

His stomach hurt, and he complained about the food at every meal.

He wanted to be gone, but he was still in Beijing’s reach worse, he was in a colony. Yu paced the rooms of the safe house the first few days, sleepless and depressed. Britain controlled Hong Kong back then, and the apartment was safe from the Chinese agents who would have killed Yu if they knew where he was hiding. Guards from the CIA’s Office of Security kept watch from a nearby flat and from across the street. The week after Yu Qiangsheng defected from China, he was closeted in a safe house in Repulse Bay, facing the sea. But the characters in this story inhabit the world of imagination. And, certainly, the starting point of Yu’s defection is accurate. This isn’t a “true” account of what happened in the spy wars between the CIA and the Chinese Ministry of State Security over the past few decades. The spy world, as people so often say, is painted in “shades of gray,” and its facts are embossed with fiction. They create “legends” for their operatives to document an imaginary past. Intelligence agencies give their real-life assets invented names, as in a novel.

China’s spymasters gradually regained their balance and a decade ago, they shattered the network of CIA informants inside the country, killing or arresting more than two dozen people. But it is the nature of intelligence that nothing is what it at first appears. When Yu Qiangsheng, a top official of the Ministry of State Security, stole across the border to Hong Kong in November 1985, he left behind a fragile Chinese intelligence service that seemed ready to collapse.
