EXFIL by Anthony Patton (best books to read non fiction TXT) 📗

“If I am correct,” he said, with a glance upward as if consulting his memory, perhaps for effect, “you should be pinning on your first star soon?”

I nodded, pondering the best response. “Fingers crossed for this year.”

He was revealing his knowledge of my situation and pushing my buttons to show that he too could play the same game, which didn’t bode well for the pitch.

“Now that you’re here in Washington,” I said, deciding to shift gears and counterpunch, “I imagine you’ll go on some family vacations. Travel can be expensive, but you can find many good deals on the Internet.”

He bowed his head with a gentle smile. “I would appreciate any recommendations you have.” He set his silverware down again and looked at me. “Although my wife and I are hoping to save some money during this tour.”

Come again?

Every professional Intelligence Officer knows that it’s verboten to hint at any kind of a vulnerability to a foreign counterpart, financial or otherwise. He was practically begging me to ask why. But I restrained myself as my heart raced, and merely nodded.

As we continued our dinner, I raised mundane topics and cleared the pitch from my mind. Many Intelligence Officers underestimate would-be sources, forgetting that most people can discern when a conversation is being manipulated. For that reason, it was beneficial to set aside your true intentions and dissolve Zen-like into spontaneous discussion, to tap into the flow of the dialogue with natural responses and pauses. As we ate dessert, our chitchat served its ultimate purpose: setting his mind at ease and allowing the magic of rapport to operate again below the surface.

When the waiter arrived with the check, I offered a subtle raise of the eyebrows to indicate I would pay, with nary a protest from Li, which was a positive sign. “How about one for the road before we call it a night?”

He looked at his empty wine glass, paused, and nodded—why not?

Time to get down to business. I gestured to the waiter that we were moving to the bar, where an attractive cougar flirted as she brought us two Scotches on the rocks and a bowl of warm salted nuts. We clinked our glasses, sipped our drinks, and set them down—here we go.

“I imagine it was competitive for you to get assigned here,” I said. “Your English is much improved, by the way.”

He smiled. “Thank you. Yes, I have worked hard for a few years to get assigned here. My family is pleased.”

Time to dive in. “We’re both Intelligence Officers, so we know the game.”

“A great game,” he replied.

“So it should come as no surprise that we take a keen interest in your activities here.” He seemed to be waiting for more, so I retrieved the credit card statements from my inside breast pocket and set them on the table with a gesture.

He picked them up and stared blankly as he flipped through the pages.

Then he set them down, took a deep breath, and looked at me before lowering his head and drumming his fingers. “Where did you get these?”

“Jiao has a shopping problem and you’re having a hard time coming up with the money. Women, right?” It might not have occurred to him that we would dedicate surveillance resources to his wife. He wasn’t showing it, but I was certain he was swearing to himself under his breath. “Look, you haven’t committed a crime,” I continued, “but if your government were to know, it would end your tour here.”

“You would show these to my government?” he asked, waving them in my face, then looking around with caution and regret before setting them down. “Would you?”

I shook my head with a frown to put his mind at ease. “You have my word that we won’t show these to your government, but we would like to offer you an opportunity that would benefit both of us.” He might have been on the verge of storming out like the French diplomat. No reason to beat around the bush. “If you agree to work with us, we can eliminate these debts.”

He reviewed the statements again and with wide eyes, seeking to focus. I gently removed the statements from his hand and set one on the table. “We paid the balance on this one—$24,289.”

He raised an inquisitive eyebrow, began dialing on his phone, and hit a sequence of numbers to access his account. His reaction was priceless. I could see a light go off in his head.

“We’ll pay off the other cards as well,” I continued. “On top of that, we’ll pay you one million dollars to work with us during the remainder of your tour here.”

He shrugged with a confused look. “My access to information in the military attaché office probably is not of interest to you. We are very transparent about our activities.”

We couldn’t rule out the possibility that he was out of the cyber game during this tour, but our experts were convinced that he was still running the show. “You know that we know about your cyber operations. After your attacks on the Pentagon, you’re lucky we don’t arrest you, or worse.”

He took a deep breath and sipped his drink. “What do you want to know?”

Holy shit—are you kidding me?

“Do we have a deal?” I asked, almost holding my breath.

He swirled his drink, stared blankly as he gulped it, and just like that, he nodded. I reached across the table to shake his hand.

This wasn’t binding, legally or otherwise, but would help solidify the decision in his mind.

I could hardly contain myself.

“This is moving fast, I know, but to continue with the credit card payments, we’ll need some sensitive information as proof that you’re on board. We could start now.”

He paused to think and leaned forward. “Captain Howard is working for us in Bangkok. We have a video of him having sex with a dancer.”

Nice try. They knew the case was blown after Tom returned to America and fell off the grid. His death hadn’t