True Lies - Redux

I had already learned a little Kendo and other oriental "weapons" martial arts - but the European tradition was definitely different and deadly effective in it's own ways.

I also did pretty well academically but especially in languages. I took an Arabic language course in my second semester and did well. It was fascinating to me in many ways and there were a few students of Arabic descent in my class, including one very pretty girl. I was interested definitely...(Priesthood? Celibacy? Maybe not...) and we were soon part of a small study group meeting almost nightly. There seemed to be some sparks between us but maybe that was just my hopeful imagination.

And this was when I was first recruited. I had come to the attention of one of my Jesuit professors with ties to some Jesuits at Georgetown University - and the broader informal network of Jesuits always on the lookout for potential recruits for our national security agencies. This all goes back to Wild Bill Donovan and the OSS - precursor to the CIA - and continues even today.

I don't know if Father Warren knew of my martial arts hobby, but he certainly knew of my college fencing as well as my growing proficiency in Arabic. Being able to speak Arabic and being a quick learner and fairly intelligent were pluses. Being of small stature was also a real plus - since that would allow me to blend in undercover much easier in so many other countries worldwide, from North Africa to Middle East to even India, China, Korea, and Japan.

He was very persuasive, as it turned out. He gave me some pretty thrilling private readings of previous recruits and their successes. (As always - the failures weren't bragged about and often became blaringly and embarrassingly known and broadcast by our wonderful free press, while the more numerous and crucial successes were rightly kept secret for many reasons - including "asset" protection.) He also gave me a fascinating book on Ignatius of Loyola, one of the founders of the Society of Jesus. Ignatius was a warrior, a dandy, a swordsman duelist who killed men in pointless "affairs of honor", before being wounded in battle and finally seeing the light - rejecting violence and really embracing the teachings of Jesus from that point forward in 1512.

So, I joined up.

I'm still not quite sure what I joined, but I'm pretty sure it's a "humintel" operations group ultimately reporting to the NSA. Yeah - NSA is supposed to be just electronics surveillance and data collection and "mining"...right? We all know that.

But from that point forward I didn't have to worry about money for books, tuitions, room and board and had enough to live on comfortably. I ALSO started getting some instructions in techniques not ever really officially covered in college.

Like seduction and post-graduate sexual techniques. Yes - celibacy and the Priesthood lay far, far in the future now, if ever!

I also started receiving instruction in Cantonese and Chinese culture, unofficially, while officially changing my major to Arabic and Middle Eastern studies.

My first practice "target" was Fatima, the girl in my Arabic class. I was supposed to "get close to her" and try to influence her. Of course sexual seduction is a key way to do this. Not the only way though. I was taught a lot of psychology and "personal sociology" basics and then advanced, like Howard Bloom's "Lucifer Principles" of grooming and stroking, pecking order power and status (both real and imagined - imagined is QUITE good enough if the target believes it!) and the importance of "memes" (worldview) and how someone's memes CAN be changed and changed quickly! Ignatius's own "meme" had changed drastically back in 1512, and everyday many individuals "worldviews" come crashing down - like a husband who finds his wife has been cheating on him in an "exit affair". Or someone who invested their life savings in a "sure thing" like a Bernie Madoff Hedge Fund and goes from securely well-off to struggling financially in almost the blink of an eye. It's good, and a normal human trait, to be as flexible as possible in one's world view.

I received a fairly complete dossier on Fatima and her family, which included some upper middle class relatives still living in Saudi Arabia. No indication anyone in her friends and family listing were radical Islamists but everyone was at least a "social" Muslim, and I was tasked to both check that out and just build some kind of lasting relationship with her. This meant if I DID end up seducing her into sex, it better not end badly! Now - that's a pretty good challenge for a college freshman.

I decided to go slow that year and strove for a firm friendship and let her lead into anything more if she felt so inclined. I could only hope she returned in the fall. I couldn't be with her that summer because I was headed to "basic training" somewhere in Virginia.

