to see me, General? Yes, I have good news. Headquarters is impressed with the intelligence you obtained about high-temperature steel manufacturing during your visit to Britain. And in recognition of this work, you are hereby promoted to Deputy Chief of the Foreign Department. Penkovsky smiles.
The information he brought home may have been supplied to him by British intelligence, but he feels vindicated by what he feels is an overdue promotion. Thank you, General. I will not let the Motherland down. I am sure you won't, which is why I want you to lead the State Scientific Committee's visit to London later this month. We have specific information we want you to gather while you're there. The details are in this letter. Yes, General.
Penkovsky takes the letter and moves to leave, but the general raises his hand. One more thing. GRU director Seraf will be in London at the same time with his family. He will be busy and has asked that you escort his wife and daughter during their time in London. This is a great honor, Penkovsky. It means headquarters is taking notice of you. Penkovsky nods and leaves with a huge smile on his face.
His star is rising within the GRU, and with it, his access to the high-level secrets that Britain and America crave. Two weeks later, CIA headquarters, Washington, D.C. In a secure meeting room, CIA Director Alan Dulles leafs through the latest document smuggled out of Moscow by Penkovsky. And with each page, his excitement grows. Dulles is clinging to his job by his fingernails.
President John F. Kennedy's been in the White House just six months, but he already hates Dulles' guts. Three months ago, Dulles convinced Kennedy to back the CIA's plan to stage a coup in Cuba. But the CIA-backed invasion unraveled at the Bay of Pigs, embarrassing Kennedy before the entire world.
So now, Dulles is hunting for a way to avoid getting fired, and the avalanche of intelligence being sent west by Penkovsky seems like his best hope. He looks up from the document, almost unable to suppress a smile. This is incredible. The entire Soviet Armed Forces Tactical Operations Bible. Shame he couldn't get us the latest version. Dick Helms, the head of Clandestine Operations, responds, Sir, that is the latest version.
It's dated 1958. It's three years old. Penkovsky reports that it is the current version. The previous version was written in 1948. Incredible. The president and the Pentagon will be delighted with this. It's even got diagrams of their offensive and defensive formations and how fast their armies can advance before their logistics break down. Dulles turns to the man sat to his right.
James Jesus Angleton, the CIA's counter-terrorism chief. Angleton, what do you make of this? Can we trust what we're getting here? Angleton nudges his heavy framed glasses up his nose. He's a lanky man with long spidery fingers and a paranoid streak a mile wide. I don't believe this is a double cross. It's impossible the Soviets would feed us this level of information. I sense a butt coming. Yes.
"'While I don't think this is a deception operation, I still don't trust it.' "'Why not?' "'I think Penkovsky's a crank or an anarchist who, for some obscure personal reason, wants to lure us into a war with Russia.' Helms interjects. "'I agree there's a risk he is selecting information that confirms his own personal biases, but everything we can verify does check out.' Angleton crosses his arms. "'Has he done a polygraph test yet?'
Dulles nods. A few days later, MI6 headquarters, London.
MI6's senior agent handler, Harold Shergold, sits across a desk from Joe Buleek, the CIA's head of Soviet operations, with a look of horror spreading across his face. I beg your pardon? You want Penkovsky to do what? A polygraph test.
It is CIA standard procedure for all new intelligence assets. Penkovsky is giving us unprecedented information, completely overturning all previous assumptions about Soviet nuclear strategy. Our superior officers want to check if he's genuine. I'm sorry, but these so-called lie detectors are absolutely unproven.
Besides, if you're a real intelligence officer, you figure out if a man is telling the truth by looking him in the eye and cross-checking his information. You don't delegate moral responsibility to a machine. My orders come straight from Washington. Well, we're not in Washington. Look, you and I, we know Penkovsky. He's motivated by vanity and status.
If we start accusing him of lying and force him to do lie detector tests, he'll be insulted. We'll lose him as an asset. I'm sorry, but you brought us in to handle communication with Penkovsky, and I simply will not allow this. Gah! This is why joint operations are a bad idea. On that, at least we can agree. The two men eye each other across the desk, but Shergold's not going to budge.
