The Spy Who - The Spy Who Rode with Warlords | Graveyard of Empires | 1

Episode Date: September 15, 2026

In the aftermath of the 9/11 terrorist attacks, the U.S. is preparing to invade Afghanistan. It wants to overthrow the Taliban so it can locate Osama bin Laden and eliminate al-Qaeda. But to succeed, it needs the country’s anti-Taliban warlords on side – and that’s where an elite squad of CIA operatives come in…See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Audible subscribers can listen to all episodes of The Spy Who, add-free right now. Join Audible today by downloading the Audible app. A note to listeners. This episode contains graphic depictions of violence, animal slaughter and strong language. September 13th, 2001, Washington, D.C. In the White House Situation Room, the mood is somber and focused. It's two days since the 9-11. terror attacks, the nation is reeling, and President George W. Bush's inner circle have gathered

to discuss America's response. Among them is Kofa Black, the head of the CIA's counterterrorism center. He's a broad, jowly man, with round spectacles and an intense stare. And right now, that stare is trained on Bush's Secretary of Defense, Donald Rumsfeld, who's attempting to dominate the discussion. Mr. President, we need to bring overwhelming force. That means building up our forces, then unleashing all our firepower. President Bush looks troubled. America is hurting on his watch, and he's promised to hunt down and punish those responsible. Building up our forces could take months, Don.

Hasn't anyone here got action in mind that we can execute right now? Bush turns to CIA director, George Tenet, who in turn gives Black a nod. Black takes a deep breath. This is the agency's chance to put itself front and center of the response to 9-11. Mr. President, we've spent years cultivating relationships with resistance groups inside Afghanistan. We have a plan. We're ready to deploy covert pathfinder teams, small squads consisting of intelligence officers and special forces. These operatives can coordinate the local anti-Taliban forces to start the attack.

With these guys on the ground and backed for the American air support, we can overrun the Taliban fast. Bush leans back, considering the CIA's plan to use Kobo's intelligence and US air power to unseat the Islamic fundamentalists who nurtured al-Qaeda. How fast is fast. Black notices Rumsfeld's enraged expression at the president's interest in the Pathfinder plan.

Everyone expected the Pentagon would lead the response. Black knows that to cement the CIA's position, he needs to talk in terms this president responds to. Sir, the Taliban and Al-Qaeda are tough sons of bitches. Our allies in Afghanistan say they're never caught one alive. They'd rather die fighting. But with our plans, there are flies walking across their eyeballs. Once our teams are deployed, we could see the Taliban fall in weeks. weeks?

Kofa. Can you really do this? Black is making huge claims. But with the US under attack, he believes the CIA is best place to take the fight to the enemy. He looks bush in the eye. Mr. President, there's not a doubt in my mind. A smile breaks on the president's face.

That's what I'm talking about. Go get him. The decision's made. The CIA's covert pathfinder teams will lead the U.S. and its allies into war in Afghanistan. But its first team on the ground is about to enter a war zone where warlord rivalries and Taliban traps threaten to end their mission in defeat. I'm Raza Jafri, and this is The Spy Who, an audible original. Beneath the veneer of the everyday lurks the realm of the spy.

It's a dank, murky world full of dark corners. sinister motives and corrupted morals, a place of paranoia and infiltration, sabotage and manipulation. This season, we opened the file on David Tyson and the CIA's team Alpha Squad that led the US into Afghanistan in the aftermath of 9-11. Their mission was to kick-start the overthrow of the Taliban and then hunt down terrorist mastermind Osama bin Laden. Not all of them would make it out of What you're about to hear are dramatized reconstructions of events based on the information that's been made public. But remember, in the shadowy realm of the spy,

the full story is rarely clear. This is episode one, the graveyard of empires. Two years before 9-11, October 20th, 1999. CIA officer David Tyson looks out over the mountains of northern Afghanistan. Through the helicopter window, he sees a vast labyrinth of peaks and ravines spreading out into the distance. His breath catches at the jagged beauty of the landscape. Tyson is normally stationed in Uzbekistan, but today he's part of a six-man CIA team that's crossing the border into Afghanistan on a covert mission.

