The Spy Who - The Spy Who Wouldn't Lie | The Tiger Stirs | 1

Episode Date: April 29, 2024

It’s June 1940 and the German forces are closing in on Paris. Noor Inayat Khan escapes to Britain just in time but is determined to return to Nazi-occupied France as a radio operator for Britain’s new covert ops agency. But her recruiters encounter a problem: she strongly believes it is wrong to lie.Listen to The Spy Who ad-free on Wondery+ in the Wondery App, Apple Podcasts or Spotify. Start your free trial by visiting wondery.com/links/the-spy-who now. See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Wondery Plus subscribers can binge full seasons of The Spy Who early and ad-free on Apple Podcasts or the Wondery app. It's June 17th, 1943. Beneath a full moon, the pilot of an RAF Lysander flies fast and low over northern France. His plane is designed to carry just one passenger. But tonight, there are two women squeezed into the rear cockpit. They're both spies, and they're about to be dropped behind enemy lines. One of them stands out from the other spies he's previously flown into France. She's a slight 29-year-old with brown hair, dark skin, and large doe eyes. Her name is Noor Anayat Khan,

and she's the first female radio operator Britain sent into Nazi-occupied France. The pilot shouts back at them. How are you ladies holding up back there? Khan responds. It's cramped, but we're OK. Well, it's not long until we land now. I hope you're ready. Yes, we're ready. But deep down, Khan's nervous.

It's why she can't stop playing with the silver bird badge that's pinned to the lapel of her green oilskin coat. Khan spent the past six months training to become an agent of the Special Operations Executive, the SOE. The SOE is a British spy agency and its job is to run covert operations behind enemy lines. Khan joined to help France, the country she regards as home, but it's been three years since she was last here. Khan twists her body round to get a better view out of the window. The Lysander's flying so low that it's almost skimming the treetops.

She sees the lights of a city ahead and calls out to the pilot. Excuse me, what city is that over there? Angers. Your country's very beautiful, especially by moonlight. Thank you. My name's... No, no names. The pilot prefers not to know his passengers' names. And that's because few SOE agents make the return trip. The pilot looks down at his controls and curses to himself. He forgot to switch off the plane's radio transmitter. They've been broadcasting ever since they took off from England. The Germans will have heard every word they've said. The odds of these women surviving were never great. And now, they just got a whole lot worse. From Wondery, I'm Indra Varma, and this is The Spy Who. Beneath the veneer of the everyday lurks the realm of the spy.

It's a dark, dangerous world full of shadowy corners, sinister motives and corrupted morals. A place of paranoia and infiltration, sabotage and manipulation. In this season, we head into Nazi-occupied France to follow the footsteps of Noor Inayat Khan. She was the first female radio operator Britain sent into enemy territory. A children's author descended from Indian royalty who accepted one of the most dangerous spy missions of World War II. What you're about to hear are dramatized reconstructions based on real events and the information that's been made public. But remember, in the shadow realm of the spy, the full story is rarely clear.

You're listening to The Spy Who Wouldn't Lie, Episode 1, The Tiger Stirs. June 4th, 1940. Three years before Noor Anayat Khan's moonlit flight to France. On the outskirts of Paris, Khan sits on the steps of her family home. The house is a sprawling mansion set amid beautiful gardens that overlook the French capital. It's also home to the Sufi order in the West, which her late father founded. The building is a hub for followers of this mystical branch of Islam. They call it Fasel Manzel, the House of Blessing. But the curse

of Nazi Germany is about to cast its shadow. Kahn is a writer and poet and has chosen this spot with its views of the city to compose a poem. Her younger brother, Vilayet, approaches and sits on the steps beside her. Khan looks out across Paris towards the Eiffel Tower. Do you hear that? It's getting closer. Above the city, planes are circling. The air raids have begun. Germany's armies won't be far behind.

