INTELLIGENCE

"It stands for Monaxial Intelligence and Hermetic Operations."

EMTERR, a.k.a. The Bank. Somewhere between a global development bank and a private intelligence service with allegiance to none but itself and capitalism, EMTERR is the Opera's wealthiest enemy -- and therefore yours.

You are intruding on something far more intimate than an exchange of intelligence.

But I'm an operant... a spy for an international intelligence agency...

Concerning reports on the wire from Portofiro: They're saying a member of an unspecified intelligence service has just been shot in public. They're saying this could be an international incident.

The secluded booth, scene of countless intelligence trysts.

In a one-person intelligence agency?

A paragraph from his red folder flashes redder across your mind: '... POSSESSING A MONSTROUS INTELLIGENCE THAT RESTS ON HALLUCINATORY LOGICAL CONSTRUCTION.'

Monaxial Intelligence and Hermetic Operations.

"You were both figments in the dark dreams of a vast, incomprehensible intelligence."

"She doesn't know anything about socks, she's an intelligence asset."

"CASCADE, I have a clear record of every one of the four hundred and twenty two times that cats have suddenly stopped and stared at me at exactly the moment I was in the middle of an important intelligence operation."

"I don't think cats are running their own intelligence operation, HOLOCENE."

Something feline in his eyes, too. An intelligence, but utterly dissimilar from any kind you know.

"That's why I have a clear record of every one of the four hundred and twenty two times that cats have suddenly stopped and stared at me at exactly the moment I was in the middle of an important intelligence operation."

In another life, you are both earnestly selling your cotton wares, far beyond the shadows of international intelligence.

"Why aren't you writing it down? It's a primo piece of intelligence."

The evening swirls past in a flurry of cocktails, spilled beer, insults directed towards your general intelligence.

"No, no. A de facto counter intelligence lead cannot risk being seen in the same place twice, our enemies are very attuned to patterns and so forth..."

"Is intelligence even really possible? Is agency?"

Consciousness is paranoid by its very definition -- never mind intelligence.

Of course it's possible. Not every intelligence is paranoid.

"And guess who's part of the counter intelligence security... detail on this high, highly sensitive... assignment? Working under... Mr. Tesoro...." His hand starts shaking as the air retreats from the room.

"Only mid? That's fine... you are rusty... you need time. I'm a... de facto lead... I am trained in counter intelligence and... people management."

'Small controller' or 'former double' -- both possible entities are devious in their intelligence.

The intelligence has self-redacted.

It's possible that Yana's intelligence was faulty, and that the old Luzian guy's disappearance had nothing to do with the 'hyper incriminating shit' he said into the payphone.

The tendrils of a watery, alien intelligence.

"Why are you fucking me like this, Hershel? Are you counter counter-intelligence? Are you a de facto lead for someone else?" He is visibly upset.

Across time and space you feel another intelligence reaching out to you: insane, methodical, murderous.

"Made the switch from intelligence to securities."

"Yes, actually, I am the intelligence agency police. I got promoted."

"Don't be. M.I.H.O. prioritises operational security at all times. And who are you, the intelligence agency police?"

A one man intelligence agency. Typical Remembrancer histrionics.

"I was conducting internal intelligence on behalf of the Remembrancer Division and followed Twitchitov to a card game with a cabal of other high-rankers."

"This is moronic. Moronic Intelligence and Whatever Operations."

"Monaxial Intelligence and Hermetic Operations."

Flashes of HOLOCENE's red folder: 'MONSTROUS INTELLIGENCE'... 'HALLUCINATORY LOGICAL CONSTRUCTION'...

"But that of course requires precise intelligence -- where they'll be, how many their number."

'... ultimately, the cruel irony of infinite mutual distrust being the fundamental principle on which intelligence agencies are founded should be evident to the intelligent reader.'

At heart, he is a poet-spy. He holds curiosity for the world, and its layers, even if it has been deeply corroded by intelligence work.

The Opera has unofficially been considered the last come, last served among the world three's leading intelligence agencies for at least two decades.

A possible rendezvous. Actionable intelligence.

Older than anyone else there by at least ten years. Small eyes in a smaller frame, looking out from her corner with cold intelligence.

All together, in a choreographed loss of intelligence, bodies begin to drop.

Defector accounts confirm Buendia favours a hands-on approach to counter-intelligence. No foreign network, including yours, collapses without his say.

A message to the world's intelligence agencies.

"I'm with Monaxial Intelligence and Hermetic Operations. Witness our debut."