Spy Cops | Undercover | 1
45:03 Share

Hello, Matt. Hello, Alice. No, ah, no, please don't call me that anymore. I'm now going by Shark. Um, why? It's just safer this way. It's a covert story this week. Top secret. Just keeps my cover. Okay, do I get a code name? Sadly, it's too late for you. You actually already know too much. Right, so what happens to me? I'm so sorry, Matt. July 2010, the Dolomite Mountains, Italy. Mark Kennedy loads his bike into the back of his camper van.

He's parked high up on the mountain pass, above the cloud line. In the distance, snowy peaks catch the last of the day's sunlight. Mark is with his girlfriend Amy on a climbing holiday. It's their six-year anniversary, and Amy wanted to celebrate. It's been a tough year, and she's stood by him through it all. In some ways, she's the one person he still trusts.

He's excited about the surprise dinner he's planned and is about to tell Amy, but she's acting strangely. He can't work out why. Probably because for your sixth anniversary, you've taken her up a mountain instead of to Paris for fine wine, truffles, steak, champagne. Instead, he climbs into the driver's seat and turns on the engine.

As he shifts into gear, the van lurches forward. They almost veer off the road. "Pay attention, Mark. You're gonna kill us." Mark regains his composure. He guides the vehicle around the road's hairpin bends. Amy sits next to him in silence. "Maybe a drink will help. Calm the nerves." "Fancy an aperitif? There's a bar a short walk down the mountain." "Sure." Mark steers the van into a nearby car park and kills the engine.

The bar's terrace is a world away from the protest camps they spend time in at home. Those are dirty, rough and ready. Places where it smells like most people haven't showered for a few days. Or a few years. Sounds a bit like the British Scandal studio. On a good day. Nothing like where they are now. Mark waves a waiter over, orders two Campari sodas. Then he turns to Amy, but she's staring out into the distance. He's never seen her like this before. He can't read her.

We should have gone to Paris. Oh, man. I can explain. But he's not sure he can.

He scans the horizon and runs through his options. What is going on? This could be his chance to come clean, to lay his cards on the table and start afresh, to unburden himself of the secrets he's been carrying for seven years, the secrets that have shaped his life. But if he comes clean, there's a risk he could lose it all. Amy, his career, his children, his marriage. Amy is watching him, staring at him.

In a split second, he makes his decision. He turns to face the woman he loves. I can explain everything.

My dad works in B2B marketing. He came by my school for career day and said he was a big ROAS man. Then he told everyone how much he loved calculating his return on ad spend. My friend's still laughing me to this day. Not everyone gets B2B, but with LinkedIn, you'll be able to reach people who do. Get $100 credit on your next ad campaign. Go to linkedin.com slash results to claim your credit. That's linkedin.com slash results. Terms and conditions apply. LinkedIn.com slash results.

LinkedIn, the place to be, to be. As summer winds down, let your imagination soar by listening on Audible. Whether you listen to stories, motivation, expert advice, any genre you love, you can be inspired to imagine new worlds, new possibilities, new ways of thinking. With Audible, there's more to imagine when you listen.

And speaking of listening, you can listen to the best-selling science fiction thriller Project Hail Mary by Andy Weir right now on the Audible app and traverse the galaxy in a desperate last-chance mission along with astronaut Ryland Grace, all from the comfort of your living room.

As an Audible member, you choose one title a month to keep from their entire catalog. New members can try Audible free for 30 days. Visit audible.com slash WonderyPod or text WonderyPod to 500-500. That's audible.com slash WonderyPod or text WonderyPod to 500-500.

From Wondery, I'm Alice Levine. And I'm Matt Ford. And this is British Scandal, the show where we bring you the murkiest stories that ever happened on these odd little isles. British scandals come in many shapes and sizes. Some are about money, some are about sex. They're all about power. But when we look at scandals a bit closer, they turn out to be stranger, wilder, just plain weirder than we remember. So we're journeying back to ask who's to blame for what happened.

And when the dust settled, did anything really change?

OK, Matt, I'm just going to drop cover just for a second. OK, so do I call you Alice or the shark? Which you're more comfortable with. The shark? Yeah, I can imagine. OK, we'll do that from this point forward, I think. OK. A bit of free association now. I say the Metropolitan Police, you say... The boys in blue. They fight crime, they keep the streets safe. Good answer. But what would you say if I told you until recently, right at the heart of the police was a top secret undercover force? Well, that makes total sense because you have to go undercover to fight crime.

terrorists, organised crime. You can't do police work in a country like this without an undercover unit, surely. True, but what if they weren't investigating any of those people you just mentioned and instead they were embedding themselves with a group of people that might have been uncharitably referred to as hippies? Well, that is hard to justify, but

hippies might have been committing crimes. I'm sure on some level there might have been a good reason for it. Here's the thing. They didn't just go undercover with these people. They lived this whole insane double life. I'm talking having relationships with people, having children with them. Oh, man. I don't want to give it away, but if there's ever been a story that had the right to be called a British scandal, it is this one. This sounds brilliant. This is episode one, Undercover.