Viliot narrows his eyes. See the smoke behind the Sacré-Cœur? We must do something. We can't just sit here. Khan turns to her brother. But what can we do? Father always taught us that we must resist violence by peaceful means. Yes, he did. But what if a Nazi soldier took 20 people hostage and was about to kill them? If you had the chance to kill that Nazi and did nothing, would you not be an accomplice to those deaths? Kahn flinches, startled by both the gunfire and her brother's words. So what should we do? Vilayet looks at the smoke thickening in the air above Paris and makes a suggestion. If we stay here, we will either be forced to fight or surrender. So,

we must leave. But where can we go? Nowhere in France is safe now. Then we go to England. Perhaps there we can help with the war effort. The two siblings decide this is their best option. If they can get to somewhere safe, they can escape being drawn into direct conflict. But they know they must leave soon, or it'll be too late. They head indoors to tell their mother and younger sister Claire to pack their belongings and say goodbye to the House of Blessings. The following day, on the road heading south from Paris, Kahn sits in the passenger seat of the family car. Villiard is at the wheel, eyes fixed on the slow-moving traffic.

In the back seat, Kahn's mother and her younger sister Claire are holding hands. It seems as if all of Paris is trying to escape the German advance. Hundreds of people are walking, clutching their most valued possessions. Others travel by bike. Some are on horseback. Vilayet drives the family car in silence, while Kahn runs her mother and sister through their plan. Once we get out of Paris, the traffic should clear.

Then we'll drive to Tours, take the train to Bordeaux and find a boat to England. Khan's mother is no stranger to travel. She was born in America and accompanied her late husband as he moved around the world. But this journey is making her anxious. But look at the roads, they're packed. It will take hours. We should just turn around and go home. Khan glances at her brother, but his face is impassive and his eyes fixed on the road ahead. Eliott, perhaps mother is right. Maybe it's futile trying to escape. Up ahead, Khan sees an elderly man struggling to push a cart laden with belongings.

I feel as if we're abandoning Paris in its hour of need. Villiot opens his mouth to reply, but is silenced by the shriek of an aircraft. The German fighter swoops low over the throngs of fleeing people. Khan ducks instinctively. May Allah help us. A German bomb drops onto a car ahead of them. They watch helpless as several vehicles burst into flames. The smell of burning tires and flesh fills the air.

Khan opens the door to go and help, but Vilayat pulls her back into the car. No, we have to leave. If you try to help now, you'll get yourself killed. We can help once we reach England. Khan looks behind them. Swarms of Luftwaffe bombers are now circling Paris. As Vilayet drives on, Khan sees the elderly man. He's face down in a ditch next to his overturned cart. Karn reaches through to the back seat for her mother's hand. It doesn't seem enough, Valiat. Will we really be able to do anything useful in England?

Valiat doesn't respond immediately, but then he speaks with an edge she hasn't heard before. When we get to England, I am going to join the Royal Air Force. I will fight. Khan doesn't know what to say. She believes that fighting is wrong, but so too is doing nothing. She planned to become a nurse on reaching Britain, but she now wonders if nursing's enough when faced with this evil. Two weeks later, the road to the port of Verdun-sur-Mer on the Atlantic coast of France. Khan jumps onto the back of the motorbike and wraps her arms around Vilayat. Noor, hold tight. Vilayet hits the throttle. The motorbike shoots forward through the countryside towards the docks.

Khan tightens her grip on her brother and shuts her eyes as air blasts her face. It's been two weeks since Khan and her family fled Paris, which has now fallen to the Nazis. Ever since, they've been desperately trying to secure passage to Britain. To find a ship, Kahn and Villiott split up. Kahn went in search of a British Red Cross vessel, only to find it had already left. But in the meantime, Villiott secured passage on a small Belgian cargo ship. His mother and younger sister are already on board, but now he needs to get Khan and himself on board before it departs. Khan opens her eyes as Vilayat yells at people in their path. Move! Move! Over Vilayat's shoulder, Khan sees the steamship up ahead. The crew are preparing

to set sail. They know the captain won't wait. German forces are closing in and France is about to surrender. As they pull to a stop, the ship's mate is untying the vessel. Khan and Vilayat abandon the motorbike, run to the boat and jump on board. Minutes later, the ship steams out of the harbour. Khan stands on the deck and looks at the people left behind at the harbour, each one of them desperate to escape. Khan feels guilty for leaving. I promise we shall come back.

