In the morning, I wake up at Cool Shade Hostel, a backpacker’s haven serving as the headquarters of R.E.I.N. Headquarters is nothing like I imagined. The triangular roof and white stone structure of the French colonial is lost in a…

Following Mr. Yellow’s lead, I took a train from Shanghai to the Chinese countryside and followed the trail to a place called Yangshuo. A rented bicycle brought me to an arched stone bridge, which served as a point of deliberation…

We drive through green and dappled light, passengers getting off every couple of hours at bus stops and banana trees. The bus is almost empty, careening on the edges of steep hill roads. We ride with every window open, boys…

Interpol has a funny way of reassigning double agents like Jack. Keeps them in the seats, as they say, to see the two go at it again. That’s what the people want. This time, the stakes are a little higher.…

I spotted him beyond the pool table as a hazy light shined over his gardener’s jacket, his shoulders hunched over his drink, his back shaped like a question mark. The guitar riffs to Pink Floyd’s Run Like Hell played at…

The sun sets over West Street as I wander the cobblestone streets. The smell of sandalwood sprinkles the night and reminds me of places I’ve never been. Paper lanterns tell you there’s only one way to go. The road, shrouded…