Makes it sound like he's in Star Wars.

Mark can hear the drums and horns of the marching band echoing down the corridor. He takes a breath to calm himself. The new recruits gather in formation. Outside, Mark's eyes adjust to the dazzling sunlight. He feels a tap on his shoulder. A cadet behind him, one of the more mouthy in the class, says in a voice everyone can hear... When the sergeant shouts, eyes right, you better close your left one, Kennedy. Mark's lazy eye and stammer have dogged him for his entire life.

He's tried to overcome his speech impediment by talking slowly, but it only seems to make things worse. How are you going to give someone a caution when you can't even get your words out? The cadets erupt into laughter. Mark feels himself flush red. Before drawing his baton and battering the guy. Which is actually allowed. Yes. At that point. There's a little loophole for graduation day.

In the crowd, Mark spots his parents. His dad looks like he's going to burst with pride. He was a policeman once, and he encouraged Mark to follow in his footsteps. It's a way of making a difference in the world. You might not be rich, but you can be proud of what you've done. Mark wasn't sure at first. He wasn't a young man filled with much confidence. What if he didn't have it in him? And now he's standing there in line, questioning himself again.

The taunts of his colleagues ring in his head. What if they were right? What if he doesn't live up to his dad's expectations? Bullied by his colleagues, the pressure of a father's expectations. This guy, I'm going to guess, is going to turn out bad. It's quite the cocktail. Psychologist's dream. Mark follows the barked instructions of his senior commander. He concentrates on performing the right action. Parade. General salute. Salute! Salute!

They move in unison as if one giant organism. Eyes right! Mark hears a snigger. The mouthy cadet is directly in front of him. He feels anger welling up from deep inside. When they move again, Mark thrusts his leg forward. It catches the foot of the cadet in front who's thrown off balance. He sprawls on the floor red-faced before jumping back on his feet. There's a gasp from the crowd. Quiet laughter ripples through the men.

Mark is no longer going to be pushed around. As a policeman, he deserves respect, outside and inside the force. The class is called to stand for the address. Mark steals a glance along the line. Their uniforms exude confidence and power, a force to be reckoned with. He feels the eyes of the crowd on him.

His days of being underestimated are over. It's time to stand his ground and show everyone, his fellow cadets, his commanding officer, his parents, the real Mark Kennedy. I've got a hunch that the real Mark Kennedy might turn out to be a bad man. Where do you get these instincts from? The 5th of March, 1998. The Metropolitan Police HQ, London. Mark Kennedy stands in the middle of a busy office.

He's watching a meeting taking place in a corner room. A group of detectives are planning an operation. Mark now works for the Metropolitan Police, but after a few years of running the same beat, he wants a bigger challenge. His wife, Edel, tells him to be patient. Mark prefers to trust his impulses. The day before, Mark's superior arrested a man called Gary on an outstanding warrant. To get out of prison time, Gary revealed he was due to take part in a major drug deal.

Now the drug squad wants to send an officer undercover in his place. Mark moves closer to the detectives. He can hear their conversation. Gary says he's never met this dealer before, so it's possible, in theory. Mark takes a deep breath and knocks. It's not the first time he's enquired about undercover work, but this time there's a reason for them to say yes. Sorry to interrupt, Sarge. I want to put myself forward. I look like Gary, I grew up in the area, I know the streets backwards.

They stare at him for a moment, then tell him to sit down. Just two hours later, Mark is standing at the meeting point. He's dressed in his street clothes. I'm like an urchin. Sounds very Dickensian. Oh, I was thinking all like sportswear. Really, really cool tracksuit. I'm just going to put on some street clothes and nip down to the shop. A microphone is taped to his chest. A wad of money is in his inside pocket. His heart is thumping and he feels like he's going to throw up. His contact is a man called Nikolai.

A Range Rover pulls up sharply and the doors swing open. Mark climbs inside and it takes off at speed. Inside is a haze of cigarette smoke. A thick-set man with a neck tattoo addresses him. I don't know you, but you've been vouched for. Mark thinks back to what Gary said. Half a kilo of cocaine for £10,000. He hands over the money. There's more where this came from.

