Chapter 17

In 1981, President Ronald Reagan generated Executive Order 12333, which, among other things, stated that "No person employed by or acting on behalf of the United States Government shall engage in, or conspire to engage in, assassination." This order had been preceded by similar restrictions from Presidents Ford and Carter.

I've often wondered about the legality of presidential Executive Orders. Are they? Legal, I mean? Less than a law? More than an Act of Congress? The same? Do they really have any meaning at all, or are they just words on paper with the same force of law as a Washington Post op-ed piece?

From a logical point of view they can't have that much legal standing. After all, if Ford and Carter had said the same thing, why did Reagan feel the need to say it over again?

Has anyone ever been tried and convicted for violating an EO? Not that I'm aware of, but then again I'm not allowed to go to Justice and ask. Yeah, yeah ... I know I could've just picked up the phone and called, but where's the fun in that?

Anyway, the real reason for EO 12333 was, at least in my mind, public relations, pure and simple. Back in 1973 the CIA's Family Jewels report came out; a compilation of agency misdeeds commissioned by agency director James Schlesinger. It detailed so-called CIA depredations from the Eisenhower into the Kennedy, Johnson, and Nixon years. Apparently the CIA had been busy trying to kill any foreign leader with either communist or anti-American tendencies. And let's face it, that's a not-inconsiderable portion of the world. When official word got out it was every politician for himself, culminating in a cover-your-ass spectacular the likes of which hadn't been seen in Washington since the Tea Pot Dome scandal. The CIA was crippled internally, hammered in the court of public opinion and began its long, painful slide towards becoming a perennial punch line for late night talk show hosts and comedians across the country.

And as a result, every president from Ford on has found it necessary to climb to the top of the Washington monument and proclaim loudly to the world that he does not endorse, and in point of fact strictly forbids, any "person employed by or acting on behalf of the United States Government" from ever again engaging in, or conspiring to engage in assassination.

But if they really meant it, it'd probably be a law ... don't you think?

I made a quick stop at the office for two reasons. First, to withdraw some money from one of the several slush funds the CIA keeps. You never know when you'll need several hundred thousand dollars in unmarked bills for some covert operation. Second, to arrange for the exclusive use of one of the private executive jets the Agency executives like to think of as their own personal taxi. I contacted one of the stand-by flight crews and told them to file several flight plans, one for Chicago, one for Seattle, one for Dallas, one for Miami, one for Atlanta and one for San Diego. I'd let them know in the morning, after we were airborne, which one we'd be using.

Then I drove into D.C. for my meeting.

I'd given Coburn and McMurphy their instructions the day before; they knew where and when to bring Harold Roberts along with the evidence they'd collected.

I leaned back in my leather upholstered chair and gazed around the sub-committee chamber. It was quiet and peaceful. That was because I was alone. It wouldn't last.

Budgets. I knew the axe was coming. I also knew I had a limited number of responses available to me. How can a generally unknown civil servant pry open the death grip a senate oversight sub-committee has on the purse strings?

The U.S. government doesn't work on the same fiscal year calendar as the private sector. Their fiscal year begins in October, not January. Because of this, budgets have to be debated and approved during the summer months, usually during June and July, so that they can be voted on and sent to the President for signing before the end of the government's fiscal year. For example:

Union Calendar No. 97

105th CONGRESS

1st Session

H. R. 1775

[Report No. 105-135, Part I]

A BILL

To authorize appropriations for fiscal year 1998 for intelligence and

intelligence-related activities of the United States Government, the

Community Management Account, and the Central Intelligence Agency

Retirement and Disability System, and for other purposes.

July 1, 1997

The Committee on National Security discharged. Referred to the

Committee of the Whole House on the State of the Union.

Union Calendar No. 97

105th CONGRESS

1st Session

H. R. 1775

[Report No. 105-135, Part I]

To authorize appropriations for fiscal year 1998 for intelligence and

intelligence-related activities of the United States Government, the

Community Management Account, and the Central Intelligence Agency

Retirement and Disability System, and for other purposes.

IN THE HOUSE OF REPRESENTATIVES

June 4, 1997

Mr. Timmons introduced the following bill; which was referred to the

Permanent Select Committee on Intelligence

June 18, 1997

Reported with an amendment, and referred to the Committee on National

Security for a period ending not later than July 1, 1997 for

consideration of such provisions of the bill and amendment as fall

within the jurisdiction of that committee pursuant to clause 1(k), rule

X.

[Strike out all after the enacting clause and insert the part printed

in italic]

July 1, 1997

The Committee on National Security discharged. Referred to the

Committee of the Whole House on the State of the Union.

