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Wondery Plus subscribers can binge full seasons of The Spy Who early and ad-free on Apple Podcasts or the Wondery app. August 30th, 1971. 3.30am, Curzon Street, London. A car screeches to a halt outside MI5's headquarters. And assistant director Peter Wright rushes out. There's a look of panic etched onto his face.
Wright hurries inside, where Oleg Leland's bearded case officer, Tony Brooks, is waiting for him. Tony, what on earth is going on? What's the emergency? It's Leland. The bloody fool's gone and got himself arrested for drunk driving. He's being held at Totten Court Road Police Station. Christ. Do the Russians know? You don't think they could get to him inside, do you? We've got Special Branch on guard, but who knows what the KGB could try. We don't know where they might have people, or what they're capable of.
Right. You'd better come with me. They enter Wright's office and shut the door behind them. Wright kneels down, unlocks his safe, and removes a small bag resembling a builder's toolkit. Okay. These are the antidotes to every known poison used by the KGB. At least the ones for which antidotes exist. This is for a nerve agent like sarin, and this is for thallium. You'll need to know how to spot the symptoms. You can talk me through on the way to the police station. Good thinking. Let's move.
The two men rush out of the office. They are now in a race with the KGB to reach Lehlin first. And it's a race they can't afford to lose. For if they fail, MI5 could find itself with a dead double agent and its push to kick the Soviet spies out of Britain in ruins.
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From Wondery, I'm Raza Jafri, and this is The Spy Who.
On the last episode, Oleg Lelin battled to maintain his double life as a KGB officer secretly working as a British agent. MI5 finally persuaded the government to approve Operation Foot, a mass expulsion of Soviet spies from British soil. And after discovering he'd been unfaithful, Lelin's wife went back to Moscow.
But now, Leland's arrest for drunk driving has left MI5 scrambling to save its carefully laid plans to strike back against the Soviets. You're listening to The Spy Who Saved MI5, Episode 3, No Return. August 30th, 1971, eight hours after Leland's arrest, Marlborough Magistrates Court, London. Oleg Leland is led towards the court. His eyes are bleary and his head pounds from the previous night's drinking.
But cutting through the hangover is the fear. Leland knows that by now the KGB will have heard about his arrest. They might even consider him a defection risk, which could mean imprisonment or even death. But maybe, just maybe, there's a way he might turn this situation to his own advantage. The court calls Oleg "Liar" Leland. Leland is led to the defendant's bench. His eyes dart around the courtroom,
scanning for the KGB officers who must surely be there. He sees the bored magistrate, the police officers who arrested him last night, and a lone journalist with his notebook in his hand. Then he sees them. Two black-suited Russians, unmistakably KGB. He glances back towards the cells. In the corridor, he sees the special branch officers from Scotland Yard who are waiting to whisk him away the moment this hearing ends.
You are Oleg Lialin of 32 Highgate West Hill? It's Lelin. Yes. The charge is under the Road Safety Act of 1967, failure to provide a specimen. The case will be heard on September 30th. Bail is set at £50. Lelin is led back towards the cells as the court prepares for its next case. He glances over his shoulder to see the KGB officers approaching the clerk of the court to arrange his bail.
But the moment he is out of sight, the two burly special branch officers waiting in the wings approach his escort and flash their warrant cards. We'll take the prisoner from here. Mr. Leland, this way, please. The officers rush Leland through the corridors, out the back of the court building, and bundle him into a waiting police car, which speeds off into the grey London morning. August 30th, MI5 safe house, London.
Leland's MI5 handler, Tony Brooks, stares at Leland in disbelief. "You've got to be joking, Oleg. You can't go back to the Soviets now. It's too dangerous." Leland leans forward. "No, I was thinking it through in the courtroom. This is actually an opportunity… an opportunity to wind up dead. It's over, Oleg. It's time to defect." "No, it's not. I can make this work."
I tell them this was a deliberate British provocation, that MI5 were trying to frame me. In the KGB, this is considered a great honor. It would actually improve my position there, so I could be even more useful to you. Leland checks his watch, then fixes Brooks with a steely gaze. I've already been gone for 30 minutes. If I don't show at the trade delegation soon, they will know something's wrong. You need to let me go.
