All we knew about Frank was that he worked for a market intelligence service provider beforehand and that he had some trouble with his lady boss, over some flawed analysis he was supposed to have produced. His excuse was that the brief he had been given was purposely designed for him to fail and tantamount to constructive dismissal. We also knew that he was having some problems with the landlord at his flat, but that is all we were allowed to know.
Frank was a thin, wisened guy, about 5.8" and 35 years of age. He spoke in slow monotones, paused to think about what you said before responding and was fastidiously organised and tidy. His demeanour was almost one of a depressed, mole like person. In fact you got the impression that Frank was quite special. Perhaps someone who had the qualities to have held much more significant roles elsewhere.
Frank was the man from Westminster. The man from MI5. One minute Frank was an architect building market segment models, comprising growth drivers and strategic views, the next minute Frank was a spy in the middle of executive conversations and exhibitions full of competitors. Later he would be upstairs having a cosy chat with the CEO of the day - which quite often than not excluded his real boss, the Marketing Director.
Frank had a model. Frank fueled this model, from the competitive intelligence he acquired. Assimilated, distilled and qualified, qualified, qualified.
Frank had clarity. Frank had focus. Frank had quality.
Frank was the man from MI5.