And she means it. Her father always said that to lie was one of the worst sins. France is now in the grip of the Nazis. Its future is uncertain. The only thing Khan can be sure of is that she always keeps her word. And war won't stop her. London, August 1942. Two years after Noor Anayat Khan and her family fled to England. In an office in Baker Street, Vera Atkins takes a drag of her cigarette. She's a fine-boned, handsome woman and an officer at the Special Operations Executive, or SOE, the top-secret agency created by Prime Minister Winston Churchill to run covert operations behind enemy lines.

She peers at the small, uniformed woman sitting in front of her. Noor is a few years younger than Atkins and wearing a Women's Auxiliary Air Force uniform. Noor hopes to join the SOE. Miss Kahn, you're currently a radio operator for the WAF. Do you enjoy the work? Very much. When I came to England, I planned to be a nurse, but being in the WAF. Do you enjoy the work? Very much. When I came to England, I planned to be a nurse, but being in the WAF feels closer to the action. I like coding, decoding and transmitting messages. It's better than packing parachutes, although... go on. Well, France is my home and I wish I could do more. Like my brother, he's in the RAF.

Atkins exchanges a glance with a man sitting next to her. He's Maurice Buckmaster, the head of the SOE's French section. Buckmaster's in his forties with thinning hair that makes him seem older. He leans forward in his seat. Well, you may be in luck, Miss Kahn. You are fluent in French, you know France, and you know how to operate a radio. We have roles that might suit you very well.

Atkins flicks ash from her cigarette into an already overflowing ashtray and looks at Kahn. Yes, but these would be very dangerous roles. You will be dropped back into occupied France with a radio and you become the link between us and members of the resistance forces there. You will have to code their messages home and decode the ones we send back. I can do that, all while also being hunted by the Nazis. And if they catch you, you will most likely be shot. The Geneva Conventions do not apply to spies.

I'll do it. Atkins takes another drag on her cigarette. Take a moment to think about it. I don't need to. I speak French. I know Paris. I'll be of more use there than I am here. There's no extra pay. The only reward is knowing you played your part. Buckmaster picks up Kahn's file. I see you were a children's author and child psychologist before the war. You might do more good by carrying on so you can bring some

hope and joy to children scarred by the conflict once it's over. I want to play my part now. Buckmaster checks Khan's file again. Let's talk about your background. Indian father, American mother, born in Moscow, a few years in England, then France. Yes, my father was a Sufi preacher. He met my mother while traveling. They fled Russia during the revolution. I was very young when we lived in London. Most of my childhood was in France. You're also the great, great, great granddaughter of Tipu Sultan, the Indian emperor also known as Tiger of Mysore. Yes, that's right.

So where exactly do your loyalties lie? I'm sorry? I don't understand the question. You are part Indian and a descendant of Indian royalty. Surely you have a view on Indian independence? Gandhi says that the British are the enemy. What do you say? Khan hesitates for a moment.

But her father always taught her that to lie was the greatest sin of all. Well, I think India should be independent. Buckmaster raises an eyebrow. So your loyalty is to India and not the crown? For as long as the war with Germany continues, I will always be loyal to the British crown. After the war, that may change. Thank you, Miss Kahn. That will be all.

As Kahn leaves the room, Atkins extinguishes her cigarette and looks at Buckmaster. What do you make of her? I say we put her forward for training. I like her spirit. She's honest, unafraid of the truth, and Lord knows we need more radio operators. Yes, but straightforward and honest aren't exactly the qualities we're looking for. If she falls into the hands of the Gestapo, she will have to lie convincingly. Still, I agree that her radio skills are promising. Perhaps we should put her into training and see how she gets on. Seven months later, March 1943, Surrey. On the grounds of an old Elizabethan manor, Khan and other SOE trainees are learning to shoot.

The weapons instructor barks at the trainees. Shooters to the point. Khan steps up to the mark, pistol in hand. She is sweating slightly and her heart is racing. Load and make ready. Trembling, Khan cocks her pistol, raises it, puts her finger on the trigger and aims at the target at the far end of the firing range. Commence firing.