And what if you're wrong? What if they don't buy your story and send you back to Moscow? Leland shrugs. Even better. Then I work for you from there. That's where I can be really useful. Brooks frowns. He doubts Leland will last a month in Moscow playing double agent for MI6. No. You're not going to Moscow. We need you here. Here. Take this card. If they decide to send you home...
You call this number. If they suspect me, I won't have time for phone calls. Then we'll grab you at Heathrow before you board your flight, but either way, you stay in Britain. Does this mean you agree that I should go back now? Brooks hesitates and then nods. Leland smiles and grabs his coat. Highgate, London. Oleg Leland strides into the offices of the Soviet trade delegation.
On the outside, he seems loose and cool, but inside, his mind is racing as he calculates the odds of conning his KGB bosses and the danger if he fails. All eyes in the room turn to him. He pauses for a moment, then a colleague rushes over. Comrade Leland, are you alright? We heard you were arrested. Completely fine. It was just the usual British provocations.
The police were right there waiting for me. They just wanted to let us know they're watching. Nothing we haven't seen before. Thank you for inquiring, though. Bliette. The bastards. Now, solidarity, comrade. Thank you, comrade. Oleg enters his own office, closes the door, and exhales. Irina Tepliakova enters. Comrade Leland, do you have a moment to go over your schedule for the week? Yes. Please come in. Close the door.
The moment the door is closed, their formal demeanor vanishes. The two lovers rush together and embrace. "Olek, what happened? Are you alright?" "I am absolutely fine. This is nothing I can't handle." "What are people saying here?" "Everyone is saying that it was a British provocation. I think they are really angry about it." Leland feels relief. His lie seems to be holding up, but he knows that he and Teplyakova must be careful about what they say here.
The KGB is probably listening in. "Okay, that's very good. Oleg, you won't be in trouble, will you? Will you be okay?" "Irushka, don't worry. This will blow over. Everything will be fine. I promise." Lalin tenderly smooths Teplyakov's hair. They kiss. Two days later, the Soviet embassy, Kensington Palace Gardens.
Leland sits across from the KGB's chief, or resident, in London. He smooths his tie and smiles. After two days, he is now confident that his arrest has been accepted by the KGB as a British provocation, and that this meeting with the resident may even bring good news. Comrade resident, this arrest? It was an MI5 setup. You know what the British are like. They will try anything to... Oleg! Oleg!
This isn't about the arrest. That we can explain. This is something much more serious. Something more delicate. The resident slides an envelope across the desk. It is addressed to Leland with a Moscow post stamp, but Leland can clearly see that it has already been opened. The letter is from one of your friends in Moscow. It was delivered to another officer by mistake and brought to my attention. Leland opens the letter,
and begins to read: "Comrade Lelynn, I write with unfortunate and disturbing news. Since your wife returned to Moscow, she has been telling people that you were unfaithful to her in England, and with many different women. She says that she will divorce you, and that you yourself are disillusioned with your high-priority work." Lelynn stops reading, his heart sinking in his chest. He may have spun his arrest to his advantage, but this letter is dynamite.
The KGB will not tolerate an open scandal, and his wife's claim that he's disillusioned with the KGB could have serious, even deadly, consequences. He lowers the letter, moves to speak, but the resident cuts him off. "Oleg, we have no choice. You are to go straight to the trade delegation offices and gather your belongings. You will wait there to be collected. You fly back to Moscow. Tonight."
Leland knows that there is no talking his way out of this. His career in the KGB is over. He also knows that returning to Moscow in disgrace could end with his imprisonment, or worse. He takes a deep breath. Then an absolute clarity settles over him. He knows exactly what his next move must be.
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It's been 10 minutes since he was told he is going back to Moscow tonight, and he can't afford even the slightest error now. Reassured he's alone, Leland steps into a red London phone box. He pauses, steals himself, and then dials the number MI5 told him to call in an emergency. "Hello, this is Leland. I need extraction with a friend today, immediately." Oleg memorizes the address dictated to him by the anonymous voice at the other end of the line.