He knows in order to get the guys at the top of the gang, he needs to start a regular relationship with Nikolai. Work his way deeper and deeper into the group. Is he going to marry Nikolai? This is the greatest love story we've ever had on British Scandal. Nikolai's eyes narrow. Pull over. Mark feels scared, but he forces himself to meet Nikolai's gaze. Wonders if he's overplayed his hand. After a pause, Nikolai speaks. I'm a businessman. If you can handle the supply, I think we can keep doing business together.

A smile creeps across Mark's face as he steps out of the car, package in hand. He feels elated. Now that he's Nikolai's contact, the Met will have to bring him in on the undercover team. He's found his calling and he's determined to figure out how far he can take it. I know that you need undercover officers who are good at it, but it's so funny to go, oh my God, I've just done a drug deal for 10 grand. I think this is my vocation in life. This is my calling. Spring 2002, London.

Mark walks quickly along Queens Road in the south of the city. He's looking for an address. His plan to rise up the Met's ranks has gone well, but the whereabouts of his new department is proving elusive. Finally, he locates the building on an industrial estate. Empty fruit boxes lie scattered around the graffiti-covered entrance. If Mark didn't know better, he'd assume he'd made a mistake.

He presses the intercom. Hello, it's Mark Kennedy. I believe you're expecting me. There's a pause, then a click as the door opens. Mark, good to meet you. Welcome to the madhouse. Oh, God, I'd hate that. Just, I know that you're undercover cops, but don't, not day one. Any start of a new day, just take day one easy. There's your phone, there's a pack of cigarettes. What jobs have you done where part of the welcome pack is 10 B&H?

We're going to go to the Carvery for lunch. We're just going to ease you in. Not, oh God, it's terrible. There's your scotch. Yeah, you've got everything. Paul is young and intense with cold blue eyes. Mark looks around the empty office. He can't tell if he's joking. Paul leads him into a small back room packed with files. Each of those folders represents an officer currently undercover. They're what we call deep swimmers. Deployments that last for years at a time.

Mark has heard stories about deep swimmers, but they seemed so far-fetched he was sceptical. There was one rumour of an officer bombing a department store to prove his credentials. Paul hands Mark a ring folder containing a huge document. We call this one the Bible. It's everything you'll need to know for long-deployment undercover policing. It was written decades ago, but for the most part, it stands up. Mark's excitement grows as he leafs through the manual.

There are sections on creating a fake identity, infiltrating radical organisations and sabotaging illegal activities. It does sound exciting. If you're into that sort of thing, this is fantastic. And there's a manual. There's an actual manual. Then a sentence catches his eye. It's from a section that gives advice on what to do if you get too close to someone while you're undercover.

If you have no other option, you should try to have a fleeting, disastrous relationship with individuals who are not important to your sources of information. What? That sounds like terrible advice. The word disastrous really leaps out there. He reads it again. Paul's watching from the doorway. What does fleeting relationship mean? There's a lot to take in, I know. Some things you can only learn on the job. I'm sure my team can help.

Oh, you'll be working entirely alone. You'll be assigned a handler to provide support where necessary. Why has he not asked about the disastrous bit? Sorry, I get the fleeting relationship. When you say a disastrous relationship, what does that mean, Paul? Mark is used to undercover work by now, but he always returns to his family at the end of the day. He now has two children. He promised Edel this promotion will be good for the family. They're even taking a holiday at the weekend to celebrate.

As if reading his mind, Paul continues. You're a family man, I presume? Yeah, a boy and a... That's good. Prevents officers getting too attached to having something to come back to. Oh, man. So they'd rather have officers who have families doing this line of work, which is a terrible attitude to take towards the poor kids and the wife or husband. Yeah, collateral damage. Oh!

Paul puts a new folder on the table. We want you to infiltrate an eco-activist group in Nottingham. They're suspected of planning extremist activity. You're being sent to do a recce in two days. Hold on. I mean, I know that occasionally you might get extremist elements of some campaign groups, but I presumed with this being London in 1990, they were going to infiltrate the IRA, not some eco-activists in Nottingham. You're just saying that because it's Nottingham. Yeah, and I love the planet. Yeah.

Full disclosure for listeners, we are both children of the city and we'll defend it to the hilt. We both love Nottingham and we both love the planet. Nothing bad happens there. It's a microclimate. It's the only place that's not been affected by climate change, OK? He flicks through the grainy covert photos of his targets. He feels a rush of adrenaline. This is the opportunity he's been waiting for. A chance to make a real difference.

He needs to make this work. He'll talk to Edel. He knows he can't tell her the truth about where he's going, but he'll make her understand. She knows how important his job is. Closing the folder, he reads the motto inscribed on the Bible's front page: "By any means necessary." May 1st, 2004. Dublin, Ireland. Thousands of anti-capitalist activists are on the streets to protest a week-long summit of EU leaders.

Mark Kennedy is at the front of the crowd, advancing on a line of Irish police.

