The Interview

The Interview

by DK Broadwell

Liam lingered at the entrance of the small nondescript government building. Pacing, he checked his tie and his watch multiple times. He had a lot riding on this interview. It would affect the rest of his life. He didn’t want to blow it. Steeling himself, he orbited through the antique revolving door into the lobby.

The lobby was deserted except for a bored clerk behind a worn counter. Liam read his name badge: Barker. He handed the older man his appointment letter, which Barker read intently.

“Hmm, you’re going to the special floor. It has its own elevator. Follow me.” Barker pressed a button and Liam heard a click that apparently locked the front doors while Barker was away from his post. Liam sensed the old man liked being the only one in charge.

They walked past the lobby elevators toward the back of the building. Given the job he was interviewing for, Liam wasn’t surprised to find the hallway deserted. When they reached the end of the hall, Barker swiped his card and opened a heavy metal door to reveal a small elevator. “There’s only one button. Good luck,” he said.

As Liam pressed the button, he said, “Thanks, Mr. Barker. And good luck on your retirement.”

Barker turned around sharply, but the elevator door closed before he could say anything.

Liam felt the elevator going down. If this doesn’t go as planned, he thought, I don’t have another option. This better work.

When the door opened, a man dressed in a well-worn conservative suit held out his hand and said, “Welcome, Liam. I’m John. My partner Mark and I are glad you could come in today. Follow me, please.”

Soon Liam was seated at a gray metal table across from John and Mark. Mark, who was the more senior of the two, opened the conversation. “You’re twenty-four years old, great school and grades, but no experience. What makes you want to work for the Firm?”

Liam answered with enthusiasm. “My dad did intelligence work for the Navy; he was my hero. I know how his world worked and always wanted to serve my country as he did.”

A few minutes later, John asked, “Your application says you don’t have any family. Any close friends, or a girlfriend?”

“No, sir,” Liam answered. “My folks are dead, I’m an only child, all my college friends live across the country now, and there are no romantic attachments.”

Mark and John continued to ask questions, and both were impressed by Liam’s answers. About an hour into the interview, as they were wrapping up, Mark asked him, “Let’s have some fun. Are you a bear or a tiger?”

“I’m a mule,” Liam answered. “Not just stubborn—I can’t be manipulated.”

“I don’t believe that, but I appreciate your chutzpah,” Mark said, taken aback by Liam’s unconventional answer. “Everyone can be manipulated. It’s the human condition. Feed a person some info, hold back some info.” His springy government office chair squeaked as he rocked back. Tenting his fingers, he looked at his partner. “John?”

John said to Liam, “One of your tasks at the Firm would be to help us nudge people to do things they weren’t thinking about, without them knowing it. Is your so-called immunity going to make you better at that?”

“Perhaps it could. Like many traits, mine is both a gift and a curse. For instance, playing chess, I can see what’s going to happen with my opponent, but I don’t have the skill or temperament to do anything about it. I have the same insight into those around me, media people, government employees—everybody, but not much agency. I’m immune to those who try to overtly or subtly change my behavior.”

“You’re fortunate humility is not a qualification for this position,” said Mark with a smirk. “You’re a mind reader then? Care to share an example of your superpower?”

“Not a mind reader, but it can look like magic,” said Liam. “I’m hyper-attuned to subtle behavioral cues in people. After a few minutes with someone I integrate these data into a predictive matrix of what they want and plan to do.”

“For instance, John intuits that I have a lot of talent, would like to have me as an ally here in the Firm, and would like me to help push you out so he can have your position.”

John and Mark sat stunned.

Liam continued, addressing Mark, “You want to hire me too, but convince me to work at low pay so you’ll have the budget to hire an additional person. You want to play the two new hires off each other so John can’t take advantage of the situation.” After a short pause he added, “And you also covet John’s wife.”

It was a long, empty silence before either of the interviewers spoke. They looked askance at one another while trying not to turn their heads. Finally, they both said simultaneously, “You…” “That’s…” and then stopped.

Mark held up his palm toward John to take the floor to speak and said to Liam, “You’re an unusual applicant, but your skill set is something the Firm can probably use to its advantage. We need to run this up the chain of command for a quick decision.” Rising from his chair, he motioned to Liam, “Please take a seat through here, in our private waiting area, while we consider your application further.” He held open the door to a small room with two comfortable chairs, a coffee table, a TV, and a small fridge. “The Firm doesn’t keep applicants who’ve gotten this far in the hiring process waiting long for an answer. Help yourself to the fridge.”

“Thanks,” said Liam.

After Liam was gone the two men stared at each other until Mark said, “Would you agree he’s not someone who should be allowed to work here at the Firm, you slimy bastard? He was spot on, wasn’t he?”

“Yes, you old toad. He’s also an asset that should be denied to our competition. Shall I?”

“Be my guest,” answered Mark.

John unlocked a small door in the wall adjacent to the room where Liam was waiting. He lifted the red guard covering a small button and depressed it. “That should do it,” he said. “It will take twenty minutes to vent the room after he’s dead. Let’s go get a coffee. I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

When they returned to check Liam’s body, John searched his pockets. In the front pocket of his sport coat, where it had been visible peeking out during the interview, they found a note:

Thanks for doing what I couldn’t do. Ironically, I knew suicide was my best option, but I couldn’t manipulate myself into doing it. The seizures and pain from my brain tumor have become unbearable.

“As dangerous as he was, I rather liked this guy,” Mark said. “And you need to request a transfer.”

“I liked him too. And stay away from my wife. I’ll call clean-up.”