Tinker, Tailor, Goyim, Spy

"Hrm. I didn't know that improvised weapons was a course at Harvard."

"It's not," Murphy replied, "but wandering around can enable you to collect useful trivia. Give me thirty seconds and a paper clip, I can play havoc with your electrical system. Not to mention kill someone eight ways with a pen." Murphy kept a straight face for a moment, then laughed. "And I spent some time with the Anarchist's Cookbook before I got on the plane— somehow, I had the strangest thought that El Al security wouldn't approve of me carrying it on board."

Morgenstern leaned back in his chair, pondering the situation. With some more training, this might work ... "I should probably tell you, I looked into the situation down at human resources. Apparently, you're not the only one who's interested in joining the Mossad."

"One of what?" Murphy inquired. "The Goyim?"

He nodded. "Several of the Evangelicals who have immigrated also applied for membership. If this keeps up, we're going to be swimming in them."

"So, you form a Goyim brigade and move on." Murphy shrugged. "Would it really be so hard? I can imagine that you would have Rabbis kicking around your ranks, would it really be so hard to enlist a few priests? I understand Franciscans run the Christian holy places in Jerusalem. Congratulations, you have dead drops."

Morgenstern tried to think of the last time he heard a civilian use the phrase "dead drop" that wasn't in the context of the latest spy novel. "You've given this a lot of thought, haven't you?"

A shrug. "I'm a numbers guy, I try to think ahead. Making the pieces fit is more or less what I did in accounting. Though I think I will prefer spying. It should be less boring, if nothing else."

Imi Morgenstern sighed. "I hope you're not expecting to be James Bond when you're done with training."

"No. Bond's messing about, heavy spending, gambling, and screwing around always seemed like a good way to get killed—by a bookie, a jealous ex, a casino that disliked his winning all the time—pick one."

"Oh? Who do you prefer then?"

"George Smiley."

Morgenstern smiled. "In which case, if you want to be an antidote to John 'Taliban' Walker, then I hereby dub you Scott 'Mossad' Murphy."