Jennifer Bryan: Origin of an Agent
I’ll never forget my first day at CIA headquarters. There I was, sitting in a reception area, wearing the same pantsuit that I first wore six years ago to my senior prom.
“Bryan, Jennifer.” Gregory Mitchell said.
“Yes, present.” I responded as I followed him to his office.
“Good morning.” He opened. “Can I get you a cup of coffee?”
“No, no thank you.” I replied.
“Very well.” He said. “I took a look at your resume. Very impressive; graduated magna cum laude with a Master’s in International Relations from Emory University; fluent in Spanish; played Division 1 Women's Basketball all four years of undergrad; did two summer internships with the Senate, both of your supervisors giving you glowing remarks.”
“You definitely seem qualified.” He told me. “So tell me; what makes you wanna be a CIA economic analyst?”
"Above all else, sir, I want to make a difference." I answered. "I want to change the world, for the better."
"Very admirable." He remarked. “Now, let’s continue.”
After an hour long interview, he said “I’ll get back to you in a few days.”
“Thank you, sir.” I said as I left the room.
__________________
A few days later, I got the call. I was in my apartment, having Japanese takeout with my new girlfriend (and future wife), Olivia. And then, I felt my phone ringing.
“Excuse me honey, I have to take this.” I said as I put down my vegetarian sushi roll and picked up the phone.
“Jennifer Bryan, is this you?” Gregory Mitchell asked. Even though he didn’t address himself, I remembered his voice.
“Yes sir, this is Jennifer Bryan.” I answered.
“Congratulations, you’ve got the job.”
“Thank you, sir.” I said, trying my best to contain my joy. “When do I start?”
“I was getting right to that.” He continued. “Have you ever been to Europe before?”
“No sir.” I answered.
“Well, you will in two days.” He said. “That’s when you’re leaving for Greece.”
_________
I couldn’t believe it; just a few weeks prior, the farthest I’d ever been from my home was Vancouver, Canada. Now, I was on a plane headed for Athens.
My first job for the CIA was to spend two weeks as part of an advisory team to their government’s economic development commission. Greece’s economy has been, to put it mildly, destroyed by inflation and debt in recent years. I was part of a team sent there for a month-long project to advise their government on the most efficient uses of US aid money.
For the first four days, I was essentially just a glorified accountant. I was checking their books, logging every statement. It wasn’t glamorous, but hey, at least I knew I was making a real difference.
And then, I noticed something I wasn’t supposed to.
________
“Um, Mr. Mitchell.” I said over the phone. “I’ve found something very fishy.”
“What is it?” He asked.
“I double checked some of the aid money that’s supposed to be going to infrastructure projects.” I said. “The expenses seemed high. But to my shock, there’s no record of these payments ever going through. I even personally called all the contractor firms that the expenses reports say were paid for construction projects, and none of them said these deals even exist.”
“Thank you.” He said. “I’ll arrange a meeting with some of my contacts in the Greek government, make sure they know about this.”
I wasn’t quite satisfied with that. So instead of just letting him handle it on his own, I decided to pay a visit to the man who was apparently siphoning off US aid money for something else.
_____
Mr. Vlachos lived in a condo in downtown Athens. He didn’t answer when I knocked on the door, so I just allowed myself in with an improvised lockpick.
I could immediately tell he was up to no good. There were files on his desk in a language I couldn’t identify, but I knew wasn’t Greek. Google Translate told me they were in Turkish.
I grabbed as many of them as possible, before I heard the sound of the door opening.
“Shit.” I said to myself before finding somewhere to hide.
Mr. Vlachos came in while talking on the phone. I hid behind his kitchen island, and then, once he hung up the phone, I grabbed a kitchen knife and held it against his throat.
“Do you speak English?” I asked.
He didn’t say anything, but I said “I could tell just by the look on your face that you understood.”
“You’re not Greek, are you?” I asked.
He remained silent.
“Are you Turkish?” I asked.
Again, he said nothing.
“Fine, don’t wanna talk to me, we can talk to someone else.” I replied as I pulled out my phone.
“Mr. Mtchell, I have reason to believe that I’ve just found a spy for the Turkish government.” I explained. “I’m currently holding him in his…”
And then, Mr. Vlachos grabbed my arm, and pulled the knife away from his neck. And then, he threw me to the ground.
I dropped the knife when I fell, and he rushed to pick it up. He grabbed it and tried to stab me, but I rolled away and the knife got caught in the floor. I then kicked him in the nuts, stood up, and dashed for the door.
_____
I got away, and by the time I had even made it back to the CIA office, the first thing I heard was that Greek police officers were already on the scene. They even found my cell phone; Vlachos must have left it behind when he was fleeing.
First thing I did was call Gregory Mitchell said.
“Jennifer, are you okay?” he asked.
“Yes.” I answered.
“Good. Here’s what I want you to do.” He began. “First, I have an agent going to talk with you. Be ready to tell him everything that you saw and heard in his apartment. And then, pack your bags, you’re headed home.”
“What? But sir…”
“Sorry Jennifer, but I have agents trained to deal with these kinds of scenarios. There’s an Agent we have over in Italy who should be able to be there soon. His name is Justin Picone, and he’s more than qualified to undercover whatever the Hell is going on over here.” He explained. “You’re lucky to even be alive right now. If Mr. Vlachos finds you, he might finish the job next time.”