[For text of introduced bill, see copy of bill as introduced on June 4,

1997]

A BILL

To authorize appropriations for fiscal year 1998 for intelligence and

intelligence-related activities of the United States Government, the

Community Management Account, and the Central Intelligence Agency

Retirement and Disability System, and for other purposes.

Be it enacted by the Senate and House of Representatives of the

United States of America in Congress assembled,

SECTION 1. SHORT TITLE.

This Act may be cited as the ''Intelligence Authorization Act for

Fiscal Year 1998''.

TITLE I--INTELLIGENCE ACTIVITIES

SEC. 101. AUTHORIZATION OF APPROPRIATIONS.

Funds are hereby authorized to be appropriated for fiscal year 1998

for the conduct of the intelligence and intelligence-related activities

of the following elements of the United States Government:

(1) The Central Intelligence Agency.

(2) The Department of Defense.

(3) The Defense Intelligence Agency.

(4) The National Security Agency.

(5) The Department of the Army, the Department of the Navy,

and the Department of the Air Force.

(6) The Department of State.

(7) The Department of the Treasury.

(8) The Department of Energy.

(9) The Federal Bureau of Investigation.

(10) The Drug Enforcement Administration.

(11) The National Reconnaissance Office.

(12) The National Imagery and Mapping Agency.

SEC. 102. CLASSIFIED SCHEDULE OF AUTHORIZATIONS.

(a) Specifications of Amounts and Personnel Ceilings.--The amounts

authorized to be appropriated under section 101, and the authorized

personnel ceilings as of September 30, 1998, for the conduct of the

intelligence and intelligence-related activities of the elements listed

in such section, are those specified in the classified Schedule of

Authorizations prepared to accompany the bill H.R. 1775 of the 105th

Congress.

(b) Availability of Classified Schedule of Authorizations.--The

Schedule of Authorizations shall be made available to the Committees on

Appropriations of the Senate and House of Representatives and to the

President. The President shall provide for suitable distribution of the

Schedule, or of appropriate portions of the Schedule, within the

executive branch.

SEC. 103. PERSONNEL CEILING ADJUSTMENTS.

(a) Authority for Adjustments.--With the approval of the Director

of the Office of Management and Budget, the Director of Central

Intelligence may authorize employment of civilian personnel in excess

of the number authorized for fiscal year 1998 under section 102 when

the Director of Central Intelligence determines that such action is

necessary to the performance of important intelligence functions,

except that the number of personnel employed in excess of the number

authorized under such section may not, for any element of the

intelligence community, exceed two percent of the number of civilian

personnel authorized under such section for such element.

(b) Notice to Intelligence Committees.--The Director of Central

Intelligence shall promptly notify the Permanent Select Committee on

Intelligence of the House of Representatives and the Select Committee

on Intelligence of the Senate whenever he exercises the authority

granted by this section.

SEC. 104. COMMUNITY MANAGEMENT ACCOUNT.

(a) Authorization of Appropriations.--There is authorized to be

appropriated for the Community Management Account of the Director of

Central Intelligence for fiscal year 1998 the sum of $147,588,000.

Within such amount, funds identified in the classified Schedule of

Authorizations referred to in section 102(a) for the Advanced Research

and Development Committee and the Environmental Intelligence and

Applications Program shall remain available until September 30, 1999.

(b) Authorized Personnel Levels.--The elements within the Community

Management Account of the Director of Central Intelligence are

authorized a total of 313 full-time personnel as of September 30, 1998.

Such personnel may be permanent employees of the Community Management

Account elements or personnel detailed from other elements of the

United States Government.

© Classified Authorizations.--In addition to amounts authorized

to be appropriated by subsection (a) and the personnel authorized by

subsection (b)--

(1) there is authorized to be appropriated for fiscal year

1998 such amounts, and

(2) there is authorized such personnel as of September 30,

1998,

for the Community Management Account, as are specified in the

classified Schedule of Authorizations referred to in section 102(a)...

It goes on like that for quite a few pages, including a handful of classified indexes and addendums that the Freedom of Information Act will not let you see. The budget for my department gets included in that handful. And where other branches of the government get to submit and defend their requests for money during the summer to a full committee, I have to present mine to a pair of sub-committees ... in January, when most of Congress is still on vacation. I didn't want to be there, the members didn't want to be there and consequently the budget had taken serious hits each and every damn year since I'd signed on.

I was jostled out of my musings by the opening of a door on the far left and the emergence of a pair of individuals, a man and a woman, who began scanning the room with electronic gizmos they'd brought for just that purpose. The gadgets were smaller and more sophisticated than the stuff in use when I'd attended my first meeting eight years before. Oddly enough though, in spite of the new gadgetry, it seemed to take the pair about the same amount of time to finish scanning. They left and not more than five minutes later the first member of the sub-committee entered from a hidden doorway just behind the semi-circular desk/table/podium where the membership would sit in judgment.

