In Search of Enemies - A CIA Story - John Stockwell

Our Little-Known Allies [93]
call the Africa Division chief if you like but I'm on my way/"
I turned and bolted, ignoring her calls after me. It gave me a funny
feeling to run from an armed officer, even a CIA guard. I wondered
if she would summon help and track me down.
Of course Potts was right. Graphics did the impossible. At nine
o'clock the charts were corrected and I delivered them to the director's
office on the seventh floor, just as Colby walked out to meet
Potts by the waiting elevator. Two of Colby's special guards, dressed
in civilian clothes, turned quickly as I rushed up and watched as I
handed the carrying case to Potts. One of the guards got into the
elevator with Colby and Potts. They would ride nonstop to the
basement where another guard was posted, and then travel in an
inconspicuous brown, chauffeur-driven Plymouth sedan to the
White House. I went back to Africa Division and the morning cable
traffic.
Almost immediately Bantam called me in. He was beside himself,
fuming and snatching at papers on his desk. I closed the door.
"Look at this! Have you seen this?"
It was a cable from Kinshasa proposing that we put fifteen agency
observer teams, Americans, at key locations in the interior of Angola.
It argued that this was the only way we would get the intelligence
and control we needed for a successful program. It outlined
the airplanes, radios, and logistical support we would need to back
up the teams.
"Here we go! It's Vietnam, Laos, and Cambodia all over again!
Fifty Americans now, five hundred next month. Fifty thousand next
year!"
I looked at him helplessly. What could I say?
"Thaf s just like St. Martin!" Carl exploded. "Charging a­
head ... "
St. Martin was an old East Asia hand who had been brought into
Africa Division by Larry Devlin after they had worked together in
the Laos program. "St. Martin has always been that way," Carl went
on. "He damn near closed down my branch in Saigon in 'sixty-two.
What happened was, we had approval to spend eight thousand dollars
on a Montagnard program and St. Martin was supposed to
deliver the money. I gave him the cash and he took off in his car.
But somewhere around Dalat he gave the money to a Vietnamese