Training Day: Tripoli
Sep. 18th, 2019 11:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
xp_changeling posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
xp_logsBACKDATED
Gabe hits the next port of their journey.
"Did you know that Tripoli was originally called Oea? Named by the Phoenicians, who eventually ended at Carthage. You might not. My high school focused on the classics." He said as the front desk worker sought out their keys.
"Well, sure. Back then they would have been current events." Gabriel flipped his sunglasses off and slipped them into his shirt pocket. "To be fair, I don't think I could have found Tripoli on a map before this week."
"I'd weep for the youth, but they teach coding to six-year-olds and I barely know what that is." Kevin pointed to a boat coming into the port. "That is one of the main ferries from Italy, and also a massive smuggling conduit. Our contact is the Executive Officer... which is a fancy way of saying second in command of a crew of nine. He'll provide a manifest of each trip of the contraband. We keep an eye out who orders what and what comes in."
"Got it,” Gabriel nodded. He turned, leaking against the desk to watch the boat pass, the corners of his mouth turning down slightly. “Here’s a question I don’t ask too often: why?”
"Because intelligence is about an interconnected world. Do we care if a couple of cases of RPGs comes through the port? Or a crate of heroin? No. What we care about is who it is going to and what it might mean. It could mean a militia that we know likes to look for mutant soldiers is spinning up for an operation. Or that a crime syndicate which has fingers in mutant trafficking is expanding their operations. It's these little pieces that fill in the bigger picture in which we operate."
"And information is currency and all that." Gabriel wanted to grab his Juul but just couldn't be sure about the rules of vaping in Libyan hotels. "Well, at least you're consistent. I appreciate that." The desk worker handed over their keys, and Gabriel turned to grab them, offering a nod in thanks and appreciation.
"That's why we have these networks. Being a case officer is about getting all of this intel, sorting through it to see what's valuable and seeing how it connects to the intel other networks bring in. Which means all the hours you're going to spend in the field in nice weather making dead drops and collecting this is going to be outweighed by sitting at your desk and working with others to see how your contributions fit." He caught a look at the other man's face and shook his head. "Relax, you're still a long way from a desk job, Gabe. We're too small not to have you in the field mostly, but this is the other side of the coin that you're going to need to learn."
"Eventually. Far, far, far in the future." Gabriel looked to Kevin for confirmation. "We both know I get distracted too easily for a desk."
"We'll see. I wasn't happy either when my field work hours started to decline either. But... after awhile I learned that no matter how good you are in the field, the important discoveries and decisions almost never happen there."
"Not sure I'm a 30,000-foot view person, frankly." Gabriel shrugged. "But you are, and that's the point here. Tripoli, big smuggling port, executive crew guy, contraband monitoring." He nodded. "Got it."
"Maybe not, but I think you're selling yourself short. Now, a little tradecraft." He said as he led Gabe up to the room. Kevin had been insistent on booking from a specific set of rooms, and as they walked in, Gabe could see it overlooked the seaway to the docks. "If our guy is able to meet, there will be a red handkerchief tied around the first aid kit handle on the second starboard lifeboat." He tossed a pair of folding binoculars to Gabe.
Gabe caught them. "An actual hanky code? You're kidding right?" He flipped them up to his face. Super-speed didn't help Gabriel's binocular skills, but he tried to scan the boat, racking his brain for which side was starboard. "I can't remember what red was for, but I feel like it was something really dirty."
"Versions of the hanky code go all the way back to ancient China, kid." Kevin admitted that he was enjoying himself. One of the hardest things to teach newer agents was that the simplest, oldest methods were still often the best. And some of those methods had made their way into underground cultures for the same reasons that spies still used them. "Is our contact available?"
“Fisting!” Gabriel said triumphantly after a second. “Pretty sure, anyway.” He counted lifeboats, panning to the second. “Yep. Our guy is there.” He lowered the lenses, looking at Kevin with an eyebrow raised. “A handkerchief on a first aid kit. Conspicuous but too small for anyone to really think anything of?”
"Exactly. The position of the shades in apartment windows or a plant moved to a different side of a mantle. All can be codes. Hell, often, we use codes and then false flags, deliberately making small changes for no reason to try and confuse any watchers if we're worried someone is under surveillance." Kevin said, looking for his sunglasses from his luggage. "Time to get down to the pier and mingle with some sailors to provide cover for our contact."