This was to include basic hand-to-hand defensive fundamentals but after only one class I became a co-instructor and spent a lot of time just sparring with the other instructors. Most were SEAL level spec ops veterans and they were amazed at my own skill level and physical capabilities. You often hear how such "instructors" could be real badass sadists trying to instill "toughness" but none of these guys did any of that crapola, they just tried to teach what they KNEW from personal experience worked - at least for them in every situation they were ever involved in.

Mostly it was "first strike/one strike" deadly techniques. They never bothered with anything LIKE "fair fighting" BS like even pro MMA is. Real "fights", like real sword duels, only last seconds until someone is down and out and often dying. Any head strike that causes a loss of consciousness almost always causes a concussion and can lead to death. Even a carotid artery judo "choke" hold that can cause unconsciousness in about 20 seconds occasionally leads to death in judo tournaments with EMT's on site. Sometimes the crushed carotids rupture or stay blocked. Brain death (death period) then soon follows in minutes. Shoot, even Olympic sport fencing matches sometimes tragically lead to death. All it takes is for a blade to break during a "touche" and that spring steel sans "button" can easily penetrate the heavy cotton jackets previously worn. Kevlar jackets are now becoming popular as a result.

I had already told my own family and few normal friends I had in college (and Fatima) that I had landed a paying internship at an NGO near Washington where my Arabic/Middle Eastern studies might eventually land me a real job after I graduated. That seemed good enough and I certainly had enough taught me as a "cover" while I was going through basic. The summer passed very quickly and I learned a lot, especially in the "hands-on" sexual techniques class. I wasn't - quite - still a virgin by then but very, very close.

By summer's end I was MUCH more experienced - we watched and dissected a LOT of porn, e.g. It was like "sexual myth vs. reality" lessons applied to most people. The basic lesson was do NOT, ever, try porn style sex with any target initially. But occasionally one might encounter someone with a really different "kinky" personality type. Be careful and only gently approach the boundary markers with them for everything from BDSM to, well, BDSM at ever greater concentrations. Anal sex is just a form of BDSM, e.g. "Dirty" sex in any way, shape, or form - ditto. It makes sense if you think about it. Truly great sex always starts and pretty much ends with the mind. So - get in her mind (or even his mind for the few bi-sexuals also taking basic.)

There were about 20 of us rookies total. We were all special in our own ways - me for basically being short and just kind of plain and even dumb looking and easily blendable into most human populations AND for being such a good natural language learner. But the pretty/handsome bi-sexuals had the REAL potential as excellent "sharp-end" agent operators. None of them looked twice at me until that first hand-to-hand combat class when I threw the official instructor halfway across the room. Then my personal stock went way up. Guess it was that "dangerous - maybe bad boy" factor.

That's a tough life - depending basically ON sex to get things done, either as prostitute or gigolo - and I really didn't want that for myself - but a few of these folks really seemed to relish it. Of course, after a few weeks we all practiced with one another various techniques and "fantasies" or just role-playing. I did some threesomes with a couple of the bi-sexual women and even a bi-sexual man once who was careful NOT to cross my own boundaries there. Maybe at some point I might have to do that - samesex activity - but it would pretty much have to be life-and-death for me. Then I'd cross that bridge when I had to. I didn't need any damn practice, first! But I did successfully DP one of the girls with that guy. She wanted it "for training" and I guess I learned a little bit myself. One of our psychologist instructors had mentioned that DP activity was about as close to homosexual sex as two men could get, without ACTUALLY purposefully touching one another. I really tried not to think of it that way while doing it. I just thought of Fatima, actually.

That was actually real good practice. We were taught the "lover's stare" - that look of longing and desire often mistaken for "love" - which is to look in your paramour's eyes with your own pupil's dilated. This IS a natural normal human reaction to looking at exceptionally pleasing things and most humans past puberty subconsciously recognize it when it happens to them. Your lover looks like she/he has GREAT BIG EYES when you look right in them closely face-to-face. It's a combination of BEING that close but also noticeable pupil dilation. That blackness is inviting and almost hypnotic. It's a hard thing to fake but merely imagining your own "love interest" superimposed on the current "target" can help achieve the desired end. Get in her mind, in her pants, then in her secrets.

