The Foreign Service Journal, October 2014

42 OCTOBER 2014 | THE FOREIGN SERVICE JOURNAL just quickly enough to see him smirk, and the RSO swears that he shot them a middle nger before scampering up the lad- der and into the now-gaping hole of the ceiling tiles. e monkey was loose, back into the bowels of the building. e RSOmessage contin- ued: “ e ground oor doors are locked down right now because there is a monkey trapped on the ground oor. Until further notice please enter/exit the building thru Post 2.” It was a full-blown crisis. Now we were getting sit reps. ere was discussion of standing up an embassy task force, setting up shifts. Questions raced through the mind of everyone in the coun- try teammeeting. Was this an ordinary monkey? It was smart enough to have made it into the most heavily forti ed building in all of Colombo. Maybe it had been trained? Maybe it was a spy monkey? Maybe it was a ying monkey—how else could it have gotten in? A Full-Blown Crisis By now it was late afternoon and everyone wondered if we should just send the sta home. e guards outside Post One had left the door open, vainly hoping that the monkey would see daylight and dart out. But by now he moved through the ventila- tion shafts. is guy was smart, and seemed to know where he was going. e GSO/RSO teamwas augmented with additional sta . Homemade monkey catchers were quickly assembled. Someone grabbed an extra-large, empty bag from the diplomatic pouch. Maybe they could corner him, and throw the bag over his head? But the ambassador was on leave and the country teamwas not sure that it was authorized to place mail bags over monkeys’ heads and conduct renditions. Washington wouldn’t be awake for hours, so no one was certain about the proper course of action. ankfully, the deputy chief of mis- sion jumped into the discussion. Find some bananas, he ordered; we will lure him out! While warehouse sta ran out to purchase bananas, the nurse cracked open the medical kit. We will have to spike themwith Valium, she said. He’ll grow tired, and then we can just scoop him up. Valiumwas passed around to other worried sta , as well, to reduce the stress. en another sit rep. e unthinkable had happened— the monkey had not only made it behind the hardline, he was nowmoving up into the classi ed area. is was clearly no ordi- nary monkey; espionage was now a very real concern. Try as they might, ripping out ceiling tile after ceiling tile and opening closets to pull wiring, no one could get ahead of this beast. As night fell on Colombo, everyone uneasily began to drift home. It was no use ghting him at night, we all knew that. Mean- while, Valium-laced bananas were strategically placed through- out the building. A hungry political o cer may have accidentally eaten one, but guards continued to place the rest of the bunch throughout the embassy as the sta anxiously awaited the dawn. With the new day, a local veterinarian was called in. e guard force managed to nd the creature once again as he scampered into one of the air ducts that led to the roof. ough it was barred from the outside, facilities maintenance managed to block his return path so that he could not make it back down the shaft. is might be the moment. A Crack Team Quickly, a crack team assembled to accompany the vet. RSO, Management, DAO, even Public A airs descended onto the scene. ey all trekked up to the roof with the vet, who was clearly nervous by being surrounded by such a large contingent of Americans armed with broomsticks, mailbags and bananas. Making it to the roof, they found the air shaft in question. ough it was dark inside, they could make out the ngers occasionally twirling the blades of the ventilation fan from the inside. e vet calmly opened his briefcase and removed his large The unthinkable had happened—the monkey had not only made it behind the hardline, he was now moving up into the classified area. At left, the veterinarian readies his tranquilizer gun. On previous page, the tranquilized monkey takes a breather at the opening of the air duct before making a daring escape from the waiting net. Christopher Teal