Below him, he notices something down on the mountain side glinting in the sun, the burned-out wreck of a Soviet jet fighter. The valleys are littered with these grim artifacts of Moscow's failed invasion in the 1980s and are a reminder of the many armies that have perished in these lands. Tyson's stomach lurches as the helicopter begins its descent. The CIA team touched down in the courtyard of a large compound. Tyson stretches out his powerful 6'2 frame, saw after the long helicopter ride. Several Afghan troops are standing guard with Aegean. K-47 slung over their shoulders.

One motions the Americans to enter a small, single-story building. Tyson feels his heart pounding. He's about to negotiate with the warlord. Tyson has led into a low-ceilinged room. It takes a moment for his eyes to adjust, but then he sees him. Ahmed Shah Masud, the warlord, known as the Lion of Panch. Shia. He's tall and wiry with a piercing gaze. Tyson greets him with deference. Salam al-Aqa. Maseud's eyes light up at the traditional Afghan greeting.

You speak Dari? My Uzbek is better, but I try to keep up with Dari and Tajik as well. Masood's smile widens and emotions for Tyson to sit. Tyson joined the CIA as a linguist before becoming a case-off. officer, and now his skills at proving their worth. Masoud leans back on a couch and looks Tyson up and down. So, you are hunting bin Laden, and I am fighting the Taliban. Perhaps we can help each other. Masud is the last Afghan commander still fighting the Taliban,

who captured most of Afghanistan three years earlier with support from Osama bin Laden and his terrorist network, Al-Qaeda. But earlier this month, I'll be able to be able to be. Kida attacked the naval destroyer, the USS Cole, killing 17 American sailors. So the CIA has sent Tyson's team here to seek Masood's help in hunting down those responsible. We would appreciate any intelligence on bin Laden's location. We can provide communications equipment and some funding. I don't need communications equipment.

I need weapons. If you want to stop al-Qaeda, help us defeat the Taliban. Tyson pauses. The US State Department will resist supplying weapons to Massoud because of his reported connections with Iran and interests in the heroin trade. That may be possible in the future. I would have to talk to people back in Washington. I've heard this from America before.

When the Soviets invaded, you gave his rockets to fight them. But as soon as the Russians were beaten, it disappeared. That's how the Daleks took over. You see, there is risk in inaction too. As the poet Rumi advised, we should run from what is comfortable and forget safety. Tyson almost smiles. Masood's habit of quoting Persian poetry has made him a favourite of Western journalists. And meeting him now, Tyson can understand why.

Masud radiates charisma, an aura not just of battled hardened ferocity, but of dignified wisdom. I understand you've been disappointed in the past and I can only promise to speak to Washington but we do want to help you to work with you we don't want to repeat the mistakes Russia made here now Masu's wry smile returns

or those of the British Afghanistan is the graveyard of empires my friend but believe me there will come a time when you will have to deal with this Al-Qaeda. And when that day comes, your only hope will be here in the north with our alliance. Almost two years later, September 9th, 2001, Toshkent, Uzbekistan.

Inside the CIA station, David Tyson clenches his fists in anger. The intelligence reports on the desk in front of him confirm his worst fears. Masoud, the lion of Panshir, is dead. He looks up at his boss, the CIA station chief. I can't believe they finally got him. Tyson spent nearly two years cultivating Masud as an ally. He was the last bastion of opposition to the Taliban. Now he's gone, killed in a suicide bombing by two al-Qaeda operatives,

posing as TV journalists. Tyson shakes his head in disbelief. Masoud wasn't just an asset, but someone he had genuinely come to respect for his strategic vision. The station chief leans forward in his chair. Dave, I know. It's tough when you lose an agent. But we have to think about what this means for Afghanistan and our position here. What can we expect now, Masood's gone? Honestly, sir, it's a goddamn nightmare.