"Good morning, Dr. Blacktower." he offered before taking his place near my left.

The man was the most junior of the thirteen senators who sat on the Investigations subcommittee, having just completed one third of his initial six year term. The junior senator from North Dakota, and a member of the majority party, had surprised a lot of people by accepting a seat on the Investigations subcommittee. It wasn't one of the more powerful or publicly recognized groups within the Senate and as such wouldn't help much in getting re-elected.

"How are you today, Senator?"

"Troubled, sir. Deeply troubled." he replied with a nervous half-smile and a raised eyebrow.

Fairly young, by senate standards, thirty four year old Daniel Gilmore had been elected to fill a seat vacated by the retirement of a long sitting senator from the opposition party. He was an intense and studious man who, I thought initially, was somewhat out of his depth. Prior to his election he'd been a professor of political science at his state's one and only major university. I wasn't sure his studies had prepared him terribly well for the realities of political life in Washington.

"Any chance I might be able to help?"

He shook his head slightly. "Not really. I'm afraid you are the source of my troubles."

I raised an eyebrow of my own.

"You'll be hearing all about it shortly." he said cryptically.

"Cutting my budget by that much, are you?" I suggested softly.

He shrugged, but didn't say anything else as the remaining members began filing in and took their places around the table.

The sub-committee chairman, a gray haired man in his late sixties by the name of Raymond Jones, rapped his little wooden gavel on the desk top and called the group to order. He looked up from the papers spread out before him and peered over the tops of his reading glasses.

"Good morning Doctor." He glanced around momentarily before returning his attention to me. "No assistants this morning?"

I wondered for a moment if he were trying to be funny, or if it were possible he was so out of touch that he just didn't know.

I gave him a wolfish grin and shook my head fractionally. "The twin blades of House and Senate have cut my budget so much over the years that I can no longer afford the luxury of assistants."

Senator Gilmore chuckled briefly.

The co-chair, the only woman on the sub-committee and the senior senator from, of all places, California, smirked at me from beneath the layers of pancake makeup plastered over her face.

"Yes ... well ... do you have any opening remarks you'd like to make before we begin?" Senator Jones asked.

"Not just yet, but I will have a thing or two to announce later on in the proceedings." I got up, moved around the table and stepped forward to stand directly in front of the chairman and his co-chair.

"I would, however, like to offer a little preamble. I've been submitting reports to both this and the House's sub-committee for the better part of six years, and as of today I've yet to see or hear a single word in response. About the only things I ever hear from your two committee's are excuses why my budget has to be cut yet again along with the latest in politically motivated limitations on my personal movement in and around the capitol. It has crossed my mind that my efforts, and those of the few people left in my department, don't interest you folks very much. So ... in an effort to educate, entertain and enlighten, I've decided to put on a little Show-and-Tell."

I reached into my jacket's inner pocket and removed my cell phone, hit the speed dial and waited. It rang one time on the other end before being answered.

"Number One, send Mr. Roberts in with the bags. The two of you may return to work. And thank you both. Good job." I said into the device before shutting it off and returning it to my pocket.

A moment later, the door on the far left opened and Harold Roberts, dressed in his finest dark suit entered the chamber, three large woven shopping bags filled with files and papers griped tightly in his hands.

"Mr. Roberts, good morning. Come on in and join us." I suggested with a friendly smile.

Roberts gave me a tentative smile in return and headed in my direction. I gestured to what I'd come to think of as the defendant's table. "Go ahead and put the bags down there and have a seat."

I turned back towards the dais.

"Senators, allow me to introduce Harold Roberts. Mr. Roberts is currently a senior member of the Russian Analytical Unit at the FBI. He's been with the FBI since 1975, and has, since 1978, been selling classified information, first to the Soviets and after the USSR's collapse to the Russians."

Gilmore looked up sharply. "You found a Russian spy at the FBI?"

I shook my head. "Technically Mr. Roberts is not a Russian spy, senator. He's what we in the business call a traitor. Those less in favor of pejoratives might prefer the term espionage agent. Those of a more humorous bent might suggest that Mr. Roberts is a 'highly motivated, free market intelligence dispersal activist'. But, as far as I'm concerned, traitor pretty well covers it. And it didn't take much investigating to find out what Harold's been up to. A little less than two weeks. It only took a few hours to get a signed confession, a list of all his past and present contacts, bank account numbers where his payoffs went as well as a complete life history."