"Sailors, eh?" Gabriel dropped the binoculars on Kevin's bed. "And they call this work."
Gabe hits the next port of their journey.
"Did you know that Tripoli was originally called Oea? Named by the Phoenicians, who eventually ended at Carthage. You might not. My high school focused on the classics." He said as the front desk worker sought out their keys.
"Well, sure. Back then they would have been current events." Gabriel flipped his sunglasses off and slipped them into his shirt pocket. "To be fair, I don't think I could have found Tripoli on a map before this week."
"I'd weep for the youth, but they teach coding to six-year-olds and I barely know what that is." Kevin pointed to a boat coming into the port. "That is one of the main ferries from Italy, and also a massive smuggling conduit. Our contact is the Executive Officer... which is a fancy way of saying second in command of a crew of nine. He'll provide a manifest of each trip of the contraband. We keep an eye out who orders what and what comes in."
"Got it,” Gabriel nodded. He turned, leaking against the desk to watch the boat pass, the corners of his mouth turning down slightly. “Here’s a question I don’t ask too often: why?”
"Because intelligence is about an interconnected world. Do we care if a couple of cases of RPGs comes through the port? Or a crate of heroin? No. What we care about is who it is going to and what it might mean. It could mean a militia that we know likes to look for mutant soldiers is spinning up for an operation. Or that a crime syndicate which has fingers in mutant trafficking is expanding their operations. It's these little pieces that fill in the bigger picture in which we operate."
"And information is currency and all that." Gabriel wanted to grab his Juul but just couldn't be sure about the rules of vaping in Libyan hotels. "Well, at least you're consistent. I appreciate that." The desk worker handed over their keys, and Gabriel turned to grab them, offering a nod in thanks and appreciation.
"That's why we have these networks. Being a case officer is about getting all of this intel, sorting through it to see what's valuable and seeing how it connects to the intel other networks bring in. Which means all the hours you're going to spend in the field in nice weather making dead drops and collecting this is going to be outweighed by sitting at your desk and working with others to see how your contributions fit." He caught a look at the other man's face and shook his head. "Relax, you're still a long way from a desk job, Gabe. We're too small not to have you in the field mostly, but this is the other side of the coin that you're going to need to learn."
"Eventually. Far, far, far in the future." Gabriel looked to Kevin for confirmation. "We both know I get distracted too easily for a desk."
"We'll see. I wasn't happy either when my field work hours started to decline either. But... after awhile I learned that no matter how good you are in the field, the important discoveries and decisions almost never happen there."
"Not sure I'm a 30,000-foot view person, frankly." Gabriel shrugged. "But you are, and that's the point here. Tripoli, big smuggling port, executive crew guy, contraband monitoring." He nodded. "Got it."
"Maybe not, but I think you're selling yourself short. Now, a little tradecraft." He said as he led Gabe up to the room. Kevin had been insistent on booking from a specific set of rooms, and as they walked in, Gabe could see it overlooked the seaway to the docks. "If our guy is able to meet, there will be a red handkerchief tied around the first aid kit handle on the second starboard lifeboat." He tossed a pair of folding binoculars to Gabe.
Gabe caught them. "An actual hanky code? You're kidding right?" He flipped them up to his face. Super-speed didn't help Gabriel's binocular skills, but he tried to scan the boat, racking his brain for which side was starboard. "I can't remember what red was for, but I feel like it was something really dirty."
"Versions of the hanky code go all the way back to ancient China, kid." Kevin admitted that he was enjoying himself. One of the hardest things to teach newer agents was that the simplest, oldest methods were still often the best. And some of those methods had made their way into underground cultures for the same reasons that spies still used them. "Is our contact available?"
“Fisting!” Gabriel said triumphantly after a second. “Pretty sure, anyway.” He counted lifeboats, panning to the second. “Yep. Our guy is there.” He lowered the lenses, looking at Kevin with an eyebrow raised. “A handkerchief on a first aid kit. Conspicuous but too small for anyone to really think anything of?”
"Exactly. The position of the shades in apartment windows or a plant moved to a different side of a mantle. All can be codes. Hell, often, we use codes and then false flags, deliberately making small changes for no reason to try and confuse any watchers if we're worried someone is under surveillance." Kevin said, looking for his sunglasses from his luggage. "Time to get down to the pier and mingle with some sailors to provide cover for our contact."
"Sailors, eh?" Gabriel dropped the binoculars on Kevin's bed. "And they call this work."