____
About six hours later, I met Special Agent Justin Picone.
“Good evening.” He told me. “How do you feel?”
“I feel fine.” I said.
“Good.” He replied. “Do you feel ready to talk to me about what happened?”
“Yes, I’ve been trying to talk about this all day.”
After telling him everything into a recording device, he said “Thank you very much. I have enough to begin my investigation.”
“Great.” I said. “Now, I have to get a bus to go back to my hotel, I have a plane to catch.”
“Why don’t I walk you to the bus stop.”
I normally would’ve said no, but after a day like that, I didn’t mind being walked to the bus stop.
____
That day was the first time I ever witnessed someone die.
As we were leaving the building, someone stepped out of an SUV parked on the curb. He drew a silenced handgun, and shot Justin directly in the face.
Instinct took over; I dashed back inside the building. But the assailant followed me in.
“Sir, are you…” the front desk lady asked, before she got shot.
There were five others in the office that day. I ran in and shouted “HIDE!”, and they all went to take cover.
The attacker came in, and began looking for me. But before he could find me, I was in position to knock him out with a fire extinguisher.
______
He woke up about an hour later, with what I assume was the worst headache of his life. It certainly didn’t help that he was duct taped to a chair.
“Want an aspirin?” I asked as I laid one out in my hand. Then, before he could even answer, I simply tossed it across the room.
“Do you speak English?” I asked.
When he didn’t answer, I punched him and said “Do you speak English?”
“So what if I do?” He asked.
“Look, it took a lot of convincing to get my colleagues not to call the police.” I said. “Only reason they didn’t is because I convinced them that it would be better if I had a word with you myself first.”
“Yeah, like I’m saying anything to a crazy bitch like you.”
“Oh really.” I said. “Listen asshole, I’m CIA. I know of some very, very off-the-books black sites where you can go to be forced to spill.”
I was, of course, completely bluffing. I knew of no such facilities back then. But he had no reason to know that.
“However, I think this could be left up to the Greek judicial system. But I’ll only do that if you let me know what’s going on here. So, what’s it gonna be; are you gonna be sent to a place that will make you talk after the worst pain of your life, are you going to a Greek prison?”
“I work for Turkey’s National Intelligence Organization.” He explained. “Turkey and Greece have been enemies for centuries. Our government has been taking advantage of how weak Greece has become. Stealing the aid money was the first part of our plan to make the Greek government collapse.”
“And what of you specifically?”
“Mr. Vlachos send me to kill you.”
“Where is Mr. Vlachos now?””
He didn’t answer.
“Again, you either answer my questions or you spend the rest of your life in a really dark CIA black site.”
“He’s on his way to a train station.” He said. “Unless he’s there already.”
“Thanks.” I said. “I’ll be back to hand you over to the police later, if your information turns out to be true.”
______
I stole his gun. My dad took me to the range as a kid, so I knew how to use it. I then ordered a taxi, and went straight to the train station.
I approached the station’s security office and said “Hi, sorry, does anyone here speak English?”, to which I got nothing but confused shrugs from the security guards.
I then pulled out my phone and opened the translator app. “I am CIA.” I said as I showed him my work ID. “I’m here for Mr. Vlachos, a very dangerous man. We cannot let him leave the country. Can you see if he’s here now?”
The guards opened their computer, and found him. He wrote “19” on a piece of paper, and I understood that he was referring to the train gate.
I ran down there, and found him sitting at a bench, drinking coffee. I drew my stolen gun and said “Mr. Vlachos, if that even is your real name, you are under arrest.”
He got up, and appeared to be surrendering. But then, he quickly drew a revolver and fired at me. I sidestepped out of the way, and fired a shot of my own. Mine hit him in the torso, and he then ran off, trying to escape into the crowd.
I chased after him, desperate to not lose him in the crowd. When I saw him trying to get to an emergency exit, I sprinted towards him and charged him.
“You’re not getting away.” I said as I started raining punches on his face. “Not after what you’ve done today. Your assassin killed two people today, if you think I’m letting you out of here you’d better keep…”
And then, security guards reached us. They pepper sprayed us, tased us, and detained us until Athens police arrived to take us to their station.
______
The Greek authorities had a hard time believing my story, but Gregory Mitchell got involved and they appeared to trust me. I was then put on the first plane back to Washington DC, to have a conversation with Mr. Mitchell.
“Hello, sir.” I said as I entered his office.
“Glad to know you’re okay.” He told me. “What you did yesterday was many things. It was definitely reckless. But it was also brave, smart, and surprisingly well executed for someone who’s never had real training. The man you arrested in Greece was Emre Yilmaz, a Turkish spy we’ve been trying to track down for years now.”
“I think your talents are wasted as an economic analyst.” He continued.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“I mean that I want to recommend you for a different program.” He answered. "One that trains agents to both be office workers when we need agents, and field operatives for when we need agents who can be involved in dangerous situations."
“I will warn you, it’s not gonna be easy.” He explained. “You’ll spend the next six months at a Depart of Defense training camp in Florida. You’ll be rigorously trained in marksmanship, hand to hand combat, survival skills, on top of being taught at least two foreign languages. It is a very rigorous course that few students graduate, so no harm if you need some time to decide.”
“No need.” I said. “Sign me up right now.”
“You know, I think this is the start of a potentially prosperous career in the CIA.” He remarked.
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