I spent 21 years in the Central Intelligence Agency as a linguist, analyst, and speechwriter. It was a love-hate relationship. I found the culture of the place fascinating and sometimes maddening. The intellectual challenge was addictive. I met some of the best people I’ve ever known and a few of the worst. I learned about high stakes and moral ambiguity, intellectual integrity and bald careerism, selfless service, and rollicking arrogance. I discovered that the intelligence world is a world apart yet an eerily accurate reflection of broader society. I’ve chosen books written by authors who spent time in intelligence work and crafted novels that define and sometimes defy the spy genre.
I wrote
Intelligence: A Tale of Terror and Uncivil Service
I love this book because it doesn’t dress up espionage in a tuxedo or pretend that the world is black and white. Ashenden is a novel about humanity and hard choices rather than high-speed chases and spy gadgetry.
It is about one human lever in a relentless machine. Maugham gives us small tragedies and cold moments alone with the conscience. His literary genius makes a single death off-stage more resonant than an explosion.
When war broke out in 1914, Somerset Maugham was dispatched by the British Secret Service to Switzerland under the guise of completing a play. Multilingual, knowledgeable about many European countries and a celebrated writer, Maugham had the perfect cover, and the assignment appealed to his love of romance, and of the ridiculous. The stories collected in Ashenden are rooted in Maugham's own experiences as an agent, reflecting the ruthlessness and brutality of espionage, its intrigue and treachery, as well as its absurdity.
This book introduced me to the magnificent John le Carré and his grey man, George Smiley. The atmosphere is cold and heavy, the hero is unassuming, and the light he holds against the darkness is small and flickering.
To unravel the truth, Smiley focuses on one piece of information that doesn’t fit. He doesn’t stop until that last piece falls into place and presents him with a wrenching choice.
After a routine security check by George Smiley, civil servant Samuel Fennan apparently kills himself. When Smiley finds Circus head Maston is trying to blame him for the man's death, he begins his own investigation, meeting with Fennan's widow to find out what could have led him to such desperation. But on the very day that Smiley is ordered off the enquiry he receives an urgent letter from the dead man. Do the East Germans - and their agents - know more about this man's death than the Circus previously imagined?
Le Carre's debut novel, Call for the Dead, introduced…
Early in my career, I realized that 1.) Spy bureaucracies lend themselves to satire, and 2.) Inventing information to sell to a government is a line of work as old as espionage. Graham Greene leverages these truths in the grandaddy of satiric spy novels.
His protagonist, James Wormold, is a vacuum cleaner salesman who becomes a reluctant employee of MI6. Wormold fabricates assets, reports, and expense accounts to boost his lagging sales income and spoil his daughter. In the process, he trips over the uneven border between invention and reality and almost gets himself killed.
MI6’s man in Havana is Wormold, a former vacuum-cleaner salesman turned reluctant secret agent out of economic necessity. To keep his job, he files bogus reports based on Charles Lamb’s Tales from Shakespeare and dreams up military installations from vacuum-cleaner designs. Then his stories start coming disturbingly true…
First published in 1959 against the backdrop of the Cold War, Our Man in Havana remains one of Graham Greene’s most widely read novels. It is an espionage thriller, a penetrating character study, and a political satire of government intelligence that still resonates today. This Penguin Classics edition features an introduction by…
Despite the title, this is a novel, not a memoir, but it springs from the author’s long experience in the U.S. intelligence community. A colleague once told Thieme, “The only way you can tell the truth is through fiction.” While most spy novels are plot-driven, this book is deeply character-driven.
The highest drama in intelligence work is what it does to the hearts and souls of those who practice it. The struggle to maintain a center amid shifting identities, the fatal failures, and the burden of knowing things that forever alter how one sees the world takes a heavy toll on his protagonist.
"The only way you can tell the truth is through fiction," a veteran NSA senior told Richard Thieme. Mobius: A Memoir does just that. It is about a spy but not a typical “spy novel;” it is a love story but definitely not a “romance." Mobius is a stunning exploration of the impact of a life of deception and professional intelligence work which illuminates the world in which we all now live.
I never met Alex Finley, but we worked for some of the same people, and her book triggered a flood of memories for me. Black humor thrives in counterterrorism work—partly because laughing is a more acceptable way to release tension in the workplace than crying or punching tech support.
This is broad satire but with a hefty dose of authenticity. Anyone who has worked in a bureaucracy will laugh at this novel, but if you’ve worked in an intelligence bureaucracy, you’ll be snorting coffee from your nose.
Victor Caro is a counterterrorism officer with the CYA, caught in a world where job security trumps national security. On assignment in West Africa in a post-9/11 world, he is tasked with hunting down the terrorist Omar al-Suqqit, who is looking to launch his group of ragtag militants onto the international jihadi stage. But chasing a terrorist proves an easier challenge than managing his agency’s bureaucracy. Omar, meanwhile, faces his own bureaucratic struggles as he joins forces with a global terrorist group that begins micro-managing its franchises in an effort to streamline attacks. When Victor appears on his own country’s…
A team of intelligence officers tries to prevent a terrorist attack but is thwarted by bureaucracy and foul political winds. The research for this one came hard. I spent the last four years of my career as an analyst at the CIA Counterterrorism Center. Those years included 9/11 and U.S. entry into the war in Iraq.
I was dismayed by the gulf between the intelligence that crossed my screen and the narrative fed to the American public. I witnessed the intense pressure on the intelligence community to produce evidence to justify war. Some people stood their ground, and others caved. My novel is set a few years after 9/11 when the agency is still terrified of another failure. It has a satiric edge because humor helped me through an unfunny time in U.S. history.
This book (and its sequels) are about overcoming the odds; about learning to improve the skills and abilities you have, rather than dwelling on what you can't do. Conflict, plague, and scheming politicians are all featured along the way–but none of the characters are human!
When a plague kills half the Drax population, and leaves the hatchlings of the survivors with a terrible deformity – no wings – suspicion and prejudice follow. Continuously harassed by raids from their traditional enemies, the Koth, the Drax are looking for someone, or something, to blame.
Zarda, an apprentice Fate-seer, is new to her role and unsure of her own abilities; but the death of her teacher sees her summoned by the Drax Prime, Kalis, when his heir, Dru, emerges from his shell without wings.
A vision that Dru will one day defeat the Koth is enough to keep…
