“He hated waiting, despised inactivity. And so he found himself doing calisthenics every morning and taking long runs through the city every day. Sailors looked at him as if he were some crazy tourist, shaking their heads. But he kept it up every day, not wanting the fine physical edge honed at Coronado to wear off. After exercising, he’d return to the hotel and study the charts, memorizing every last detail. The CIA didn’t expect him to come out alive. Sha didn’t expect him to come out alive. W...ell, he wanted to prove them wrong. He liked surprising people, being an underdog—but one who emerges victorious. Most of all, though, he wanted to surprise Cwong. In the past few weeks, a picture of Con Ye Cwong had gathered detail in his mind, like an image on photographic paper coming to life in a tub of chemicals. Dull gray at first, the image soon took on details, shades of light and black, and finally came into sharp focus, to life. Cwong was alive in Hawker’s mind now, a living, breathing creature, a fat spider comfortable in his web.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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