Understood. We'll be there. Leland hangs up. He takes a breath. There is no going back now. For a moment, time seems to stand still. Then Oleg jumps in shock at the banging on the phone box door. He spins round to see a young man with shaggy shoulder-length hair. Come on, mate. You're about done in there. Leland turns his back to the man, lifts the receiver, and inserts more coins into the slot. Oi, get a move on. This time, Leland flips him the V-sign.
The man gets the message and drifts away. Leland pauses, then dials the number for Irina Tepliakova. "Hello?" "Irina, it's me, Oleg. Listen to me. I have got to go now. Right now. Today. This moment. I want you to come with me." "No, Oleg, what are you talking about?" Things have changed. "I have information from Moscow. There's nothing for us back there, Irushka. This is our chance. A new life together."
Don't erushka me, Oleg. I can't. I have a son. I can't believe this is happening. Irina, listen to me. I know these people. I know how they operate. If we go back, there will always be a stain on our records. And not just our records. Your son, Ivan, will have this hanging over him as well, permanently. If you come with me, he can still have his own life. This is the best thing for all of us. Even Ivan.
I'm like, I can't, I need time to think. There is no time. This is happening, right now. You have to trust me, Erushka. This is it, our chance. There will never be another. This cannot be happening, I... Okay, okay, I'll come. But what do I do? How does this work? Erushka, this is the right choice. Bring nothing, act completely natural. Make it as if you are going shopping.
I will pick you up outside the trade delegation offices. Stay away from our people until then. And Irushka? Yes? Be careful." Oleg hangs up and leaves the phone box. There's no going back now. He's about to abandon everything he ever knew and become a KGB assassination target. And he knows nothing will ever be the same again. Highgate, London.
Irina Taplyakova paces the front room of her apartment within the Soviet trade delegation compound. She stops, grabs the phone, then puts it down again and resumes pacing. Gradually she slows down, takes a deep breath, smooths her hair, approaches the phone again and dials the number for her mother in Moscow. Mama, it's Irina. No, I'm fine, Mama. Can you put Ivan on?
Teplyakova steals herself as her eight-year-old son comes to the phone. "Ivan, that is wonderful. Listen, Ivan, I… Listen, Ivan, you have to be a good boy, okay? Be a good boy and do what Baba tells you. Okay. I love you. I have to go now. Be a good boy, Ivan." Irina hangs up and breaks down. She sits on the edge of her bed, sobbing. Eventually, she quietens down, walks to the mirror,
and fixes her mascara. She takes a few deep breaths, then walks to the front door, opens it, steps over the threshold, and shuts the door behind her. Oleg Lelin steps into the lobby of the Soviet trade delegation offices in Highgate. He strolls past the receptionist and heads down the corridor towards his office. He nods and smiles at his colleagues as if everything's normal, but his heart is pounding in his chest.
He has no idea what any of the people passing him in the halls may or may not know about him being sent back to Moscow, in disgrace. But Leland cannot allow himself to get distracted by these questions. He has only one mission. He needs to get what he came for and get out. He heads straight into his office and locks the door behind him. The second he's inside the office, Leland opens his briefcase
But instead of emptying his desk of personal possessions as ordered, he drops to his knees and urgently begins opening his safe. This safe contains Leland's top secret documents, the records of all the surveillance and sabotage plans he's been developing as an officer of the KGB's elite department V. The safe opens to reveal stacks of brown manila envelopes, maps and other documents. Leland starts moving the documents into his briefcase.
Documents he can use to prove to MI5 that everything he told him about the KGB's sabotage plans is true. Documents that can ensure MI5 upholds its promise to protect him if he defects. He reaches for another stack of brown manila envelopes, but then he has footsteps outside. He freezes as a silhouette appears behind the panels of frosted glass mounted in the door to his office. The silhouette stops walking and then the person at the door knocks.
and tries the door handle. Comrade Leland, are you there? Leland maintains absolute silence as the door handle rattles once more. The person outside moves on and Leland gets back to stuffing KGB documents into his briefcase.