He's been undercover for a year now and he's almost unrecognisable. His long hair is held back in a greasy ponytail and his ears are lined with piercings. Tattoos snake up and down his forearms. It just sounds completely different to the image we had of him at the start where he's there as a policeman, clean cut in his immaculate uniform. I mean, there must be part of him thinking, can I just infiltrate some billionaires next time, please? You also worry who designs the look because if I had to go undercover and like...

a motorcycle gang, I'd be like, okay, so I'd like a lovely leather jacket, some sweatbands, I guess they wear those, some torn jeans. You know, I'd look like a bad kind of like Barbie version of does motorcycle gang. So who is it that goes, you're going to want snake tattoos, you're going to want long... Like who... Is there a department in the police? Is there a styling department? Yeah.

An activist to his left starts a new chant. Resist the Europe of capital! The activist chanting is called Amy, and she's part of the Nottingham contingent. I like the sound of her already. Mark doesn't know her properly, but he knows she's well connected. He's seen her file. She's also no stranger to police confrontation. Mark made sure they were next to each other at the front. He's been following her lead.

The fact that she's attractive and fun to be around is an added incentive. He was shocked to discover most of the Nottingham group practice polyamory, having more than one romantic partner at a time. Seizing his moment, he shouts across at her, They're blocking us. Is there a way around? Only if we let them. Keep going. Don't back down. They stop inches away from the line of police, who begin to cautiously fall back.

The protesters erupt in deafening cheers. He squeezes Amy's arm. That was easy. I thought they put up more of a fight. She laughs in response. Much too easy. This is your first protest. As she speaks, police vans open and riot cops wearing helmets and shields swarm out. They form a barrier in front of them.

Yeah, and don't forget our first date. We were protesting against capitalism in Europe, in Ireland, and we ran at the police, then a load of riot cops pulled up. I mean, standard clichéd first date, really. We went to Pizza Express and had a Peroni. Marcus eyeball to eyeball with a cop in full stormtrooper gear. He feels anxious but holds his nerve. It's mad that he's eye to eye with the people on his side, but they don't know.

Do you think that he goes, I'm undercover? Don't get me, get them. Yeah, hit her first. Suddenly, the police line parts down the middle, revealing an enormous water cannon. Mark grits his teeth as a high-powered jet of water begins scattering people like skittles. He centres himself as the water cannon turns towards him and Amy. But they're far too close. It will hit them with maximum force.

At the last minute, he dives toward Amy, knocking her out of the water's path. Mark takes the full force and is momentarily stunned as he hits the ground. He struggles to orientate himself as he clambers to his feet, wet and panting. He spots an outstretched hand. "Here, quick!" Amy pulls him into the safety of the crowd. "I'm Amy, by the way. It's Mark, isn't it?" "Yeah, that's right. Mark Stone." He feels pleased. By showing himself to be brave, he's cemented a new connection.

And he intends to exploit it to its full potential. I think we know what that means. Hey, I'm Ryan Reynolds. Recently, I asked Mint Mobile's legal team if big wireless companies are allowed to raise prices due to inflation. They said yes. And then when I asked if raising prices technically violates those onerous two-year contracts, they said, what the f*** are you talking about, you insane Hollywood a**hole?

So to recap, we're cutting the price of Mint Unlimited from $30 a month to just $15 a month. Give it a try at mintmobile.com slash switch. $45 upfront for three months plus taxes and fees. Promote it for new customers for a limited time. Unlimited more than 40 gigabytes per month. Slows. Full terms at mintmobile.com. Want to teach your kids financial literacy, but not sure where to start? Greenlight can help.

With Greenlight, parents can keep an eye on kids' spending and saving, while kids and teens use a card of their own to build money confidence. As a parent, you can send instant money transfers, set up chores, automate allowance, and more. It's a convenient way to run your household, customized to your family's needs, and the easy way to raise financially smart kids. Get started with Greenlight today and get your first month free at greenlight.com slash wondery. ♪

September 2004, Malham Cove, North Yorkshire. Amy grips the rope and digs her toes into the cliff face. The route is well within her skill level. She grew up climbing mountains in Wales, but last night she stayed up late drinking, and now she's feeling it. Her hands are sweaty. She can't make out where she needs to move next. Amy and her friends regularly pack a car with tents and climbing gear in search of adventure. There's a big group this time, with some new faces.

Shifting her weight to the toes of her left foot, she reaches for a narrow ledge and gingerly fixes her grip. The ground feels very far below her now. Just go bowling instead. You get to have the fun of being around friends. There's a competition element and no one falls to their death. Above, her friends shout encouragement. It's customary to share a bottle of whiskey at the summit.

