Um. Wandering Dushko, Popov wakes from his alcohol drenched slumber. Gestapo. Open up. It's 1937, and Popov's studying law in Freiburg, Nazi Germany. Open up. Popov drags himself out of bed. He's in his mid twenty s with short black hair. Yawning, he unlocks the door. Four Gestapo officers barge past. One confronts Popov as the others ransack his flat. Zushko Popov, you are under arrest. On what charge? The Gestapo officer punches Popov in the stomach. Popov crumples under the blow. Before he can recover, two officers grab him. They drag him outside to a waiting car, throw him into the vehicle's boot, and slam the door shut. Popov snaps awake as cold water hits his face. He's tied to a chair in a Gestapo interrogation room, and he's been there for days. Popov's interrogator tosses the metal bucket aside and leans in close. Admit it. You're a communist. That's ridiculous. You can't think. Listen, my father, he owns coal mines and factories. Why would I support communism? But I'm a yugoslav citizen and I want a lawyer. The interrogator takes a step back. If you're not a communist, why are you dating one? Because she's pretty. The interrogator's face flashes with anger.

A split second later, Pop off sees his fist hurtling towards his face. A train blasts its whistle as it thunders through the Swiss Alps. On the road, running alongside the tracks, a mercedes burns rubber. The man at the wheel checks he's keeping up with the train. He's Johnny Yebsen, Popoff's best friend. He's a wealthy German with a pencil mustache, and he's on a rescue mission. Yebsen screeches to a halt outside Basel train station. Just as Popov exits the station, Dushko Popov runs over. Johnny. What are you doing here? We can't have you taking a taxi after all you've been through. But how did you know I'd be here? Yepson smiles. Who do you think got you out? I got wind that you'd been arrested and called your father. He got the yugoslav government to step in. Popov climbs into the passenger seat. They were going to ship me out to a concentration camp. Well, you're here now. No, seriously. I thought I was done. Don't be silly. I owe you. Good. You can pay for dinner. I'm being serious. I owe you. Yebsen smiles. He won't forget that promise. And when he calls it in, Popoff will be transformed into one of the greatest secret agents of World War II.

Wandery plus subscribers can binge full seasons of the spy who early and ad free on Apple podcasts or the Wondery app.

Hello, I'm Emily, and I'm one of the hosts of terribly famous, the show that takes you inside the lives of our biggest celebrities. And they don't get much bigger than the man who made badminton sexy. Okay, maybe that's a stretch, but if I say pop star and shuttlecocks, you know who I'm talking about. No short shorts, free cocktails, careless whispers. Okay, last one. It's not Andrew Ridgley. Yep, that's right. It's stone cold icon George Michael. From teen pop sensation to one of the biggest solo artists on the planet. Join us for our new series, George Michael's fight for freedom. From the outside, it looks like he has it all. But behind the trademark dark sunglasses is a man in turmoil. George is trapped in a lie of his own making with a secret he feels would ruin him if the truth ever came out. Follow terribly famous wherever you listen to your podcasts, or listen early and ad free on Wandery plus on Apple Podcasts or the Wandery app.

From Wandery, 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. Every week, the spy who will take you inside that twilight realm, you'll hear true stories about the work of the world's intelligence services and follow spies on daring missions packed with danger, deceit, and double crosses. And we begin by retrieving the files on Dushko Popov. He's a serbian playboy who outfoxed Nazi Germany while living a life full of cocktails, women, and casinos. And he also helped inspire the most famous fictional spy of all time, James Bond. 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. This is the spy who inspired seven. Episode one a friend among foes. June 1940 Belgrade, Yugoslavia present day Serbia. Dushko Popov sits in the living room of his family home with his friend, Johnny Yebsen. Yebsen swirls the ice in his whiskey.