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September 3rd, 1971, Earls Court, London. In a safe house, MI5 officer Tony Brooks and Oleg Lelin sit opposite each other at the kitchen table. Spread on the table between them are a mass of maps and documents. These are the top secret KGB files that Lelin smuggled out to the Soviet trade delegation. Files that exposed the KGB's covert operations in the UK.
It's 24 hours since Lelyan carried out his high-risk heist of KGB intel and fled the Soviet trade delegation with Irina Taplyakova in tow. But now that they've defected, the Soviets will start covering their tracks. And that means Brooks and MI5 are in a race against time to make the most of the information Lelyan's brought them.
Brooks points to a map of Heyburn Wyke in Yorkshire, covered with arrows and handwritten notes scrawled in the margins in Russian. "Okay, explain this map here. I told you, if a war was starting we would land Spetsnaz troops here. This was my job, to find the landing spots and plot their route to the nuclear attack warning station at Fylingdales. When I told you all this before, I could tell you didn't believe me. Do you believe me now?" Brooks doesn't comment.
Leland continues talking. "The evidence is all here, and I have much more I can tell. But I need your assurance that Irina and I will be taken care of. We want to live in comfort and have full protection. Your identities, everything. You have our assurance on that? What is this document? That? That's Holly Lock in Scotland, where the Americans have their submarine base.
We have modified civilian planes that will pretend to go off course. Then they drop their mines into the estuary and trap the submarines in the lock. Leland opens the next folder. Inside are maps of London Underground routes through the city. This one here is in the early stages, but it's one of my favorites. The plan is to flood the London Underground. It's a priority to disable your transport networks and make all British trains run late. Late trains.
We have those already. I don't think we need help from the KGB for that. Yeah, but Moscow doesn't understand that. To be honest, they overestimate British capabilities in most things. Here's something for you, though. Want to know why your surveillance vehicles can never properly track or follow our agents? Go on, then. Then talk to this chap, Siraj Abdul Qadir. He works at the Greater London Council Vehicle Registration Unit, but he's also been an agent for us for four years.
He checks the registrations of vehicles we suspect are MI5 or Special Branch. That's why we see your cars coming from a mile away. Bloody hell. And this is just the beginning. The Bobbin V is not just in the UK, we have people in Paris, Washington, Lagos, Mexico City, Tokyo. I can tell you what I know about the operations in these cities too, like how there are plans to poison the water supply in Washington. But first, I'd like to see Irina.
Brooks eyes Leland suspiciously. Everything he's said so far has checked out, but Brooks still can't help wondering whether Leland's inflating his claims ahead of asking for more money. You'll see her when we're finished here, and I understand every single detail of these plans. Brooks and Leland eye each other once again across the table. Leland sighs, exhausted, but reaches again for another of the manila envelopes.
It's a few days later, and in a West London hotel room, Irina Tepliakova crouches by the TV set and changes the channel. Oh no. Crossroads. She switches off the TV, lies down on the bed, and stares at the ceiling. She's been here a week now. In the adjoining room, armed special branch officers are on guard, and there's nothing to do but pace the room and stare at the TV.
All she knows is MI5 won't let her see Leland until he's been fully debriefed. The door to the adjoining room opens, and one of the special branch officers wheels in yet another room service meal. Good dinner, ma'am. Thank you. Do you have any idea how much longer I'll have to stay here? Uh, I couldn't say, ma'am. Not much longer, I should think. Hmm. Do you know something? Today is my tenth wedding anniversary. Hmm.
Yeah, right, ma'am. Congratulations. I'll be next door if you need anything else. Thank you, officer. Tabliakova lifts the lid of the dinner tray, but can't face another of the hotel's meals. She places the lid back on the tray, collapses back down on the bed, and stares blankly at the ceiling. One week later, 1971. Greater London Council officers.
In the Motor Vehicle Registration Department, Siraj Abdul Qadir sits at his desk working his way through a pile of license applications. He freezes as two police officers enter and stride swiftly towards him. Mr. Siraj Abdul Qadir? Yes? I'm DCI Gordon Fryer of Special Branch. We have a warrant to search your desk and your purse and please stand up. What? You can't do that. This is bloody outrageous. Abdul Qadir stands from his chair and puffs out his chest in indignation.