As long as MI6 is the service running Penkovsky in Moscow, he gets to call the shots. And the CIA will just have to hope that Penkovsky doesn't have a secret agenda. A few days later, and in a safe house in West London, Penkovsky's telling his MI6 and CIA handlers what he knows about the Soviets' plans for Berlin.
CIA officer George Kieswalter presses Penkovsky for more detail. Let's go back to what you said about the plans to block the road to West Berlin. You said if the West tries to get round the roadblock by air, those planes will be shot at. Who told you this? The artillery chief of staff. I had dinner with him. He told me when the Berlin Agreement with East Germany is signed, a state of alert will be declared and all roads to Berlin blockaded.
You will then need East Germany's permission to travel in and out of West Berlin, including by air. Penkovsky tops up his empty wine glass, then continues. If the Americans, British and French do not comply and try to force their way to Berlin, the East Germans will start firing.
And since they are not strong enough, Soviet forces will join the attack. Why would Khrushchev risk such an escalation? He thinks that he won over Berlin at the conference in Vienna and that he can now push Kennedy around. The West must call his bluff if he tries to block access to Berlin. CIA officer Joe Bulek cuts in. Let's talk about your own situation. Any sign that you are under suspicion? No more than usual.
Within the GRU, I have my boss's support. They have promoted me, entrusted me with looking after the director's family while here in London. But the KGB. The KGB is different. They are still obsessed about my father because he fought against the communists in the Civil War. They're like this, like dogs with bones. They won't let it go because that is how they are. Could the KGB find something?
There is nothing to find. I never knew my father, and he is long dead. But his actions taint me all the same. Because of this, there are forces working against me, and if they win, maybe I will not even be allowed to meet you in Paris in September. I may be posted to the Far East, never to meet with you again. Bulik tries to lighten the mood. If you get posted to Vladivostok, we'll send a submarine from our bases in Japan to come and rescue you. Heh.
"'What I need is more of the gifts that I gave you on that list. The perfume, the whiskey. This is what will keep me in favour with my commanders. Also, more intelligence about British steel production. These are the only things that will keep me safe.' MI6 case handler Harold Shergold stands and puts a reassuring hand on Penkovsky's shoulder. "'We will get you all that. No need to worry. But we also have two gifts for you.'
Not that we can let you take these ones home with you. Shergold walks to the safehouse's closet and returns with two generals' uniforms, one British and one American. Penkovsky's face lights up.
Ah, хорошо! This is wonderful, my friends. Look, the American one even has medals. I like that one more. You will see, my friends, I will earn this honor. I will pass you more information than you have ever seen. Without warning, and right in front of the stunned CIA and MI6 team, Penkovsky strips down to his underwear to try on the uniforms.
He admires himself in the mirror and demands that pictures be taken before embracing each member of the team in turn. Sunday, August 13th, 1961. President John F. Kennedy's cabin cruiser, the Marlin, cuts through the clear blue waters just off Hyannis Port, Massachusetts. The president has been entertaining friends cruising around the bay, but their outing has been cut short by an urgent summons from shore.
As the boat pulls in fast, Kennedy sees his intelligence aide, General Chester Clifton, waiting on the pier. The President jumps down from the boat and Clifton immediately hands him a manila envelope. The two walk quickly together towards the boathouse. I'm sorry to cut short your trip, Mr. President, but this is an emergency. What's going on, Chester?
Well, sir, I don't quite know how to say this, but the Soviets have started building a wall straight across Berlin. They're cutting off the western half of the city. When did this happen? They started it overnight, sir. At the moment, it's just barbed wire and cinder blocks, but we suspect they intend to make the structure more permanent. I've already spoken to the State Department and the Joint Chiefs of Staff.
And, sir, if you make the call, we have tanks and troops ready. We can knock down the wall before it gets too built up. Kennedy stops in his tracks to consider his options. Clifton looks on, knowing that if the president orders American tanks into action, it could begin a chain of events leading the world to nuclear war. After a moment, Kennedy looks up. No, if they've built a wall to divide Berlin, that means they're not invading.
