Eyes Pried Open

by Vincent Sellers

  Part IV

  The End of the FBI Dream

  CHAPTER 45

  Calling it Quits

  After all of the excitement of numerous all-night (and sometimes all-weekend) sessions of chasing the bad guys, I was ready to call it quits. I had been living the FBI life for almost two years, and despite the excitement and occasional job satisfaction, chasing violent criminals for the next twenty years did not sound appealing. While I still enjoyed getting to carry my credentials and was proud to announce to people that I was an FBI agent, I felt that in the grand scheme, I was not making much of a difference in the world. After the course of almost two years in the FBI, I knew that the job was not something that I woke up in the morning and looked forward to. I did not see how I could truly embrace a job with unsolved kidnappings and violent crimes; I did not know how to just “shelve” the emotions on a weekend or evening and pick back up the following day. Many people in the FBI really do not have any personal life or family to speak of, and for those individuals the FBI may be fantastic profession. Other agents with families make difficult sacrifices and put their country first, and are mentally tough enough to compartmentalize what happens on the job, or else simply have the fortitude to keep going despite mental exhaustion or disillusion.

  Was my desire to fight for truth, justice, and the American way not on par with that of other FBI agents who refused to quit and continue to serve in this difficult profession? I had to ask myself this question, and I can look at myself in the mirror knowing the honest answer. My desire was not the problem. I had watched every episode of the Discovery Channel’s FBI Files documentary show at least once. When I had arrived at the FBI Academy, one of my FBI agent counselors had been heavily involved with one of the cases depicted on FBI Files. I could scarcely believe that I was getting into a profession that I had dreamed about for years. This counselor told me that what when I graduated from the FBI Academy, life would be fulfilling and that he looked forward to every single day as an FBI agent. I believed him, which only set my expectations much higher than they should have been. Unfortunately, his circumstances were quite different from mine. He was assigned to a rural area in the Midwest, and his job largely consisted of driving around to making “house calls” to small-town and rural police insurance departments. While being in a position to help coordinate law enforcement in rural areas was important, this was a far cry from the stress of being placed on a violent crime squad on the border of Mexico.

  Since it had been so incredibly difficult to get into the FBI, I exhausted every route that I could to find happiness within the Bureau. I attempted to switch to a white-collar squad, which would have complex and challenging investigations, but would have provided an improved work / life balance. I located a new agent who had recently been assigned to a white-collar squad and was unhappy with her assignment. She was single and wanted more action as an agent, so we both agreed that we would swap positions if the FBI management would allow us to do so. Both of our supervisors were initially on board, and my hopes were high that I would be able to start a new chapter in my career as an FBI agent. However, management at a level above our supervisors put a stop to our request. The reasoning was that there were other factors to be considered, such as other agents who were more senior than we were, who deserved the first shot at changing squads. I wholeheartedly agreed with that assessment from a logical perspective; I did not deserve any preferential treatment and did feel that the men and women who had put in years of dedication with the FBI should have the first choice on squad assignments. However, I was disappointed not to see any changes in squad personnel over the next few months; I had taken the initiative to make a positive change for another agent and myself, and yet my request was denied by an administrator who apparently had looked at the request as a “what if” scenario, and had chosen to protect himself from looking bad if somebody had complained about my transfer. When I saw no movement for agents to be reassigned to squads based on their preferences, that enforced my negative view of the vast FBI administrative bureaucracy, and made me feel that if I could not make a difference in my own life in the FBI, how could I really make an impact on the outside world?

  Another factor that was preventing my transfer from the squad was the simple fact that the violent crime squad was vastly understaffed. There was far more work to be done than the available resources could accomplish. We could only afford the time to react to major violent crimes, but there were a number of proactive investigations that we did not have the manpower to work. To make matters worse, kidnappings and drug-related violence were on the rise, without an end in sight. My squad could not afford to lose agents, or more importantly, the knowledge and experience that agents rapidly gained in working violent crimes. Violent crimes tend to grab headlines, and I did not blame the FBI management for wanting to make sure that we were covered for high-media exposure events. While I saw the immediate need to add more agents on my squad, I also recognized a tremendous need for more agents in other areas, especially for white collar crimes, including cyber-crime, mortgage fraud, corporate fraud, and health-care fraud. The FBI had reacted to some extent to these growing criminal trends, but it seemed to me that the Bureau was only scratching the surface of all the crimes that were being committed. Based on my computer and corporate background, I knew that I would have been able to make a more significant contribution by working unaddressed white collar crimes instead of violent crimes. Seeing my best skills go to waste with reactive investigations that could have often been handled by local law enforcement officials did not encourage me to continue my role in the FBI.