Obviously nervous, he downs the glass, then looks Popov in the eye. I need to tell you something, and I am trusting you with my life. Since the war began, I have been working with german intelligence. You're a Nazi now? God, no. I work for the abver, german military intelligence. Nothing like those secret police thugs in the Gestapo. The abver's totally separate. Popov scrutinizes his friend and sees a shadow of the charismatic playboy he used to know. It's only three years since Yebsen helped Popov escape the Gestapo, but the world changed beyond recognition. Back then, the Nazis were only cementing their control of Germany. Now Europe's at war, Poland's already fallen, and german forces are invading France. Yugoslavia is officially neutral, which makes it a hotbed of intrigue and espionage. Popov arches an eyebrow. But why get involved at all? What would you do if Yugoslavia was at war? I'd fight. Exactly. I still despise the Nazis, but my country's at war. It was a choice between this or military service. Also, in the abfair, I still get to travel outside Germany. Okay, but aren't you supposed to keep this secret? Why are you even telling me this?

Because I need your help. The Epson lights a cigarette, his hand slightly shaking. Popov can see the desperation on his friend's face. When you saved me from the Gestapo, I said I owed you. I didn't mean helping those bastards. You won't be helping them. You'll be helping me. And what exactly would I be helping with? Jebsen's face brightens. Well, France is about to fall. Even the german command was surprised by how quickly they collapsed. I've been tasked with identifying french politicians who are sympathetic to Germany and can be put in charge. I thought you could get the right names. Why do you need me for that? You were schooled in Paris. You have unique contact in the french political establishment. Also, you're a commercial lawyer from a neutral country who advises on international trade. You can ask around without arousing suspicion, unlike me. And you know what will happen to me if I give bad information. Popov is deeply conflicted. He loathes the Nazis, and not just because the Gestapo arrested him, but because of their desire to wipe out individual freedom and replace it with unthinking obedience. But Johnny is his dearest friend, and he owes him.

Okay, I was trying to stay out of this blasted war, but for you. Okay. Relief spreads across Yebsen's face. He retrieves an envelope from his inside pocket and slides it across the table. Here's the information I need, but be discreet. This isn't a game. There are always people watching. The British would love to know what the advers thinking, Popov feels a surge of fear, but also excitement. A dangerous new world is opening before him, and something in what Yebsen just let slip about the British has sparked a wild idea. Maybe he can help Yebsen and act against the Nazis. Three weeks later, Popov's chauffeur driven jaguar rolls to a stop outside the british embassy in Belgrade. Popov's driver, Bojidar, opens the door for him. Thank you, Bojidar. I'll be a few hours. Popov adjusts his tuxedo and heads inside. Tonight the embassy is hosting a soiree, and Popov's used his status as a well connected commercial lawyer to wrangle an invite. He takes a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and joins the crowd of dignitaries and socialites. He hones in on a group of young ladies. Excuse me. I just had to come over.

You ladies remind me of my years in Paris. Popov holds court, charming the women with effortless small talk. But all the while he's watching one man, Amin Dew, the british embassy's first secretary. At last, Dew slips out onto the terrace. Pop off sees his opportunity. Pop off follows Dew onto the terrace, checks no one else is nearby, and approaches him. Mr. Dew. Ah, pop off. Thanks for coming. Thank you for the invitation. I wanted to discuss something delicate. Can I count on your discretion? Of course. Go on. Say I had come into possession of some precise information being used by the abfair to plan Germany's administration of France. Would that be of interest? Well, the first thing I would ask is how you came by this information. Let's say the abfair consider me an asset. Dew gives Popov a look that sits somewhere between interest and suspicion. Well, then I would be extremely interested, yes. Popov moves closer to Dew and discreetly passes him an envelope containing a copy of the information he gathered for Yebsen and the abfair. Dew slips the document into his pocket. His Majesty's government is extremely appreciative, and if you ever do more work for the up there, I'm sure we'd also be interested in that.

Du nods goodbye and slips back inside. Popov drains his glass of champagne, then returns to the party and the group of young ladies. I'm relieved you're all still here. I was convinced you'd all be thrown out for making everyone else look dull. Two months later Belgrade. It's an early autumn morning, and in his Belgrade home, Popov wakes to the sound of his friend Johnny Yebsen, bursting into his huh? Johnny? What time is it. Forget about the time. We've got a serious problem. What problem? What are you talking about? Yedsen waves a bundle of papers in Popov's face. Yesterday, my commander ordered me to collect some evidence from an asset. That asset turned out to be your driver, Bojidar. They got him spying on you. He gave me this. A list of everywhere you've been in the past two months. Popov spent the past few months working for the abfair while keeping m I six informed of everything he learns. Bojadal's betrayal is deeply worrying, but Popov doesn't dare confess to Yebsen. So the abfair now know where my girlfriends live. What do I care? Dutchgo, you made six visits to the british passport office. I'm a lawyer.

