EXFIL by Anthony Patton (best book reader txt) 📕

to get back to the party, but I wanted to take this opportunity to thank you again for the important partnership we’ve forged over the years. As we celebrate tonight and gaze upon the shores of our hallowed homeland, we should never forget that the world is a dangerous place, and it’s the hard-working heroes like you who protect our great republic and make it safe for our families. Thank you again for making JB Defense Solutions your partner in the fight.”

The crowd erupted in applause as the music resumed.

The engines surged and the yacht departed from the dock.

Brett and Nguyen leaned closer to each other and exchanged glances to convince the other to speak first. It seemed that Nguyen drew the short straw.

“Colonel Reed,” he said, “we received the reports from Captain Howard’s last meeting with Captain Chen.”

His tone suggested it hadn’t gone well, but I wasn’t about to let them see me sweat. “And?”

He glanced at Brett and turned to me. “And, given Captain Chen’s position, he should have provided much better information.”

I sipped my drink and nodded to show the thoughtfulness that was expected of me. “I’ll reach out to Tom to see what’s going on. As you can imagine, Chen was shaken up by the coercion thing and might still be holding out.”

They nodded and concentrated on their drinks, generously allowing me to save face as I mulled over what might have gone wrong. Perhaps Chen was dragging things out to protect his reputation and would never actually provide any information of value.

Admittedly, I also had some concerns about Tom’s ability to manage this difficult case so early in his career, but we had to give junior officers space to grow.

With a deep breath, Brett set his drink down. “Do you have any concerns about Tom?”

“How so?” I knew Brett wasn’t headed in a positive direction.

Nguyen took the lead.

“As you know, Captain Chen was pressured into this, which raises concerns. We know you had derogatory information on him, but most men in his position would have said no.”

I had been in the intelligence business long enough to know all the jargon and innuendo, but I honestly had no idea where this was going.

Brett took over. “Does Tom have any lifestyle issues the Chinese could exploit?”

I considered Tom’s night with the go-go dancer in Club Ecstasy, convinced that nothing would come of it, certainly not espionage. “Are you suggesting he’s working for the Chinese?” I asked cautiously, professionally obligated to consider the possibility. “Accusing Tom of espionage is just paranoid.”

At a timely and welcome juncture, I spotted Lieutenant General Lewis on the other side of the deck and excused myself, shaking my head in disappointment for effect.

Lewis waved me over and led me away from the music, a hand resting on my arm.

“How did it go with Lieutenant Colonel Li?” he inquired.

“Good,” I said. “Very good. He seemed eager to catch up after ten years. We’re touring the war memorials on Saturday.” I looked around to ensure that Brett and Nguyen couldn’t see my display of confidence. “FBI and CIA didn’t want me to take the lead, but Li gave their guy the Heisman.”

Lewis nodded as a hot waitress arrived with a tray of drinks, and grabbed a club soda with lime. I raised my glass with a swirling motion to indicate I was good.

He leaned closer. “I hear FBI and CIA aren’t pleased with Captain Howard’s last meeting with Captain Chen.”

I took a deep breath to prepare him for the bad news.

“They weren’t satisfied with the information Chen provided. Not only that, they also wondered out loud whether Tom might be working for the Chinese.”

He groaned and shook his head in disappointment. “I think we can safely dismiss that nonsense, but don’t be dismissive of their concerns. If Chen’s information isn’t consistent with his access, we have to ask the tough questions.”

When a general makes a reasonable point, it’s time to move on. “What’s with this party? Under normal circumstances, this would be considered a conflict of interest, right?”

He shook his head with moral ambiguity. “Times are changing, for sure. We can’t defeat the cyber threat without contractors. Bartfield is a good guy, though,” he added, signaling to someone that he was on his way over. He slapped me on the back. “He wants what’s best for America. Keep me posted on your next meeting.”

I was ready to call it a night, but the vessel hadn’t yet reached the halfway point, so I climbed the steps to the upper deck to enjoy the evening chill and the view of the stars. I had hoped that D.C. would be a change of pace from the debauchery of Bangkok, but some of the couples were on the verge of needing a hotel room. I could have as much fun as the next guy, but many of the guests, people my age, were drinking and dancing like idiots, on a school night no less.

“Colonel Reed.”

I turned to see the man who had introduced Mr. Bartfield. “Your presence is requested.”

It didn’t take a trained Intelligence Officer to know that this was an unusual request, but I was curious. I was led down two levels to a living room, then down a hall to an office. The furniture and décor weren’t extravagant, but the walls were filled with photographs of Bartfield as a young Army infantry officer, with celebrities and politicians, and with his family.

The door opened to reveal the man himself, portly yet distinguished in a tailored Italian suit.

“Welcome, Colonel Reed,” he said and offered a firm handshake. “Lieutenant General Lewis told me many good things. I wanted to welcome you to the team and let you know that JB Defense Solutions will be with you every step of the way.”

His charm might work on unsuspecting civilians, but I wasn’t about to let a schmoozing contractor welcome me to “the team”—whose team? He would continue to receive our money until we found a better offer. I gestured to a photograph