How to Archer (3 page)

A double agent is an operative who merely
pretends
to spy on one intelligence agency (Agency A) on behalf of a second intelligence agency (Agency B) but is in reality loyal to the first intelligence agency (Agency A). And I’m already confused, so here’s a brief example:

Let’s say I’m in Moscow, doing my thing. I get captured by an incredibly sexy KGB agent—let’s call her Anya—who not only has perfect breasts but is also into all the same stuff I’m into. It’s like she totally gets me. Anya then attempts to “turn” me—convince me to spy on ISIS for the KGB—using a combination of money, sex, a totally dude-like interest in lacrosse, and being at least somewhat open to the idea of anal. I agree to spy on ISIS for the KGB. But in reality I just
pretend
to do so, and in fact spy
on,
and pass disinformation
to,
the KGB
for
ISIS, during my bimonthly trips to Moscow. And bimonthly actually works out pretty well for me, because Anya’s hot, but she’s also a little crazy, and it turns out she was just stringing me along on the whole anal thing anyway. So it’s not like I’m looking for anything super-long-term here.

A
redoubled agent
is a double agent (ostensibly spying for Agency B, in reality still loyal to Agency A) who has been discovered by the secondary controlling agency (Agency B) and then forced to actually spy on Agency A
for
Agency B, which he was supposed to be doing all along, That’s also a bit complicated, so using the lovely Anya again, let’s see how that might play out:

I’m back in Moscow, spying
on
the KGB
for
ISIS. Things with Anya are going just okay: we’re both pretty busy with work, she’s (rightfully) a bit suspicious about what I do with my evenings when I’m not with her, and to be honest, the sex just isn’t what it used to be. We get in some huge stupid fight about I can’t even remember what, she starts throwing my stuff all over the bedroom, and the next thing I know, we’re both staring at these secret ISIS codebooks that were in my Hermès grip (which is now so scuffed as to be totally unusable), I am exposed. So, not wanting to end this lovely evening with a 7.62mm Tokarev slug in my brain, I agree to become a
redoubled agent
and spy
on
ISIS
for
the KGB. Anya, for her part, agrees that she has trust issues and promises to see someone about it. The anal question,
for now,
is left unresolved.

A
triple agent
—not to be confused with a redoubled agent
¹⁵
—is simply an intelligence operative who works for three separate intelligence agencies. A
triple-double
has something to do with basketball, or maybe hockey. I wouldn’t know: I’m more of a lacrosse man, myself.

This technique derives its name from pirate times, when the pirates would drive around in their pirate ships, drinking gimlets and flying a non-terrifying, non-skull-and-crossbones festooned flag. The Italian flag, for example. Then some nonpirate ship—probably stuffed to the boat-rafters with slaves and rum—would see the pirates and, thinking they were just some cool Italian guys who probably know where the party is, wave for them to come over there.

But just when the pirates got within grappling-hook range …
bam!
Out comes the ol’ Jolly Roger, and then the pirates would spend the rest of the afternoon raping the woolen pants off everybody.

Today a false flag operation is when an operative from one intelligence agency (Agency A) executes a mission against a second agency (Agency B) while posing as an operative for a
third
agency (Agency C) causing Agency B to cast blame on Agency C. Nobody gets raped.
¹⁶

By far my favorite intelligence-gathering technique, the honey-pot relies on a combination of seduction and blackmail. The Soviets are generally recognized as being the most skilled in the use of the honeypot, employing it with great success against Western agents all over the globe. The KGB term for a female agent used in a honeypot is a “swallow,” which works on so many levels I don’t even know where to begin.
¹⁷

The first step in the honeypot is
seducing
an enemy agent sexually. Normally the “honey” in the “honeypot” is a woman, but this is not always the case: agents of the British clandestine services have traditionally been incredibly likely to be seduced by thin, handsome, nearly body-hairless young men with lips like soft plums. Oh, and cocks.

The second step in the honeypot is to
blackmail
the enemy agent by threatening to reveal the fact that he allowed himself to be seduced sexually.

If the honey is a woman, the threat of exposure must be predicated upon the fact that said enemy agent is specifically prohibited by his government or agency from sexually fraternizing with any woman belonging to a particular group or organization (female East German civilians, for example, or female KGB agents). Otherwise, the only thing he’d have to worry about—when the glossy black-and-whites of him getting a rim job from some gorgeous blonde showed up at his agency—is tearing his rotator cuff high-fiving everybody.

