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In Search of Enemies - A CIA Story - John Stockwell

In Search of Enemies - A CIA Story - John Stockwell

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IN SEARCH OF ENEMIES<br />

Potts was in early the day <strong>of</strong> the meeting. I soon had the charts<br />

propped against the c<strong>of</strong>fee table and chairs so he could see them.<br />

Potts looked them over slowly .. I admired them as he went. Then it<br />

happened. Potts decided to change one <strong>of</strong> the lines on the "Accomplishments"<br />

board. And he spotted a typographical error. "We can't<br />

say that," he declared. "It doesn't look right. I thought I told<br />

you ... ,,<br />

"Well, sir, there is nothing we can do now. The meeting is at<br />

nine-thirty. Colby's car leaves at nine and it's eight-fifteen now."<br />

"But we can't use them like that! ... Take them back down to<br />

Graphics . . . See what they can do."<br />

"Sir they can't ch~nge them now. There isn't time .. . It took them<br />

eight hours to get these done ..."<br />

"They always find a way. Go on. Hurry."<br />

A director <strong>of</strong> <strong>CIA</strong> briefing <strong>of</strong> the 40 Committee was a historic<br />

event; decisions would be made, armies moved, people would die,<br />

and Colby would be calm and effective, appearing completely<br />

knowledgable on Angola and Central Africa. He could not turn and<br />

point to a chart that had a typographical error. Of all its activities,<br />

the agency is the most conscientious and pr<strong>of</strong>essional when preparing<br />

memoranda, papers, charts., or briefings for the White House or<br />

Congress. No agent operation will ever galvanize a headquarters<br />

<strong>of</strong>fice into such feverish activity as the announcement that it has to<br />

prepare a paper for the director or the 40 Committee. The papers<br />

which flow up through the chain <strong>of</strong> command are letter perfect,<br />

immaculately typed, and in the crispest form <strong>of</strong> Washingto,n's<br />

bureaucratic English.<br />

I rounded the turn into "G" corridor, past the northeast entrance,<br />

and heard a police whistle shrill and a voice shouting "Sir .. . Sir<br />

,,,<br />

. . . St op . . . STOP.<br />

I jerked to a halt. A woman guard rushed up to me, her hand on<br />

her pistol.<br />

"Where are you going?" she demanded.<br />

"Officer, I have to get these to the director and damn quick!"<br />

"That's not the way to the director's <strong>of</strong>fice."<br />

"I know, but I have to go to Graphics first."<br />

"You come to my desk, I'm going to have to get your name and<br />

badge number and check you out. You can't run in this building."<br />

"Officer, my name is <strong>John</strong> <strong>Stockwell</strong>, my badge is HW469. You

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