Too personal. Security risks. I looked around and saw no one. But that didn’t guarantee anything.
I thought of past relationships I had with Company people. They had always been straight arrows. You knew their direction - and their purpose. Once in a while - in a great while - one went off on his own. That didn’t last long. There was a euphemism we used about eliminating a target - about ‘getting the measles.’ The other alternative was to discredit them - a trumped-up charge. Neither alternative was pleasant. They were rare - having to deal with people like this - but I understood it happened. No one wanted it to happen to them.
The other alternative, if you disagreed with policy, was to take a lateral transfer - out of the Company. And into one of its many fronts - travel agencies, detective agencies, offshore consulting groups. That would have been my preference. If I had been given one.
Jason came from a family of intellectuals - he pretty much accepted what he was told by the New York Times. Not that they’re often wrong - there’s a story about a man in North Africa - head of one of the stations. He decided to transfer intelligence to another station on a test basis and he used only one source - the New York Times. The briefings were so accurate they thought it took him months to develop the scenarios he listed. He ‘gamed’ a certain situation as if he were one of the players - method acting transferred to the Intelligence Community. But all of his information came from the Times - a few dollars from petty cash developed his briefing reports.
This same station chief had at one time developed a tremendous level of disinformation he wanted to influence Israeli Intelligence with. He provided briefing reports to them - they wouldn’t read it. And so then he took a briefing report - changed the name on the cover and marked it ‘Top Secret’ - left it in the King David Hotel in a conference room and within one hour it was missing. It was later read and acted on by Israeli Intelligence. There’s always more than one way to operate.
There’s always more than one way to operate - those words filled my mind as Jason and I looked over the beach, into the sun and sky. Each thinking his own thoughts. Each looking for a way - maybe a way out. My thoughts were on survival - I knew not to say too much. I knew my thoughts couldn’t be read and I was safe to think and plan. In my thought life just then I reflected on what an unusual coincidence that I was meeting a beautiful woman of the same name as a paramilitary operation we were covertly conducting.
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