Part 4: The Spies Who Hated Me

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The life of spies is to know, not to be known.

~ George Herbert

The post-retirement search for purpose continued. Going back into the frenetic field of finance was off the table. That eliminated a big chunk of possibilities. Which begged the question: what else am I qualified to do?

I contemplated my inventory of useful skills. I’m a decent guitarist. But playing Whitesnake covers until two in the morning with a bunch of old guys (like me) didn’t seem very appealing.

I had trained in a disparate assemblage of martial arts disciplines over the years. Though probably not enough in any one thing to qualify as an instructor — something I didn’t have much interest in doing, anyway. And even with over a decade of training, including five years competing as an amateur submission fighter, surely the UFC wouldn’t be knocking on my door, offering a contract. There wasn’t much demand for out of shape, fifty-year-old cage fighters.

So, I wondered if I could use my accounting and finance skills in a different forum, perhaps to do some good. Forensic accounting, a highly specialized subset of the field, is used to investigate financial records for signs of malfeasance. Working alongside law enforcement — calculator in one hand, pencil in the other — to bring down corporate fraudsters seemed cool. I even came up with a tagline after catching a crook: “Looks like your bottom line just went from black to red.” That's still being workshopped. I’ll be pitching the series soon to some lucky streaming channel.

The problem was I had absolutely no experience in this area. But, hey, why should that stop me? Over the next couple of months, I completed several online courses, making me qualified for nothing, but I forged ahead, nevertheless. Now, I could have dipped my toe into this channel, but such was not my style. So, I applied to the FBI. And heard nothing but crickets.

Undismayed by Quantico’s lack of interest, I doubled down. Scanning the government’s website for jobs, one organization caught my eye. The Central Intelligence Agency. That was it, I thought, I’ll be a spy.

As I perused the job openings, I found quite an array. There were listings for technologists, language experts and roles within their support services group. Within the support area, they were looking for finance and budgeting professionals – definitely falling within my experience zip code. Yawn…I wasn’t interested. They were also looking for new members in their Special Activities Division (i.e., paramilitary operations). Despite living in a fantasyland, I wasn’t delusional enough to think I could qualify for that.

The Directorate of Analysis group did some interesting stuff. This team analyzes intelligence, foreign policy, and military threats. Think Jack Ryan, without the gun battles and car chases. Some of these roles required expertise in languages or a deep knowledge of global history and geopolitics.

I spoke English and a few phrases in Spanish. And outside of North America, I’d only been to Europe a few times; so, not exactly a world traveler. I didn’t have the work experience nor the requisite educational foundation for any of those roles. The description for the economic analyst job was the only one that came remotely close to matching my background. So, I bookmarked it and moved on.

Next up, I scanned through the postings within the Directorate of Operations, the heart and soul of the CIA, their fabled clandestine branch. There were listings for Case Officers, who engage in covert ops, collecting intelligence and recruiting spies. And there were Targeting Officers, who gather and assess intelligence reports and identify possible spy candidates.

Now, this might be a good place to pause while I provide a couple of clarifying pieces of information about my work history and education. I’m a certified public accountant with a master’s in business administration. After spending a couple of years at one of the “Big Eight” accounting firms as an auditor, I switched lanes and worked for the rest of my career in the accounting and finance departments of several Financial Institutions and Investment Management Companies.

Given all that, I somehow concluded I'd be well-suited as either a Case or Targeting Officer in the CIA’s Clandestine Operations. The Economics Analyst position was my fallback job, naturally.

The requirements for these roles included the following: a bachelor’s degree with greater than a 3.0 GPA (check!), a commitment to the mission (sure), a clean background (yes, other than this little incident at the Monsters of Rock festival in ’89), strong communication and interpersonal skills (on some days), foreign travel and experience (as mentioned, a few vacations to Europe …so check), willingness to relocate (that depends – Cabo would be nice), foreign language proficiency (yeah…no), military experience (not a bit). A certain read of these could lead to the conclusion this wasn’t too outlandish of a notion. A certain read.

I spent hours filling out the applications. Despite writing what I believed was a really compelling essay about why I should be a CIA agent, to the surprise of no one except myself, I never heard back. Perhaps my application was distributed throughout the hallowed halls of Langley for a few laughs. If nothing else, maybe my application provided a little comic relief for the hardworking professionals there, thereby meeting my public service goal.

***

With that out of the way, I was back at the drawing board. Although I would never know the life of a spy, I was getting closer to better knowing myself, albeit in small measures. However, my next attempted endeavor was a big leap forward in the right direction.