If the honey is a broody, flaxen-haired twink—with soulful eyes, the slightest hint of downy blond fuzz on his lower back, and an ass that would’ve made Lord Byron chew his own lips off—that’s usually enough right there. You don’t even need to go to the trouble of making glossy black-and-whites: the (invariably British) agent will just assume that Stefan’s camera phone fell out of his pocket while he was doing poppers in a toilet stall in some club.

The third step is
coercing
the enemy agent to do your bidding. Continue to do so until he is exposed as a double agent by his government and summarily executed.
¹⁸

This concept gets bandied about a great deal. But if you happen to mention it, some guy—not the highly trained intelligence agent standing next to you on the firing range as you both repeatedly ten-ring a Carlos the Jackal silhouette, just some random guy in a bar whose girlfriend is about three minutes away from going home with you—will blurt out how it’s not actually a real thing. Well, guess what, genius: not only is it a real thing, but I just realized that I forgot to renew mine. And it’s not like I don’t have thirty dollars, but that’s just totally out of line for a late fee.
¹⁹

Named after Morocco Mole—the loyal sidekick of intelligence-operative-slash-rodent Secret Squirrel—the mole, also known as an “agent in place,” is one of the most important aspects of counterintelligence. The mole is an intelligence operative who works—for an extended period, sometimes decades—in the clandestine service of an
enemy
government (e.g., the United States) but who remains loyal to his
own
government (e.g., the Soviet Union). I used the United States as the dupe in that example because to the best of my knowledge, we’ve never been able to slip an American mole past those sneaky Reds. Conversely, it is estimated
^{[by whom?]}
that three out of five American intelligence agents are, in fact, Russian spies.

That’s obviously hyperbole (if that word means what I think it does), but as far as moles are concerned, the USSR has been kicking America’s ass through its hat ever since WWII, In fact, the United States has only been able to successfully mount one mole operation in the past fifty years, which was Donnie Brasco. And which doesn’t really count, because it was against Italy.

I don’t know what this is.

As Sterling Archer, the world’s greatest secret agent, I am all too frequently required to defend my physical person-body from all kinds of various attackers and/or assailants. From the KGB to cuckolded husbands, I’ve been in physical altercations with just about everything on two legs.
²⁰
Luckily for me, I have a veritable slew of arrows in my self-defense quiver. Not including actual arrows, which technically belong in the section on ranged weapons.
²¹

But back to the quiver-slew: I have trained—or was supposed to have trained, but then it turned out the classes were just crazy-early in the morning—in numerous deadly martial arts. These trainings are as follows, in no particular order, Well, other than alphabetical. Turns out.
²²

Japanese, I think. Maybe something to do with bamboo swords? No idea. This was one of those crazy-early-in-the-morning ones. Sensei guy was a dick. Did not train in this discipline.

While I never trained as a boxer (mainly because it’s not very practical for life-or-death situations), boxing is nonetheless an important part of my life: I like to get out to Vegas at least once a year for a heavyweight title bout. Because that’s basically like the Oscars for hookers.

Brazilian martial art combining hand-to-hand combat with music and dance. Seriously. It’s essentially “samba krumping.” I don’t get it, didn’t train in it, but it makes me wonder: who could make a street fight sexier than the Brazilians? Answer: some other, even sexier Brazilians.

A Sikh martial art which uses swords, lances, javelins, bows and arrows, and something called a
bagh nakh,
which is what I imagine would happen if Freddy Krueger and some brass knuckles had a baby. Did not train in this discipline. Because I’ll just say it: I was kinda scared.

I could not (well, chose not to) attend hapkido training, but I think Steven Seagal holds a ham-flavored belt in it. So if you ever need to fight Marlon Brando’s fatter, more ponytailed doppelgänger, just call Steven Seagal and ask him how he would go about it. I just assume he would eat his opponent, while growling: “Om nom nom, I was in the CIA, nom nom nom…”

Judo can be (and apparently usually is) translated as “the gentle way” or “the way of gentleness.” Developed in Japan by a Japanese guy named Dr. Kan
ō
Jigor
ō
in the mid-to late-eleventh century BC,
²³
judo relies on the principle of using an opponent’s strength and/or momentum against himself. Awesome concept, right?