From Fitzroy's Private Diary (Extract 157)

I’m not a man to make New Year’s resolutions. The calendar date is entirely arbitrary. I’m aware that for many people the festivities of Christmas and the New Year make them reassess the more mundane aspects of their lives. My life is never mundane. Neither is Yuletide necessarily a time of rest for me, as I often have to deal with people in more intimate terms than I do for the rest of the year. Appearing to be a normal, handsome, charming, chap of wit and intellect is quite a challenge for me.

However, the one exception to this is that on the first of each new year I tend to take a breath and take stock of the world. Primarily I ask:

1)    Is the world going to hell in a handbasket?

2)    Am I expected to do anything about it?

3)    Can I do anything about it, whether I’m expected to or not?

It’s not unlike my yearly meeting with my business manager. I oversee my properties and my small estate from a distance. I like to drop in now and then, but on the whole, I have a trusted manager who understands my way of doing things.

The answer to question one is invariably, yes, the world is going to hell in a handbasket. It is, after all, as full of malicious, narcissistic, self-motivated, power-hungry individuals as it is full of the nicer elements of humanity. Probably more so, and yes, I also agree that most of them are a disgrace to my own gender.

I’m often expected to do something about it, in particular corners of the world. I don’t claim to ever save the world, but I contribute, I hope, to his Imperial Majesty’s attempts to bring peace to the Empire. Occasionally, I remove unpleasant individuals from any unpleasantness they are undertaking, but more often that not, I aspire to render a number of them null and void by setting them at each other’s throats; the spy equivalent of a game of chess. This is the most fun to be had in the service - outside of a lady’s bedchamber.

I prefer working on a long leash. In other words, to be given a set of aims to achieve, and to be allowed to achieve them as I see fit. Morley, being a traditional army man, likes to be more hands on. The problem here is that although he is not unintelligent, he thinks in blunt terms. He’s used to marching forward, attacking, and marching back while defending. The game of cloaks and shadows is much more subtle. I’m attempting to train him, but we’re often at loggerheads. Not least because he considers his higher rank of utmost importance in our discussions. Whereas, spies, like myself, do value the chain of command - to a certain degree, but we’re generally dismissive of rank in individuals. It’s more about what you can actually do rather than the number of pips on your collar. I suppose I may feel differently if I ever survive to the rank of Colonel, but I doubt it. That I’m almost always correct means that such opinion unlikely to change.

With regard to questions two and three, whether there is anything I can do about it, with or without being tasked, occupies a lot of my time. Although I often do spectacular things, more than most in my profession, it remains true that the majority of a spy’s time in the field comes down to watching, evaluating, cultivating sources, and obtaining information. More and more intelligence is being passed back to headquarters for analysis, making us little more than glorified reporters, but I’m old fashioned enough to enjoy putting information together when I’m in the field, and acting on it.

I am, as ever, fond of the mantra, ‘act now and seek permission later’.

I suspect the current year will bring me much action. This makes me sad for my fellow man (and woman), but also, on a more personal level, quite excited, and an excited Fitzroy is an awesome thing to behold.