I do business with british clients. I am allowed to work, aren't I? Don't give me that. This is me you're talking to. The ubair know the british passport office is m I six's headquartered in Belgrade. I don't know what kind of game you're playing, and it's better I don't. But you have a serious problem here, and that means I do, too. Popov walks over and grasps his friend's shoulder. All right, all right, I get it. I do. Leave Bojidar to me. Don't worry. I'll take care of it. Popov and Yebsen share a glance. Each of them knows they must now trust the other with their lives. Three days later, Popov is leaving his house with that morning's newspaper tucked under his arm. But as he opens the door, he sees Yebsen racing towards him, motioning him back inside. Johnny, what's wrong? What's wrong? Yebsen snatches the newspaper from under Popov's arm and points to a small article on the front page. They found Bodhidar's body by the rail yard. He was shot. Yes, I heard. It's very sad. I've offered to pay the funeral expenses. This isn't what I meant when I said take care of Bojidar.

Stop. You said yourself it's better. There are things you don't know. Bojidar was a criminal. Everyone knows he was involved in black market business. What happened at the rail yard is just a burglary gone wrong. Yebsen leans in close to Popov. And if I ever play dirty with you, would something that looks like a burglary happen to me? Pop off takes hold of Yebsen's upper arms, looks him straight in the eye, and grins. No because I know you would never play me dirty sometimes. I'm sorry I ever asked for your help. Well, at any rate, the abbey are actually very happy with your information. In fact, they've got a new assignment for you in Lisbon. Oh, now that is interesting. Be serious, Dushko. You'll be on your own. One mistake, and it'll be you found by the rail yard, then your family, and then me. The two friends look at each other once more. The mission to Lisbon is a clear escalation that will make Popov more valuable to both the ubfair and Mi Six. But Yebsen won't be there to protect him. December 1940 Lisbon, Portugal Popov sits outside a cafe, sipping an espresso and pretending to read a newspaper.

Portugal is a neutral country, and that's made Lisbon a haven for the wealthy and connected to escape the war. And that, in turn, has attracted an influx of spies from all sides. It's an ideal place for a double agent. As he finishes his espresso, a woman with blonde hair and a figure hugging dress approaches. She passes close by and winks. It's the signal Popov's been waiting for. Popov calmly folds his newspaper and follows her through the crowds. She leads him to a waiting car and they both slip inside. The car motors through the Lisbon traffic before stopping to let the woman out. Then the driver turns to Popov. Lie face down on the seat so you can't be seen. Pop off does as he is told, but now his fear's mounting. He doesn't know why the woman left the car or why he needs to stay hidden. But he does know that if the upfair have discovered that he's double crossing them, this journey will be his last. Hello, I am Alice Levine, and I am one of the hosts of Wondry's podcast, British Scandal. On our latest series, the race to ruin, we tell the story of a british man who took part in the first ever round the world sailing race.

Good on him, I hear you say. But there is a problem, as there always is in this show. The man in question hadn't actually sailed before. Oh, and his boat wasn't seaworthy. Oh, and also, tiny little detail. Almost didn't mention it. He bet his family home on making it to the finish line. What ensued was one of the most complex cheating plots in british sporting history. To find out the full story, follow british scandal wherever you listen to podcasts or listen early and ad free on Wondry plus on Apple podcasts or the wondry Appov lies face down on the back seat. As the car pulls into a garage, the driver speaks. You can get out now. The driver motions him towards a darkened corridor. Popov heads into the darkness. Then the corridor opens into the drawing room of an elegant villa. Before Popov stands a tall man in an expensive suit. Mr. Popov, welcome to the city of spies. I'm Ludovico von Karstov, abver commander here in Lisbon. I trust you're enjoying the Hotel Palazio. Popov doesn't allow himself to show any surprise that the ABVR know where he's staying, but it's now clear he's under surveillance.

