“You don’t keep secrets by telling them to ten governmental agencies and five congressional committees. Hell, Den, those guys would tell a reporter everything they knew if they could get even the slightest personal advantage from it.
“And that’s not all. Lines of communication are confused. The connections between authority and responsibility are vague. Who reports to who?” Teddy asked without expecting an answer. “Who decides what projects are to be pursued? The Defense Department? Those wimps at State? Damned politicians.”
Den had heard it all before. It was a common subject in CIA casual conversation. There may have been some truth to the complaints. On the other hand, they may have been based on nothing more than the Belt Line bureaucrat’s nightmarish fear of losing turf.
“And that stupid Executive Order 12333,” Teddy said as he blew another smoke ring and carefully watched for Den’s reaction. “Isn’t that one for the books?” Then he was silent. Den knew Executive Order 12333 forbade CIA involvement in assassinations and he also knew Teddy was waiting for a response.
Again, Den’s comment was non-committal. “Twelve-three-three-three is one of the rules of the game and I suppose we have to live with it,” he said. But he thought: “I wish Smith would get to the point.”
“Do you really think so?” Teddy asked. “Let me ask you a question, Den. Suppose someone high up in the Agency - I mean very high up in the Agency - asked you to develop a plan calculated to cause the death of a person not only antagonistic to our national interests, but, to use that hard-to-define phrase, ‘a clear and present danger.’ Suppose you were told you would he officially disowned and castigated if your plan ever came to light. You could expect no help or support from anyone. What would you do?”
Teddy immediately held up his hand, silencing any answer Den might make, and added, “Let me make my proposition more concrete. If it was 1938 and Executive Order 12333 was in effect, would you create and execute an unofficial and unauthorized plan designed to kill, say, Adolf Hitler?”
“Now there’s a loaded question if I ever heard one,” Den thought. “Well, Teddy expects an answer and I’ll give him one.” Aloud he said: “Only the silliest academic would answer that one in the negative. A tougher question is: If it were 1928, when Hitler was nothing more than the leader of a small super-nationalistic German socialist political party, would I plan and carry out his assassination?”
The friendly, pleasant face Teddy Smith presented to the world seemed to erode. His expression appeared to harden and his eyes, without any movement, were fixed on Den’s face. “If not in 1928,” he asked, “How about in 1930? How about in 1932? ‘34? ‘36?”
“Is assassination appropriate only after an enemy has attacked us? Admiral Isoroku Yamamoto planned Pearl Harbor. We killed him in April of 1943. We discovered his flight plans and we sent a group of fighters to shoot him out of the sky. Do you know we had to go to the President of the United States to get the go-ahead to shoot him down? We were at war, Den, a war for our survival - and this was long before the 12333 Order.
“We had no CIA and we had no OSS when World War II began. Today we have a much more extensive intelligence community. We are capable of uncovering the very early development of growing and serious threats to our country. It’s a rapidly changing world. Can it be said we have not only the right, but the duty to perform pre-emptive strikes?” Teddy paused for only a few seconds before adding: “You served in the Second Gulf War, didn’t you?”
Den didn’t answer. Of course, he knew Gulf War II was a preemptive strike. He saw the logic of Teddy’s argument. How many millions of people were killed because of Hitler and Mussolini and Tojo? More recently, how many Southeast Asians were slaughtered in the killing fields of Pol Pot? Still more recently, would an assassination have avoided 3000 deaths on September 11th?
Teddy’s question, Den began to suspect, was not a part of a mere casual conversation. Teddy had hinted at the presence of people inside the CIA structure who were dissatisfied with Agency policies limiting their abilities to act. Slowly, the light began to dawn. “This guy is in the Projects Branch. He plans clandestine operations. He is suggesting the possibility of assassinations planned secretly within the Central Intelligence Agency. He is asking me to join the group.”
Part of Den’s brain told him to refuse Teddy’s overture. Den entered the CIA for covert field work. Sitting behind a desk in the Projects Branch and planning the logistics or even the mechanism for killing some foreign politician or head man in some terrorist organization held little appeal. His immediate reaction to Teddy Smith’s unspoken invitation was negative.
By refusing the offer, Den would be rejecting an invitation from the people Teddy described as “high up in the Agency”. Rejection would limit his future in the CIA, but such a probability was not a factor in his considerations. He had already planned to resign.
Another part of Den’s brain told him to consider Teddy’s as yet undisclosed proposition. If the nation’s intelligence services uncovered a serious threat requiring drastic and direct action, should ‘policy’ require inaction? In a world of terrorists willing to commit suicide by flying airplanes into buildings, atomic explosives that can be carried in suitcases and deadly disease that can be poured into water systems, should ‘policy’ tell us we must wait for disaster before striking?
Den decided to postpone any immediate decision. He would wait to see if he had accurately analyzed the reason for Teddy’s interview. That meant he had to give the answer Teddy wanted. Den returned Teddy’s unwavering gaze. “If we were sure one of our enemies represented a real danger to the country, I wouldn’t hesitate for a moment. I’d work out a plan to kill the son-of-a-bitch.”
That was what Teddy wanted to hear. He quietly speculated for a few moments and then made his decision. “I know your record,” he began. “You’ve undertaken some dangerous missions for your country. You’ve been shot at and you’ve been wounded. You are a patriot. Now, I’m going to tell you things. You’re not going to remember any of them. This conversation never took place.”
Teddy waited, looking down at his desk. He wanted to give Den a good opportunity to object before proceeding. When he looked up, he saw Den ever so slightly nod his head. Confirming Den’s guess, Teddy explained the reason for the interview.
Over the years, some men inside the Central Intelligence Agency had become increasingly alarmed by policies and regulation imposed by college professors and politicians who had no true understanding of the dangers of international threats. A group of CIA officials considered the changes in Agency authorities and objectives to border on the suicidal.
A few of them, Teddy confided, decided to disregard policies that had little application to the kinds of dangers faced in today’s world. Teddy described those men as a closely-knit group of patriots, some of them occupying the highest of positions in the Central Intelligence Agency. Some of them were part of the Directorate of Operations - the Clandestine Service. Others were inside other Agency Directorates and in their Branches and subsections. Teddy admitted he could only guess who they might be.
These men, Teddy explained, believed there were circumstances demanding the assassination of people who represented growing threats to the country. They did not look for any kind of authorizations for their programs calling for the killing of our enemies. Teddy emphasized how very careful they were in determining when an assassination became necessary.
“These men consider themselves to be the shield of the Republic,” Teddy said. “They call themselves ‘Aegis’. Clandestine Services does not know they exist’. No one