The other trainees open fire, but Khan hesitates and then loses her grip on the pistol. The gun falls to the ground. She stoops to pick it up. Stop! What is wrong with you, Khan? You just dropped a loaded pistol! Khan feels like crying. She's proved herself as a wireless operator and a fast runner,

but she's already been excluded from parachute training and it seems like weapons will be next. The instructor points to the target. If that was a Nazi, you'd be dead by now. Yes, sir. Stand down. I'd rather try again, sir. The instructor pauses,

then nods to indicate she's got permission to try again. Khan picks up the gun and steadies herself. She points at the target. Now, fire. Khan shoots. She's wide of the target, but she keeps hold of the gun this time. This is what her training's for. She's learning to overcome her fear,

and that can only make her stronger. Two months later, Great Morven, Worcestershire. Khan pedals her bicycle as fast as she can through the countryside with her radio equipment concealed in a picnic basket. She's on a training exercise and on a deadline. Her task today is to get to a safe house and send a coded radio message at the appointed time. If she's late, she'll fail the test. The traffic light up ahead turns to red,

but there's no traffic and no one else around, so she keeps going. Stop! Khan stops and turns around to see a policeman emerge from behind a tree. The policeman confronts her. Didn't you see the red light? Yes, but I didn't see you or I wouldn't have done it. Are you trying to be funny? It's an offence to cross a red light. Where are you headed?

To Great Morven. I need to get there soon. You see, I'm training to be a secret agent and I need to make a transmission. The policeman stares at Khan in disbelief. I can show you my wireless transceiver if you'd like. It's in my picnic basket. The policeman takes out his notebook and writes this down. He doesn't believe a word.

Secret agents are supposed to keep secrets, not blurt them out. A few days later, the SOE training school in Bewley, Hampshire. Khan wakes with a start as a man bursts into her room. He hauls her out and marches her down the dark corridor in her nightdress. Through the windows, she sees it still dark outside. What's happening? Who are you? The man shoves her into a side room and shuts the door. Sit.

Khan is pushed onto a metal chair. A bright torch shines in her face. She squints, but she cannot see who's holding it. What is your name? Norunaya Khan. Too late. She realizes that she should have used the cover name her trainers gave her. I mean... Too late for that.

We know exactly who you are. You're an Indian agitator. Who sent you to spy on us? Khan shakes with fear. No, no. My father was Indian, but I grew up in France. Please, I'm a children's author. Liar.

If you're a French children's author, why are you in Britain? I'm not a liar. It's the truth. I'm here to help Britain. Khan's chair is kicked out from under her. She crashes onto the cold stone floor. She sees her interrogator's boots in front of her and a few feet away, another pair of boots. Her panic mounts.

Please, please don't hurt me. Whose side are you really on? I told you, I'm with the British. I'm here to fight the Nazis. That's enough, Miss Kahn. Stand up. Someone get her a dressing gown. The torch is switched off and the ceiling light switched on. Blinking, Kahn realises her interrogator is none other than Maurice Buckmaster, the head of SOE's French section, who first interviewed her for the job. It was yet another test.

And she's failed again. A few days later, SOE headquarters Baker Street, London. In a meeting room, Buckmaster is chairing a crisis meeting with other senior officers. Gentlemen, Prosper's sub-circuit in Paris is in trouble. They've only got one radio operator and he's struggling to cope with the work. They need another urgently. Prosper is the SOE spy network in Northern France. Its members run reconnaissance and sabotage operations against the Nazis, and it's composed of various sub-circuits

that cover different areas. And right now, Prosper's Paris sub-circuit has just one radio operator who is struggling to stay in touch with SOE headquarters. Buckmaster brings the room to order. We need to send them a new operator on our next flight to France. Who do we have? One of the other officers looks alarmed. The SOE only flies agents into France when there's a full moon, and that leaves them with mere weeks to get a radio operator ready for the field.

That's sooner than anticipated. I'm not sure any of the trainees are ready. Whoever we pick, we'd have to cut short their training. We cannot risk the Paris sub-circuit losing the ability to communicate with us. If that happens, Prosper may as well not exist. We must send someone. The other officers avoid Buckmaster's gaze. No suggestions? Well, I propose we send Khan. One officer jolts upright. What? You want to send the potty princess? Good God, Morris, she'll be dead within days. Nonsense. She speaks perfect French.

She's not going to get herself noticed when she talks. She's too pretty. Every man will remember her once they've set eyes on her. I've never agreed with putting women into the field, but especially not an exotic creature like Khan. Man, woman, I don't care. God knows I have reservations about her too. She's too honest for her own good for a start.

