“Hello Mr Kreap; I’m glad you were able to join us. I hope you don’t mind but I’ve asked Mr Harp, our director of HR and Mr Freeze, our ethics and compliance officer to be here.”

Jebedia Kreap had been an agent of the Ministry of Secret Affairs for close to a decade now. He had a short career as a police officer before his talents were recognised in a different field. He was quickly trained in espionage and intelligence gathering and was deployed within a year of his recruitment. What followed was a long string of successful missions. He could boast that they were all successful because if they hadn’t been, then more than likely, he’d be dead. He had only returned from his last mission the day before, and he couldn’t forgive the fact that these HR bureaucrats had decided that today was the day he needed to attend whatever pointless corporate policy or training they had suddenly mandated. He typically had a great poker face. He needed it for the nature of his work, but today, he made sure his annoyance was visible on his face. He nodded his head to the HR employee.

“Excellent Mr Kreap, you are a hard man to get a hold of; we’ve been trying to schedule this meeting for months now.” Kreap had been actively avoiding the meeting. “Best to use the time together wisely, then.” He thought that was a good response. He was showing his disdain for this meeting and these people.

“Well, Mr Kreap, it’s unfortunate but this meeting is actually to discuss your performance in the field.”

Well, that was unusual, I guess the HR department was starting to get too big for its boots. Kreap welcomed performance discussions from his Active Operations Director, a man who’d been in the field himself for more than 20 years, but honestly, what could these office types tell him about performance? He continued to frown quietly. Perhaps if he didn’t respond they’d appreciate the utter contempt he held them within. 

“I wonder how recently you reminded yourself about the code of ethics that all field agents are required to follow.” The HR woman was beginning to grind on his nerves. She was a dumpy sort of woman with a face more suited to farm work in his opinion. Harp and Freeze, on the other hand, were almost exactly what you’d think career corporate employees would look like. Both dressed in suits, one navy, one black, white shirts, sombre ties, department store cuff links. One was moustached and seemingly eager to come forward with a smile, his face had the evidence of a smiler. The other was clean-shaven with a balding disposition and glasses. At first glance, Kreap had immediately dismissed both of them as being unimportant. None of these people would last a day in the field.

“I am familiar with the code of ethics” he answered rather haughtily. He was also familiar that none of the field agents could take it seriously if they wanted to deliver their missions successfully. One of the first things he was told after his training was that fieldwork was not like anything else. Anything could be justified when survival was often on the line. 

“Mr Kreap, the tone and attitude you appear to be taking might be better served somewhere else. We are about to discuss some quite serious transgressions, and I think it would be better for you to be less hostile.” 

Well, well, there appeared to be some steel to this one. Maybe he was wrong to think she was a dumpy mother-looking sort. “I have no doubt that what we will discuss is essential for field work.” He said it in the kind of way where he clearly meant the exact opposite. 

The HR lady bit down on her tongue to avoid angrily retorting. Kreap had managed to annoy far more competent people than her when the mood took him. Let her get rattled; it would be funny to see her realise how limited the powers of anyone in this room were. After all, you could recruit a countless number of HR employees. Field agents, on the other hand, were a little harder to come by. 

“Mr Kreap,” she began after a breath. He interrupted her. “Miss…HR? I’m sorry, I don’t know what your name is, but please hurry with whatever this is about. I only returned from a quite trying mission last night. I am tired, I have been in a highly tense situation for the last few weeks and I really don’t have the patience for whatever this is about. If this is some sort of training, I promise to review it later when I’m recovered, if I’m mandated to refresh my knowledge of the code of ethics after a certain period of time, I will happily do that. But please do me the courtesy of recognising that the nature of my work means that I can’t comply with the same clockwork-like protocols as the office staff.” This short speech was delivered with an equal amount of sympathy and fatigue. It’s odd that such senior members of staff would attend whatever this HR meeting was, though; perhaps they did this to all field agents. 

“I see. You think this is some sort of HR requirement.”

He eyed her cautiously. Surely he hadn’t misread the situation. The field agents were far too important to be put under any pressure from the corporate suits. 

“Mr Kreap, you have violated about 17 different code artefacts. This meeting was about hearing what you had to say before we dealt with the matter.” His frown deepened, although he was still far from being flustered, he thought he’d cut this short. “Have you spoken to the director about this yet?”

“The director was the one who requested this investigation.”

“Investigation?” he was a little startled. “What exactly am I being investigated for? Surely you can’t hold me to account for my actions under fire?” he decided to add more haughtiness “I don’t expect you to understand the demands of the field from this comfortable office. I’m sure the director would be more than willing to explain the demands of field agents and the risks we take.”

“Sure, no doubt the director would explain to us justifications for most of your work, but let’s start with some minor indiscretions, and we can tackle the more serious things later. You mentioned the risks in the field.” She paused and turned to a page in her file. “Do those risks involve using the corporate account to purchase alcohol and cigars?”

He sniffed in derision. “Charming the enemy is a fantastic way of yielding sensitive information.”

“No doubt, Mr Kreap, in a face-to-face encounter, despite the code of ethics explicitly stating that an agent should remain clear-headed at all times and the purchase of alcohol is expressly forbidden, there may be reason to ply the enemy, as you call it, with intoxicants to loosen the lips, as they say. But these items appear to be delivered to your hotel room, and my knowledge of these things is limited, but they do appear to be rather expensive.”

Kreap remained silent, his mind chewing through an answer that wouldn’t embarrass him. 

“No answer, Mr Kreap? Well, there are plenty of these instances; some indeed are at restaurants and hotels, presumably to, as you say, charm the enemy. Interesting that such is your field skill that you made these purchases in locations where none of the intel you received said you would find your targets.”

“Intel is only a guide; sometimes you have to go beyond,” he said, now with a bit of trepidation. 

