Luke LaManna

Rick was about to face the black box. That's what CIA grunts called a polygraph test, which agents had to take every five years, or at least they were supposed to. The agency was backlogged, and Rick hadn't had a test in 10 years. Back then, he wouldn't have cared, but now he was terrified. A dark cloud hung above the CIA, and Rick was the secret at its center.

In his year of selling secrets to the KGB, Rick had snitched on many Russian agents in league with the CIA. He expected the KGB to investigate them slowly, punish them discreetly. Instead, he was horrified when he learned that 20 CIA assets had disappeared, virtually overnight.

In his year of selling secrets to the KGB, Rick had snitched on many Russian agents in league with the CIA. He expected the KGB to investigate them slowly, punish them discreetly. Instead, he was horrified when he learned that 20 CIA assets had disappeared, virtually overnight.

He got the sense that the CIA knew something had gone horribly wrong, but he wasn't sure what data they had, or if they suspected him. Rick was dying to get out of DC and away from all the agents at CIA headquarters who knew him too well and might start to suspect him. He had just landed a cushy gig as the CIA Soviet branch chief in Rome.

He got the sense that the CIA knew something had gone horribly wrong, but he wasn't sure what data they had, or if they suspected him. Rick was dying to get out of DC and away from all the agents at CIA headquarters who knew him too well and might start to suspect him. He had just landed a cushy gig as the CIA Soviet branch chief in Rome.

Though the job would take him away from a lot of valuable DC intel, it had other benefits, not the least of which was keeping his romance with Rosario alive by whisking her off to a glamorous life abroad. But Rick couldn't go to Rome if he didn't pass the polygraph test, and he had no idea what kind of questions were waiting for him. He got to the door and knocked.

Though the job would take him away from a lot of valuable DC intel, it had other benefits, not the least of which was keeping his romance with Rosario alive by whisking her off to a glamorous life abroad. But Rick couldn't go to Rome if he didn't pass the polygraph test, and he had no idea what kind of questions were waiting for him. He got to the door and knocked.

A female technician opened it, then guided him into a dark room. It felt like a tomb. She told him to sit and hooked him up to the polygraph. Rick took a deep breath and told himself, keep calm. He knew that polygraphs weren't 100% reliable. They were too reactive to a subject's emotions. A nervous truth teller might fail while a relaxed liar might pass.

A female technician opened it, then guided him into a dark room. It felt like a tomb. She told him to sit and hooked him up to the polygraph. Rick took a deep breath and told himself, keep calm. He knew that polygraphs weren't 100% reliable. They were too reactive to a subject's emotions. A nervous truth teller might fail while a relaxed liar might pass.

When the operator asked if Rick had unauthorized contact with foreign spies, he said no. When she asked if he disclosed CIA secrets, he said no to that too. He felt like he was in control, until she asked, had Rick ever been pitched by a foreign agency? As in, had someone tried to turn him into a mole? That's when Rick faltered. He couldn't think of what to say.

When the operator asked if Rick had unauthorized contact with foreign spies, he said no. When she asked if he disclosed CIA secrets, he said no to that too. He felt like he was in control, until she asked, had Rick ever been pitched by a foreign agency? As in, had someone tried to turn him into a mole? That's when Rick faltered. He couldn't think of what to say.

The technician looked sharply up at him. Rick had to think fast. So he laughed. Then he apologized. No, he'd never been pitched. But yes, he was worried he might be pitched in Rome. This new job was a big deal, and he was nervous that something would go wrong. That's why he stumbled. The technician paused, then she nodded and moved on.

The technician looked sharply up at him. Rick had to think fast. So he laughed. Then he apologized. No, he'd never been pitched. But yes, he was worried he might be pitched in Rome. This new job was a big deal, and he was nervous that something would go wrong. That's why he stumbled. The technician paused, then she nodded and moved on.

She asked the rest of her questions and Rick answered each one calmly. Once she was done, Rick got the results. He'd passed the test. With that, he stepped out of the black box and back into the light. Rick took a walk outside to bask in the spring sunlight and marvel at the cherry blossoms. He was nervous about leaving DC for Rome, but there were definite upsides.

She asked the rest of her questions and Rick answered each one calmly. Once she was done, Rick got the results. He'd passed the test. With that, he stepped out of the black box and back into the light. Rick took a walk outside to bask in the spring sunlight and marvel at the cherry blossoms. He was nervous about leaving DC for Rome, but there were definite upsides.

The KGB was committed to their relationship. And since the CIA and FBI weren't constantly surveilling the streets of Rome the way they were in DC, it would be easier for Rick to meet his contacts. More meetings meant more money. More money meant a better life. Once he got to Europe, Rick intended to live large.

The KGB was committed to their relationship. And since the CIA and FBI weren't constantly surveilling the streets of Rome the way they were in DC, it would be easier for Rick to meet his contacts. More meetings meant more money. More money meant a better life. Once he got to Europe, Rick intended to live large.

A few months later, 34-year-old Rosario Ames snuggled under a cashmere blanket by a crackling fire. She was at a luxury ski chalet in Gestadt, Switzerland, having the time of her life. She felt a hand on her neck, and she turned. It was Rick, his face red from a day on the slopes. He held out a hot chocolate, spiked with Grand Marnier liquor.

A few months later, 34-year-old Rosario Ames snuggled under a cashmere blanket by a crackling fire. She was at a luxury ski chalet in Gestadt, Switzerland, having the time of her life. She felt a hand on her neck, and she turned. It was Rick, his face red from a day on the slopes. He held out a hot chocolate, spiked with Grand Marnier liquor.

The last few months had been like something out of a dream. Since coming to Rome, Rick had treated her to fine dining, designed her clothes, and had even started talking about buying a Jaguar. Rosario liked her new life. It was so much more exciting than the dreary grind of DC. But on the other hand, something felt off. Back in DC, Rick had been so worried about money.