Without Masud to hold them together, the Northern Alliance may fall apart. The Uzbeks are going to fight the Taj Taj al-Ajad. The Tajiks? The Tajiks are going to fight the Hazaras? The ethnic factions within the alliance will likely split open. It is a fucking mess, and the Taliban know it. The station chief grimaces at Tyson's downbeat assessment. All right. I'm going to need you to fly out to London to brief our people there.

They'll need an update on the implications for the Stinger buyback program too. During the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan, the CIA supplied Stinger anti-aircraft missile. launches to the Mujahideen to counter Russian air superiority. Now, hundreds of these weapons are unaccounted for, and the CIA is trying to recover them by offering to buy them back for up to $150,000 at peace. But that's not the only concern, because now that Massoud is dead, Al-Qaeda will be stronger than ever, and the Taliban indebted to them. Tyson dreads to think what might come next. Two days later, September 11th, 2001.

Tyson steps into the terminal at London Heathrow, yawning after the long flight from Toshkent. The airport is strangely deserted, with only a few passengers milling around and armed police looking on edge. The arrival and departure boards show one canceled flight after another. Nearby, a group of passengers are huddled around a TV.

He joins them. and there's immediately hit with scenes of horror. Passenger planes hitting the World Trade Center, New Yorkers leaping to their deaths. People on the streets fleeing as the towers fall. Tyson's stomach lurches. He knows in his gut that this must be the work of Al-Qaeda. He reaches for his cell phone

and calls his contact to the CIA's London station. Dave, where are you? Are you in London? I just landed and saw the news. What the hell's happening? We barely know. Everyone's scrambling for information. For all, we know, another tag could come any minute. Okay, I'm coming in. No, Dave. What you have to do is get on the first flight back to Toshkent.

Whatever happens now, it's going to involve Afghanistan, and it's going to run through your station. Tyson's grip on his phone, Titans. He can't yet guess how America will react to this brutal act of terror. But he knows his life. is about to change forever. A few weeks later, Yorktown, Virginia. Mike Span exchanges a look with his wife, Shannon,

who is holding their newborn son as his two daughters run on ahead. All right, girls, come over here. Allison and Emily, seven and nine, run over, and Span kneels down. Now, do you know why we're here in Yorktown? because a long time ago America fought a war and this is where it ended this is where our country was born his daughter Emily looks up

Daddy's gonna fight a war Span is a CIA operative who's about to join the agency's Pathfinder teams in Afghanistan he has just managed to fit in this long planned family trip before leaving Allison screws up her face I don't want you to go

someone else should go so you can stay Span looks around. The wide streets and colonial architecture of Yorktown seem so incongruous with talk of war, terrorism or conflict. He puts his hand on Alison's shoulder. Now remember, there are some bad people out there, and daddy has to go and stop them. What if every daddy said they couldn't go?

Who would be left to stop the bad guys? Span looks up at Shannon. She's also a CIA officer, that two met during training, but that feels like a lifetime ago. He can see her eyes glisten. And remember, Daddy will be with a team who will protect him. And once he's beating the bad people, he'll come home again.

Span looks around his young family and the peaceful American town and prays that his wife is right. Two weeks later, the CIA station, Tosh Kent, Uzbekistan. Tyson keeps his eyes fixed on CIA case officer J.R. Seeger as he paces at the front of a briefing room. Seeger is tall with a strong frame and a military bearing. He turns to Tyson and the other six men sitting with him. All right, we're Team Alpha.

We're going to be the first American boots on the ground as part of Operation Enduring Freedom. They hit us? Now we're hitting back. Tyson feels the energy of the room shift at the thought that they're going to be the spearhead of America's response to 9-11. Siga points at a map hanging on the office wall.