But she's a very speedy signaller. That's vital in the field. She's fast, but she makes mistakes. And frankly, Morris, she's not exactly overburdened with brains. I don't approve of this plan. It's one thing to send women into the field to serve as couriers, but the job of a radio operator is far too dangerous a job for them. We need perseverance, not brains, and she's shown us that in spades.

Besides, no one else is nearly ready, and we must send someone. An awkward silence descends. Buckmaster knows they're questioning his decision. If Khan isn't up to the job, it's not just her own life at stake. It's the lives of the other agents she'd be working with. They know it's a big gamble to send her to Paris. But she's the best they have and a risk they're going to have to take. It's June 1943, and at the SOE headquarters in Baker Street, London, Leo Marx is working late.

He's a beady-eyed 22-year-old with a mop of dark hair and the SOE's chief cryptographer, overseeing the creation and decoding of its secret codes. He looks up from his papers as Maurice Buckmaster, the head of the SOE's French section, barges into his office. Ah, Buckmaster, what can I do for you this evening? Bloody canteen's shut. It's been a hell of a day and I'm starving. Well, I have some sandwiches from Perfect. Marx passes him the box of sandwiches he brings with him to work. Buckmaster devours them.

So, Buckmaster, what's up? Nora Nayak Khan, that's what. I'm listening. The Prosper Network needs a radio operator for Paris on the next flight in ten days' time. She's our best option, but not everyone's on board. Look at this. Buckmaster hands Marks a report on Khan. Coding unpredictable, absent-minded, scared of weapons, can't jump. I must say, she doesn't sound ideal. She's a complex character, Marx. She's a descendant of Indian royalty, an idealist, and before the war she was an author. Mark's interest picks up. His father owns a bookstore on Charing Cross Road.

An author? What has she written? A book of children's fables based on Buddhist legends. Twenty Jataka tales. And what is it you want from me? I think you'll understand her better than the others. Perhaps a little coaching from you will help hone her coding. Is that all?

Buckmaster finishes the last of Mark's sandwiches and pushes the box away. No, there is something else. Her father was some sort of crackpot who taught her never to lie under any circumstances. You want me to teach her to lie? I want you to teach her not to make mistakes. Think of her as a particularly challenging code that needs cracking. Intriguing. I'll see what I can do. As Buckmaster leaves, and in his office,

Marx watches as Kahn throws herself into the task he's given her. He's challenged her to encode a message, and she's doing it impressively fast. Kahn finishes writing and hands the coded message to Marx. He reads the code, decoding it in his head. You're quick, but you're still making mistakes. Very inventive mistakes, but mistakes all the same. I'm sorry. Kahn's tried several times already to encode an error-free message without success, and now she's almost tearful. Marx reaches into the drawer of his desk, removes his copy of 20 Jardica Tales and places it on the table.

You've read my book? I have. I enjoyed it very much. Particularly the story of the monkey chief who leads several thousand other monkeys to safety by offering his body as a bridge. Marx thumbs through the pages of Kahn's book, looking for the page he marked earlier. He finds it and looks up to see Kahn's huge eyes staring back at him expectant.

The thing is, Noor, coded messages have one thing in common with your monkey chief. If you jump too hard on them, you'll break their backs. And that is what you have done here. I don't understand. Marx doesn't answer immediately. He wants her full attention first. And that is what you have done here. I don't understand. Marx doesn't answer immediately. He wants her full attention first. You've told a lie in your code.

I've what? No, no, I never lie. I don't. Your mistakes make it hard for others to decipher your code. You've told them to decode your message using the wrong code group. What is that if it's not a lie? It's not a lie. It's a mistake. I didn't mean to get it wrong. If your mistake obscures the truth, then it's a lie.

And there are six lies in your message. Khan slumps back in her seat. I... I never thought of it that way. Let's try again. But this time, think of the text as monkeys trying to cross a bridge between Paris and London. If the monkeys fall off that bridge, they'll be caught and shot. But they can't cross the bridge by themselves.

