James Bond Is Dead

I've been reading a lot of spy fiction recently (currently "Agents of Treachery", edited by Otto Penzler), and all I've learned is that James Bond was an asshole. Do you notice that he never follows anybody or does any real surveillance? Or that he never runs agents or in any way tries to actually gather intelligence? Why is that? All he does is go lightly, nay, casually, undercover. Even then, it's no big stretch: all his cover identities are suave, well-dressed, playboy types. The villains always figure out who he is fairly quickly. "Hmm, a well-dressed Brit who enjoys baccarat and shaken martinis. Somebody run that data...Oh, James Bond, you say? Yes, I thought he looked familiar." What a dick.

But maybe I'm being too hard on the old boy. In the last couple of weeks, I've tried out a few of the techniques myself that these operatives and field agents put so much stock by. You know what? It's fucking impossible! Let me share with you just exactly how I failed Tradecraft 101:

1. Following People

Following people on foot through the downtown area of a major metropolitan city is fairly easy. I tailed my subject for ten blocks and he never once looked behind him. But then he went into an office building with a security guard at every one of its three entrances. And I lost him.

Following people by car turned out to be just as successful. On a busy street, I stayed a few cars behind my subject for a couple of miles. Then he turned off the busy street onto a residential street and I was the only other car behind him. After two very slow turns, I think he figured it out.

2. Being Followed

In the books, the operatives like to turn to one another and say, "I think we picked up a tail." They also enjoy saying, "I felt like I was being tailed, so I flushed them out into the open and then shook them off." Oh, you felt like you were being followed? And what exactly does that feel like? Let me tell you: I couldn't spot a tail unless every time I turned around or looked in one of those convenient slanted store windows, there was a seven foot tall man dressed all in black walking RIGHT BEHIND ME. I've tried walking around my apartment and noticing who was directly behind me and it's impossible. If someone was tailing me, all they would have to do is stay a block back and I wouldn't spot them.

If anyone doesn't feel like walking, don't worry - I'm much easier to follow while driving. I tried counting cars (Leonard Chang, "Over the Shoulder") and almost had an accident. Again, if that seven foot tall guy is driving a bright red Humvee, I'll probably spot him. Short of that, I could have S.P.E.C.T.R.E., the NKVD, and Ernst Fucking Blofeld behind me and I would never know.


Maybe next week I'll try going undercover (with my lousy poker face) or "turning an asset" (given that I can barely convince people to do things they actually want to do). I don't hold out high hopes for a successful mission. I think I'm better suited to the anonymous spy support team which hovers in the background and does the heavy research.

Besides, I've given up martinis.