DCI Friar's fellow officer moves in and puts a strong grip on Abdul Khadir's shoulder. "Best just comply, sunshine, alright?" The two officers search Abdul Khadir's pockets. They open his wallet. Inside, there's a card with the contact details for Oleg Lelin, along with a list of vehicle license plates. DCI Friar picks up the list of vehicle registrations.
Care to explain this, Mr. Abdul Qadir? That? Oh, um, it's... I collect registrations. It's just my hobby. I haven't done anything wrong. DCI Friar puts down the list and then picks up Leland's card. And whose card is this? Oh, he's a... he's a friend of mine. Mr. Abdul Qadir, we know whose card this is, and we know about your work for the KGB. It would really be best if you just come clean. Um, I...
Look, I've been a fool. Those Russian swine, they blackmailed me. I never meant any harm. It was just a bit of fun. Siraj Abdul Qadir, I'm arresting you. Abdul Qadir looks at the floor and rues the day he ever met Leland. September 21st, 1971. Number 10, Downing Street.
In the cabinet room, Prime Minister Ted Heath settles into his leather-backed chair. He nods at the six government ministers sitting around the room's long, green, baize-covered table. MI5's long campaign to expel Soviet intelligence officers from Britain has come down to this top secret meeting.
And there's just one item on the agenda: Operation Foot, the Foreign Office plan to expel 105 Soviet officials suspected of spying. Heath looks at his Foreign Secretary, Sir Alec Douglas Hume. "Alec, is there anything we should know in addition to what's in the briefing papers?" "Only the need to move with haste. The recent defective from the Soviet trade delegation increases the risk of the Soviets anticipating our action."
Now, my five's advice is that the longer we wait, the more time the Soviets will have to withdraw and redistribute their intelligence effort. Heath nods, but looks unsure. Understood. But have we thought through the consequences of Operation Foot fully? Well, Ted, we've spent a lot of time on this. Honestly, it's unpredictable. Poke the bear and it might bite back.
but I do feel we have thought through all eventualities. But what about the Americans and our other NATO allies? We're not telling them what we're about to do. The White House wants de-escalation. They're not going to like it. True, but we have exhausted all diplomatic options with the Soviets. But thanks to our recent defector, we know that they are actively plotting against us. Our choice is to either say that we accept that,
or to make a stand and remove their intelligence officers. Heath nods. Indeed. And what's the Foreign Office read on the response we can expect from the Russians themselves? There's a number of ways it could play out. At the very least, we can expect them to expel some of our diplomats in Moscow. And there will be plenty of diplomatic posturing, but the reality is no government has ever expelled so many spies at once.
There's simply no telling how the Soviets will respond. But Alec, you know the Soviets. How do you assess the risk here? Sir Alec thinks for a moment and then replies. Ted, there comes a moment to draw a line in the sand. To cast the dice and face the storm, come what may. This is one of those times.
And I would add that by now, the Soviets will know about our defector. And they will be moving to clean house as we speak. If this is to be done, it must be done right now. Heath pauses and sips his whiskey. He knows his decision could alter the course of the Cold War. Maybe for better, maybe for worse. Hmm, a line in the sand.
Yes, you're right. Operation Foot must happen. Let's give the bear's cage a bloody good rattle. The decision is made. Britain is about to stand up to the might of the Soviet Union and face the consequences. And it's a huge risk, one that could heat up Cold War tensions and drag the world closer to the abyss of nuclear war.
Wondery Plus subscribers can binge full seasons of The Spy Who early and ad-free on Apple Podcasts or the Wondery app. From Wondery, this is the third episode in our series, The Spy Who Saved MI5. 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. The Spy Who is hosted by me, Raza Jafri. 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. Raffaelli and researched by Marina Watson.
Our managing producer for Wondery is Rachel Sibley.
Executive producers for Wondery are Estelle Doyle, Jessica Radburn and Marshall Louis.