It shows a detailed view of northern Afghanistan. Our mission will be to drop behind enemy lines into the Daria Suf. There we will link up with the local resistance commander, a.k.a. Warlord, Abdul Rashid Dostoum. Our primary objective is to help Dostom's forces capture the city of Mazar-I-Sharif, about 130 cliques north of the valley. Mazar-I-Sharif is the key to northern Afghanistan.

We take it, we shatter the Taliban's grip on the northern provinces, and we can open a land bridge to Uzbekistan to bring in military supplies. It'll be just us and Dostom's men out there. We can call in air strikes, but if things go south, we're on our own. Siger turns towards Tyson. David, you probably know more about Dostum than anyone else. Can he fellers in? Tyson stands to face his new team.

Well, Dostum leads the Uzbek faction in Afghanistan. He started off fighting for the communists and switched sides and fought for the Mujahideen. Then he switched again to fight against the Northern Alliance. But when the Taliban emerged, he've rejoined the alliance. One of the team raises his hand. He's Mike Spann, the CIA Special Opsman,

tasked with overseeing logistics and prisoner interrogations. So you're saying he changed his allies the way most of us change socks? Exactly. But in Afghanistan, that's just the way the game is played. Should we trust him? Well, kind of. There's a story he used to execute people by tying them to the treads of his tank. But as far as Afghan warlords go, he's the best option we've got.

Listening to himself, it begins to dawn on Tyson just how dangerous this mission is going to be. Eight men dropped behind enemy lines, and their chief ally is a general who's broken almost every alliance he's ever made. But the memories of those burning towers on 9-11 are etched deep into Tyson's mind. And he knows that every member of his team is utterly dedicated to striking back, no matter the risk. Mid-October 2001, the day after Team Alpha's operational briefing, Toshkent, Uzbekistan. David Tyson lowers his assault rifle and stares down the crumbling Soviet-era gun range.

His target is peppered with a wildly inaccurate spray of bullets. God damn it. Justin Sapp takes the rifle from Tyson and reloads it. Yeah, the AK kicks like a mule. It's different to the M16s you've probably trained with. Sap is a green beret, a member of US Army special forces who's providing combat support to Team Alpha. He's brought Tyson to this archaic gun range for some last-minute training.

Most of Team Alpha have paramilitary expertise, but Tyson is there for his language skills and his knowledge of the country. Sapp hands the rifle back to Tyson and points to a small mechanism to the right of the gun's trigger guard. The key is to keep your fire setting on semi-automatic, not full auto. On full-auto, the barrel pulls to the right. You'll hit everything except your target. Tyson raises the AK to his shoulder once more.

He checks the fire setting, exhales, and squeezes the trigger. October 17, 2001. Mission day one, before dawn. Tyson braces himself as the Black Hawk helicopter he's in shakes with turbulence. All right, boys. Seems we've got a sandstorm here. Looks about 10,000 feet, so we're going in and run than over. That's told on time. Up ahead, Tyson sees the helicopter carrying the other half of Team Alpha

vanish into the huge sand tempest and now confronts them like a giant war. Tyson's flown into Afghanistan before, but this time it's different. He's not flying in to negotiate with warlords, but to overthrow the Taliban. He holds on for dear life as the helicopter is thrown about by the storm. As they emerge from the sandstorm, Tyson presses his face to the window and sees a glowing patch of light on the valley floor. Looks like we've got our landing zone. Team Alpha 1, descending to LZ now.

Tyson watches as the other Black Hawk descends. Dostum was meant to have marked down the landing zone with a small fire, but it looks like he's rigged up every floodlight in northern Afghanistan. Below, Tyson sees Dostung's men approach the chopper, AK-47s in their hands. On noticing this, Sapp leans over to where Tyson is sitting next to Mike Span. Hey, you know these guys. What's the odds they've lured us?

here just to kill us. Tyson's thinking the same. He tries to control his nerves as he replies. Honestly, I give it 90% they're on our side. But with these guys, you can never be 100. Then the Black Hawk lurches again. To begin its descent. As dawn breaks over the valley, Tyson and team alpha leader J.R. Seeger approached the low concrete hut. We're there to have their first meeting with Dostun. But before they can enter, a guard steps forward to block their path. He gestures at their feet and their rifles. Tyson turns to Siga.