Von Karstoff leads Popov into his study. So, Mr. Popov, your mission? We need you to go to London. London? You're wasted in Lisbon. We're preparing to invade Britain. We need intelligence from the center of London's war planning. And you're a man who moves in those circles. Do you think you'd have trouble traveling to London? Popov knows entering Britain won't be a problem. M I six can make it happen for him. Not that he can tell Fon Kastov that Yugoslavia is neutral. As far as the British are concerned, I'm just a businessman. I can pull some strings with the yugoslav ligation and get the paperwork. Excellent. This is precisely why we need men like you, men with contacts. Von Karstov unlocks a desk drawer and withdraws a small case. He places the case on the desk and opens it. Now listen, Popov. In this envelope is a list of the information we need. Naval defenses, troop movements, morale, things like that. Von Kastov moves on to the next item in the case. This is a Leica camera with a silent shutter for photographing documents. This vial contains invisible ink so you can send information back to us.

You'll receive training in how to use them before you leave. Very impressive. But to mix with London society, I will also need money. Von Karstav nods. Of course, you will be appropriately compensated. Just don't let us down. The two men eye each other as Popov considers the dangers of his new mission, a mission that will take him out of neutral territory and onto the front line. Popov sits in the passenger seat as his driver weaves through the rubble strewn streets of London and past burning buildings. Bombers roar overhead. Air raid sirens wail and bombs rain down. This is the blitz. Night after night, german air raids are pounding London into a wasteland. Popov's not returned to England since being sent to a prestigious but stuffy boarding school at the age of 16. He lasted three months before getting expelled for breaking the teacher's cane in two. But while his memories of England are far from happy, seeing the devastation up close only strengthens his resolve. The car stops outside the Savoy hotel, somehow unscathed and glittering amidst the destruction. Popov leaves the car and strides through the hotel doors. Inside, a tall, refined commander from the british intelligence service, MI five, is waiting for him.

Mr. Popov Tar Robertson I believe we have mutual friends at the embassy in Belgrade. Let's have a drink. Robertson leads Popov to the Savoy's american bar and orders two whiskeys. Robertson then turns to Popov. My colleagues overseas think highly of you, Mr. Popov. But if I'm honest, I have no reason to trust you or to believe you are not actually working for the Germans against us. Before Pop off can reply, the entire room shakes as a huge bomb explodes nearby. Popov freezes in shock. Robertson doesn't bat an eyelid. Popov quickly regains his composure and moves to answer Robertson's doubts. But Robertson raises his hand. Save your breath. You won't win my trust with a few words. I'll be assessing you over the next few days. But I'm not the only one you need to convince. It is now Popov's turn to maintain his composure. If he fails to convince the British that he's on their side, he's going to prison. Or the gallows. Surrey, England Popov follows Ta Robertson through a New Year's Eve party at a sprawling country house. He grabs a glass of champagne as he navigates his way past the high society guests.

Robertson leads him away from the party to an isolated oak paneled library. Inside the library, a balding man sitting in a leather chair is smoking a pipe by the fireplace. Sit down, Mr. Popov. We have much to discuss. Popov sits opposite in another leather chair. You can call me C. I run M I six. We handle foreign intelligence. Mr. Robertson and his friends at Mi five have asked me to help decide if you're trustworthy. And what's your assessment? Well, most of what you've told us has proven correct. That's in your favor. You're a wealthy man with a taste for adventure and beautiful women. You're ambitious, capable of extreme ruthlessness and thrive on a touch of danger. I went to Eaton. I know the type. Would you say that's a fair assessment? Yes, that's fair, though I thought I was speaking to a spy, not a psychoanalyst. The distinction is less than many think. You're clever and willing to take risks, and that gives you the makings of a very good spy. But you're not just a spy, are you? You're a double agent, and that's much more dangerous. So you better learn to follow orders, or you'll soon be a very dead spy.

