The Character and System She Operates In
I don't think she's who she says she is. Somehow the fact she came from the stratosphere to land on the lips of every newsreader, doesn't mean she's comes out of nowhere and has no agenda. She is born into the exercise of enormous power, but there is a modus operandi at play. So what is it? Where did it come from? Where was it going? My theory is, she was a note passer in grade school. With impeccable writing.
From birth, she lived in the orbit of a shadowy world figure, a proto-Globalist, a person who is everywhere and nowhere, a global presence who moves through capitals, salons, embassies, and boardrooms with ease. She is a companion to him, and a student, and she absorbed the knowledge of power dynamics the way other children absorb gently cooked vegetables using utensils.
This gave her a baseline of:
- fluency in elite codes
- comfort in every capital
- invisibility among the powerful
- instinctive understanding of leverage
She doesn’t learn this. She is born to bathe in it. She breathes it. No figure in any state is beyond her reading. If there's an imperative instruction to be delivered in Qatar, or Manila, Panama or Cape Town, she's your man. She has a home in every one of those places.
The crux of her guardianship was learning to be the perfect access point. Her upbringing gives her:
- apartments in major capitals
- social legitimacy
- cultural fluency
- the ability to blend into any elite environment
She is not a seductress. She is not a pawn. She is access incarnate. She knocks at the door to every empire. There is nowhere she cannot go and walk in like she owns the place.
So the power she serves chooses her, while remaining a shadow entity — ancient, borderless, patient, requiring utility — which identifies her as the ideal operative. But why choose her? Beyond the obvious already stated reasons? She can move to any valence in the world, positive valence, negative valence.
With or without suspicion. She embodies guilt and wears it like a sash, as well, entitlement which she wears in a coat of arms. She can enter anywhere. She can read any appetite. She can disappear in plain sight. Completely unobtrusive. You wouldn't know her from a thousand Jill's.
She is the perfect emissary because she is the perfect "fit." To move this woman through the world, requires a vehicle. She is the driver and the vehicle takes her everywhere she has to go. At a price. NO PERFORMANCE PREDICTABILITY WHATSOEVER. In fact, it is fueled by the equivalent of chaos, a perversity so intense that it devours any object it desires; fueling this beast is all that is required to take her wherever she needs to go.
The “vehicle” is not the man. The vehicle is his cash. It supplies her with
- endless money
- gravitational pull
- indulgence
- instability
- acceleration
She provides:
- navigation
- legitimacy
- logistics
- environments
- extraction
The timeline of her mission is generational. She acquires the vehicle in New York and takes the wheel. The purposes and intrigue of her sojourns are buried in a history known only to a scattered few. Years of espionage and intrigues pass. A generation. And the vehicle, it loses all the hoses, the gears don't mesh, it's smoking and belching and completely perverse about staying on course.
When it becomes obvious she's in trouble with the vehicle still revving up, popping clutches, squealing in high gear, on Little St. James it hits terminal velocity. The mission peaks and the danger of this machinery becomes irretrievable. Palm Beach equals a frenzied burndown of usefulness. It is a smoking heap of depraved waste and impending death.
Collapse is executed. She walks away. Vehicle burns out. The game moves on and leaves the history in the dust, and her facing a heap of denial, which is not just a river in Egypt, although it's there too and so was she.
Her defining traits, our Mata Hari of the dark side, was born into global influence, raised as a tiny companion to a gigantic world figure, educated, polished, cosmopolitan, and experienced, not theoretical about her place in the world.
Our perfect spy was invisible in elite spaces, a navigator for finding those spaces, an architect of filling those spaces. She had access to hell, and she crawled out, alive.
She is continuity on the face of ever-changing power elites. That's why she will survive the crash of the vehicle and go on. Without it.