The last thing Amy wants is another drink, but today it's an expensive bottle, courtesy of Mark Stone. She invited him in Dublin, but didn't expect to see him so soon. The lavish gift caused a few raised eyebrows. Her friend Eleanor was unimpressed. If he thinks being rich will impress anyone, he's in the wrong crowd. Well, I think it's a nice gesture. Let's give him a chance. Eleanor has good judgment. Listen to Eleanor. Be like Eleanor.

For all of her friends' supposed open-mindedness, activists are some of the most judgmental people she knows. From what she's seen, Mark's a decent guy. He's not afraid to stand up for what he believes in. He put himself on the line in Dublin and got battered by the water cannon. After the march, they'd lamented capitalism's stranglehold on democracy over a beer.

Hey, I know we just met, but do you fancy getting a drink and maybe talking about capitalism's stranglehold over democracy? You betcha. I think I know what that means. No, I literally mean, do you want to talk about capitalism's stranglehold over democracy? Mark seemed to hang on her every word.

Amy takes a deep breath and scans the cliff face. She's not far from the top. She makes her move, but suddenly the ledge under her foot gives way. Should have gone bowling. She lets out a cry of surprise. Then she hears a voice above her. It's Mark.

Amy, there's a foothold above your right knee. Use that to take you to the jagged boulder. From there, it's a clear path to the top. She follows his instructions and before long, she's stood at the top looking down the valley at their campsite. You almost lost it there. That'll teach me to go hard the night before a climb. Why would you go out and get wasted the night before climbing up a mountain? I'd say stay in, cook yourself a bowl of vegetable soup, chuck a potato in there so that you sleep well.

And that's for the eight days prior to a climb. Just to be extra safe. You'd be so weak. You'd be like, I can't reach. I only had that vegetable soup last night. I don't got any liquorice in sport. Mark passes Amy some of the whiskey. She takes a long, deep drink. It burns in her stomach, but it feels good. Then Mark turns to her. I also brought that book you recommended in Dublin, The Revenge of Gaia. Amy smiles.

That evening, she approaches him by the campfire. The soft light accentuates his high cheekbones and square jaw. She holds up her glass. To my knight in shining armour, that's twice you've come to my rescue now. However will I repay you? He smiles and leans in close. Well, there's a few concepts in that book I'm struggling to get my head around. She takes his hand. I'll tell you anything you want to know. OK. When banks borrow money from other banks, how does that work? LAUGHTER

July 7th, 2005. Gleneagles, Scotland. Detective Inspector David Hutchison looks in the rearview mirror at Mark Kennedy. He's hunched low on the back seat. Looks like he's not washed in days. He smells of stale lager and BO. David cracks the window to get some air. Gleneagles is overrun by anti-capitalist activists. They're all here to disrupt the G8 summit, which is being hosted by Prime Minister Tony Blair.

David raises an eyebrow.

Mark looks annoyed. He meets Mark's eyes in the mirror. Mark looks away.

Just high spirits. Boys will be boys, you know. David knows Mark is under intense pressure, but a drunk agent is a liability. This is no time for games.

You're not there to be the focus of attention, Mark. Just remember that. I don't want this to become an issue. The next time he meets his gaze in the mirror, Mark's eyes are burning with anger. How's your hotel, David? Did they do room service? Last night I went for a shit with a torch in a hole in the ground. Then I sat through a three-hour debate about cancelling debt for the global south. So if I want to have a drink at the end of the day, I think I've fucking earned it.

I mean, this really exposes the duplicity of it, doesn't it? He's hanging around with these people and he's playing the game. He sounds like he absolutely despises them. He's sort of hating every minute. He's having to not only pretend to be interested in what they're interested in, but for it to be his life's work. Mark pulls a carrier bag from his pocket and chucks it on the passenger seat. Before I forget, receipts.

It's so funny that he's infiltrated an anti-capitalist movement and he's going to claim the cost back. I hope he got a receipt for that £10,000 worth of heroin or whatever it was. Yeah, receipts for £10,000 worth of coke, one copy of The Revenge of Gaia. I've got six new ear piercings, left ear, five new ear piercings, right ear, and a selection of nice just trinkets to hang in them. And can I charge back two terrible forearm tattoos? Thanks. I've just popped that as a handwritten receipt, that one.

Go on then. Off you go. David turns on the engine.

Mark's right. He is in a nice hotel, away from the chaos and the dirt of the crusties. And if Mark has a problem with that, he's prepared to tell him a few home truths, pull rank if necessary. But for now, he'll let it go. He needs Mark focused on the task at hand. He's the Met's most important asset, and he can't have him blowing his cover. Because otherwise, they'll never infiltrate some eco-warriors on the outskirts of Nottinghamshire.

