Kill on Command (23 page)

“Sean, my company has created an HR app that speeds things up quite a bit.  Paperwork used to take so long.  I have three items that need attention today.   The first is just to capture your personal information.  The second is a quick personality test.  It is timed and will take thirty minutes.  The last item is the Wonderlic.”

“No problem.  I love taking these things,” Sean answered.  “Please don’t let me turn in Brett Favre numbers on this thing,” he thought to himself.

“Great. Let’s get going on the personal information,” Hass said, gesturing to the iPad.  Sean started filling out the forms.  Everything Sean entered was appearing on a terminal back in Boston. The results would be available almost instantly.  Sean entered all of his data and handed the iPad back to Hass.  Hass closed out the screen and brought up the personality test.

“Sean, you have thirty minutes to complete this.  I will be at the far end of the table.  I will let you know when the time is up.” Hass had a second iPad that monitored Sean’s answers.

“Got it,” Sean said, as he dove into the test.  It was very different than what he had expected.  Most of the questions dealt with how he would react in emotionally-charged situations or with split-second decisions.  Others questions pressed him on his values and provided multiple courses of action based on a fictional scenario.  Some scenarios were relationship based and others workplace based.  The last few questions, asked him in different ways what he values most in his life - his independence - his freedom - his free will  - monetary rewards or fame.

“Done,” Sean said.  He finished six minutes early.  Hass was already up and walking towards him.

“Fantastic.  Let’s roll right into the Wonderlic.”  Hass handed Sean a pencil and a piece of blank white paper.  “Here’s a piece of scratch paper if you need it,” Hass said, as he called up the test.

“Thank you,” Sean said, taking the iPad.

“Twelve minutes. Fifty questions. The clock starts when you touch the screen.”

“Ready to go,” Sean said as he touched the screen and started the test.  He blazed through most of it but ran into a couple of speed bumps over the geometry questions.  He was able to answer every question with ten seconds to spare.

“Time!” Hass announced from across the room.  He took the iPad from Sean’s hand.

“Is there anything else I can answer regarding my background?”  Sean asked, standing and extending his hand.  Hass shook his hand.

“No.  I think I have everything I need.”

“How did I do?”  Sean asked.

“Well, it will take a few days for me to review everything.”

“You were looking at my answers as I took the tests,” Sean responded.

“How do you know that?”  Hass said, suddenly curious and at the same time surprised.

Sean gestured to the mirror at the end of the room.

“I could see your screen through the mirror.  I couldn’t make out everything, but I knew it was not Words with Friends,” Sean said, smiling.

Hass laughed.  He liked Sean.  He was very clever.  He knew Sean was going to be the perfect candidate for the program.  McFarland said there would be a small group of men that would respond exactly the way the tests and models predicted.   Sean, in his estimation, was one of them.

“Very clever and you are right, I am not a Words with Friends fan.”  He paused and reached into his pocket and handed Sean a $20.  “For your parking.  I saw the valet giving you a hard time.   I like the Jeep by the way.”

“Thank you and thank you for your time,” Sean said, as he walked to the door of the conference room.

“Thank you, Sean and we will talk soon.” 

They shook hands again and Sean headed down the hall towards the lobby.  Hass closed the door to the conference room and picked up his iPad.  Sean’s scores were already posted.  He scored a thirty-nine, which was very strong.  What it meant to McFarland was he was an exceptional candidate.  He would have the data behind the personality test shortly and would recap both the Pittsburgh and Detroit meetings with McFarland on Saturday morning.  Other agents were at the same time interviewing candidates across the country.  The pressure to get the program rolling was intense.

Sean walked out to the valet stand and handed off his ticket.  The valet ran to get his Jeep.  Sean stood on the curb.  He wasn’t going to try and make small talk with the other valet.  He pulled out his iPhone, turned it back on and sent a text to Brian.

SEAN: I think it got it.

BRIAN:  Got what?  You at the Dr?

SEAN:  The job.  I had a good interview.

BRIAN:  Good news!  Let’s grab a beer later.

SEAN:  First round on me.

The valet pulled up with the Jeep and Sean gave the guy a dollar.  If he had a handful of pennies in his pocket, he would have preferred that.  “Another ten years and they will be begging to drive this Jeep. It will be a real classic then,” he thought to himself.  He did feel good about the interview.  He was certain he was going to get an offer.

Hass was certain he would too.

Hass left the hotel in a cab and headed to the airport, where he hopped on a private plane for a meeting with Oscar Pasco in Detroit. 

Hass arrived in Detroit shortly before 4 P.M.  A driver in a Town Car met him at the airport and drove him downtown to the Westin Cadillac Book.  He had booked a room simply to get his notes together before meeting Pasco.  Like the meeting in Pittsburgh, he had a conference room reserved for the testing.  Hass went down to the lobby at 7:15 with the goal of spotting Pasco when he came in.  He had his picture from the DMV and an old shot from Facebook.

