POLITICS
IN 1989, A SPY WALKED INTO my father’s office in New York City. He claimed to be a military officer assigned to the Soviet mission to the United States and said he wanted to do business. My dad, a Pakistani immigrant, had started a small defense company that supplied the U.S. government with books and research material. So while a Soviet standing in his office was abnormal, what he asked for—information on nuclear nonproliferation—was not.
About 20 minutes after the man left, two FBI agents walked in and told my father the man’s true identity. Then they asked for his help: My dad was to continue doing business with him and share what information he learned with the bureau. It was the beginning of a decades-long relationship between my family and the FBI that lasted until 2009.