January 2006, County Cork, Ireland. Mark is at home. It's snowing and the kids are pestering him to come outside and play. It's the last thing he wants to do today. But he knows he's been neglecting his dad duties. Since Edel took the kids to live in Ireland, it's been hard to find the time to visit. He wishes they were closer. These days, he and Edel don't even talk that much on the phone. When they do, it's always about the kids. Mark hears the children's shrieks of delight as they tumble in the snow.

He walks to the kitchen to watch them through the back window. Edel is making tea. You'd think they'd never seen snow before. I barely had time to get their coats on. They're just excited you're here. They've been looking forward to seeing you for weeks. I've not been back five minutes and you're already starting. Try single parenting for three years, Mark. The money's grand, but you can't buy a dad.

The impact on other people's lives, people close to him as a result of his career is astonishing. There's this whole other life going on that he's completely absent from. His temples throb. He doesn't want to start a fight. He hasn't got the energy. He walks out of the kitchen and heads to the drinks cabinet. In truth, Mark is wracked with guilt. His relationship with Amy is getting more serious. They spend practically all their time together. He hasn't felt this way about anyone before.

He knows he should be out there throwing snowballs with his kids, but all he can think about is her. He gazes at his wedding photo. The smiling, clean-cut young man bears no resemblance to the scruffy, bearded figure looking back. He can't even remember who that was.

How do people do this? Lead a completely double life and they're having two proper deep relationships with two completely different people. I don't understand how they can not say the wrong name or not get their stories mixed up. And how doesn't that cause you permanent damage, compartmentalising your life like that? Because you're in a perpetual state of fiction. Like, you know, neither is really real, except the impacts are real.

He can't take it anymore. Something's come up. I need to go back early, but I'll make it up to you. Edel snorts, her voice cold. Where are you even going back to? I'm tired of this. For all I know, you like living there, wherever you are, more than you like being with us. Mark winces. He knows it's true. He still loves Edel. He loves the kids. But he no longer knows where to call home. All he knows is that he needs to get back to Amy as soon as he can.

Summer 2006, Nottingham. What would you have been doing? Oh, crikey. Oh, it would have been the World Cup. So being a lout in Market Square? Yeah, exactly, yeah. Drunk, face down in a fountain with trench foot. Amy carries a box of vinyl records into the front room of a two-storey terraced house. Outside, Mark is unloading the car.

The ground floor is quickly becoming an obstacle course as their shared possessions stack up. Amy is still shocked she's agreed to be exclusive, let alone move in together. She spots a photo of her and Mark in an open cardboard box. They're posing in front of a tent in Glenshield, Scotland. In the foreground is a barbecue where Mark is roasting a pheasant.

The last two years have been wild. He's so different from other guys she's dated. He's not vegetarian. He loves to take the piss out of her and her do-gooder friends. He's become close with her family, particularly her brother. Though all they talk about is bloody football. Mark comes in and picks through the records. I was thinking I could set up my decks in the living room. They'll be perfect for parties. It's not exactly the vibe I was going for, baby. Baby? Oh, we've been here before. Shudder. It's a British scandal no-no.

When they first met, Mark's iPod was full of indie rock. That must have been a red flag for an eco-warrior. Even having an iPod, let alone it being full of indie rock. He's since learnt to mix drum and bass. He now dresses in the activist's preferred uniform, all black and heavy boots.

Mark laughs. For the first time in years, she feels truly content.

It's not been plain sailing, though. Through the window, she can see Mark's new Mitsubishi Warrior pickup truck. She hates it, believes it undermines their commitment to proper green living. She's right. She's completely right. Her friends even call him Flash because of his expensive tastes. But that's not all her friends whisper about him. Mark's excessive drinking hasn't gone unnoticed. Several times they've helped her put him to bed when he's passed out drunk.

Amy isn't too concerned. They all like a drink. He just gets a little carried away. His disappearances also cause murmurs. When Amy's dad was gravely ill in hospital, it was her friends who took her to say her goodbyes. Mark was away working on a building site. He works as an industrial climber, helping out on big construction projects. Sometimes he's away for weeks and weeks. The times that they're apart upset Amy, but she tries to be patient, and the money's good.

She goes upstairs to their empty bedroom. There's a smaller one next to it. Although they haven't discussed having children, it would make a good nursery. And she's in no rush. This is just the start of their adventure, and it's full of possibilities. Just not the ones that she is imagining. Quite. August 2006. Drax Power Station, Selby, North Yorkshire. It's dusk on a warm summer's evening. Mark is crouched in a line of bushes by the power station's perimeter fence.

