“And now to determine the success of covert operations?” concluded Planner.
“Indeed. We could call it a Covert-agent Relationship Management system. After all, they are high value and we want them loyal. We can measure whether our marketing campaign has worked. Rather, whether our indoctrination has worked; you can thank Edward Bernays for the overlap between marketing and propaganda69.” She laughed to herself again before continuing. “So we can start with a standard CRM product; enact a generic or even specific management plan; specific to individuals. We do actually called them treatment plans,” she said and paused to look for a reaction from Planner.
“How does it work?” continued Jenny rhetorically since Planner was silent and merely twirling his pen, “Say we have a journalist that, for example, is challenging the official story of the Event… First he is guided by a generic treatment plan, a series of gentle reminders pointing out the error of his ways perhaps, how it goes against advertising sponsors, editorial guidelines and so on which escalates upwards.” She wrote “Reporter” on the whiteboard and a zigzag to represent a staircase. She continued, “So for journalists, if soft measures like the authority of their bosses doesn’t work, then the subject goes onto hard-measures: maybe a career change…” She then drew two further zigzag staircases and underneath wrote “Spy” and “Politic”. “There is an escalation process, for each profession.” For the staircase marked “Politic” she removed some of the steps. She said with conviction, “We find simple bribery works best for politicians, but other people are less predictable, so we escalate up the steps, with job loss, marriage, health… and so on, until we achieve the desired outcome.”
“Up to the maximum… sanction,” asked Planner carefully.
“There’s a risk assessment process. The greater the risk, the more persuasion will be applied. But, yes, up to the maximum sanction. The good news being if the participant changes his, or her, ways, they’ll immediately be rewarded. This works like a pavlovian reaction, 99 % of the time…”
“I thought it only worked for dogs,” sighed Planner. “Ah well, we live and learn. And the one percent?”
Jenny looked at Planner directly. “Actually it is much, much less than one percent. But yes, the exceptions…” she grimaced and acted out a chop across the neck.
* * * *
Planner returned to the Rainbow office and went to Bates’ cubicle in the open plan section of the office.
“How did that go?” asked Bates, looking up from his laptop.
“Disconcerting,” replied Planner.
“Why’s that?”
“More cancer to fight cancer,” said Planner.
They hushed as workmen walked past, carrying a ladder and tools.
“We should talk over lunch,” said Bates. “We have Operation Hollywood to visit and then the rest of the afternoon with Las Vegas team.”
Chapter Eight: Hollywood
In the Hollywood office Planner and Bates shook hands with a spiky blonde haired thirty-something man wearing large glasses. On the wall was a large poster for the “Pearl Harbor” movie.
“Hi, I’m Planner.”
“Bates.”
“I’m Nigel. Hi. Thanks. Do sit down,” said Nigel nicely in a British accent.
“Hopefully we won’t take up too much of your time,” said Planner.
“Thanks. All the noise in the office stops us from recording master tapes so we are just rehearsing at the moment. I really am a scriptwriter. Just finished on Pearl Harbour… Ben Affleck…” said Nigel, pointing to the poster.
“Right. Good for you,” said Planner slightly dismissively. “Can you take me back to the original objectives of this mission?”
“Well,” smiled Nigel. “In general, the team here work with some of the best writers in Hollywood to provide narrative and context to the agency’s staged events.”
Planner raised his eyebrows.
“So like TV news reports?” asked Bates.
“No, they can be stilted or ad-libbed. No, our services are used for naturalistic dialogue, such as the demands and threats from the hijackers.”
“Everyone sit down. We are returning back to the airport,” suggested Bates, in a parody of a Middle-eastern accent.
“Yes, just like that,” said Nigel with a fake smile.
“So where are you with your work?” asked Planner.
“Our task expanded a couple of months ago. I presume you know about the problems with the fourth target? The Capitol Building? There were problems with that,” Nigel signalled upwards, “from above.”
“Oh?” Planner said returning the fake smile.
“Yes. We’re the replacement operation for the forth target.”
Bates narrowed his eyes.
“Yeah…” Nigel realised he was not receiving good vibrations from his visitors. He perked up hoping to improve rapport. “A big mix up, I understand. I was at this screening when a good friend of mine…”
Planner interrupted smoothly, “Can you tell us why there were problems?”
Nigel maintained his broad fake smile, “Problems with the fourth target? Three reasons really. There was an expectation that the fourth target was going to be the Capitol Building. Apparently the-powers-that-be wanted to pass a bill after the Big Event? While the President could have passed the bill as an edict, it was felt there could be push-back. It could be seen as all dictatorial,” said Nigel with air-quotes. “You know, so best let congress and the senate do it. It would seem normal that way.”
“And the other reasons?” said Planner.
“The generals,” said Nigel with a salute. “The air force generals… didn’t like Washington being seen as undefended against two civilian aircraft. Even one makes them look pretty bad.”
“Hmm. Right. Third reason?”
“Technical. The capitol building is quite a small target, you need to weave around the Washington monument and so on, so they needed to fix extra radar…”
Planner interrupted, “Yes, I know about this. You need high fidelity radar coverage and military mode GPS to reliably hit the target. It’s not so easy in Washington to accommodate the extra kit.”
“Is that what you did in New York?” Bates asked Planner as an aside.
“Yes. The technical stuff is my forte,” said Planner.
“It’s not mine,” volunteered Nigel with a laugh. “So as I was saying, I was brought in a few months ago to bring out a… narrative. The seeds of hope to rise from the despair…”
“Is this one of the psychologist’s ideas?” said Bates sardonically.
Nigel points to himself, “Er, no. It was mine actually. I was thinking: how would the Big Event be made into a movie? We needed drama. So while I was attending the rushes of the Pearl Harbour movie… I was thinking: how do I make a movie from this? What thread would I take? And obviously the strongest dramatic theme is the hijacking… and what would happen if, on one of aircraft, the last one,” Nigel made some fists, “the passengers fight back!”
“Sounds a bit fanciful. I understand the Air Force wanted to take credit for stopping the fourth plane,” Planner said.
Bates turned to Planner in surprise. “Where did you hear that?”
“That’s unofficial,” smiled Planner. Focusing back to Nigel, “So, the plane crashes en route to Washington. Is there anything else I need to know?”
“There’s a lot of plot details,” Nigel said but his voice trailed off realising that he was not impressing either Planner or Bates.
“So is this team of Hollywood writers all indoctrinated?” asked Planner.
“No,” said Nigel carefully. “No, they basically act as a think tank and we just take some of their ideas away. But they do benefit. They often go off and write something akin to the agency’s own plot scenario which often makes it to the screen70. There is quite a bit of quid-pro-quo.”
“You have the passenger details?” asked Bates.