He had sat in a first-class seat with a drink and a plan and done a calm cost-benefit calculation in which three hundred human lives came out on the cheaper side of a spreadsheet.

That is a kind of evil that doesn’t look like evil from the outside; it wears a suit and speaks quietly and signs its name in a steady hand.

I had spent my career being taught to fear the enemy who wants to kill you.

No one had warned me about the far more ordinary man who simply regards you as a line item to be zeroed out.

He had not planned on a fighter pilot asleep in 8A.