The question is, can you follow orders? Listen. See, I've been in a nazi prison. I despise them with their brainwashing and desire to make everybody do what they say. Also, they hate all Slavs. They think I do this for money. But I have money. What I want is for them to lose this war, and I'll do whatever it takes. So, yes, I follow orders. C pauses to light his pipe before speaking. Well, we shall see, won't we? What we're going to do is create a fake spy network for you. A set of contacts who the Germans can verify exist through them and through you. We will feed the abver whatever information we choose. That sounds ideal. Nonetheless, this is a face to face business. No matter how much invisible ink you've been given, the abvare will expect you to go back to Lisbon to be debriefed. You'll need to keep your wits about you. One slip is all it takes. It's January 1941, and Popoff is back in Lisbon. At the nightclub of the Palazzio hotel. He lounges at a table with a beautiful french marquise with whom he's recently struck up a relationship. But right now he's only half paying attention to her.

And that's because the tall man in a gray suit who's been tailing him for days, is skulking in the corner of the room. Popov and the marquise turn as microphone feedback fills the room. On the stage, an obviously tipsy woman from a nearby table starts singing. The marquise rolls her eyes. Monju, I thought the war was bad. Popov winks and waves the waiter over. Please present this with our compliments to the singer. Popov places the cork from their champagne bottle on the waiter's tray. The marquis gives him a quizzical look. Popov smiles. I'm giving her a message. Put a cork in it. You're wicked. The singing stops as the waiter presents the singer with the cork and the room bursts into laughter. The singer runs off crying. A heavyset man from the singer's table rises and stomps towards Popoff. Hey, buddy, my wife didn't appreciate your little joke. We didn't appreciate your wife murdering that song. What did you say? The man lunges at Popov, who pushes him away. The man staggers back and trips over. The other men at the singer's table get up to come to his aid. Popov suddenly remembers that he's got both the ABV's instructions and Mi five's replies in his jacket pocket.

If he gets arrested for brawling, he'll be searched and outed as a spy. Popov turns to his date and stuffs the incriminating papers into her bag. Get back to our room. Now. The marquise senses the urgency in Popov's expression and races out the door. Popov turns back to face the group closing in on him, ready to fight. But then, out of the corner of his eye, he sees the man in the gray suit follow his date out of the door. Popov isn't sure who he's working for, but whoever it is, if he gets the papers she's carrying, Popov is a dead man. Popov turns and runs towards the exit. The men he was about to fight jeer in triumph. Yeah, you better run, chicken. Popov ignores the taunts. He has only one concern, getting to the marquis before the man in the gray suit. Popov bursts out of the nightclub into a deserted courtyard. He looks one way, then another. Popoff runs towards the sound. In the moonlight he sees the man in the gray suit struggling with the marquis, trying to rip her bag away from her. Popov sees the bag split open, spilling its contents over the floor.

In a flash, the man in the gray suit is on his knees, pawing after the papers. Pop off, picks up the pace, runs towards him and kicks the man in the head with full force. Blood and teeth scatter across the stone floor. The man in the suit collapses on the ground. Popov snatches up the envelopes, grabs his date and the two run off into the night. April 1941 Foncastov's Villa Eshtaril, Portugal Popoff and his spymaster von Karstov are working their way through a bottle of wine. Popov handed over the false information from Mi five weeks ago, but von Karstov still not revealed whether Berlin has fallen for the deception. I understand you had an encounter with one of our men at your hotel. Popoff stiffens, realizing von Karstov must be referring to the man in the gray suit whom he kicked in the head. But then Popov decides that if the UBF wanted to punish him for that, he'd already be dead. Oh, he was one of yours. All I knew is someone was following me, then attacked my date. Next time, perhaps. Let me know if you're keeping me under surveillance. Well, not to worry.

We can clean up the mess. In any case, I don't think that will be an issue anymore. The information you provided, Berlin has checked it through and is impressed. Your network in Britain is the most extensive we've ever achieved. You're now considered to be one of our best agents. Well, I find the British are very susceptible to a combination of charm and hard currency. Von Kasthoff smiles and pauses. More wine. In fact, they're so impressed that we now have a bigger mission for you. We need you to establish aspiring in the United States. America? But why? It's a neutral country. I'm not at liberty to say. But assessing the Americans'military preparedness is a top priority. I don't have contact in the US. I would be much more effective in Britain. Come, come, you've already proven how resourceful you are. We don't get to choose our missions, Duschko. This is where Germany needs you. Pop off struggles to stay calm as he contemplates this potentially catastrophic development. His position as a double agent depends on the support he gets from british intelligence. But in America, he will be alone and without protection. Two months later. Portugal.

