Now, if that does sound ruthless, well,
often ruthless is what keeps you alive in those kinds of situations.
What's it really like to work undercover?
How do you approach each day
knowing that your safety depends upon living a lie?
The recently-launched Nail Bomber: Manhunt
tells the true story of how an undercover agent
infiltrates the BNP to help catch a far-right extremist
responsible for a series of attacks.
And, with that in mind, we spoke to somebody else
who's lived undercover.
Neil Woods is a former police officer
who spent 13 years infiltrating
some of Britain's most dangerous drug-dealing gangs.
In this interview,
you'll hear about what it's really like to work undercover:
not just the work itself, but the gruelling day-to-day reality
of pretending to be a different person.
The kind of undercover work that I did,
I couldn't tell anybody, and it was made very clear to me.
You see, I investigated drugs offences
and that's where corruption comes from,
from the illicit drugs markets.
You can imagine how careful I had to be at home.
It was made clear to me constantly and right from the outset
that I cannot tell anybody
because there are too many ears.
So that made it quite a lonely place to be.
I couldn't tell my family or friends what I was doing.
Well, in preparing yourself mentally to work undercover,
you have to remember that you're not an actor.
And, if you try and act a role when you are undercover,
then you will fail.
So you have to be a different version of yourself
and, in so doing, you have to understand the kind of environment
to which you are going.
As an undercover officer,
you are, first and foremost, manipulative.
You can listen to people's problems,
the things that drive them, the things that move them
or the things that have hurt them.
You have to use whatever information
you can get about people to manipulate them
and, essentially, get them to do what you want.
Now, if that does sound ruthless, well,
often ruthlessness is what keeps you alive
in those kinds of situations.
Did I make friends with people?
They certainly believed I was a friend.
They believed I was a good friend.
From my point of view, obviously I had a different perspective,
but that's not to say I didn't learn to like people.
But, essentially, I was always intending to hurt them
right from the outset.
So, that changes, really, what friendship can be.
In terms of practical preparation for undercover work,
it's a matter of understanding one's role
but, also,
at the start of a day, checking oneself to know that
you appear correct.
Even simple things like
you don't have something stupid in your pocket
that could betray you if you were searched.
There are many moments,
particularly at the beginning of an operation,
where people are suspicious of you.
You know. Where have you come from?
Why have I not met you before?
Have you just landed from another planet?
You know, you need to have all of the answers ready,
but then you have this peculiar
situation where you don't
spoon-feed someone your background, your legend.
There's nothing more suspicious than
suddenly arriving in a group of people
and you're keen to tell everyone where you're from
and why you're there.
Any legend has to be extracted from you
with great resistance.
Am I the kind of person who can deal with stress calmly?
Well, I used to be. Yes, I did.
And I remember one of the first times
that I almost died working undercover.
A secret camera had been found
and it was quite clear to these very dangerous dealers
that I wasn't what I appeared to be.
And they chased me in a car trying to kill me with this car.
And I remember thinking that day:
"I feel great."
"I do. I feel great. I feel on top of the world."
And I remember feeling quite smug and pleased with myself,
thinking to myself that: "Wow, I'm one of those people."
"I'm one of these people who can deal with stuff like that."
"I can still do my job. I can record my evidence."
"I can think clearly."
But it can be an illusion,
this supposed tolerance to stress,
because, as the years went on, it got more and more difficult
and the strain on my body
became more obvious.
I had all sorts of health difficulties,
a feeling of exhaustion,
but I just carried on doing the work over and over.
I am diagnosed with chronic PTSD,
so, as I still, I believe, for the most part,
appear calm a lot of the time,
I have moments of the most extreme anxiety
and profound guilt.
And that is something that I have to manage
because it's not going to go away.
I have had extraordinary moments of guilt
during my time working undercover,
particularly at the conclusion of operations where vulnerable people
that I've manipulated have got caught up in the net
and, essentially, more harm has been caused to them.
One person who was a problematic heroin user,
really, he needed help.
But what I did to him is manipulate him
to a point where he thought I was his one friend in the world,
the one person that he could talk to,
and my betrayal,
from his point of view, my betrayal of him was the final straw
and, when he was in police custody, he became suicidal
and he had to be on minute-to-minute watch
to make sure that he didn't succeed in killing himself.
Now, that's harm I've caused to him.
That's harm I caused.
And I had to justify that to myself
because, from my point of view at that time,
the end justified the means.
Which, again, is an incredibly ruthless way of looking at things,
but my undercover work was
around drug policy
and that's the reality of drugs policing.
It's ruthless.
For another take on undercover work,
remember to check out Nail Bomber: Manhunt
on Netflix UK and Ireland now.