The route going to the Farm seemed a lifetime journey. The long road conspired with my thoughts to go on even though I knew from the start that this endeavor may or may not be of great help to me or Oliver. The excitement deep within me showed upon my movements inside the vehicle driven by Mr. Buckwell who gave us the brochure of Camp Peary.Camp Peary is an approximately 9,000-acre military reservation in York County near Williamsburg, Virginia. Officially referred to as Armed Forces Experimental Training Activity (AFETA) under the auspices of the Department of Defense, Camp Peary is widely believed to host the covert CIA training facility known as “The Farm,” a training facility for the Central Intelligence Agency, although this has never been formally acknowledged by the U.S. government. The portion of the original World War II Seabee base which is north of Interstate 64 has remained closed to the public since 1951. However, the roads and many structures of Magruder and Bigler’s Mi
Being real with people is the most effective way of gaining their trust. If they spot a fake, you’ve lost all hope and it’s time to move along to another mark. A fake interest is something like “oh neat” or “that sounds cool” (it’s ok to say these types of things but don’t repeat them over and over). It’s always important to interject with relativity “so that’s kind of like…” or “that reminds me of…” “is that related to…” things like this, making associations, connecting ideas. This keeps the conversation going. Never ever say “that’s weird” “I’ve never heard of that before” or anything that has to potential to shut down the flow of a conversation and lead to awkwardness or silence.Once contact and trust are established, it’s time to start planning ahead and execute with the best of your knowledge and skills. Always find options for what you’re doing. And, lastly, as what I’ve learned which stick on my mind, “Don’t get caught.”We’ve been transported back to our hotel suite after a m
The restaurants are also meeting places for North Korean intelligence officers and North Korean agents. Officials, businessmen, and overseas workers also frequent the restaurants to recruit targets for foreign intelligence services, including the Central Intelligence Agency (CIA), China's Ministry of State Security, and South Korea's National Intelligence Service, as well as other spy agencies.Around 7 in the evening, Oliver and I went to the Chinese Restaurant on top of Al Guhrair Center as scheduled. I told Oliver to go inside the restaurant alone, and I waited at the mezzanine floor where I purchased a cup of espresso coffee. Five minutes had passed, I received a call from Oliver telling me to come up, but I told him to change the meeting place that they should come down at the mezzanine floor."Okay Marco, I'll tell her. Wait for us at the coffee shop."I waited for almost 10 minutes when they appeared suddenly in front of me."Marc...hurry...come...quick...!" I stood up quickly,
Marco Fernando Jr. sat in seat 4b looking out the window of the plane, watching it taxi down the NAIA runway. He couldn't believe that after two years of being away from their house that he would be coming back from Shanghai, China. He smiled and sat in his chair and lowered the belt attached to it. “Oh My Dear Philippines!” A few hours after the plane landed at noon he allowed himself to choose blue jean shorts and a white polo t-shirt, a pair of rust-brown men's sandals that he got from a shopping SM mall were on his feet. He wiggled his toes out of the sandals and looked down at his laptop. He plays a chess game on the internet. It was his turn. He checked exactly where he could move a pawn, just so he could enter his opponent's domain. After some decisive thought, he moved his pawn to the right of the third chess piece on the board. Marco Fernando Jr. went home to Bacoor City, Cavite where his mother's house is, near Molino Boulevard. Marco Junior walked up to his old house, l
Marco Fernando Junior lay in bed, thinking about all the things he had endured in the past two years. The passing of his mother, his own child was born and then also left this world, also passed away, painful. He remembered that he could not close his eyes at night during the first three months he was away in Cavite. Guilt, anger, pain and frustration were able to claim him during those times. In the ninth month, he felt the emotions go away one by one, until finally, he started working again, left the house where Norman and Anne were and got a home of his own.Two weeks after moving in Manila, he was going through his things and found a few things that Hershey had given him over the years. These items of memorabilia, held tightly to his heart, reminding him of a sentence he had written on his heart saying that he would come back one day for her. Although he wanted to go back, he wasn't sure if he wanted to see her or not. After deliberating his heart and mind, he bought a plane ticke
Marco Fernando Jr. watched her expression, feeling her heart beat faster and her palms sweat. She was so beautiful, the brilliance of her brown eyes and white skin, wonderful.Hershey's eyes darted to her desk, glancing at the papers there. Holding the stacks, she cleared her throat, "We should get started with our day."Marco Junior nodded, "Yeah."Hershey lifted the papers to her chest and strode toward the door. With that step, her hip bit the papers that were left behind and knocked them down. Whispering under her breath, she whispered, "Owww." Bending down to pick them up, the ones in her hands were also sent flying. She closed her eyes. That's what she got for not paying attention.Marco Junior bent down to help her pick up the papers, a smile on his face. "How did you do that?"Hershey glanced at him, her eyes meeting his bright green eyes. "It was just an accident."He grinned, "Are you paying attention Chocolate?"He watched the glow on her cheeks and then spread across her f
He looked up into dark emerald eyes, unwavering. Derek pushed aside the chills of discomfort and extended his hand, "I apologize about that." He stared at the young man wearing blue jean shorts, tennis shoes and a yellow and white striped polo shirt. When their hands came together, the handshake was short. Derek glanced at Tyler, "Do you want to come with us?" Tyler raised an eyebrow, sensing the anger between the two men. He said, "No, it's ok, Marc and I are going..." "Hey, I say go for it," he asked. Marc stated, his eyes on Hershey. Tyler looked at him. "Marc, if they want to be alone..." "No, it's cool let him, I'd like to hear how you met." Derek stated, making room for Tyler and Marc Junior. Marc sat next to Hershey, who was near the booth. Derek turned his gaze back to Marc, who just glared. Marc's eyes landed on him, meeting his gaze with a blank stare. When Tyler cleared his throat, he glanced down at the menu on his side of the table, "So, what's recommendable here?"
Hershey took a deep breath and finished his lunch with Derek. As much as she tried to focus, she couldn't help but hope that Marco Fernando Jr. would be okay. I hope he will be okay. She listened, until Marc's name fell from her lips. This caused her to pause in her thoughts. Her attention was focused on what Derek was saying awhile ago, "...and with the clothes he wears, you could tell he grew up here, I mean with that accent, he can't be from another place." Derek turned his gaze to Hershey, "You actually went out with him?" Hershey frowns, "What's wrong with him?" "He doesn't seem like your type, that's all." "What do you mean, Derek?" "You know, he is..." Derek racked his brain for a word to describe him, but came up empty. "I don't know. He doesn't even look like your type. His clothes are not fashionable and what about his hair? The creepy eyes." Hershey smiled, "Are you jealous of him, Derek?" Derek cleared his throat, "No, I just can't figure him to be your type, that's