Khrushchev wants to look strong while playing it safe. Kennedy begins walking fast towards the boathouse. Clifton scrambles to keep up as the president speaks with controlled urgency. I won't risk war over this. But what I do want to know is why the hell didn't we have a warning this was going to happen? Where was our intelligence on this? Get me Alan Dulles on the phone. I need to talk to the CIA.
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August 19th, 1961, West Berlin. US Vice President Lyndon Johnson steps onto an outdoor stage and walks towards a podium decorated with dozens of microphones. Before him, thousands of West Berliners are standing in the streets ignoring the rain. And they're all looking to him for the same thing: hope.
It's been six days since communist East Germany began building a war around capitalist West Berlin. Now, the western half of the city is entombed, hemmed in by concrete, brick and barbed wire. Johnson knows he needs to show these people and the world that America won't cut and run. Johnson stands before the microphones and addresses the crowd.
I have come across the ocean to Berlin by the direction of the President of the United States, John F. Kennedy. He wants you to know, and I want you to know, and the United States wants you to know that the pledge he has given to the freedom of West Berlin and to the right of Western access to Berlin is firm.
The communists are trying to interpose barbed wire, bayonets and tanks against the force of history. But this island of freedom does not stand alone. With the help of other free men, this crisis can be surmounted. Freedom can prevail and peace can endure. Johnson leaves the stage to roars of approval. But it's not just the words that are reassuring them.
It's also the knowledge that 1,500 US troops are currently heading through East Germany along the lone highway that links West Germany to West Berlin. It's a show of strength designed to ensure the West still has access to West Berlin. Penkovsky warned that the communist forces would attack if the troops try to force their way into the city. But thanks to Penkovsky, Kennedy also knows that the US has the nuclear upper hand.
So he sent the troops to Berlin to see if the communists tried to stop them entering the western half of the city. But when the troop convoy reaches the checkpoint outside the city, the East Germans wave them through. There's no need to fight their way into Berlin and no need to start World War III. The West still has access to West Berlin, and that's good enough for Kennedy. He's not out to tear down the Berlin Wall.
He's already concluded that the wall really exists to stop East Germans escaping communism. And better a wall than a war. September 1961, Paris, France. Joe Boulik and George Kiesvolter of the CIA and Michael Stokes of MI6 have spent three weeks cooped up in a tiny apartment.
They've been waiting for Oleg Penkovsky, whose Soviet trade delegation's visit to the French capital keeps getting delayed. Tensions are running high. Not only has the construction of the Berlin Wall raised the pressure across Europe, but living in such close quarters is also fraying nerves between the three men. Bulik looks up from his newspaper and sees the pile of empty Perrier bottles near the bin and scowls at Kiesvolter.
George, I told you to get rid of all these empty bottles. This place is a stye. Why don't you get rid of them then? Because I'm running this operation and I told you to do it. And while we're on that, you were assigned to find girls for Penkovsky when he gets here. You know what keeps him happy. Have you done anything on that score? Keyes-Volter jumps to his feet enraged.
I'm an intelligence officer, not a goddamn pimp. Why don't the Brits find him his hookers? They seem to be able to do it in London. MI6's Michael Stokes, who's sprawled out on one of the sofas, attempts to calm tensions. Gents, our work often involves less than savoury tasks. We have taken on rather a lot of that in London and thought it might be your turn here in Paris. Bulik and Kieswalter ignore him and continue glaring at each other.
But before tensions can rise any higher, there is the tell-tale double knock at the door. Penkovsky has finally arrived. Stokes opens the door.
And Penkovsky bursts in like a hurricane, brimming with energy and talking fast. Gentlemen, this is a disaster. I could have warned you about the wall in Berlin four days before it happened. We could have stopped it from being built. We cannot go on working like this. We must establish an emergency signal for these crisis situations. Stokes tries to contain Penkovsky's frenetic energy. It's good to see you, Oleg. We were worried you weren't going to be allowed to come this time. Yes.
