EXFIL by Anthony Patton (best book reader txt) 📕

the pots and pans in the sink to soak and said she would finish the next day between classes.

“That was nice,” she said as we walked upstairs.

“Was I right in thinking this was a job interview?”

She closed the bedroom door behind us and got undressed. “Well, we have discussed a teaching position here as one of your options, but as you heard, this took some convincing because of the requirement for an advanced degree.”

I knew she was acting with the best interests of the family in mind, and there was nothing wrong with nudging me in this direction if it meant we could be together again, which made her the only reasonable adult in the bedroom.

I felt nervous about caressing her from behind as she tossed her clothes on a chair to reveal a black lace bra and thong, which was high on the sexy spectrum for her.

Intelligence Officers often misjudged situations due to their own guilty knowledge, so I reminded myself that Beth was my wife, who had no idea about my relationships with Jewel or Anna. After this much time apart, anything less than an aggressive move on my part would set off alarm bells. She leaned back against me. Her skin tingled as I kissed her neck.

She turned and kissed me on the lips. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“I’ve missed you, too,” I said and pressed her body against mine, kissing her passionately as I unbuttoned my shirt. With a minor fumble, she yanked my belt and unzipped my pants to drop them to the floor. I hoisted her up. She moaned and wrapped her legs around me as I took small steps to the bed and fell backward.

She straddled me and rode me gently, moaning, raising her arms and tossing her hair as I caressed her breasts. I hadn’t seen her like this in years, aroused as though it was the first time, her beautiful face bathing in a halo of moonlight. With a sudden move, she fell to her side and crawled to grab the bedpost with both hands, with a seductive look back.

We adjusted our knees clumsily on the down comforter as I entered her from behind.

“Harder,” she said and arched her back.

I duly obliged with some hesitation, realizing I needed something to hold to thrust more forcefully. With all inhibitions gone, and for the first time in our marriage, I grabbed her beautiful sandy blonde hair like a horse’s mane and tugged her head back with each thrust as I slammed her from behind. “Yes!” she screamed.

The bed was rocking as we both reached orgasm and collapsed on the bed.

I looked at the ceiling, taking deep breaths and feeling my heart pounding.

Holy shit. We rolled over and kissed as she grinned and touched my chin.

We both instinctively looked at the door in silence, wondering if the boys would arrive to see what was happening—nothing. “Wow—we’ve still got it.”

“Did we ever not have it?” she asked, and kissed me.

“And that thing with your hair—good?” I asked.

“It’s our very good secret,” she said.

With this sexual breakthrough, I was ready to dedicate my life to her and leave the pleasures of Jewel and Anna behind. Of course, this would require me to stop my current plan and accept a teaching position, but—well, not just yet.

TWENTY-ONE

In espionage, the post-pitch meeting was always critical because many sources would get cold feet or buyer’s remorse and need renewed convincing that their original decision to betray their country had been the right one.

Some sources were concerned about their security, others wanted more money, while still others wanted out or claimed they didn’t understand what they had agreed to do.

A skilled Intelligence Officer could weather this storm and steady the ship. After all, no reasonable person could agree to betray his country without a significant emotional response.

For Jade Envy, because he had provided information that allowed us to prevent a cyberattack, most professionals would assume that he was legitimate and be ready to get down to business.

This was what I told Brett and Nguyen, with a promise to discuss their list of more compromising questions. I, of course, knew otherwise. The information he provided about the cyberattack on the Pentagon was mere feed material to convince us that he was the real deal.

For reasons not yet clear, the Chinese wanted us to believe that he was working for us, and his reason for doing so would be revealed during this meeting.

We were on our home turf, but we took security precautions to ensure that no one observed the meeting. Protecting sources and methods was job number one in the intelligence business.

We could meet in a bar or restaurant with minimal risk, but we didn’t want to be seen by someone from his embassy or one of the hundreds of foreign Intelligence Officers working the streets of D.C. Not to mention, we wanted to show him that everything was fine; he wouldn’t expect anything less. As such, the FBI had provided me an alias driver’s license and credit card to get a hotel suite, a bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue Label, and a tin of salted cashews.

Something told me neither of us would be in the mood to eat.

I arrived a half hour early to prepare the suite and pour a drink, pacing around like a tiger in its cage, considering what I wanted to say and how I would handle the meeting, depending on what curve balls he threw my way. I soon found myself holding an empty glass and pouring a second drink. I turned on the television to mask the sound in case a curious neighbor or passerby wanted to eavesdrop on our conversation. Soon after, somehow, my glass was empty again.

By the time I heard a knock on the door, I was halfway through my third drink. Through the peephole, I saw he was dressed in a blue blazer with no tie. I opened the door, shook his hand and waved him inside, and