29
" He shrugged. “You know I was in the dark about all that as much as you were. This time it’s straightforward. And sanctioned.” “Sanctioned by whom?” He looked at me. “By the proper authorities.” “All right,” I said, taking a sip from the porcelain demitasse. “Tell me.” He leaned forward and put his elbows on the table. “After nine-eleven, Congress took the shackles off the Agency. There’s a new spirit in the place. We’re pushing the envelope again, going after the bad guys—” “The few, the proud?” He frowned. “Look, we’re really making a difference now—” “Be all that you can be?” His jaw clenched. “Do you just enjoy pissing me off?” “A bit, yes.” “It’s petty.” I took another sip of espresso. “What’s your point?” “I wish you’d just listen.” “So far I’ve listened to five clichés, including something about shackled envelopes. I’m waiting for you to actually say something.” He flushed, but then nodded and even managed a chuckle. I smiled at his composure. He had matured since I had last seen him. "
― Barry Eisler , Winner Take All (John Rain, #3)
36
" A striking blonde had just come through the front doors. She was wearing a black pants suit and pumps. Practical, but classy. What you’d see on a traveler carrying a first-class ticket. She was tall, too, maybe five-nine, five-ten, with long legs that looked good even in pants, and a ripe, voluptuous body. A porter followed her in, gripping a pair of large Vuitton bags. He paused near her, and leaned forward to ask something. She raised a hand to indicate he should wait, then started her own visual sweep of the room. I hadn’t expected that, and quickly returned my attention to Keiko until the blonde’s gaze had passed over us. When I glanced over again, she was standing beside Belghazi, her arm linked through his. Something about her presence was as relaxed and, in its way, as commanding as his. Everything about her seemed natural: her hair, her face, the curves beneath her clothes. "
― Barry Eisler , Winner Take All (John Rain, #3)