Pop off walks along the beautiful Boca de Inferno cliffs with his friend Johnny Yebsen. It's the first time they've seen each other in eight months and pop off's reeling from the Nazis'successful invasion of his homeland, Yugoslavia. I should go home. My family are in danger. Don't be so stupid. You'll be throwing your life away. You may as well leap off these cliffs right now. There's nothing you can do there. So I just go to America and hope that the Nazis fascist Croat puppets leave my family alone? I'm pulling strings inside the abfair to try and keep them safe. But if you stop working for the abfare, they'll have no reason to protect them. You have to go. For their sakes. Popov falls silent. Yebsen uses the opportunity to change the topic of conversation. You know, there's a lot of focus on America now. They've just had me in Italy gathering intelligence on how the British sunk the italian fleet at Toronto. They want that information for the Japanese. Japanese? What on earth for? The word is the Japanese want to attack the american fleet. That's quite a rumor. Still, I would much rather stay in Europe.

I'm sure you'll find ways to entertain yourself in New York. Even as the two friends laugh, Popov's mind is racing. He knows Yebsen shouldn't be sharing this information about the japanese military's plans. He wonders if his friend suspects he's passing secrets to the British. And perhaps this is why he's giving Popoff this top secret information. One month later, von Karstov, Spiller, Esdoril. Popoff listens carefully as von Karstov runs through the final details of his mission to America. On the table in front of him is a microscope and several sheets of paper. When you get to New York, you will have to be most careful of the FBI. They've already broken up one of our networks there. And now that Yugoslavia is conquered, you're no longer a citizen of a neutral country. They'll be watching you. That's why you'll need this. Von Karstov takes a pair of tweezers and picks up a scrap of paper, smaller than a fingernail from the table. What do you see? A slip of paper. Von Karstov slips the paper under the microscope. Now look at it. Popoff presses his eye to the viewfinder and gasps in astonishment. Under the microscope.

The lone full stop on the paper transforms into an entire document. Thousands of words over many pages. Von Karsov grins. No more invisible ink for you. These are called micro dots. Advanced photo technology. We can squeeze entire documents onto a pinprick. All your instructions for America are hidden in that dot. Extraordinary. Indeed. Now, while you're in America, we need you to go to Hawai, Hawaii. What's in Hawaii? There's a naval base called Pearl Harbor. We need information about it. How many anchorages does it have? What are its defensive formations? Pop off looks through the microscope again and the hundreds of questions about Pearl Harbour's defenses. Suddenly he remembers his conversation with Yebsen about Japan attacking the american fleet. In an instant, he puts two and two together. Germany isn't even fighting in the Pacific. Is this for the Japanese? I can't comment on that. Just do your job. Von Karstov's lack of denial is as good as a yes. Pop off looks down the microscope at the questions about Pearl Harbor. Questions that will arm the Japanese with the intel they need to launch a devastating surprise attack. An attack that could put the US Navy out of action in the Pacific.

Popoff has to get this information to the Americans, not just to stop the attack on Pearl Harbor, but to convince America to abandon neutrality and join the fight to defeat Adolf Hitler and his nazi death machine. A quick note about our dialog. 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 many sources to make this series, including into the lion's mouth by Larry Loftus, codename Tricycle by Russell Miller, and spy counter spy by Dushko Popov, the spy who is hosted by me, Indira Varmo. Our show is produced by Vespucci with writing and story editing by Yellow Ant for Wondery for Yellow Ant this episode was written by J. S. Rafaeli and researched by Marina Watson and Louise Byrne. Our managing producer is Jay Priest for Vespucci. Our senior producer is Thomas Curry and our sound designer is Matt Peaty. Matt Willis 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 est Del Doyle, Jessica Radburn and Marshall Louis. Wandery. Plus, subscribers can binge full seasons of the spy who early and ad free on Apple Podcasts or the Wandery app.