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Chapter 3

On paper, Den Clark was the kind of man Teddy sought. He was a SEAL, trained to handle himself in difficult situations. He was tough and resourceful. He was battle tested. He had courage, a fact that was amply proven by his record. During this short interview, Clark had already shown he was perceptive as well as smart.

Teddy’s problem involved uncovering Den’s core beliefs? How do you find if a man is trustworthy? Teddy would have to make decisions based on the way Den reacted when he got an answer to his question: “Why am I here?”

Teddy took a Dominican Republic cigar from a humidor atop his desk. “Care for one?” he asked. Den shook his head. Teddy lighted the cigar. He studied its glowing end and, satisfied, blew a smoke ring. “Of course you want to know why you’re here and, of course, I’m going to tell you.”

Teddy began by disapproving politicians’ interference in CIA affairs. “It hamstrings the Agency’s ability to effectively perform its functions. For decades they cut our budgets,” he complained. “They nearly destroyed our on-the-ground sources of information,” he continued. “We used to get solid reports from felons, perverts, prostitutes, drug dealers, disreputable types of all sorts. They weren’t nice people so the politicians told us we couldn’t use them.

“As a result, we had no accurate information about the Ayatollah Khomeini when our politicians managed to get us thrown out of Iran. We didn’t even know the man our politicians put in power after that Haitian mess. He was an admirer of Castro. Look at the problems we’ve had in Iraq trying to get local informants.

“We used the Mafia to keep the docks operating in World War II. The OSS used them in Italy, too. That’s all changed. Now our people on the ground have to be squeaky clean. Remember when some fools believed we could get all the information we needed through satellite surveillances?

“These same idiots are busy burying us under layer upon layer of bureaucracy. Defense, State, the military, the Agency - we all had intelligence operations. Now we are magically interrelated. It’s a classic example of the strange and clearly insane belief that ‘change’ means ‘progress.’

“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 outside of Aegis has even a suspicion of its existence.”

Aegis projects left no records of their activities. They were carefully concealed within other authorized missions given to officers under the jurisdiction of the Directorate of Operations - the Section of the CIA involved in overseas espionage. Teddy finished his comments by stating an imperative. No one outside the circle should ever learn of the existence of Aegis. Even the most remote danger of the discovery of their invisible organization could not be tolerated. It would have to be avoided at all cost.

Teddy’s last words were; “The men who carry out Aegis plans, must be more than merely capable of carrying out assignments. They must be particularly dedicated and completely trustworthy.” Then he leaned back in his chair and waited for Den’s reaction.

Den’s reaction was immediate. “This is not desk work,” he thought. “Teddy wants me to carry out assignments. He wants me do the killing.” Den looked for confirmation. “I suppose you are running a risk right now because I’ve been checked out and someone wonders if I might be willing to undertake,” Den paused for a second before saying, “a special project.” Teddy nodded.

“I suppose this is all you’re going to tell me about Aegis?”

Teddy shifted his eyes and studied the ceiling of his office, “If you were in the top level of the Agency and you knew the public exposure of an assassination plot could destroy the CIA as well as, perhaps, the President and his Administration, you wouldn’t want anyone to be able to identify your associates, would you? And if you, yourself, were involved in executing such a plan, wouldn’t it be better if you didn’t have any such dangerous information?”

Den nodded. “Give me a few days.”

Teddy got his answer the next morning.

A week later, Den was sent to the CIA station in Santiago, Chile. Officially, he was expected to perform the jobs usually given to agents on their first overseas posting. His station associates didn’t know he had been given another unannounced assignment. Aegis provided him with the reported location of a political murderer who had successfully hidden from the justice that, long ago, should have been meted out.

The few attempts to capture Humberto del Valle had been frustrated. Carefully developed information of his whereabouts was consistently accurate and consistently stale. Den’s assignment was to determine if Humberto del Valle was in Puerto Montt. If he found him, he was told to kill him.