"Dr. Blacktower, I was under the impression that your job was limited to the CIA." the chairman said.

"I wondered who was going to bring that up; and how quickly. Strictly speaking, yes, you are correct Senator. I did try to get the FBI Director to conduct the investigation, but he was, for reasons of his own, either unable or unwilling to do so. You might want to ask him about that one of these days, but that is, of course, up to you."

I turned away from the dais and moved along side of the chair where Roberts was seated and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Okay Harold, tell the nice senators your story. Keep it short and to the point." I commanded.

Harold talked for about half an hour, explaining his path to the FBI, his involvement with the Soviets, the types of information he'd sold, the names of the Soviet agents he'd dealt with, the amounts of money involved and his two meetings with me.

The members of the committee sat open mouthed during his entire statement. I'd stood next to Roberts during his entire presentation, removing my hand from his shoulder about five minutes in.

"This man is in your custody, Doctor?" the senator on the chairman's right, August Wilson of Wyoming, asked once Harold stopped talking.

I paused a few seconds before replying.

"Custody ... I suppose you could call it that. It might be helpful to keep in mind that no one in my department, myself included, is legally authorized to arrest or detain anyone. We are not the police, the FBI, or agents of the Justice Department. That's one reason why none of the people we've apprehended have ever gone to trial."

Senator Gilmore coughed gently, clearing his throat.

"I've spent the past two days reading those reports you mentioned, Doctor, and I have a couple of questions, if you don't mind?"

"Not at all, Senator."

"In your reports you state, for the most part, that after debriefing and follow-up investigation, four fifths of these suspects..."

"Not suspects, Senator, self-confessed espionage agents, spies and traitors." I interrupted. "Each report I've submitted has had the individual's signed confession attached."

"I stand corrected, sir. Four-fifths of these traitors were returned to their former positions and are still working for the CIA. Is that correct?"

"That is correct."

"Why?" he asked pleasantly.

I gave the man a faint smile. Maybe he wasn't so far out of his depth after all.

"The people I've returned to duty are now functioning as what are euphemistically referred to as double-agents. We feed them false or misleading information to keep their handlers happy, and disinformation so that it's possible to track and trace other government's intelligence networks. Once my department catches a spy, if practical we turn them then hand them over to Operations, who are then in charge of running them from that point on."

"I see ... I think. You said that once you turn these spies, if practical you hand them over to Operations?"

"In effect, yes."

"Could you expand on that a little more?"

I nodded my head fractionally, stepped around to the front of the table and sat on the front edge. I crossed my arms over my chest and gave them all a brief smile.

"Getting a suspected spy to confess isn't particularly difficult, and turning them is almost as easy. The only significant problems arise over the issue of practicality. The biggest worry I have to deal with is whether or not the person in question can believably function as a double agent. Will their handlers continue to trust them once we start rolling up their network? Are they capable of passing on the right kinds of information; by which I mean the kind we can alter or falsify, while remaining viable as double agents? Plainly speaking, are they convincing liars? Four-fifths of these people met my criteria for becoming functional doubles. Not one of them has been compromised and to date they are still on the job and hard at work ... for both sides."

Gilmore's eyes sparkled with humor.

"And those who failed to meet your criteria? What about them?"

I let my face go cold and still.

"Are you quite sure you want to know the answer to that question, Senator? Are your colleagues sure they want to know?"

Gilmore's open, trusting, innocent and obliviously faked expression impressed me no end. The guy was a shark posing as a goldfish.

"What harm can there be in knowing the truth, Doctor?" he asked brightly.

I swung my gaze across the dais. "One should be very careful not to confuse facts with truth. And knowing the facts makes plausible deniability very difficult."

I took a deep breath, let it out slowly and locked eyes with the co-chair. "The fact is that those individuals who did not meet my criteria for becoming double agents were of no further use to us. They died."

The senior senator from California's eyes got big and bright and glassy. For the first time in my life I intentionally tried to increase the production of what Evan and Janis called my pheromone factory.

But no matter how or what I tried there didn't seem to be any real change, emotionally or physically, on the part of anyone in the room, so I abandoned the idea for the time being and went back to sending low levels of lust and desire at the co-chair. She licked her collagen injected lips and tugged at the tight collar of her expensive designer blouse. I gave her a crooked smile and the tiniest flash of Lilly's most recent orgasm. The senator's eyelashes fluttered, her nostrils quivered and her burgeoning double chin wobbled as she exhaled loudly.

"I'm sorry, Doctor, you said they died?" Senator Jones repeated.

"Yes Senator, they died." I returned my attention to the subject at hand. "Autopsies were performed and confirmed that they died from either massive heart failure or brain embolism."

