Gray Day: My Undercover Mission to Expose America's First Cyber Spy by Eric O'Neill

Author:Eric O'Neill
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Crown
Published: 2019-03-15T00:00:00+00:00

At FBI HQ, the walls essentially did have eyes and ears. I’d have to ask Garcia to work some magic to make this evening disappear.

When the hallway quieted, I maneuvered the cart through the conference-room doorway and locked it behind me, then dashed down the hall to the elevator. I pressed the Up button and thought of the annual Vegas trips my uncle John organized. My brother David and I would join the Italian side of my family for a weekend of drinking, cigars, great food, and plenty of gambling. I rarely gamble, but watching my uncle and his cousin Joe at the craps table was like racing down a crowded highway in a Porsche 911 with no brakes—all adrenaline with no care for consequence. You survived as long as luck held. This late at night the odds fell in my favor, but I reminded myself of Uncle John’s number-one rule about gambling: Know when to walk away.

My heart relaxed as the doors opened. I dragged the cart into the empty elevator and moments later across the silent ninth-floor hallway to Room 9930. A rare sort of smile split my face. The kind that you’d never find on a Boy Scout. I used the stapler to hammer the stolen picture hangers into the walls above my desk and over the empty desk across the room. As I drove the first nail into drywall, I wondered what the monitoring team at WFO thought of my crime. By the second, I thought about Hanssen, and whether espionage delivered him the same satisfaction that stealing art had given me. I’d stolen three expensive prints from an assistant director and knew I would get away with it. I hung the boring golf picture over the empty desk and left the two men adrift at sea leaning against the wall in front of Hanssen’s office.

The hunting scene went over my desk. Kate’s certainty that Hanssen was Gray Suit had shaken my outlook on the case. The FBI’s long hunt for Gray Suit had given the spy legendary status. Catching Hanssen was the intelligence-community equivalent of dredging Nessie from Inverness’s deepest loch or trapping Bigfoot in the pine-forested mountains of Wyoming. I stared at the print I’d just stolen and made myself a promise. From that moment forward I’d no longer play the role of the fox, dodging Hanssen’s questions and carrying on the chase. It was time to join the hunt.

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