Watching "Safe House" reminded me of something a savvy girlfriend once said to me: "When a guy tells you that his top-secret real job is working for the CIA, get out of the relationship as fast as you can." Not because of the obvious risks such a job may involve, she said, but because "the guy is a big fat liar nut-job." Oh, that's why.
Apparently, it's only in movies such as "Safe House" (released in Japan as "Dangerous Run") that a handsome man with perfect abs suddenly hands his gorgeous girlfriend a wad of cash and tells her to hotfoot it to "Paris, France" because he works for an agency named with three letters, the first letter being C, and he's in immediate danger and doesn't want her to get involved.
And then this gorgeous chick (who happens to be French) breaks down and starts sobbing and asks if he loves her in a terrific accent. And the scene plays out on a station platform, which is the go-to venue for moments of CIA-or-similar-agency-imbued personal confessions followed by wrenching goodbyes (see "Salt," "The Good Shepherd," or "Mission Impossible").