It is glorious to be in Paris, the most beautiful city in the world. I trust, my friends, that you have arranged some company for me while I am here. Bulik and Stokes turn and look at Kiesvolter, who looks more uncomfortable than ever at the seedy mission he's been given. Later that night, Stokes sits with Kiesvolter in a small Parisian bar. He's brought Kiesvolter here to let him blow off some steam, but now Kiesvolter's drunk and getting angry.
The stuff Bulik's asking me to do. I don't even feel like an intelligence officer anymore. I'm somewhere between an errand boy and a pimp. This case, Penkovsky, I should be the one in command. Bulik doesn't know what he's doing. Stokes winces at Kiesvoldt using Penkovsky's name in public. It's a clear breach of protocol. He tries to calm the situation.
George, this is just the job. That's how it is sometimes. We don't get to choose our roles or our commanding officers. Maybe we've both had enough, don't you think?
He turns to the rest of the bar and shouts, I'll have another drink if I want one. Who else here wants a drink? The round's on me. The other drinkers let out a small cheer as the drunk American staggers to the bar to lay his money down. Stokes jumps up and takes Keyes Volta by his shoulder. George, you're drawing attention. You need to stop this right now.
I'm drawing attention. How about Mr. I'm the greatest Russian spy who ever lived? He's allowed to go to clubs and run around with hookers, but we've got to shut up. Stokes is shocked at Kiesvolter's loose talk, but to intervene now would mean physically wrestling Kiesvolter out of the bar, creating even more of a scene. He falls silent, but he knows he will have to report this incident.
It's two weeks later, and at the apartment in Paris, Penkovsky's attending another debrief with the MI6 and CIA team. But he immediately notices Kieswalter's absence. You are one less today. Where is George? George was transferred to another assignment. Penkovsky narrows his eyes and nods, realizing that something must have happened. But he has not been told what. Buley curries to move the conversation on.
We thought about what you said about being able to contact us in an emergency, and you're right. So we've prepared a protocol for you to make contact with. We call it the Distant Protocol. Here's how it works. In an emergency, and I mean a nuclear emergency, if missiles are about to fly, then you call two numbers in Moscow that we'll provide you with. One will be for us in the CIA, the other for the British.
When the calls are answered, you say nothing. Instead, you blow into the mouthpiece three times like so. Then you hang up, call the same number again one minute later, and blow three more times before hanging up. You do the exact same thing for both phone numbers. I understand. What happens once I make the calls?
If we get the distant signal, we'll check the dead drop on Pushkinskaya Street. The one from my first letter? Correct. Penkovsky smiles, happy that his suggestion has been taken seriously. Excellent. It is crucial that I am able to send you signals in a crisis. Penkovsky then glances over at Shergold, who looks less than impressed with this protocol. Harold, you don't like this system? I think in a nuclear emergency we need absolute clarity.
and this particular way of signalling leaves too much room for panic and overreaction. Bulik cuts in quickly to allay these concerns. Our priority is that you are able to get critical information to us fast. After what happened with the wall in Berlin, I'm sure you agree. Penkovsky nods, but then his thoughts turn to his own safety and the risks he is taking. And what about me and my family?
"'If it becomes necessary, in an emergency, do we go to your embassy?' Buleek hesitates. This is difficult territory. He steals himself before replying. "'That's not an option, Oleg. Our embassies can only provide extraction for diplomatic staff. You'd just be a prisoner in the building. If the worst came to the worst, we'd have to try and smuggle you out through either the Baltic coast or the Black Sea.'
So you are saying it would be up to me to get to the Baltic or the Black Sea? Maybe I could do that, but my family, no, they would never make it. Oleg, we will do everything in our power to protect you. Penkovsky nods, but he knows this is an empty promise. Once he is back in Moscow, he will be on his own. And if the Soviet authorities begin to suspect him, no one will be coming to his rescue.
A week later, Paris. British businessman and MI6 agent Greville Wynne walks Penkovsky through Orly Airport. As they near the gate, Wynne checks to make sure they are alone, then stops and grasps Penkovsky's shoulder. Oleg, when you get back to Moscow, you must be careful. Janet, the woman you meet, she has diplomatic immunity. If she's caught, the worst that will happen to her is she'll be deported back to England. You and I, we don't have that.