A few of us actually ended up "paired" for the last month. For me it was a girl named Jennifer and I'm pretty sure we were exclusive to one another the last 3 weeks. It wasn't "love" but it was definitely bonding and I think the powers that be let it happen because we would HAVE to learn to break such things off when it had to happen in real life - as basic training ending had to happen. We only ever knew each other's first names and we were cautioned to be discreet in discussing our personal lives - as at least one of the "students" was actually an instructor tasked with learning everything he could about our personal lives. That may or may not have been true, never heard anything else about it before or after I finally got back to Notre Dame one week before my sophomore year. But sex with Jennifer was really great as we practiced all kinds of subtle (and gross!) physical and mental techniques on one another.

Ah, Jennifer...it was with some pleasant remembrances of her that I finally just drifted off after enough alcohol to dull my current heartache in my new apartment "home".

My cellphone woke me at 7:00AM the next morning. Yes, I DID have a significant hangover headache.

Maybe it was Rachel begging me to come home? Not likely.

It was my "boss" Ron, "Need you to come in today by 9 - is that a problem for you?"

"No," I croaked. "I can make that OK but I'm not exactly 100% right now."

"It's not critical, just important. Make sure you're here. Bye."

That meant it wasn't some kind of immediate operation activity. Maybe just some planning or semi-critical intelligence received I needed to translate and try to decipher.

I groaned and dragged myself to the shower and fifteen minutes of alternating hot and cold water at least had me awake. Some scrambled eggs and bacon, OJ and milk, and LOTS of coffee plus 3 aspirin had me at least halfway functioning by the time I checked in at the front desk at 8:55.

Ron was already in his office sipping on his ubiquitous large stainless steel go-cup of coffee. He looked the part of government middle-manager drone to perfection. About 6 feet tall and thin with balding hair and wire-rimmed glasses.

I went in and plopped down.

He smirked and said, "you look pretty much like shit."

I just grunted.

"What the hell was all that show-off crapola at the game last night?"

I just looked at him.

"Alright. Never mind. We kind of know what's going on. You moved out and into one of our apartments last night. It's OK - you don't need our permission - but there are some concerns raised now and it's decision time."

"We?" I asked.

"Yes. Someone's on his way over to talk to you right now. I'm your handler as you know - but that's just administratively. I know very little about what you really do or even who you really are. I handle the cover shit and your initial travel itineraries and just stuff like that."

I was a tad surprised. "Really? I just kind of assumed you knew what was what..."

"I know enough to keep my mouth shut and enjoy my ridiculous unearned government salary. Yeah - sometimes I wish I knew more and was "more powerful" - but what the fuck, lot's of headaches and miseries often accompany "more power" - so screw it. I'm just your babysitter mostly and I will be leaving when your real manager shows up to have a chat with you today. "You've never met him and you won't even know his real name even after today. I don't think you are in trouble but I can guess there ARE some "concerns" based on your personal life. Maybe some other things. Hope it works out for you."

And we both pretty much sat in silence for the next 10 minutes.

An older gentleman showed up and nodded at Ron and said to me "let's get out of here."

He had a mustache and a real Western kind of drawl accent. He was dressed casually and pulled off the whole cowboy thing pretty authentically. He was just a little taller than me and a little bit overweight looking, but not obese.

We went all the way down to the garage basement level and climbed in his new looking Chevy Tahoe. I was pretty sure it had some nonstandard upgrades - it was really quiet inside and just seemed heavy/solid - maybe armor added.

"Just call me Rob, James. I am pleased to finally meet you. This may be the first and only time we meet, unfortunately. That will mostly depend on you now."

I didn't know what to say. Maybe my professional life was about to end along with my marriage.

"For someone who knows so many languages so well, you don't talk much, eh?" Rob grinned at me.

"Better to be thought a fool, than open one's mouth and remove all doubt..." and I grinned back at him, even though that hurt my head.

"Good enough. I may be the fool here but I'm going to let you in on some pretty big secrets, even though we might soon be parting company. You've earned it - the truth - I think."

