EXFIL by Anthony Patton (best book reader txt) 📕

never commit espionage against our great republic. “Li is a professional, so it will be difficult to catch him in the act, but we’re on him like white on rice.”

“Then it’s even more critical for you to make progress with him,” he said. He removed a laptop from the safe and handed it to me. “After this attack, our programmers coded new security patches for you to hand-deliver to the Pentagon. For obvious reasons, we can’t transfer them electronically, not even over our most secure systems.”

I was confused by the strange request.

“I’m not in a computer guy, but why don’t we buy better computer systems?”

He groaned and shook his head. “We’ve requested money from Congress, but the budget cuts are killing us. This isn’t like buying the latest upgrade for Windows. We’ve made progress with JWICS for top secret information, but most personnel lack the right security clearance and do most of their business on NIPRNet and SIPRNet.”

He handed me the laptop as we walked to the door. “The J6 is waiting for you,” he added.

We shook hands. “It might be necessary to take off the gloves, General.”

He nodded soberly. “Keep me posted.”

I was pleased to see that we were opting for a low-tech solution for a high-tech problem: hand-delivering the security patches to produce an air gap between Cyber Command and the Pentagon. For many years, the terrorists had relied on phones and social media to communicate, but after we’d exploited their communications and struck them dead with lightning bolts from above, they resorted to a low-tech network of couriers to pass messages by whispering into the ear of the intended recipient, often traveling long distances to do so.

But no system of communication was one hundred percent secure: the couriers might not be trustworthy or might be intercepted along the way.

Across town at the Pentagon, the J6 was responsible for military command, control, communications, and computers/cyber, collectively referred to as C4. I didn’t understand their job but couldn’t overstate their importance. From calling in air strikes to conducting raids on terrorist compounds, I never took the J6 folks for granted.

The J6 operations center was also in a state of controlled chaos in the aftermath of the cyberattack. The first thing I noticed was that the area was divided into two sections, with the more sensitive activity inside a secure zone separated by security controls and wire-lined glass, the JWICS top secret system. The less sensitive activity—the SIPRNet secret system and the NIPRNet unclassified system, which had faced the brunt of the attack—had an open bay of cubicles.

The technicians on the top secret side must have recognized my laptop because I was swiftly escorted inside, where a young man with glasses, a retro paisley shirt, and an argyle sweater vest booted it up, inserted a factory sealed USB drive, and downloaded the security patches.

I would normally say that I sensed a homosexual vibe, but someone explained to me that the younger generation embraced the beta male culture.

“Welcome to my world,” Colonel O’Connor said as he approached, wearing a long-sleeve green uniform shirt with cufflinks and a tie.

“I can only imagine how busy you are,” I said as the technician fidgeted and tapped his foot, his eyes averted while the files downloaded.

“If I can ask a favor,” O’Connor said to me, “please find the bastards who are responsible for these attacks and make them stop.”

We had no intention of telling anyone that Lieutenant Colonel Li was that bastard. “I’m on it,” I said with a wink and allowed my eyes to wander to the other side of the room, where Anna was talking to other technicians. She wore faded jeans with an oversized navy-blue Irish turtleneck sweater, black-rimmed glasses, and her hair pulled back in a ponytail—obvious steps to moderate her beauty in a room filled with horny and insecure computer geeks.

“We’d sure love to get Anna working on this side,” O’Connor said, attuned to my gaze. “If you can pull some strings with her security clearance, that would be swell.”

The technician removed the USB drive and closed the laptop.

I tucked it under my arm with a salute.

“Pleasure doing business,” O’Connor said.

TEN

There were other times when “getting the call” was something we dreaded. Parents always dread receiving bad news about a child. Military commanders dread receiving bad news about a raid for their soldiers. So, when I received a late-night call from Army Criminal Investigation Command, asking me to meet them at a remote motel in northern Virginia to discuss a sensitive matter, I said I would be there right away. It didn’t sound good. Didn’t feel good, either.

I spoke in the most professional tone I could muster. The enlisted CID special agent sounded rank deferential, but my mind raced to dark places. Knowing that my family was at West Point, I could safely rule them out as being in trouble. The least worrisome scenario was a soldier in Cyber Command had done something stupid, like getting drunk and arrested. I doubted that, though, because I was new and assumed that no one had listed me as their commanding officer or emergency point of contact. Lieutenant General Lewis had said nothing about assuming these responsibilities.

I was reluctant to consider my own actions as a possible reason for the call, but when I recalled my misdeeds in Bangkok, I couldn’t help but think I deserved reprimand. Although I didn’t do anything illegal with Jewel or Anna, in the criminal systems of Thailand or the United States, the Uniform Code of Military Justice had prohibitions against “conduct unbecoming an officer and gentleman” (Article 133) and infidelity (Article 134), but this chivalrous code seemed to be a relic of the past for the new generation of soldiers that couldn’t grasp the idea of an anti-sodomy law.

The doubt and uncertainty I felt while driving proved that narratives were constructed after the fact. While events were happening, there was no way to know in advance how things would turn out. Many people