  I had a number of broad improvement ideas that I knew would never be realized; it is difficult for a low-level FBI agent to make or even suggest changes that impact the organization. For example, in the cyber-crime realm, I felt that the squad should be split up with specialized agents assigned to different squads using a classic matrix organization structure that is common in the corporate world. A “computer crime” was logically the same as a “telephone crime” or “mail crime”, and the FBI certainly did not have dedicated squads for telephone or mail crimes. There was a need for more technological expertise throughout all squads. However, unlike in my previous jobs, in which I could make a positive suggestion that would be entertained seriously by the highest levels of the organization, the FBI management was resistant to change and effectively sent the message to agents: “You do your job, and let us do ours.” From day one, I always understood and accepted that my assignments would be based on “the needs of the Bureau.” But I also understood that despite the similarities, the FBI is not the military; I was free to leave at any time. The more time I spent in danger and away from my family, the more I was convinced that leaving the Bureau was the right move for me.

  My long-term plan in the FBI was eventually to transfer to the Austin FBI office, which is a satellite office of the San Antonio Division. Unfortunately, the wait for agents to transfer to Austin was projected at twenty years; this office had the highest demand in the Bureau. In twenty years I planned on being retired. I knew that I could get to one of the Texas border cities much faster, which could potentially result in with an Austin transfer before I hit twenty years, but that plan was filled with uncertainly. I knew that an assignment to any border city would likely be a miserable experience of working the same types of illegal border activity that I wanted to get away from in San Diego. I did not see myself wanting to stay in San Diego serving on the violent crime squad for an extended length of time. I was effectively out of viable options in the FBI, and I realized that it was time to begin exploring outside employment. For the first time since applying to the FBI, I dusted off my resume and updated it with my FBI employment experience.

  Although I began to look outside of the FBI for a new job, an opening in the Austin office came open for an analyst, and while the jump from agent to analyst almost never occurs, I fe
lt that for me this would be a great fit. I was emotionally mature enough not to care that the general “pecking order” in the FBI places the status of agents above analysts and other employees. And I knew that a good analyst could actually make a greater impact than an entire squad of agents who only respond to individual crimes without seeing a bigger picture that could lead to dismantling an entire criminal enterprise. I spoke with the lead agent in Austin, who encouraged me to apply for the job. I followed the standard application process, which was the same process that any citizen undergoes when applying for an FBI job, and never heard back. I took this as a sign that I should move on to other things.

  Jennifer continually worried about my safety and was frequently disappointed on weekends when my job interfered with our plans. Aside from my personal unhappiness, I knew that it was not fair to her to continue in my profession. We were tired of living with our four animals, two Chinese Pug dogs and two Persian cats, in small quarters that we could barely afford. We were tired of having a window-unit air conditioner that struggled to cool our living room. We had been used to living in a spacious house before moving to California. A brief time in an apartment was fine, but over time we grew to miss our creature comforts and the privacy and security that a comfortable house offers. I even felt bad for our animals, who went from having a house with windows and views to a small apartment with nothing to look at but off-white walls. We missed Texas; friends, family, food, open spaces, and friendly people were all elements that seemed to be absent in California.

  In the meantime, Jennifer had a network of former coworkers who were more than eager to have her return to working at Dell. We had kept our house in Austin and rented it out, knowing that if we were unhappy with the FBI, we could have a place to land in Texas. Within a few weeks of looking, she found a job at Dell, with part of the deal a package that would cover our move back to Texas. We had a home to live in, a job, and expenses paid for; there was nothing else to do but for me to make that final decision on whether I really was going to leave the FBI, which would be the end of a lifetime dream.

  CHAPTER 46

  Resignation

  Despite a list of “cons” that greatly outnumbered the “pros,” I still had to do long hours of agonizing soul-searching to make the firm decision to leave. I asked my other agents about how they felt about their jobs. I received a number of private comments from agents that they were unhappy, that they missed their old professions, and that they now felt locked into being FBI agents since the pay ramps up quickly in the first five years and they are dependent on the relatively high salary, typically well over $100,000 per year, that more seasoned agents make. Their thoughts and support helped me reach the conclusion that I was not completely crazy for wanting to leave a job that I thought would be my ultimate dream come true. At the FBI Academy, the instructors continually reminded us that the FBI interview process is really for the first two years, which is a probationary period. The FBI has the right to terminate employment of any agents that are not performing adequately during that time period (firing becomes more difficult beyond the two-year probationary period). I had nearly flawless reviews and was well liked and respected by my superiors in San Diego. I had completed all of the new agent requirements. I had an excellent performance record and passed the FBI’s long-term interview with flying colors. But in my mind the interview worked both ways. And in some areas the FBI had received unacceptably low marks from my perspective.