Greville, I know this. I know that if I am caught by the KGB, I am gone. You know, you don't have to go back. You've already done more than enough for them. You've given them plenty already. You would be within your rights to not get on that plane, to just defect right now. Pinkovsky pauses, considering the options before him. The chance of safety and a new life in the West. Then he shakes his head. No. No.
"I have a family. I must go back. I understand, Oleg. I do. But please be careful." The two men shake hands and Penkovsky moves off towards the gate. But after a few steps, he stops in his tracks and puts down his suitcase. Wynne looks at him hopefully. "Oleg?" Penkovsky stands still for a moment. Images of a new life flash through his mind. Then he picks up his suitcase once again and straightens his back.
No, my friend. I have work to do. I will see you again in Moscow. Wynne watches Penkovsky walk through the gate and out onto the foggy tarmac to board his flight back to Russia. Ready to pop the question? And take advantage of 30% off? The jewelers at BlueNile.com have got sparkle down to a science with beautiful lab-grown diamonds worthy of your most brilliant moments. Their lab-grown diamonds are independently
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Be inspired to explore your inner creativity with Viola Davis' memoir, Finding Me. Find what piques your imagination with Audible. New members can try Audible free for 30 days. Visit audible.com slash imagine or text imagine to 500-500. That's audible.com slash imagine or text imagine to 500-500. October 1961, Moscow.
Janet Chisholm browses the shelves at the second-hand store that she and Penkovsky use as a cover for their meetings. It is near to where she takes regular ballet classes, so for any KGB surveillance teams that are following her, it is only natural that she would go shopping on the way back to her home inside the British Embassy. But today, Chisholm is concerned. She believes that she and Penkovsky are meeting too often.
He has been passing her documents and rolls of film almost every week, to the point where it is beginning to feel dangerous. Through the window, she sees Penkovsky walk by the shop, without registering her in any visible way. She exits the store and follows him at a distance. Eventually, he ducks into the stairwell of a large apartment building. She follows.
Penkovsky spots an old lady emerge from her apartment and start walking down the corridor towards them.
Without a moment's warning, Penkovsky grabs Chisholm and kisses her passionately, making it look like they're simply two lovers in an embrace. As the old lady passes and they are pressed together, Chisholm feels Penkovsky slip yet another box full of photographs of Soviet secrets into her coat pocket. It's a couple of months later and in Moscow, Penkovsky's been summoned to the office of his GRU commander.
At ease, comrade. We need to discuss your upcoming mission to Cyprus. It's imperative that... Enter. General, you're needed urgently by the Third Directorate. Please come immediately.
The general rolls his eyes before looking back to Penkovsky. Apologies, Colonel. I'd better go see what this is about. Wait here. It won't take long. The general leaves the office, closing the door behind him. Penkovsky pauses for a moment. Then, on an impulse, reaches into his pocket for his Minox camera. Moving fast, but with quiet precision, he begins snapping photos of the classified reports lying on the general's desk.
His eyes flick urgently between the documents and the door handle, knowing that if the general were to suddenly return and catch him in the act, it would be his death sentence. A few days later, GRU officers Moscow. Penkovsky sits at his desk, willing himself to maintain his composure. Sitting opposite him in his office is a KGB officer and he wants answers. We have unearthed some new information about your father.
Penkovsky feels the knot in his stomach unwind slightly. He feared the KGB had uncovered his spying for the West. But the news that the KGB is investigating his father again is still a worry. Penkovsky's father fought and died fighting to stop the communists taking over Russia. And in the eyes of the KGB, that's reason enough to distrust Penkovsky.
The KGB man observes Penkovsky for a moment, as if searching for the slightest trace of anxiety, and then continues. We went to the place where you claimed your father was buried, but we found no sign of his grave. Why is that? I don't know. I only know what my mother told me, that my father died in 1919, one month after I was born. And yet we cannot find his grave or a death certificate. Penkovsky says nothing.
He knows his commanders in the GRU support him. He can only incriminate himself by getting drawn into speculation. The KGB man leans forward. Maybe we cannot find this evidence because your father is still alive and living in another country. Is that a question? No, comrade, just speculation. Based on the available evidence, or lack of it...
