EXFIL by Anthony Patton (best book reader txt) 📕

with their sources, but laymen didn’t understand that this emotional bond was a critical key to success.

When we arrived at the Korean War Memorial, I waited patiently as Li took photos and read the plaques. “You probably didn’t have to read Wikipedia to learn about the Korean War?”

He looked at me and shook his head. “North Korea helped Communist China defeat the nationalists in 1949. We, in turn, helped them during the Korean War.”

“In October of 1950,” I said, continuing with the history lesson, “Chinese soldiers crossed into North Korea and scored a victory at the Battle of Unsan.”

He snapped another photo and lowered his phone with an arched eyebrow. “We even surprised the great General MacArthur.”

The Korean War was long ago and both sides had scored victories, so there was no need for this moment to create any tension. In fact, the U.S. and China had a vested interest in working together to manage the rogue nation.

For the final stop, we walked the solemn path of the Vietnam War Memorial. When we arrived at the midway point at the bottom, he paused to read the names, gently touching the wall in silence and looking at his reflection in the marble wall. He nodded solemnly and turned to me.

“It is most honorable that your soldiers are listed by name, officers and enlisted together. Their families must be proud of their sacrifice,” he quietly stated.

“You don’t have anything like this in China,” I asked, preparing for the finale.

“Not enough space,” he said with a wry smile.

I put my hand on his shoulder and led the way. “They should write the names on the Great Wall.” Wait for it. “Your heroes deserve that honor.”

He bowed. We were no longer enemies from opposite sides of the world fighting cyber battles. We were two warriors, two brothers in arms from an elite warrior caste who lived by a code of honor that few could appreciate or live by. No matter how transparent my tactics were to a professional like Li, the histrionics probably struck a bass chord, however briefly, which was the best I could do.

China would never honor its soldiers this way, and he knew we wanted his secrets.

The next step of the dance would be up to him.

To wind things down, we stopped at the American History Museum gift shop and browsed the trinkets, which included a display of ex-president bobbleheads. He grabbed Ronald Reagan and looked at me. I pushed the head down and unleashed a flurry of bobbling.

“This is funny?”

“I guess,” I said, unsure what might be the correct answer.

To my surprise, he took the Reagan bobblehead and a picture book about D.C. and waited in line for the cashier, who was frustratingly slow.

He turned with a shrug to indicate it wasn’t his fault. I gestured—don’t worry about it.

When it was finally his turn, the cashier slid his credit card, but it didn’t work. He tried another card, but it didn’t work, either. I strode over, set some cash on the counter, and told Li not to worry about it, as if talking to a close buddy. He seemed surprised and ashamed that his credit cards didn’t work, but didn’t want to make a scene. I felt sure there was a reasonable explanation, but my mind raced with excitement—did he have financial problems? I hustled to keep up with him as we exited the museum.

“I don’t know what happened,” he said and paused to hold the door for me with a nervous bow. “The card was working fine before.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I said for to assure him. “It happens all the time. I’m sure your bank will resolve the problem.” I gestured down the steps with a deep breath to calm my excitement. “You want a hot dog?”

He nodded, and I led the way, cash in hand.

TWELVE

As Intelligence Officers are wont to do after a major breakthrough, I gave Brett and Nguyen a heads-up. They agreed that the credit card episode was potentially important and began investigating Li’s finances. We were honest enough to recognize that there probably was a good explanation for the credit cards being declined, but many intelligence successes resulted from catching a break, like a detective finding a fingerprint where no one thought to look.

I couldn’t stop thinking about it as I prepared for Beth’s book-signing event, until Anna called to ask what I was doing. Had I been a reasonable man who could think straight, I would have said I was busy, mindful that Beth and the boys were planning to spend the night in my hotel room after flying down from West Point. But Anna was hungry and wanted to see me.

I couldn’t resist her and rationalized my decision.

I called in some favors to get an update for her security clearance and agreed to an early dinner. I picked her up and ensured the location function on my phone was off.

I could have waited for her on street level, but accepted her offer to come up, which was the gentlemanly thing to do, after all. This is how a man’s mind works.

With all these bizarre rationalizations, I was only modestly surprised to see her wearing a bathrobe when she opened the door. Her hair and makeup were ready for a night on the town, but she opened her robe to reveal her delectable body. She led me to the bedroom, allowing the robe to fall to the floor, and wrapping her arms around me with a mischievous smile.

The sex was amazing. I knew I would be unable to resist her future calls, but the whole thing smelled like marriage: the plants and decorations, the throw pillows on the bed, and an ottoman bench on which to lay my folded clothes. No wrinkled dress under the bed here.

She was wet before her robe hit the floor and reached orgasm from the missionary position in a matter of minutes, which was my cue to finish with a restrained groan and a