A SPY WALKS INTO THIS BAR
A Cold War Tale of Misdirection and Redemption
by
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“Tell me Admiral, how did you and William meet back in Greece?” William found it slightly amusing that the Ambassador for the first time ever referred to him by his first name, as if they were old friends. Commander Emmert had briefed the Admiral earlier in the evening that William was not the Chief of Station, so he made no embarrassing comments as to his old friend’s current position. “Hasn’t William told you why we became such close friends in Athens?” “We simply knew each other back in Athens, years ago – nothing to really tell,” quickly interjected William. “What do you mean ‘nothing’? You saved my life as well as dozens of others.” That certainly caught the attention of the Ambassador and many others at that end of the table, including Olivia. “I’m afraid William has been too modest to talk about that event, but please do, Admiral,” requested the Ambassador. “Well, William and I were having dinner one evening at this restaurant in Athens that was popular with NATO military personnel, when in came these two terrorists with AK-47 assault rifles. They were wearing balaclavas over their faces and had hand grenades on their belts, just like in some Hollywood movie.” By this point, conversation had stopped up and down the table so that they could hear the Admiral. William sat staring down at his plate. “William here was just coming back from the Men’s Room and came out behind one of the terrorists, who didn’t see or hear him. William put his hands on the sides of the man’s head and in one swift motion snapped his neck. Before he fell to the floor, William had his arms around him and grabbed the AK-47. While holding up the dead man’s body as a shield, he used the gun to shoot to death the second terrorist. A few customers wound up with minor wounds, but the only dead people were the two terrorists.” “My god, William, that’s extraordinary,” exclaimed the Ambassador. “A genuine hero, and a modest one at that. He’s never said a word about that action in Athens.” “As I said, that was many years ago. I simply got lucky that night.” The Admiral raised his glass to propose a toast and the rest of the table followed suit. “To the man who saved my life.” As the dinner ended and guests began to leave the Ambassador’s residence, Admiral Young pulled William aside for a brief and private discussion. “I don’t know how your Agency works, but how in the hell are you not the Chief of Station here in Lisbon instead of that weasel Loken?” William laughed. “You always were a quick judge of character. As for why I’m not the chief, well, let’s just say that various things have happened over the years. It doesn’t really matter. I just need to get in a couple more years abroad so as to pay for my daughters’ college educations, then I can hang it up and go home and relax. It’s a long story that you needn’t worry about.” “If you say so, but with this military build-up, I can have about anything or anybody I want. You say the word and I’ll personally request that you be detached to my staff as a special advisor. We can come up with a proper title if you want to move.” “Listen, Mike, I really do appreciate your offer, but I think just staying here and keeping my head down is best for me at this point in my career. I’m not looking for promotions or glory. I just need a steady paycheck for two more years. After that, you can come visit me on my front porch somewhere back in America.” Young patted him firmly on the shoulder. “Alright, if that’s want you want to do. By the way that Olivia is a great gal. You might want to work at hanging on to her.” “I’ll do that. Say, before you go, any prediction on how this upcoming fight’s going to go? I’m not asking when it will start – that’s none of my business, but what’s your personal prediction on how it will go? The American public doesn’t like wars that drag on and on with no clear end, like Vietnam. Saddam’s been spending all that oil money of his on weapons for years. He might actually have a decent military force.” The Admiral laughed, then leaned close to William’s ear. “We’re going to go through Saddam’s Army like crap through a goose, to quote General Patton. This war will be over before CNN even has a chance to leak any secrets to the public.” William laughed so hard that others on the other side of the room turned to look at them.
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About the Book
It’s 1990 and the Cold War is coming to an end, but the game of espionage continues on as America and the West prepares for the First Gulf War with Iraq. The career of longtime CIA officer, William Wythe, is also coming to a sad end at his final posting in Lisbon, Portugal. His last ten years have been spent mostly in an alcoholic blur since his wife died in a terrorist attack meant for him. The Chief of Station wants to be rid of him, a special counterintelligence section of the CIA suspects he may be a Russian mole and the high point of his dark weeks is anonymously playing piano at a local dive in the city two nights a week. But as is often the case in the “wilderness of mirrors” of espionage, all the facts and the people may not be as they seem. An unhappily married Brazilian woman is frequenting this jazz club and growing fonder of William, raising some hope that he may yet have a future worth living. She joins him on a private search for missing Hungarian royal jewels, which may have been hidden in Portugal towards the end of WWII. A modern neo-Nazi group is also on the hunt for those same jewels. All the players cross paths at the Clube de Jazz, which is run by an elderly Italian-American who’d been in America’s wartime O.S.S., the forerunner of the Central Intelligence Agency.
About the Author
Mr. Coyle spent 30 years as a field operations officer for the CIA, almost half of that time abroad, working undercover in a variety of countries, including Portugal and in Moscow in the mid-1980s during the Soviet Union era. He is a recipient of the CIA’s Intelligence Medal of Merit for one of his Russian operations. After retiring in 2006 he taught courses on national security issues until 2017 at his alma mater, Indiana University, while beginning to write fictional spy novels as a hobby. Having himself been an intelligence officer and recruited a number of foreign officials, he is able tell a realistic story of what goes on in the shadows and the motivations of people who become spies. This is his ninth spy novel about the intellectual chess game that goes on between the hunter and the hunted.