They want us to take off our boots and leave our guns out here. It's Afghan custom. Well, I'll lose the boots, but I'm not leaving the weapon. We don't know this Dostom guy, and he ain't no mother Teresa. Tyson explains the situation to the guard. who is surprised by his ability to speak Uzbek. Eventually, he relents and mess them through. Inside the hut, Dostom is relaxing on a sofa with another man.

He immediately leaps out. Hello, my American friends. Come, have some tea with us. Dostom is a bearer of a man, well over six feet tall with an imposing presence. He motions to cushions arranged on the floor. Come, sit. We must discuss.

how we will kill the Talibs. Tyson and Siga sit cross-legged. Dostom gestures to one of the other men who is reclining on a cushion. This is Muhammad Mahakik. Our Hazara friend, he will fight with us. Tyson nods. The Hazaras are part of the Northern Alliance

and victims of horrific ethnic cleansing under Taliban rule. The CIA is well aware of their warlord Mohakik, but Siga is more worried about who isn't there. It's very good to meet you both in person. We know of your struggle against the Taliban. But tell me, where is Commander Atah? Atah is nothing.

We will defeat the Taliban without him. All we need is your American bombers. Yes? Our men are brave, but they only have horses and Kalashnikovs. The Taliban have rockets, RPGs, everything. But with your planes behind us, we will kill every Taliban. in Afghanistan. Even so, we need to move fast. Before winter, the horses don't like the cold.

Tyson and Siga try to hide their concern. Atta represents the Tajik dominated faction within the Northern Alliance, and Dostom's rivalry with him is an operational risk. If the anti-Taliban alliance descends into infighting, the war is already lost. They need to find a way to bind the rival factions together, at least until they take Mazar y Sharif, the city that is key to controlling northern Afghanistan. Three days later, October 20th, 2001. Mission Day 4. Tyson's legs burn with pain. His back feels like it's being pummeled with a hammer. Team Alpha has been riding with Dostom's men for hours. There are no roads on these remote mountains. This army fights on horseback, crossing the valleys and dried riverbeds at the Hindu Kush.

But the Afghan saddle is like nothing Tyson has ever ridden before. It's carved from wood, covered with carpet, and utterly excruciating to ride on. Dostom counters over, flashing a broad smile. David, David, look at that. Afghanistan's finest horseman. Dostom gestures to another member of Tiber of Tatar. in Alpha, is gripping the reins of his unruly horse for dear life and almost falling off. Dostum and his officers have taken a shine to Tyson, which he assumes is down to his natural

way with Uzbek. They've even nicknamed him, older brother David. Tyson nods at Dostum, trying not to grimace with pain. He watches the warlord right ahead one-handed, while using his teeth to tear open the foil of an American ration pack. Dostom bites down on the toaster pastry inside with obvious pleasure. David, I love your American food. You must tell your airmen to drop more. Later that day, Tyson lies on his belly at the edge of a high ridge. Through binoculars, he can see the tiny figures of Taliban fighters scurrying like ants.

Dostom lying next to him, nudges Tyson in the ribs. You see them, David? You see the little Talib shits. We should attack them now. Tyson motions for Dustin to wait. Then turns to Team Alpha's radio operator. We got anything in the area? The operator nods and picks up his radio transmitter.

