Chapter 3: The Wheels of Bureaucracy

Darren awoke to the insistent ringing of his doorbell. Groggily, he stumbled to the intercom, his head pounding from last night's ill-advised drinking session. The digital clock on his nightstand read 7:17 AM.

"Darren? It's Isabelle Dumont from DHR. Can we talk?"

Darren recognized the voice of the veteran HR officer he'd known since his early days at UNHCR. He buzzed her up, hastily throwing on a wrinkled shirt and splashing water on his face. Isabelle, a woman in her fifties with graying hair and kind eyes, entered Darren's apartment with a furtive glance over her shoulder. Her usual professional demeanor was tinged with visible concern.

"Darren, I shouldn't be here," she began in a hushed tone, settling on his couch. "But I felt I had to warn you. The IGO has opened an investigation into your conduct."

Darren's stomach churned, not from surprise, but from the realization that the bureaucratic machine was moving faster than he'd anticipated. "I had a feeling this was coming," he said, running a hand through his disheveled hair. "Henrik mentioned it yesterday, but I didn't think it would happen so quickly."

Isabelle's eyebrows rose. "Henrik told you? Well, that explains why you don't seem as shocked as I expected." She leaned forward, her voice barely above a whisper. "Listen, Darren. I've seen how these things go. I know you're one of the good ones – genuinely committed to the refugee cause, unlike some others who are just here for the career. That's why I'm risking my own position to give you more details."

Darren sat down heavily in a chair opposite Isabelle, the weight of the situation pressing down on him. "I appreciate that, Isabelle. Really. What can you tell me?"

"They'll ask you for an interview. My advice? Don't do it. Anything you say will be used against you. The IGO... they're not interested in the full picture. They won't gather evidence that could weaken their case against you, and they certainly won't accept witnesses in your favor."

Darren leaned back, his mind racing. He'd always believed in the UN's mission, in its potential to do good. But now, faced with the reality of its internal workings, he felt a deep sense of disillusionment washing over him. "But if I don't cooperate, won't that make me look guilty?"

Isabelle shook her head. "In their eyes, you're already guilty. They're just looking for you to incriminate yourself further. Trust me, Darren, I've seen this play out before."

She stood up, smoothing her skirt. "I have to go. Officially, I was never here, understand? But I couldn't stand by and watch them railroad you without at least giving you a warning."

As she reached the door, Isabelle turned back. "Be careful, Darren. And... good luck."

After Isabelle left, Darren collapsed back onto his couch, his mind a whirlwind of thoughts. The bureaucratic machine he had navigated for years now loomed before him like a labyrinth, with the IGO as its fearsome Minotaur. He was grateful for Isabelle's risk in warning him, but her words had only deepened his sense of isolation and dread.

A text from Zara pulled him from his ruminations: "Turn on CNN. Now."

He flicked on the TV to see a familiar face: Filippo Grandi, the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees, was addressing the press. Darren's heart sank as he listened to Grandi's carefully worded statement, distancing the UNHCR from Darren's actions.

As Grandi finished his statement, journalists clamored for attention. The questions flew fast and furious, each one driving home the gravity of Darren's situation. He watched, a mix of fascination and horror gripping him, as his case became a global talking point.

Darren's phone buzzed incessantly with notifications. He watched in a mix of awe and trepidation as the story unfolded in real-time across his screens. 

Latvian news outlet Delfi.lv had a breaking news banner: "Latvian-Born UN Official at Center of Religious Controversy." The article delved into Darren's background, mentioning his Latvian heritage and speculating on how this might affect Latvia's relationship with the UN.

Meanwhile, Russian state media took a different angle. Russia Today's headline read: "UN Corruption Exposed: Anti-Religious Bias in 'Neutral' Organization?" The article used Darren's case as a springboard to criticize the UN's alleged Western bias.

Darren's mind reeled as he saw his name and face plastered across international news outlets. The reality of his situation hit him with full force. This wasn't just about his career anymore; it was about geopolitics, religious freedom, and the very nature of free speech in international organizations.

As he pondered his next move, Darren's phone buzzed again. This time, it was an email from the IGO:

From: IGO@unhcr.org

Subject: Case INV/2023/042 - Request for Interview

Date: October 16, 2023, 10:30 AM CET

Dear Mr. Melvik,

The Inspector General's Office (IGO) is conducting an investigation into allegations of misconduct related to your social media activities. You are requested to attend an interview on October 18, 2023 at 2:00 PM CET in Room 2B, UNHCR Headquarters, Geneva.

You have the right to be accompanied by another staff member or former staff member for moral support. Please note that this person cannot be a supervisor or anyone involved in the investigation.

Regards,

Elisabeth Salum

Associate Legal Officer, IGO

Darren's mind raced, Isabelle's warning echoing in his thoughts. Who could he ask to accompany him? Most of his colleagues were avoiding him like the plague. Then he remembered Thomas, a former UNHCR employee who had left to work for Médecins Sans Frontières. Thomas had always been level-headed and discreet. Darren sent him a message, hoping he'd agree to help.

As he pondered his next move, Darren's phone buzzed again. This time, it was a WhatsApp message from an unfamiliar number:

"Mr. Melvik, this is David Kaye, former UN Special Rapporteur on Freedom of Opinion and Expression. I've been following your case closely. Would you be willing to discuss the implications for free speech in international organizations?"

Darren stared at the message in disbelief. David Kaye? The renowned expert on freedom of expression who had served as UN Special Rapporteur? He quickly googled recent news and found that Kaye had indeed been commenting on his case, framing it as a concerning example of potential overreach in regulating UN employees' personal expression.

As he debated how to respond, another email popped up in his inbox. This one was from António Guterres, the UN Secretary-General himself:

From: sg@un.org

Subject: Urgent Meeting Request

Date: October 16, 2023, 11:45 AM CET

Dear Mr. Melvik,

In light of recent events, I request your presence for a confidential meeting tomorrow at 10:00 AM in my office at UN Headquarters, New York.

Given the sensitive nature of this matter, please do not disclose this meeting to anyone. Travel arrangements will be made on your behalf.

Regards,

António Guterres

Secretary-General of the United Nations

Darren read the email three times, his mind reeling. The Secretary-General wanted to meet him personally? This was unprecedented. What could Guterres possibly want to discuss that couldn't be handled through official channels?

As Darren began to pack for the unexpected trip to New York, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was being swept up in events far beyond his control. The bureaucratic machine of the UN, usually so slow and ponderous, had sprung to life with alarming speed and force.

Little did he know that this meeting would set in motion a chain of events that would shake the very foundations of the organization he had once been so proud to serve. As he zipped up his suitcase, Darren felt like a character in a Kafka novel, trapped in a labyrinthine system he no longer understood, unsure of his crime or his fate.

The wheels of bureaucracy were turning, and Darren Melvik was caught in their inexorable grind.