My father fought the CIA’s secret war in Laos

The summer before university, my dad and I went for a drive in the old Volvo – just the two of us, something we never did. We buckled our seatbelts, and kicked up dust on the gravel lane.

“Peter, it’s time to tell you about the family business,” my dad said as he tapped his fingers on the wheel waiting for a red light. The light turned green and we pulled out onto the main road.