Eagle, this is Alpha. Copy? You're cleared to engage. Once again, cleared to engage. Over. Alpha, this is Eagle. Copy that. Over. Tyson turns back to Dostom

and points towards the Taliban lines. Two giant B-52 bombers swoop across the sky. They look incongruously graceful as they glide towards the Taliban's position and drop their payloads. Even though the target is miles away, the ground shakes under Tyson's body. A huge cheer goes up from the Northern Alliance soldiers

wins see America's air power for the first time. Dostum is ecstatic, slapping Tyson in the back. Excellent, David. Excellent. I love America. Tyson raises his binoculars, only to see through the dust that the bombs have actually fallen wide of the Taliban camp, with the enemy soldiers running back and forth in obvious panic. Goddamn bombs missed.

We didn't even hit them. David, it doesn't matter. Look at the Talibs. See how they run and fear. Now they know that I, Dostom, have brought the Americans to fight for Maza-I-Sharif. They are scared. We will win this war, David. We will win this war.

October 22nd, 2001. Mission Day 6. Team Alpha leader, J.R. Seeger, looks across a bare concrete room at Northern Alliance Command. utter Uttar Muhammad Nour. Atta stares back. He's a thin man with a wiry black beard and a sullen, aggressive expression, the opposite of Dostom's larger-than-life Barak's humour.

Siga sioux sioux then leans forward. Thank you for meeting me. Atta ignores the greeting. Instead, he just stares back. Siga tries to ignore the passive-aggressive silence. I'm hoping we can combine everyone's forces in the advance on Mazur-I-Sharif. We're all fighting the terrorists who have ruined your country. Atta leads the Tajic faction of the Northern Alliance,

but is also a rival of Dostoum and Mohakik. Siga has split off from the rest of Team Alpha to meet Atta and try to persuade him to cooperate with the other factions, but Atta's expression darkens, Once again. You are riding with Dos Tum. You have given him much money. Me?

He only give me a few hundred thousand dollars. I am the general commander of resistance in the north. You should have come to me first. Seeger maintains his poker face. Dealing with the leaders of these factions isn't too far removed from running a spy, always having to balance hard-nosed interests with ego and vanity. General. Of course, we respect and admire you and your warriors. As we approach Mazhei Sharif, we will supply more weapons and more money.

The United States is committed to defeating these terrorists together. Siga can see Atta is heartened with these words. But he also knows that the entire mission now rests on trying to hold these rivals' fractious alliance together. Later that day, Tyson takes advantage of a short break to stretch his legs, while holding his horse's reins. They've been riding hard for five days, and Maza Ishaif is still almost three weeks away. Tyson paces on the spot, trying to get blood flow back into his numb and legs. A few feet away, Dostum has just ended a conversation over a satellite phone.

David, do you know who that was? It was Vladimir Putin's interpreter. He invited me to a meeting of central Asian leaders in Tajikistan. But I told him, I am busy, and that I have new friends now. Dostom gives Tyson a playful slap on the back. Friends, until Mazar is Sharif, right? After that, who knows? Tyson returns Dostum's smile.

He knows exactly what he's insinuating. Sure. You'll use us until we get to Mazar, and we'll use you. And after that, maybe a new arrangement will have to be made. Ah, see? Now you are thinking like an Afghan. You know, Osama bin Laden believes you will leave Afghanistan the moment one American dies, just like you did in Lebanon and Somalia. We know how this works. 500 of my men can die, but not one American.

That's why Al-Qaeda has sent Pakistani hit squads out to find and kill you. I think you'll all run away afterwards. Dostom catches Tyson's worried look at the mention of hit squads and gives another broad smile. Don't worry. You see how my men follow you everywhere? I set them as bodyguards. I told them, I need the Americans.

I need their bombs and guns. And I told them, if anything happens to you Americans, I'll cut their heads off. The early hours of the next day. Mission Day 7. Team Alpha leader J.R. Seeger watches Dostum pace on a small, rocky outcrop. Surrounded by several hundred of his soldiers, their eyes fixed on their leader, silhouetted against the evening sun.

Man, soon we march for Maza-isharif. Soon, we fight the table. And when we do, we must slaughter them. We must blow them apart. We must crush them under our horses. We must cut them down and slit their throats. A few weeks ago, they fired their artillery at me. But did I die?