  We decided to pull the trigger on our plan to get back to Texas. Jennifer formally accepted a job back in Austin. The time had arrived for me to give notice of my resignation. I stayed awake almost the entire night prior to informing my supervisor. Making things worse, my supervisor had gone for three weeks on vacation. I had wanted to talk to him face-to-face, but with the timing of Jennifer’s job, we could not afford to wait three weeks to do so. After envisioning an incredibly painful resignation conversation dozens of times throughout the night, the morning light finally came, and it was time to make the call. First I drove to the office and sat in my car. My hand was trembling and heart was racing. I felt sick at my stomach and sat staring at my cell phone for over an hour. Things would never be the same after this call. I would never achieve a lifetime dream again like joining the FBI. Once I left, that dream would be cold and dead. I could not help but keep mentally calling myself a quitter. I had to concentrate on the list of “cons” about the FBI, and think through my decision from a logical standpoint; if I had only relied on an emotional decision, I would not have been able to place that call. I felt like a rock star calling his agent saying, “I changed my mind, I’m not performing.” Or an astronaut calling NASA and saying, “On second thought, I don’t think going into space is for me.” Or the politician elected to a high office after a brutal campaign saying, “You know, I really don’t want to be a senator after all.” Despite feeling like a lunatic who might be making a huge mistake, I finally entered my supervisor’s telephone number, and clicked on the green “call” button to call it quits.

  My supervisor’s wife answered the call with a friendly “hello.” She informed me that her husband was out playing tennis, but she would take a message, and he would call me back. The pain I felt while waiting for the call back made me wish I was doing anything else; I would have preferred going through another defensive tactics class complete with bloody knuckle pushups and screaming instructors rather than face my supervisor with the news that I was leaving. Two nerve-wracking hours later, my supervisor called back and I was finally able to tell him that I was resigning. My supervisor was very gracious and understanding, and said that knowing me, he was certain that I had already thought through my decision carefully and that it was a personal decision. After hanging up the phone, I felt flooded with relief. No regrets. No remorse. A weight had been lifted. I felt overwhelming happiness and a sense of freedom that I had not felt since joining the FBI.

  Next, I informed my relief supervisor that I was resigning, and told him that I had already spoken with our normal supervisor. I had additional conversations with the some of the senior management in San Diego. Some gave me “tough sell” speeches and tried to get me to stay. They knew I had a flawless record and reputation. But my mind was made up, and they ultimately accepted my decision.

  One afternoon, the new SAC, Kevin Slatter, came down to my office area and wished me a happy birthday (which happened to occur just after I resigned), and told me that he heard that I was leaving. He was incredibly understanding and gracious; he wanted to know informally if there was anything that could have been done to keep me as an agent. I told him that the root cause of my unhappiness was my assignment to a violent crime squad, which I could not get away from. The FBI made assignments to squads strictly based on the current needs of the Bureau, but without regard for an agent’s background. If I had received an assignment that was more in line with my white collar and computing skills, I would have been able to make a more significant contribution to the Bureau, and I likely would have been happier. SAC Slatter and other senior managers seemed to really listen to my input. A few months after I left, I learned that the FBI changed their new agent assignment process so that new agents would be informed of their first type of assignment before setting foot in the FBI Academy. While this change may have been coincidence, I would like to think that in at least a small way I played a role in the FBI that would lead to more effective assignments for future agents, leading to happier careers and a better FBI.

  CHAPTER 47

  Last Hurrah

  Although I had provided two weeks’ notice that I was leaving the Bureau, I continued to be heavily utilized for FBI operations after I turned in my resignation. My last arrest occurred less than one week before my last day as an agent. For several months I had been working a complex case that involved a kidnapping plot that was devised by a former Secret Service agent. He was working with a man from Kentu
cky, the former boyfriend of a woman in San Diego. The overall plan they devised was to kidnap the woman while she was on vacation in Mexico using phony Mexican police. The fake Mexican cops would hold her on a trumped-up drug charge, and they would demand to have hundreds of thousands of dollars wired to them by the woman’s wealthy parents.

  My partner Mark and I had arrested the former Secret Service agent, and we had traveled to Kentucky to locate the other man and interview him. We wound up speaking with this man for many hours over the course of two days. We even arranged to have a polygraph test conducted for him. He had the ability to easily create explanations that concealed his true actions; if channeled correctly, he would have been considered by most to be an incredibly gifted, talented, and imaginative storyteller. If this man could have put his ideas down on paper as fiction, he could have become the next Stephen King or Tom Clancy. Unfortunately, we did not have sufficient backing from the prosecutor from the United States Attorney’s Office arrest him immediately, but we continued to monitor his location after we concluded our trip to Kentucky. Sure enough, he unwisely ventured to the San Diego vicinity, and we became concerned for the safety of the woman who had been the target of the original kidnapping plan. After a thorough review of the evidence in the case, including new information that we gained while in Kentucky, the United States Attorney’s Office backed our decision to arrest the man and charge him as part of a kidnapping conspiracy.