He's sweating. And not just because of the weather. Because he's had to go for a shit with a torch. Stop thinking about that. I can't get it out of my head now. He watches an activist put bolt cutters to the chain link. He holds his breath. Here's the snap of breaking wire. By his side are dozens of other activists. Nobody dares make a sound. They're going to turn off the plant's furnace. It's been planned meticulously. The tools were hidden in place the previous night.

One by one, the group slips through the fence. As Amy takes her turn, Mark puts his hand on her shoulder. Stay close to the fence. At the first sign of trouble, get back here immediately.

It's daring stuff, this, isn't it? Breaking into a power station and shutting it off. How would they even know where to start? I imagine in their group, they must have... Google. Smartphone. And people from lots of different disciplines, you would imagine. Yeah, like Ocean's Eleven. That's how I think of it. But a sustainable version. One's a contortionist, one's an illusionist, one's a scientist, and one's a costume designer, as previously discussed. And one of them's got those big bolt cutters. And one's Brad Pitt.

She smiles and squeezes his arm. Not like you to be hanging back. I'll be right behind. Together, they creep towards the building's entrance, making sure to stay in the shadows. There's a commotion. A line of police break cover. They come streaming forwards wearing riot helmets and waving batons.

What are they playing at coming in so heavy-handed? Mark dives through the fence and frantically looks for Amy. But he can hear punches being thrown. The activists scatter. Then he hears a woman scream. His heart pounds as he runs towards the noise. The first baton blow crunches against his ribs. Instinctively, he reaches towards the pain. But then another comes, and another. He can't feel his fingers. He's swinging wildly, but he can't tell if his punches are landing.

He falls to his knees as more fists and batons rain down on him. A boot to the spine sends white stars exploding in his vision. Mark screams in agony. This is a peaceful protest. What are you doing? He rolls onto his back and tries to protect himself. Through his hands, he can see his assailant's faces. Their expressions are twisted in rage. He can also see they're enjoying it.

Later that evening, Mark stands in front of a mirror. Livid purple bruises spread across his shoulders and back. He puts on a brave face. I told them they punch like old women. But secretly, he's furious. The police must have known he was in the group. He told his handler earlier. He's already sent photos of his injuries to David. He wants the officers disciplined.

Mark winces as he opens his phone with swollen fingers. David has replied. He's to leave the camp and return to his wife and children. There's no news on the police officers who conducted the raid. Tapping out a response, his pain is replaced by anger. He makes a decision. I'm going to stay here for the time being where people are actually going to take care of me. You've completely fucked this up. It's the first time in his career he's defied a direct order.

Mark Kennedy has officially gone rogue. Oh boy. 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.

Let's face it, we were all that kid. So first call your parents to say I'm sorry, and then download the Instacart app to get delivery in as fast as 30 minutes all school year long. Get a $0 delivery fee for your first three orders while supplies last. Minimum $10 per order. Additional terms apply. September 2010, Hertfordshire. Amy giggles as she watches two shirtless men grappling in a makeshift mud wrestling ring. Pfft!

Okay, this is what I was doing in Nottingham in 2006, the summer they're up.

It's Mark's 40th birthday. Amy suggested he celebrate by throwing a party with a group of activist friends who are also hitting the big 4-0 this year. It's now more like a mini festival. There are games, a ceilidh dance and the culmination, a performance by a group calling themselves the 69ers after the year they were all born, 1969. I mean, I'm glad that's why they've called themselves the 69ers, but still, it's a pretty naff joke. It's so lame.

Mark's appointed himself band leader. For weeks, Amy's been watching him obsessively rehearsing songs on his guitar. He even pestered her to perform a number. Come on, you've got a great voice. It'll be a laugh. I'm not like you. I don't love being the centre of attention. Amy follows the crowd into a large barn. Pinned along one wall are photographs of the 69ers at different ages. She offered to help Mark find one, but he was cagey. My family didn't really take photos. They only took a few with me when I left home.

It saddens Amy that he's estranged from everyone other than his brother in America. At one end of the barn, she spots the stage with drums, microphones and guitars. Behind it hangs a banner depicting a cartoon couple in a 69 position. Oh, grow up. These guys. You'd get told off for that at school. Told off? Wouldn't you? If you'd drawn a cartoon couple of people 69 in, you'd get told off. So you've had quite hard to draw? Yeah, I mean, I don't, I mean, I've never done it.

So I wouldn't know. So you may have been applauded. But your 40th birthday. It's creepy. That whole thing is just weird. I'm very liberal about what other people get up to, but that is weird. Polyamorous hippies, not your safe space. No, I'm more, let's just go watch football, go for a couple of beers, go for a curry and be monogamous. It's a simple set of rules that seem to be right. Another page in the Life According to Matt Ford book, which will, of course, be out in the summer.