No, because I am Dothoom. They are the ones who will. fear us. With our new American friends, we will raid fire on them. They should feel honored to die at our hands. These Taliban deserve no mercy. We will destroy them. And God willing, we shall wipe them from the earth. Dostun hops down from his makeshift podium with a wide smile on his face, clearly enjoying the adulation. Then he seems to notice Siga looking on and approaches, giving a mischievous win. I know what you're thinking. This man, Dostun, is a barbarian.

And you must understand, I'd talk like this to my soldiers, so they follow me. But I'm a civilized man. I've owned two Cadillacs. Siga, previously unaware that Cadillac ownership was the entry bar for civilization. can only smile in response. Later that morning, Tyson keeps pace with one of Dostun's officers as they ride across the barren hillsides. He's slowly learning to master the Afghan horses,

though the small wooden saddle still digs painfully into his thighs. Riding with them is Team Alpha's medic, Mark Rassenberger, and they're headed to the site of last night's American Airdrop. They're expecting several pallets of rations, and AK-47s for Dostom's troops, and those supplies need to be secured. As they reached the drop site, Tyson sees an elderly man

has clambered onto one of the pallets. He's rail thin and dressed in the patched-up robes of the poorest Afghan peasants. Dostom's men have sent warnings to the local villages about trying to steal U.S. supplies, but the poverty here is so intense that this man couldn't resist. Dostom's officer leaps from his horse

And without a word He sprays the old man with a burst of fire from his rifle Tyson stares in horror As the man falls from the palate And lies bleeding in the ground Roussenberger jumps down from his own horse And instinctively rushes over to try and save the man's life But Dostom's officer raises the butt of his rifle

Almost as if he's about to strike the medic because he kneels beside the dying man. Don't waste supplies on him. He's a thief. They were warned. Now forget him and help me secure the crates. Rousenberger stands, fists clenched, a look of fury in his eyes.

He's just about to start towards the officer, but Tyson grabs his arm. Tyson is just as outraged as the doctor, but there is too much at stake in the fight against al-Qaeda to stir up trouble. with Dostom's inner command. Sometime later, on a dusty hillside,

Tyson watches one of Dostom's officers arguing with a local shepherd. The shepherd is terrified, but is still refusing to hand over some of his sheep to help feed Dostom's army. Finally, Tyson can no longer take the man's look of desperation. He strides over and holds out a $100 bill. For your sheep,

the shepherd's eyes widened. Then he snatches the bill as if it might disappear. He pushes the sheep towards the officer, but looks furious. What are you doing? You're crazy to give him so much money. Tyson knows that $100 is an absurd price. It's probably what the shepherd makes in six months. But it's also the smallest banknote the CIA sent them into Afghanistan with.

Why does it matter? It's my money. Okay, rich American. It's your sheep now. You take care of it. The Afghan officer unsheathes his knife and hands is a Tyson, obviously expecting Tyson to slit the animal's throat

then and there. Tyson looks from the officer to the shepherd and then back at the sheep. All three seem to be staring at him expectantly. The tension builds, but his hands won't seem to move. Then he feels a sudden wave of a revulsion and holds out the knife for the officer. to take back. David, you call bombs from the sky, but you can't kill a sheep.

Perhaps you bought it as a companion. This must be one of your infidel American customs. The next day, mission day eight. The wind whips across Tyson's face as he rides with Fahir, one of Dostom's closest lieutenants. He's now dressed in an Afghan Shalwaqamese. The loose fitting traditional Afghan costume, making the ride marginally more comfortable. They're leading about 30 cavalry on a scouting mission ahead of the main force. Fakhir raises his hand, and the troops slow their horses with expert discipline. He points into the distance. There, you see? Squinting, Tyson can just make out a flashing glint of light that he would never have spotted alone. He raises his binoculars and sees several pickup trucks crammed with armed figures. Fahir raises his own binoculars.