“Hmm.” she flipped over to the next page in her notes. “Is that what you were doing when you spent several thousand credits purchasing” She looked down at the paper for dramatic effect “Exotic female performances?” 

Kreaps’ face went a slight shade of pink, and he was now a little embarrassed. He quickly recovered his confidence. “One of the girls held sensitive information, I was able to extract that information from her. You will find my results speak for themselves.”

“Yes, your results. I assume that’s why you followed her after she finished her shift, presumably to ply her for information, but then when she rejected your enquiries to gain intelligence you subsequently offered to pay her for….intel?”

“How…what?” Kreap was now obviously flustered. 

“The girl filed out a police report. The only reason you weren’t arrested is because your director asked your field handler to run interference with the authorities. Anything to say, Mr Kreap?”

Again, Kreap remained quiet, this time more so as not to incriminate himself. The HR lady made a point of flipping through several pages of her notes. “It seems you’ve made a special point of pursuing women in particular to acquire intelligence. It’s funny though, in your case files, they are rarely mentioned, and when they are, it’s usually because they’re the wife of a target or employee that yields very little useful information. An ignorant observer might think you were pursuing them for your own twisted pleasure.”

“Well…nothing of the sort…intelligence…mission critical, fieldwork….you know?” Kreap didn’t know what to say. Blast these bureaucrats. Fieldwork was high-stress, and he had to play the role he needed his targets to believe. His targets were usually wealthy megalomaniacs with designs on lethal mass destruction. He only wished to undermine them through their weak spots. It wasn’t his fault if their female associates were an easy target.

“Indeed Mr Kreap.” Mr Freeze began. “These are serious allegations.” The sombre tone he spoke with wasn’t the tone that Kreap would have assumed this career office worker would take. 

The HR employee flipped over another paper. “Perhaps we should move into deeper waters. Let’s talk about your lethality record.” Kreap relaxed now. All field agents of his level had been instructed by the director that they could do whatever was needed to ensure their own safety. The HR lady continued, “People seem to die quite frequently on your missions Mr Kreap.”

“These are dangerous missions”, he responded gruffly, but without his previous haughtiness. “It’s often kill or be killed in many cases.”

“Yes, so it seems. However, your colleague field agents don’t have nearly the same lethality record. Indeed, it seems that of all the 57 deaths that have occurred on missions in the last 2 years, 55 happened during your own missions.”

“I’m one of the highest-ranked agents”, he declared “That means I get put on the most dangerous missions. Don’t try to use skewed statistics against me.”

“Actually, according to the director, the intelligence yielded by other agents is usually just as valuable. Apparently, the use of lethal force means that avenues that could lead to more intelligence are neutralised. It seems rather than use lethal force or even field torture,” she paused here to let that sink in, “your colleagues have regularly brought in targets for interrogation back at base, whilst you seem to consider it a failed mission if a shootout hasn’t occurred.”

He harumphed his disgust. He wondered whether he could call the director and ask him to intervene on his behalf, and end this torture quickly. These fools didn’t know anything about field craft. 

“Mr Kreap, there are a whole host of other reports against you, including negligent budget abuse when you bullied our tech teams into purchasing fancy toys for you to use on your mission. There was even one report when you asked them to contact a luxury car manufacturer and request that they fit it with “big guns” I believe. Do you deny any of these allegations, Mr Kreap? Can you at least try to explain them?”

Kreap was now indignant. Why should HE, a field agent, be held to account by these useless suits? “I think I want the director on the phone. This is a waste of our time. I do what’s needed. If that’s not good enough, then I’ll gladly resign. But you should know that this agency would lose one of its most important assets.”

At this, the three other people in the room chuckled incredulously. Mr Harp then said, “Mr Kreap.” He was even more sombre in his demeanour than Freeze. “You clearly haven’t read the code of ethics even once. If you had, you’d know that field agents don’t just resign in circumstances such as these. That’s far too embarrassing.”

Well, that was reassuring, but Kreap would rather die than be moved to a desk job. 

Freeze spoke quietly, “Usually, we dispose of them unless they demonstrate to us in this interview that they’re worth keeping.”

Kreap didn’t appear to comprehend this last statement. He still had a look of indignation on his face.

“What do you think?” Freeze asked his colleagues. “I believe the man hasn’t really justified any of his actions.” 

Mr Harp and the HR lady didn’t miss a beat and nodded in agreement. Mr Harp removed his phone from the inside pocket of his suit and clicked a few buttons before putting the phone against his ear. “Ah, Mr. Director. Thanks for taking my call; I know you’re busy.” he paused to allow a response. Kreap felt comforted; the director knew his value. “Yes, well, we’ve just finished, actually”, Harp continued. “Unfortunately, it was as you suspected. Nothing redeeming at all, it seems.” He paused again. “Yes, we will clean up; as you say, no one can hear about this. Reputational damage would be incredible. Alright, speak to you soon.”

The HR lady then started rummaging through her bag on the floor next to her chair. She evidently found what she was looking for and looked up at Kreap “Are you aware, Mr Kreap, that the whole HR department is required to be ex-field agents? Amongst other things, it allows us to do our jobs with more insight.”

Kreap was not aware of this and wondered where this was leading. She continued, “The other thing it means, Mr Kreap, is that we all have approved lethality status.” Kreap became uneasy. She raised her hand, pointing the small pistol she had just removed from her bag at Kreap. “Goodbye, Mr Kreap, the agency can no longer suffer your incompetence.”

Kreap had a moment to realise that maybe he’d been reading this room wrong from the start but his stubborn mind still couldn’t compute the reality of what was happening before a loud bang preceded to end his participation in the interview.

“It’s almost as if he thought he was acting in a movie”, stated Mr Freeze.