They need you to guide them, one step at a time, giving them all your thoughts and protection. Khan sets to work, coding a new message with a look of intense concentration on her face. When she's finished, she runs her fingers across the message, as if feeling for imperfections. Then she hands it nervously to Marx. He scans the coded message and smiles. This is perfect. You got all those monkeys across the

bridge. I think you're ready. Kahn smiles and moves to leave, but Marx isn't finished yet. Wait. One last thing. And this is important. You must never, ever include a phrase that is 18 letters long in your messages. 17 letters, 19 letters is fine, but never 18. Why? It's a way for us to know it's really you. If we see an 18-letter phrase in one of your messages, we'll know that someone is pretending to be you or that you've been captured and are transmitting under duress.

Understand? Khan nods, smiles and heads for the door, ready to head for France. June, 1943. June 1943 Manetta's restaurant Mayfair London Khan follows SOE officer Vera Atkins through the restaurant to a corner table that's safely out of the earshot of other customers They pick up the menus but Khan isn't thinking about food

She's all set to go to france but now atkins has asked for a last minute meeting and khan is unsure why she looks at atkins vera is there something more something that i need to know before i go atkins leans back in her chair are you quite happy about going to Paris? Of course, it's what I've been training for. The thing is, Noor, we're impressed with your work. But some of the other women you've trained alongside have concerns about your suitability. They have? But why?

I've always got on well with the other women. They know my radio work is good. Is it to do with me? They wrote to me to say they think you might not be up to the job. I can't believe anyone would say that. This is what I'm here to do. Atkins leans across the table and looks intently at Kahn. Noor, if you have any doubts, it is not too late to turn back.

People have reached this stage before and changed their minds. But I haven't changed my mind. There's no shame in saying you don't feel up to it. It would be much worse to go out and let your colleagues down. I won't let anyone down. And I've already said my goodbyes to my family, which was the hardest thing I've ever done. I am ready, no matter what they say. Atkins smiles. I'm glad to hear it. In that case, let's order some food.

June 16th, 1943, West Sussex. Atkins drives her car into the RAF Tangmere with Khan in the passenger seat. She stops outside a small whitewashed ivy-covered cottage with green shutters in the windows. They then step out of the car into the afternoon sunshine. Atkins leads Kahn into the cottage and straight upstairs, past a smoke-filled room where several pilots are chatting. Kahn knows the pilots aren't supposed to meet the agents they'll be taking into France before the flight. In the upstairs room, Atkins opens the wardrobe.

Inside are a collection of clothes. Atkins turns to Kahn. Inside are a collection of clothes. Atkins turns to Khan. These are your clothes. Or rather, Jeanne-Marie's. Jeanne-Marie is Khan's cover name. She's supposed to be a children's nurse and she comes with a wardrobe of clothes fabricated to look as if they were made in France. While Kahn changes into her new outfit, Atkins goes over her instructions one final time. And do you remember your paroles for when you reached the safe house in Paris? Yes. I tell the old woman the password

and then she will reply, the case is ongoing. Good. Dressed again, Kahn stands in front of the mirror. How do I look? You look the part. Here, take this. Atkins hands Khan a handbag.

Inside, there's a French identity card, a ration book, and a pistol. Khan's other belongings, including her radio transmitter and the rest of her wardrobe, will be parachuted into France separately. Atkins steps closer. One more thing. Atkins takes a pill from her pocket and places it on Khan's hand. What's this? It's a way out, if you are captured and don't want to face questioning. Kahn takes the pill, then looks away and changes the subject. Oh, that's a beautiful brooch. Atkins has a small silver bird pinned to her lapel. Atkins removes it and pins it onto Kahn's green oil skin coat. I'd like you to have it. Perhaps it will bring you luck. Khan notices it's dark outside

now. Atkins answers the door. It's an RAF officer who will escort Khan to the plane. Khan and Atkins hug. Then Khan follows the officer out of the cottage and across the moonlit airstrip. She hears the plane's engine running, ready for takeoff. Her heart skips a beat. There's no turning back now. 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 first episode in our series The Spy Who Wouldn't Lie.

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 Spy Princess by Shrabani Basu. The Spy Who is hosted by me, Indra Varma. Our show is produced by Vespucci with writing and story editing by Yellow Ant for Wondery. For Yellow Ant, this episode was written by Lizzie Enfield and researched by Marina Watson. Our managing producer is Jay Priest.

For Vespucci, our senior producer is Natalia Rodriguez and our sound designer is Matt Peaty. 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, Jessica Radburn and Marshall Louis.