Ansar Brigade. Al-Qaeda. The Ansar Brigade is Al-Qaeda's division of foreign fighters in Afghanistan. They are highly trained, well-armed, and utterly fanatical. The elites of the Taliban-aligned forces. Fakhir turns to Tyson. Can we bomb them? Tyson shakes his head. We've got no air support nearby. It would take too long. then we should retreat back to camp. But before they can move off, the Al-Qaeda pickups in the distance turn and begin speeding towards them.

They've been spotted. There is no choice now but to fight. David, you take position here, we'll fight from the other side. Tyson jumps down from his horse. He and his Afghan bodyguard flattened themselves amongst the scrubby vegetation as the rest of the men wheel their horses to the left. Six Toyota Hylux trucks skid to a halt.

Dozens of Al-Qaeda fighters leap out and start firing up here's horse mountain troops. Tyson suddenly realizes that with their focus on the cavalry, the answer fighters haven't spotted him. He stares down the sight of his AK-47. He can see the Al-Qaeda fighters running forward. He has won directly in his crosshairs. Remembering his training, he checks his rifle is set to semi-automatic. Then he calls the trigger.

The bullets catch the Al-Qaeda fighter in a torso, and he immediately falls. Seeing one of the enemy go down, Fakhir gives the signal. Charge! Fagir's troops thunderfall, firing their rifles from the horseback. Staring through his sight, Tyson picks off two more of the Al-Qaeda fighters, then takes aim once again. Tyson picks his way. through the aftermath of the firefight.

Fahir's cavalry charge swept straight through the unsurfed fighters, decimating them. Now his soldiers are finishing off the wounded with their knives and searching their bodies for loot. Tyson watches two soldiers arguing over a pair of sneakers

taken from a dead fighter. Then it hits him. He just killed several people. Tyson doesn't feel regret just a numb, matter-of-fact acceptance. He makes his way over to the body of the first fighter he shot. He bends over and pulls a bayonet from the man's belt. Engraved on the steel is the date 1913,

and the scuff outline of a crown. Tyson realizes that this must be a British bayonet, a leftover from some imperial campaign before World War I. Suddenly, his mind flashes back to Ahmed Shah Masud years before, describing Afghanistan as the graveyard of empires. Gazing down at the bayonet, glinting in the afternoon sun, Tyson wonders how many more people he will be forced to kill on the road to Maza Isharif. And however much he believes in his mission here,

if Afghanistan is perhaps changing him more than he will ever manage to do. change it. You've been listening to The Spy Who, an Audible original. Have you got a spy story you'd like us to tell? Email your ideas to the spy who at audible.com. A quick note about the scenes you've been hearing. In most cases, we can't know exactly what was said. Those scenes are dramatizations, but they're based on rigorous research and the best

available sources. If you'd like to know more about this story, we recommend first casualty by Toby Hardin and Bush at War by Bob Woodward. The Spy Who is hosted by me, Raza Jaffrey, produced by Audible with Yellow Ant. This episode was written by J.S. Raphael and researched by Louise Byrne. The senior producer was Jay Priest. The sound designer was Joshua Morales. For Yellow Ant, the story editor and executive producer was Tristan Donovan.

For Audible, the executive producers were a series. Stelle Doyle and Theodora LeLudis. Head of Production Audible Europe, Chris Jones. Senior Director of Originals, Lisa Higginson. Head of Audible Originals International, O'Ali de Troil. Sound recording, copyright 2026 by Audible Limited. Follow the Spy Who on the Audible app or wherever you get your podcasts. You can listen to all episodes of The Spy Who, add free by joining Audible.

Hey, it's Mike Corey, host of Against The Odds from Audible originals. In our latest episode, Sujo John tells the story of surviving 9-11 in his own words, his escape from the World Trade Center's North Tower, and his desperate search for his pregnant wife, Mary. Listen to Against the Odds on Audible or wherever you get your podcasts.