Kayla stared wide-eyed at Alfred. She had never imagined that Alfred was the legendary agent who possessed the list and had run circles around the East Coast intelligence personnel.
"But getting from Britain to Moscow shouldn't require passing through the American East Coast, should it?" Kayla asked in confusion.
But then she realized it, slapped her forehead, and said, "Oh, right, you couldn't head straight for Moscow. They definitely would have intercepted you along the way..."
"But even if you had to take a detour, did it need to be this far? From Britain to the American East Coast, then to the Soviet Union—you practically went around the globe..."
"Even thirty years later, the entire world is still searching for this list. Haven't you realized how important it was?"
Hearing Alfred say that, Kayla gave it some careful thought. Indeed, from the present perspective, the list's main purpose was to erase the blame for intelligence failures. But it had been nearly thirty years already. The list could not merely be called outdated; many of the people recorded on it might already have died.
But thirty years ago, the importance of a list recording the key spies of every nation went without saying.
Alfred took out a piece of deerskin from his pocket and began wiping down the barrel of his hunting rifle. He said, "Moscow provided many routes, but without exception, every one of them lay within the CIA's interception range."
"In those days, the CIA had its hands everywhere. It had to be said that American agents back then were far more capable than they were now."
"Then why... Oh, my God, the most dangerous place was the safest place?! So you headed straight into the United States??"
Alfred smiled, seeming to lament Kayla's youth. He said, "The most