Off to one side, Mark is leaning against the wall. He's wearing a T-shirt with the same logo and a black trilby hat. The screen from his phone lights up his face. He looks worried, upset even. Before Amy can check if he's all right, the lights dim and Mark and the band take to the stage. They launch into a rousing rendition of the Stooges' hit, 1969.

The crowd cheers, but Amy can see something is bothering Mark. His enthusiasm seems to have vanished. When the performance is over, he still looks preoccupied.

Baby, you were amazing. They totally loved you. It went by so quick. I didn't have time to take it in. Is everything okay? I thought you'd be buzzing. He looks like he's got the weight of the world on his shoulders. It's just overwhelming. I've never had so many people do something that's about me. It's because they love you. I love you. Come on, let's get pissed and have a dance. Mark looks away. In the flash of the lights, it looks like his eyes are filled with tears. I'm just going to

She watches Mark walk through the crowd. People hug him, but he doesn't stop. The next day, Mark doesn't want to come out of their van. Amy watches helplessly as his hyperventilating turns into a full-blown panic attack. She's never seen this happen to him before.

12 hours ago, he was getting ready for the party of a lifetime. Now he's unrecognisable. She's always respected Mark's privacy. She hates it when people pry into her life. But Mark's behaviour is worrying her. This isn't the Mark Stone she knows. September 2010, Hertfordshire. Mark is on stage with the 69ers. I'm so sorry. We feel like we're responsible for this somehow in repeating it.

There's a spotlight in his eyes, a guitar dangling from his neck. Beads of sweat are rolling off his forehead. The band have just raced through their first number to rapturous applause, but he can't remember the next song. His pulse is racing from the news he's just received. Before stepping on stage, he got a text. The operation's over. You have three weeks to get out of Nottingham. Wow.

Through the glare of the lights, Mark can just about make out the faces of his friends. Some of them he's known for seven years. He goes to demos with them, shares accommodation with them. In many ways, they're the only friends he has. He can't imagine never seeing them again.

He knows tensions are fraught with the Met. After he got beaten up, he was angry and lashed out. But he's still been delivering key pieces of information. He's the Met's most accomplished deep swimmer. His last operation led to what the papers are calling the largest pre-emptive mass arrest in modern policing history. 114 activists were taken into custody, many of them his friends, just hours ahead of a massive direct action to shut down Ratcliffe-on-Saul power station.

I'm not belittling the fact that some criminality might have been taking place, but this level of resource and commitment just to get a few eco-warriors does seem disproportionate. It really does. Mark finds Amy's eyes in the audience. Her face is flushed with excitement. She mouths the words, love you. He looks away. It feels like a rug has been pulled from under his feet.

He launches into the Sex Pistols classic, Anarchy in the UK. Crossover episode. And if you want to hear that song properly, listen to our series on the Sex Pistols. Yes, I do have the pipes. His heart pounds in his chest as he tears into the lyric, I am an antichrist. I am an anarchist. At the end of the song, he draws out the last word. Destroy me.

He's spent years building this new life. But he knows he has to toss a match on the lot and walk away. He knows he needs to destroy Mark Stone. This is the first episode in our series, Spy Cops. A quick note about this episode. The character of Amy is fictionalized. Her story contains details from the experiences of many of the women affected by undercover police.

You can read about them in the book Deep Deception, the story of the spy cops network by the women who uncovered the shocking truth. If you'd like to know more about this story, you can read Undercover by Paul Lewis and Rob Evans. You can also listen to the Bed of Lies podcast from Karama Gugan and The Telegraph. I'm Alice Levine. And I'm Matt Ford. Jack McKay wrote this episode. Additional writing by Alice Levine and Matt Ford.

Our sound design is by Richard Ward. Script editing by James Magnier. Our associate producer is Francesca Gilardi Quadriocorsio. Our senior producer is Joe Sykes. Our executive producers are Jenny Beckman, Stephanie Jens, and Marshall Louis for Wondery. Hey, it's Guy Raz here, host of How I Built This, a podcast that gives you a front row seat to how some of the best known companies in the world were built.

In a new weekly series we've launched called Advice Line, I'm joined by some legendary founders and together we talk to entrepreneurs in every industry to help tackle their roadblocks in real time. Everybody buys on feeling, Guy, like everybody. So if you don't give them the feeling that they're looking for, they're not going to buy. A lot of times founders will go outside of themselves to build a story. And

And you can't replicate heart. You know, I think we all have a little bit of imposter syndrome, which isn't the worst thing in the world because it doesn't allow you to get overconfident and think that you're invincible. Check out the advice line by following How I Built This on the Wondery app or wherever you get your podcasts. You can listen to How I Built This early and ad-free right now on Wondery Plus.