I Promised that I'd tell you A Story.

Once upon a time there was a young and overly-ambitious young man who wanted to be successful at something so badly he learned to lie like none other. His name was Jack. He had the charm, on which they based the saying "He could charm the birds down out of the trees." He was a snappy dresser and a Master of Personal Revisionist History.

For all intents and purposes, Jack’s moral governor was not properly aligned. He was smart as a whip and clever and resourceful and mostly, completely lacking in basic, fundamental integrity. This is not to say that he wasn’t capable of insane displays of generosity when given the opportunity. He could be totally crazy that way. This is not as much a character indictment as it is a statement of truth.

Somehow, through a mysterious and circuitous chain of events that involved global travel, cruise lines, aviation and photography, Jack found himself in a position of being of value to his country by virtue of the vast amount of information he had amassed in his head.

Truth be told, this ambitious information pioneer didn't exactly find himself there all by himself. His path to service was paved with something about something and lying to NASA and getting hired and then avoiding federal prosecution. It was ugly. His craftiness had landed him in a really tight spot.
 
(Only for the sake of some back story, what follows is the way that the NASA deal ended:

The wife in this story was named Maggie (Magdelene Rose O'Shaughnessey) and she was about as innocent as a Midwest girl in 1959 would be. She had just traded in her big old Irish-Catholic, family-rich life in the Strawberry Hill section of Kansas City for a man who swept her off her feet with the promise of his potential and the dream of the life they would build together. She thought he was handsome and he had a great head of hair. He was mysterious and used words she didn't yet know, what girl didn’t totally fall for that kind of intrigue?

He had established himself as a solid aviation photographer, historian and information man. He just reeked of promise. He had recently been hired by NASA and their future together was, clearly, so bright. They loaded everything they had in her father's old car and moved to Cape Caneveral, Florida. (Hired by NASA! This was the Top of the Cool Job Food Chain in 1960. It got no cooler than that.)

Not long into their stay in Florida, while still in the hotel that was their home before they found their house, this wife answered a knock on the door to find a military general - or something with stars - standing on her porch. He told her to get her jacket and her purse because she had to take a meeting.

She got to ride in a limousine for the first time in her life. They took her to a big meeting room, in an even bigger, anonymous building, where some apparently powerful and absolutely humorless men sat at a silly-huge table with nothing but an envelope sitting on it. This seemed like over-kill cubed and made her way uneasy.

Once settled around this inordinately huge table, the men in uniforms took turns telling the story of a man who was in deep trouble, for what could be a long time, because he’d lied about some pretty important things and tricked them. They weren't happy. 

She said it smelled like a library that had just been scrubbed to within an inch of it's life with Pine Sol and at some point she looked down and realized that she was still wearing this ivory and lavender apron she got from Aunt Ellie at her wedding shower. 

They used words like "Sociopathic, insidious" and "nefarious." These men said that he was not who she thought he was and that his ability to tell such convincing lies and keep such deep secrets made them fearful of any future she may forge with him. Nothing in her life had prepared her for this moment… for this kind of deception.

They handed her the envelope that had been sitting on the table and told her the limo driver would help her pack because they were flying her back home to her parents. They said that they would arrange for the annulment of her marriage. 

She considered their generous offer for quite some time, but acquiesced to her family priest who reminded her that it's really impossible to obtain a divorce unless you can live without the love of your unforgiving God. God had a pretty strict "No Divorce" policy in the 60's and Maggie had not been comfortable with taking the Suits up on their generous offer - she wouldn’t go back to save face.

She had oversold Jack to her family because she was a muse and hopeful that way. She believed in the potential and payed little heed to reality. They had essentially been sponsored by her family from the start of their union, she ran damage control and kept her head down.

Almost a year later, Jack showed back up to reclaim his life and offered no good explanations as to where he had been or why. She had been counseled to offer no resistance and make no inquisitions, so she complied.)
 
He had a 10 year history of this appearing and disappearing routine, and during this time - somehow - amassed a small (really, like, teeny weeny) fortune. He was able to build a pretty big information empire with this little fortune, but he always seemed to answer to an unknown and unidentifiable Man.

The home they cultivated was never without someone from another country, The Slavians and French spoke broken English. They were Hungarians, Brits, Irish, Japanese, Scottish and Swiss, usually. They talked for hours, over long and rich meals ending in expensive liquors and Cuban cigars. 

It was early in the Camelot Years and the country was confident and hopeful. The lines that separated patriotism and subversion weren’t so clearly defined. Our country needed inquiring minds in special studies – aviation was just one of them. 

It’s not unreasonable to think that he may have not been lying.

Right before their first baby was born they had a ginormous fight about Cuban currency and cigars she found in a closet.
 
She always said that The Bay of Pigs is where it all began.
 
There's your story.
Now git.