Her eyes widened. She stared at me and then looked away, shaking her head. She covered her face with her hands for a moment, then went into the kitchen. She said she would make me some tea. I thought she was reacting the same way Weiss had, that she thought I was crazy.

When Annie returned, she looked different. Her face looked resolute, as if she had steeled herself for something unpleasant. I didn’t understand at the time how close she was to the line, or how hard she was trying to keep faith with me.

“You know what you need, Eric?” she said. “You need to grow up. If you think Arthur Bowman is a spy, then do something about it. If you’re tired of being a journalist, then quit. But don’t keep complaining about things and doing nothing. It doesn’t become you. And it’s making you unhappy.”

Her words were as sharp as a slap on my face. I knew she was right. I had spent fifteen years as a journalist, trying as hard as I could to be a passive scorekeeper of other people’s lives, and the disturbing part was that I had succeeded. I had become that passive person. My morals began and ended with the question of whether something would make a good story, and whether it would thereby advance my career. I wanted to make a change, to square my accounts. But I wasn’t sure how to begin.

III: WASHINGTON–BEIJING (MARCH–MAY 1996)

III

WASHINGTON–BEIJING

MARCH–MAY 1996

20

20

On the far wall of the CIA headquarters building was that famous quotation from John’s gospel they always mention in profiles of the agency: “You shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free.” I was standing by the security desk, waiting for my escort, and from where I stood, the only obvious truth was that the place looked shabby. The floors were dirty; the walls looked as if they hadn’t been repainted since the 1960s; the most prominent décor was an electronic security gate that could read badges automatically. Lurking by the front door were a few hard-core nicotine addicts, sucking on their cigarettes. Just ahead of me at the main desk was an absurd sign listing the things that weren’t permitted inside the building: NO FIREARMS OR EXPLOSIVES, NO SMOKING, NO ALCOHOL, NO SOLICITATION, NO GAMBLING. It had the feel of a classroom building at a second-rate state university.