The KGB man stands. "Hopefully we will solve this mystery soon, so that it doesn't interfere with your planned visits to Seattle and Cyprus. Good day, comrade." Penkovsky feels relief as the KGB man departs. But the veiled threat to block his travel is a problem. Penkovsky hoped to use those trips to meet with the CIA and MI6 and work out a plan to defect with his family. Now he might not get a chance.
He knows he can't do anything about that, but if the KGB hope to remove him from his post, then he must redouble his efforts to get secrets to the West before that can happen. January 1962, MI6 headquarters, London.
In a secure room, CIA officer Joe Buleek anxiously sits across from MI6's Harold Shergold. Buleek's flown to London to raise his concerns that Penkovsky is becoming reckless and taking unnecessary risks that could put the whole operation, and his own life, at risk.
Harold, I just feel Penkovsky and Chisholm are meeting too often. No one can operate like that in Moscow and expect not to get noticed. There's just too much surveillance there. I can see your point, Joe. But he's an experienced intelligence officer who knows how to look out for surveillance. And our woman on the ground there says she's very rarely tailed. Can't they just meet every couple of weeks instead of every week? She's already suggested that. And Penkovsky said no. And she's not going to do that.
Whatever we may think of his decision-making, we have to let him lead or risk losing him as an asset altogether. Bulik sinks back in his chair and rubs his temples in frustration. This is why he hates joint operations with other intelligence agencies. Shergold leans forward. I suppose there is something else I should mention at this point. Mrs. Chisholm is pregnant and will be returning to England to have the child.
so we will have to arrange a new contact for Penkovsky in Moscow. How the hell are we going to communicate that to him? I suppose our best opportunity will be during his engineering delegation's upcoming trip to Cyprus. It'll be our best shot at having a conversation with him away from Soviet surveillance. Bulik nods in assent, but once again rubs his forehead in frustration at how dangerous and complex this assignment is turning out to be. The following Monday...
Janet Chisholm stands in the doorway of a concrete Soviet apartment block in central Moscow. She sees Penkovsky walking towards her, but, as usual, gives no visible sign of recognition. He walks right by her and, with the slightest movement of his hand, passes her a small box full of rolls of undeveloped film. As he continues walking, she sets off in the opposite direction. It's a classic brush contact maneuver, and they've executed it perfectly.
After walking about 20 meters, Penkovsky stops, crouches and pretends to tie his shoelaces as he checks the street. Then his blood runs cold. He sees a brown sedan making an illegal turn before driving slowly after Chisholm. Inside the car are two men and the one in the passenger seat is watching her intently. Penkovsky knows who they are. They are KGB and they're on Chisholm's tail.
And if they're onto her, it's likely he's also being watched. What he doesn't know is how much they know. He just hopes he's spotted them in time to cover his tracks, because if they've already uncovered his betrayal, he's a dead man walking. Wondery Plus subscribers can binge full seasons of The Spy Who early and ad-free on Apple Podcasts or the Wondery app.
From Wondery. This is the third episode in our series, The Spy Who Diffused the Missile Crisis. 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've used various sources to make this series, including Dead Drop by Jeremy Duns and The Spy Who Saved the World by Gerald Schechter and Peter Derry-Abin. The Spy Who is hosted by me, Indra Varma. Our show is produced by Vespucci and written and story edited by Yellow Ant for Wondery. For Yellow Ant, this episode was written by JS Raffaele, story edited by Karen Lowe and researched by Louise Byrne.
Our managing producer is Jay Priest. For Vespucci, our senior producers are Natalia Rodriguez and Philippa Gearing. Our sound designer is Ivor Manley. Thomas Currie is the supervising producer. Music supervisor is Scott Velasquez for Frisson Sync. Executive producers for Vespucci are Johnny Galvin and Daniel Turkin. Executive producer for Yellow Ant is Tristan Donovan.
Our managing producer for Wondery is Rachel Sibley. Executive producers for Wondery are Estelle Doyle, Chris Bourne, Morgan Jones and Marshall Louis. Wondery.
