The List (Slough House, #2.5)

by Mick Herron

It sometimes amused Bachelor, sometimes depressed him, that he worked for the secret service in an era where half the population aired its private life on the web. He wasn’t sure the Cold War had been preferable, but it had been more dignified.

It might have been the hangover, but the leakage from the headphones of the man opposite sounded like a demon’s whisper.