My heart sank This wasnt good Usually an officer moved directly on to a second

My heart sank this wasnt good usually an officer

This preview shows page 51 - 56 out of 451 pages.

upon return from annual leave.” My heart sank. This wasn’t good. Usually an officer moved directly on to a second tour in the field if the first one had been successful, [Text has been redacted here.] and the Agency was not hiring enough new officers to fill the often boring but nonetheless critical support jobs at Headquarters. A new edict required first-tour officers to return to Washington at the completion of their assignments. This made for quite a bit of grumbling in the ranks; we had all joined the Agency anticipating spending the bulk of our careers overseas because not only was overseas work more
professionally challenging, it was also the fastest way to get promoted. The last thing I wanted to do was return to Headquarters, but I had few alternatives. I had not acquired a “godfather” as some of my male peers had done. There were few senior female operations officers to act as mentors and the male officers seemed naturally to gravitate toward the young-buck officers who reminded them of themselves at an earlier, hungrier stage. As I packed up to leave, my mind raced with plans. [Text has been redacted here.] I had enjoyed an easygoing camaraderie with my colleagues at the Station, but realized that as much as I valued their company, it wasn’t a prerequisite to my professional success or personal contentment. To my surprise, I realized that I had an entrepreneurial streak, and wanted to test it further. As I wrapped up breakable items in newspaper, I began to develop a plan [Text has been redacted here.]
CHAPTER 3 [Text has been redacted here.] When I checked back into Headquarters in Langley, Virginia [Text has been redacted here.], I reacquainted myself with the vast building and its endless, featureless white corridors. It had just been significantly enlarged with a modern new addition, and connected to the “old” Headquarters building by two long sunny hallways and a soaring atrium anchored at one end by an enormous American flag. Besides the faint glamour of the new building, Headquarters boasted a redesigned and spruced-up cafeteria, dry cleaning services, a small gym, and an enlarged gift shop where you could buy nearly anything from shot glasses to baseball caps emblazoned with the Agency seal—very popular with visitors. [Text has been redacted here.] [Text has been redacted here.] [Text has been redacted here.] [Text has been redacted here.] [Text has been redacted here.] [Text has been redacted here.] [Text has been redacted here.] Although my initial poly had not been painful, it is an experience that no one ever likes. This time, however, I approached the dreaded exam armed with a colleague’s advice: treat it like a Catholic confession. That is, tell the examiner absolutely everything, every excruciating detail that you think might have relevance to the question posed. At a minimum, you’ll bore the polygrapher to tears. I used this tactic, dredging up every possible
incident that might negatively affect my responses and it worked like a charm; I was in and out of the claustrophobic exam room in a record three hours.

  • Left Quote Icon

    Student Picture

  • Left Quote Icon

    Student Picture

  • Left Quote Icon

    Student Picture