The Tears of Autumn
Charles McCarry
Language: English
Pages: 168
ISBN: B01MQIPKOV
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
Review
'There is no better American spy novelist. It's like the best parts of ten John le Carré novels all put together' - TIME. 'Charles McCarry's masterpiece... would be intriguing even if told in pedestrian prose, but the grace of its writing gives it a special dimension... beautifully written, its conspiracy theory still intrigues and it most assuredly is a classic' --Washington Post
'The best writer of intelligence and political novels in the world' - Boston Globe. 'Cool, intelligent... superbly readable... rich entertainment' --Sunday Times
'Ranks up there with Le Carré in a select class of two' - Daily Mail. 'Possibly the greatest espionage novel ever written and certainly the most compelling effort to unravel the many secrets surrounding the assassination of President Kennedy' --Otto Penzler, New York Sun
About the Author
Charles McCarry is the author, most recently, of the critically acclaimed thriller 'Christopher's Ghosts'. His other much-praised novels include 'The Miernik Dossier', 'The Last Supper' and 'Old Boys'. During the Cold War he was an intelligence officer operating under deep cover in Europe, Africa and Asia.
Nicole. Intellectual systems are developed to justify the exchange of death; the system of the Ghanaian tribe is as sensible as Christianity or your own family’s sense of aristocracy, or what the Americans call the dignity of the individual. In Germany, two thousand years of Christian teaching produced the SS. In Vietnam, two thousand years of colonialism produced this slaughter of peasants Ho Chi Minh calls a revolution and Diem never put a name to. It required only a hundred years of technology
throat, and fell to his knees. The gun wavered as a spot of bluish flame blinked at the muzzle. Christopher did not hear the round go by, and he thought it might have struck him. He felt no pain. He staggered into a bright street and saw a canal shining at the end of it. A young Chinese grasped his arm roughly and glared suspiciously into his face. Christopher smiled at him and struck him under the chin with the heel of his open hand; the boy’s light body was lifted into the air by the blow, and
legs crossed, pointed a finger at Webster, who never gave any sign that he heard the things she said about him. Webster tapped the report. “This is hotter than a firecracker,” he said. “Do you think Diem and Nhu are really in touch with the North?” “Why not? They sure as hell don’t trust Washington anymore.” “What was Nhu like at the party?” “Polite. I didn’t ask him to his face what he was planning. Wolkowicz didn’t like that.” “Screw Wolkowicz. All he wants to do is clean out
to reply. He frowned, as if exasperated with a stupid person, and went on. “He told me to tell you this: there is no limit of time. You’d have to hide her for the rest of her life.” “And what will he do with Nicole?” “Protect her, as long as he lives. But he’s old, and when he dies, Nicole will be just a girl.” Kim, his hands still behind him, rose on his toes. “Believe me,” he said, “if you go on, if you don’t stop, Molly will have rice in her mouth.” Christopher did not understand Kim’s
“Nsango has explained how I got here.” “Yes,” Manuel said. “But not why. You and he are old friends.” “Yes.” “He says you’re an activist, that you’ve helped him.” “I’ve always admired Nsango.” Christopher handed Manuel the knife he had loaned him, handle first. It, too, was American, a new-issue, short-bladed bayonet. “What I want to say to you has something to do with your work in another place,” Christopher said. “I bring you some help for what you’re doing here.” “Oh? What are your