Chapter 3: Thrown to the Wolves

Despite temptations, I had worked very hard to suppress any sexual feelings while in prison. It had been easier when I learned of Elise's rapid exit. She soured me on the female of the species. I managed to neuter myself mentally for most of my term. Now ... I could allow myself the luxury of those emotions once again. Natasha was the first opportunity. I was handling myself clumsily, I knew. I had to go back in time to remember my long-lost skills.

I joined the Army just after turning eighteen. I had no plans for college even though I qualified with my marks. I wanted some adventure, and I wanted to get away from the restrictions of home. The Army, my father's training ground in engineering, was my first choice. I easily passed the physical, and went for my interview.

"You really should consider officer training, Colin," Lt. Czmanski advised. "You've got the grades and the potential. You're in good physical condition, and I think you'd do well at Basic Officer Training. There are more than a dozen schools for specialization. I wish you'd give it some thought."

"Yes, sir. I was hoping there would be room for me in engineering."

"I think we can find a space for you, assuming you get through basic, and your aptitude tests show you have the necessary capabilities." The lieutenant wore a smile, probably thinking he had convinced me.

I had no way of knowing how difficult a path I had chosen, but with the ignorance and enthusiasm of youth, and my determination to follow my father's footsteps, I set out to make a career of the army.

It didn't work out quite the way I had expected. I wanted to go to engineering school, but according to the aptitude test, I was more suited for other fields. Among the other fields they suggested was one that nearly floored me: intelligence.

They said I had very good logic and problem solving skills, and this made me a potential candidate. My ability to concentrate, keep my cool under pressure, and sustain myself alone in the field, were additional important factors.

I had a strange idea of just what Military Intelligence was all about, notwithstanding the usual jokes about it being the original oxymoron. A conversation with two senior officers convinced me that it would both interesting and valuable.

I was to become an analyst, learning to assess situations on the information available, and to propose possible responses and solutions to field situations. What was critical was determining that the information we passed along was as accurate as humanly possible. Field commanders in places like Rwanda and Bosnia-Herzegovina were desperately dependent on that accuracy.

Despite some misgivings about my qualifications, I signed up. Less than a year later, having passed through basic training, I was fully immersed in learning to become an analyst. Thanks to some stern lectures from my C.O., I took my responsibilities very seriously. I didn't smile a lot, and I didn't often drink. It earned me the nickname "Rocky." My one weakness was to chase women. On the other hand, I moved up through the ranks as an acknowledgement of my progress and my attitude toward my job.

I left the army at age twenty-four after seven years. Rising quickly to the rank of Captain, I had been trained and schooled and trained some more, but my duties were horribly narrow, and after a while I felt I was no longer being challenged. When I mustered out, I didn't have a clear idea of what I wanted to do with my life. I wasn't very confident that I was qualified for conventional jobs. I was still pretty young, but I did worry about the future.

It didn't take much for a recruiter from CSIS to interest me in a new career. Newly married, I needed a job. They were attracted by my analytical skills, and my willingness to tackle complex situations, devising potential strategies. It also involved field work. This was much more to my liking. I was being given some freedom to use my talent, and not just report up the chain of command.

A short indoctrination period, followed by more training, and I was assigned to Section 3, the top end of the service. That was my first surprise. I was young and just getting started. I didn't realize how much my army training had contributed to my selection to the elite element. Later I would learn just how cynical the whole process had been. The smart guys knew enough to choose Section 2 as a stepping stone. I hadn't been around long enough to know better.