I saw Roberts visibly wincing out of the corner of my eye.

"Who did the autopsies?" the chairman demanded.

I frowned slightly as if trying to recall. "Two were done by the D.C. coroner, one by the Alexandria coroner's office; one was done at Bethesda and one by the Baltimore coroner."

"Don't you find it odd that they all worked, and spied, at the CIA, yet their deaths were spread out all over the area?" Gilmore asked politely. The man was going to go a long way in politics, if he could keep his peers from discovering just how astute he really was.

I shrugged and uncrossed my arms, standing up slowly. "They lived all over the area, senator. I think it would have been much more suspicious had they'd all died sitting in their Agency cubicles, don't you? The way it worked out all but one died at home. The one who was autopsied at Bethesda happened to be there visiting a friend at the time of death. Just a matter of luck, I suppose."

Gilmore nodded his head in understanding.

"The doctors at Bethesda weren't able to save the man?" the co-chair had recovered enough to interject herself back into the discussion.

"Actually, that particular spy was a woman ... fairly young too. I believe she was twenty-eight or nine. Curiously enough, she's the only one of the five who didn't have a heart attack. The emergency room staff did what they could, but the damage was extensive and she was brain dead almost immediately. Her body gave out the following day."

The co-chair glared at me.

"You don't seem to be terribly broken up about it ... about any of their deaths." she accused.

I took a couple of steps forward, my eyes bored down at the woman's lined face. No amount of makeup could hide the ravages of time and excess. And from what I'd heard, the old bat had known a thing or two in her day about how to party. I let her feel my lack of concern, my apathy and disdain.

"Should I be? Remember, we're talking about traitors Senator. I personally won't give a second thought to, or lose one night's sleep over, the death of anyone who'd betray this country for money. You, of course, are free to think or feel any way you like."

"You killed them, didn't you?" she accused weakly.

I lifted one eyebrow and feigned surprise. "That is a malicious, libelous and completely unsupportable accusation. How can you even suggest such a thing? You know as well as I do that government employees are expressly prohibited from activities of that nature. Besides which, their autopsies all confirmed that, in each and every case, death was from natural causes."

I let my voice grow cold and harsh. "In any event ... paying death benefits is still considerably less expensive than a public trial. And there's much less in the way of bad publicity. Or perhaps you'd prefer the bad publicity and expense, as well as the entire world being made aware of our government's inability to keep its secrets secret? I realize, of course, that occurrences of that sort make for wonderfully messy political in-fighting. They give you political types tremendous opportunities to bash one another, and us, in the media. But I'm not in the business of giving you people free sound-bytes or helping you get re-elected. My department and I are apolitical."

I shifted my eyes to the left, to the middle aged man sitting on the chairman's right.

"Getting back to Senator Wilson's question, yes ... Mr. Roberts is presently in my custody. And now that you folks know about him and his crimes the question uppermost on my mind is what do you intend to do about him?"

There was a prolonged and strained silence. They looked and felt stunned.

"What are we going to do about him?" the co-chair very nearly whined.

"Yes, you. You see, I know that Congress is planning to cut my budget once again. Do you imagine that makes me very happy? Or cooperative? Or sympathetic to your wants or needs? When I first took the job as Dr. Wills' deputy, Internal Security had more than thirty people on the payroll. There are now fewer than ten. Our funding has been systematically reduced, each and every year since then, and by extension our staff. Still, despite those annual cutbacks, we've continued to do our job. We've located and eliminated, on average, three moles or traitors a year. And in removing the threat these individuals represented to the CIA in particular, and the U.S. government in general, what has it cost the American taxpayer? Not one red cent above or beyond what it cost to fund us each year. I don't know if any of you are aware of this, but prior to 1991 the average cost of an espionage trial was in the neighborhood of three million dollars. More, if you add in the expense resulting from the appeals process. Not to mention the cost of maintaining the convicted individual, or individuals, within the federal prison system for an average term of twenty years."

I paced along the inverted length of their raised bench, making eye contact with each senator along the way, broadcasting frustration and disgust all the while.

"We never expected, or asked for, honors, pats on the back, or even so much as a simple thank you. But a little practical gratitude would have been nice. Sufficient funding so we could continue to do our job would have been nice. A little respect would have been welcome. But what did we get? No money, no respect, and I personally have been slapped with restraining orders signed by the whole damned Congress. You apparently don't want me to do this job, but what with our little department having been created by Presidential decree and all you can't just up and eliminate it, so I'm going to solve all our problems in one fell swoop. You don't want me to do the job, and I sure as hell don't need the continual aggravation. So it's finished. I'm gone."