"And the truth is you have been a rather surprising qualified marginal success for us, career wise. You were one of the youngest men ever recruited into any USA intelligence service. Most of us were sure you would flunk out your "basic training". Eleven of your classmates did flunk out that year - including most of those oh so sexy ones with such superficial potential. But most of them just couldn't keep their OWN mouths shut when having sex - and that control and ability was needed right from the get go. It's a "character" and a natural kind of wisdom born of personal privacy esteem feeling. Either learned humility or just a certain level of paranoia leads to the necessary end result. You had that character. More than almost anyone else and as a mere nineteen year old boy/man at that.

"Kudos for that and also your language talents and hard work ethic to perfect those talents. Your physical prowess was also a pleasant surprise but not all that important. We DO employ quite a few younger men as "muscle" for many needed tasks. Most of them already have proved themselves through merely traditional military type careers. We don't need you specifically for those roles. And yet your hidden and unexpected strength and martial arts skills could be key in defensive and escape type critical situations. And we both know that has already occurred in several situations you've already saved from disaster - especially some of our most key assets who should be dead or worse right now.

"But the reality also remains you are still a young man at age 29, and we have been developing you slowly for potentially more profitable endeavors. I and some key others have been watching you closely, both in your professional and personal life. And we all seem to be at a nexus point right now. Decision time. Continue or just part ways?

"I am sure you've sometimes wondered: 'why am I in such a "deep cover" life right now? Can't even tell my own wife what I really do?' Well, I'll tell you. You are basically a NOC - not officially covered - agent even here in the USA. I do work for the NSA myself, officially - but I am also part of a select group of individuals who feel very constrained and frustrated by certain political and bureaucratic hindrances. We can't effectively get the job done. And what is "the job"? Merely to serve and protect the people of this great nation from all enemies "foreign and domestic." About now you're probably getting chills and thinking I'm nuts and part of some conspiracy to bring down the whole United States government. You'd BETTER be thinking that or I've misjudged you pretty badly - but hear me all the way out. Please."

Well, he was right about this, at any rate. I was thinking along the lines of "Dr. Strangelove" and "Seven Days in May" and even "Manchurian Candidate", not to mention "right wing militias" and other anti-government extremist types...but I figured I should listen. If worst came to worst I was pretty sure I could snap his neck in the same time I could snap my fingers - and I figured he knew that as well.

"We don't really officially exist as part of the NSA, CIA, or FBI - but we've managed to carefully coexist and integrate with each of these entities as well. Just never at the bureaucratic and upper appointed management levels. It's more the peer-to-peer results oriented level.

"We also have certain rich sponsors in the private enterprise world. Some folks at Halliburton and Blackwater and enterprises like those. We can generally siphon quite enough money off out of our Black Ops funding, but occasionally some additional money might be necessary and we have emergency sponsor letters of credit always available.

"This is ALL voluntary. You and every agent we have are all voluntary. Anyone can quit at any time. The only single shared purpose is support of and continuation of the United States dream - embodied classical liberalism in a nation. We could pay you and everyone else more money - a LOT more money - but we purposefully don't. We don't want people in it for the money. Money is power. Power corrupts. These are all real Lucifer Principle basics you have been taught. And all our jobs entail a certain level of power and moral corruption anyway - like you having to lie to your own wife continually. But really for a higher cause - and higher than merely your own personal convenience or even safety.

"But we all MUST handle our own moral corruption issues the best we can using principles like Augustine's "Just Warfare" guidelines. It's not that "all morality is relative and therefore subjective" - it's that OBJECTIVE morality does indeed allow for judgment and judiciousness in acknowledging some things are worse, more evil, than others. That's what we all try to do - everyday and in every situation. Might doesn't make right - but might can sure support "right" as in Abe Lincoln's observation once in a very trying time: "I don't pray God is on my side. I pray that I am on God's side." We pray that we are on the right moral side, as well - supporting and preserving at least one country in the world where personal freedom actually still exists along with the very small list of true human rights "from our Creator": life, liberty, and pursuit of happiness including owning and enjoying the fruits of one's own labor.