The appointed time, 7:30 came and went.  Pasco did not show.  Hass was slightly upset.  He had wasted half a day, a day that could have been spent talking to another candidate.  It was well past 8 P.M. when Hass got up to head back up to his room and then back to Boston, when he saw Oscar Pasco come through the revolving doors of the Westin.  He looked exactly like he sounded on the phone.  He was 5’10” and very pale.  He wore his jet black hair combed straight back.  He really hadn’t bothered to get cleaned up for the meeting.  He had on black pants, a red shirt, which was un-tucked, with a black jacket over the shirt.  Hass approached Oscar Pasco and extended his hand. Thomas Hass was back to being Walter Mathis again.  Why change an alias?  Especially, when it worked so well.

“Mr. Pasco. I’m Walter Mathis.” 

Pasco shook his hand.

“Hi,” he responded.

Hass noticed the strong smell of smoke emanating from Pasco.

“Thanks for meeting me.  Let’s find a seat and talk.  I have a handful of questions and a couple of tests for you.”  They sat down and Hass started the interview.  Oscar seemed anxious, but the reason wasn’t the interview.  He just wanted to get back to the casino.

“Tests?  Why?”  Oscar asked, realizing that he was not getting back to the tables anytime soon.

“Why?  Mr. Pasco, we really want to get a good handle on people we are offering six figure salaries to.  That’s why,” Hass answered sharply.

“OK.  This going to take long?”

“Mr. Pasco, where are you currently working?”  Hass asked, ignoring Oscar’s response.

“I am between things,” Oscar replied.  His legs were crossed and his arm was over the back of the sofa.

Hass made a couple notes that were more about the attitude than the answers.

“How long were you with Merrill Lynch?”

“Five years.”

“Why did you leave?”
 

“I was fired,” Oscar replied with a cocky, “I don’t give a shit
look.”

“Why?”

“Integrity issues,” Oscar answered, without any hesitation.

Hass made a note. 

“Just a couple more questions and then I would like for you to take a couple of tests and fill out a form for HR.”

“Fine,” Oscar answered.  He was really getting tired of this.  He really didn’t think he had a chance to get this job.  Since Merrill Lynch had fired him and he had lost his brokerage license, nobody wanted to hire him.

“What is your favorite book?” Hass asked, while twirling the pencil between his fingers.  He knew the question would piss off Pasco and had looked forward to asking it.

“My favorite book?  Are you kidding?” Oscar answered, making a face like he had just taken a sip of seawater.

“No.  I am not kidding.”

“I don’t have a favorite book,” Oscar replied.

“Surely they made you read at the University of Michigan?”  Hass replied.

“I’m glad you Googled me, Mr. Mathis.” 

“Well, you didn’t provide a resume.”

Pasco did not respond.

“I’ll take any book.  Just give me one,” Hass said, pushing it.

“I read a chapter of this Harlequin romance in a bookstore. I can’t remember the title.  I think there was a pirate on the cover.”

“I guess that’s about as close as we are going to get,” Hass replied, as he stood.  Oscar remained seated.

“Where are you going?”  Oscar demanded.

“I reserved a conference room for you to take the tests.”

“I’ll take them here.”

“Mr. Pasco, I have two timed tests for you to take.  I don’t think the lobby is where we will get your best thinking.”

“I’ll do it here.”

Hass was done with this guy.

“Fine.  The first thing I need is for you to fill out a couple of forms,” he said handing Oscar the iPad.  Oscar filled out the required information and handed back the iPad.  Hass hit a couple of keys and returned the iPad to Oscar.

“This is a timed personality test.  You have thirty minutes.”  Oscar looked at the iPad and started flying through the test.  He finished in twenty minutes. 

“Here,” he said, handing the iPad back to Hass.  Hass hit another few keys, then gave Oscar the iPad back for the last test.

“Mr. Pasco, this is a Wonderlic.  Do you want any scratch paper?”

‘No.”
 

“It’s fifty
questions . . . “

“Yeah, I know.  Twelve minutes. Let’s get going.”

“The timer starts when you touch the screen,” Hass said as he sat back down.  Oscar flew through this test as well.  He finished with a minute left and handed the iPad to Hass.

“Anything else?”  Oscar asked, standing.

“No.  Thank you for your time,” Hass said, extending his hand.

“You know, the guy on the phone promised me a dinner.”

“He did?”  Hass said, hoping Oscar would have forgotten.

“Yeah.”

“Well, we can grab a bite right here in the hotel,” Hass said, gesturing towards the restaurant.

“I tell you what. I don’t think you really want to have dinner.  Why don’t you just give me the money you would have spent on my dinner?”  It was more of a demand than anything else.

“Excuse me?”  Hass was shocked.  He knew people like Oscar Pasco existed. He had just never met one and now hoped he never would again.

“Yeah, just give me the cash,” Oscar said, looking right into Hass’ eyes.