Page 27 of Nash Falls
“Yes, that’s actually on page four,” lied Nash.
“Then your man can check online to verify the phone number belongs to the local FBI office, or another office if the agent is not from the area. He can then call that number and ask for the agent.”
“Even though it’s all hush-hush?”
“I don’t mean scream to the world that there’s an investigation ongoing with the man’s company. But if the person purporting to be an agent is actually an agent, they will verify his status with the Bureau. And if the writer wants to really make sure, he can have the character request a meeting with the agent’s associates and/or superiors to ensure that this is not some sort of scam. They’ll need to do that anyway to prep the guy for what they want him to do. Then the audience will follow the rest of the film while gorging themselves on popcorn and Junior Mints until the guy and the gal escape death and jump into bed.”
“Does the Bureau even do that sort of thing? Enlist people on the inside to act as, well, a mole or something?”
“All the time. How else can we get to the dirt? In fact, it’s quite often the case that the person recruited to act as an informant has committed crimes. That way the Bureau can put the screws to the person to get them to cooperate. You go after the low-hanging fruitand pressure them with prison time to make them flip against the top folks. That’s a classic technique.”
Nash took a sip of his wine to steady his nerves. “I’m not sure the writer has really put that in there, either.”
“Give him that suggestion, too. Hell, maybe I can get a partial screenwriter credit.”
The two men laughed, Rankin genuinely and Nash just for effect.
“One other question I had was, why should the potential inside guy take the FBI’s word that his company is engaged in criminal activity? I mean, couldn’t they lie about that? Wouldn’t the man need more proof before agreeing to help? I mean, if he wasn’t a criminal himself, like you were saying.”
Rankin turned serious. “In my experience the Bureau does not approach a potential target unless they have evidence of potential wrongdoing, Walt. It would be a waste of time and resources, and there are laws against fishing expeditions and defamation and the like. It might not be enough to execute arrest warrants and take to trial, but they have to have a compelling basis to initiate something like that. Hey, if the writer wants to put in that the guy is snooping around on his own to find out the dirt before making a decision to help, that would be plausible. I actually had that happen on a case I handled. And it could add some excitement. You know, will he or won’t he get caught, that sort of thing? And maybe while he’s doing that the gal agent saves his butt at the last second and they fall into bed earlier than the third act.” Rankin guffawed over that one while Nash could only manage a smile.
As they walked back to the house Nash said, “I guess the last question I have is motivation—for the spy, I mean.”
“Like I said, Walt, most of the people who do this sort of thing are criminals themselves. So they really don’t have a choice.”
“You said you had worked some cases like this?”
“Quite a few. Organized crime. South American drug cartels. Some white-collar stuff right here. Household-name firms up to their armpits in shit you wouldn’t believe. Environmental polluters,fake or faulty parts for aircraft or cars. I can tell you stories about Big Pharma that would curl your hair. I swear to God it’s like corporate folks sit around all day thinking of ways to poison, maim, and cheat us, all in the name of the almighty dollar.”
“So how did you nail folks like that?”
“Corralled some high-level executive types and squeezed them, hard. They cried like babies, but they went along with it. Then they went into WITSEC. And they kissed all their money and big homes bye-bye.” He chuckled. “They had to live like the rank-and-file for once. I remember the cases I’d work with the U.S. marshals. We’d ship most of these former rich assholes off to the wilds of Oregon or Bumfuck, Idaho. They’d end up working for minimum wage at a Dollar General, but they should’ve gone to prison.”
“Uh-huh, wow, that is amazing,” said Nash, trying to keep from hyperventilating.
“We always approached the target in secret, of course. We didn’t want to give away the game from the start.”
“And how did things go for the most part?” Nash asked.
“A slew of really big victories and a few defeats.”
“You don’t often hear of the big victories.”
Rankin shrugged. “That’s because the company’s lawyers would often negotiate secret big-dollar settlements and no admitting of a criminal act by the corporation, but they still paid a big price and some folks went to prison.”
“And the inside people working with the FBI?”
“I have to admit, going into WITSEC did cause a great deal of problems in the families. As you can imagine spouses and children living an upscale life don’t appreciate having to get by on scraps. Broke up a lot of families. But you may not want that in the movie. End the film with the sex. Everyone will be happier.”
“And the few defeats?” Nash said, his voice a bit raspy with anxiety.
“The moles got caught and didn’t make it through still breathing. Nature of the game, unfortunately. But like I said, most of themwere crooks, too. Bad acts catch up to you. I never cried over any of that. Sleep with the devil, you know.”
Rankin slapped Nash on the shoulder, startling him so badly he nearly spilled his wine. “So stick to fiction, Walt. Lot safer.”
Rankin’s laughter and words rang in Nash’s head all the way home.
CHAPTER
