An American spy - Olen Steinhauer

Milo Weaver is still haunted by his last job. As an expert assassin for
the Department of Tourism, an ultra-secret group of super-spooks buried
deep in the corridors of the CIA, he fought to keep himself sane in a
paranoid and amoral profession. Now, the Department has been destroyed,
and with it Weaver's livelihood. Finally he can spend time with his
family - without constantly looking over his shoulder and fixing one eye
on the exits.
Weaver's former boss is not so settled. For Alan
Drummond, Tourism was everything. Now, all he wants is to take revenge
on the Chinese spymaster that exploded their operations from within.
Weaver tries to persuade him to leave sleeping cells lie, but when
Drummond disappears from a London hotel room, Weaver is sucked back down into
his old life. Soon, Weaver is sifting
through secrets, lies and misinformation. If his time as a Tourist has taught
him anything, it's that nothing and no-one can be trusted - even within
the CIA itself...

Grew up in Virginia, lived in Austin, San Francisco, Boston, Brooklyn, and other places in the States, as well as Romania (on a Fulbright research fellowship), Italy, and Hungary (where I've lived since 2002, now with my wife and daughter).

An MFA in Creative Writing from Emerson College in Boston, a BA in English from the University of Texas, Austin.
Semester in Zagreb, Fall/Winter 1989 (when the Wall fell).

First novel (The Bridge of Sighs) nominated for 5 awards, including the CWA Historical Dagger. Two Edgar nominations to my credit. The Tourist was nominated for the SpecSavers CWA Ian Fleming Silver Dagger and reached the New York Times bestseller list. It's also being developed for a feature film by Warner Bros and Smoke House Productions, starring George Clooney.

Steinhauer does for Chino-American espionage exactly what John le Carr did for the Cold War, which gives his thriller a unique insight into this treacherous half-lit world in the 21st century.
Daily Mail

Tauter than Robert Ludlum's Bourne
Daily Mail

The kind of thing Le Carre might have written if he knew then what we know now
Lee Child