for failing to warn the nation about the attacks of September 11. According to them, the Agency was riddled with incompetent, self-serving fools. The U.S.
intelligence community needed revamping and streamlining from the top to the bottom. They were happy just now to start at the top with McGarvey. Mississippi’s Jackman and Montana’s Clawson were for keeping a strong CIA, though they were asking for more efficiency for the same dollars. New York’s Pilcher and Utah’s Wright, both junior senators, and both fairly new on the committee, were still on the fence. Hammond brought the meeting to order, then swore in McGarvey. C-SPAN’s television cameras continued to roll. “Mr. McGarvey, I see by your witness list that you’ve brought only the CIA’s general counsel Carleton Paterson with you this morning.” “Good morning, Senator.
Yes, that’s correct.” “Will you be bringing other advisers or witnesses in the coming days? I ask because if you are, their names will first have to be presented to the committee.” “Mr. Paterson will be sufficient to keep me out of serious trouble, Senator,” McGarvey said. There were a few chuckles around the room, and a slight smile played at the edges of Hammond’s mouth. He had been waiting for just this sort of opportunity ever since Lawrence Haynes had become president when the former President had resigned because of health problems. Haynes and Hammond had been rivals and then bitter enemies in the House and in the Senate, their careers nearly paralleling each other’s. Haynes was a tough-talking, no-nonsense conservative Republican, while Hammond was what the New York Times called a “touchy-feely New Democract with teeth.” Haynes wanted a strong military and a national missile defense shield. Hammond wanted billions diverted from defense and plowed into social welfare and health care reform programs. Haynes promised to take back the fear of terrorism on American soil and against Americans anywhere in the world.
Hammond wanted to close ninety percent of our overseas military installations and start bringing Americans home, where they belonged.
Haynes was a president of the people. Hammond was a ranking senator for the people. McGarvey was the president’s fair-haired boy at the moment because of an incident last year in San Francisco when diplomacy would have worked much better than guns blazing. Showing the American people, and especially his fellow senators what sort of a monster McGarvey was, and why he should not be allowed to run the CIA, would be striking a blow at the President. One that would not go unnoticed by his party. Hammond wanted to be president. But for the moment Haynes’s numbers were too high. “Very well,” Hammond said. He fiddled with some notes. “We’ll have a light session today. I’ll make a brief opening statement, and I would ask that Mr. McGarvey or his counsel do the same. Afterward I will allow the general, non classified questions concerning Mr. McGarvey’s background.” He looked at his calendar.
“If we can cover enough ground today to everyone’s satisfaction, the next few days will be in camera.” Most of the operations that McGarvey had been involved with during his twenty-five years with the CIA were still classified. When the committee began delving into those areas the hearings would have to be held in executive session, closed to anyone without the proper security clearances and the need-to-know. “I wouldn’t give so much as a confidential security clearance to any of them,” McGarvey had told Paterson. “If they could get a political boost, they’d leak anything that they could get their hands on. The Bureau’s helpless to stop them.” “Their privilege,” Paterson replied laconically. “They could get people killed.” “That’s the fine line you’ll need to walk,” Paterson warned. “You have to make them think that they’re getting what they want while protecting our current assets. In the process you’ll take the heat.” McGarvey watched Hammond posturing for the TV cameras. It came down to the question of how much he really wanted the job, and why he wanted it. They were questions he’d been asking himself every day since the President had asked him to serve. Questions for which he still didn’t know if he had all the answers. A little over three months ago he and Roland Murphy, then the DCI, had been called over to the White House. They met the President, his chief of staff and adviser on national security affairs in the Oval Office. The meeting was Murphy’s call. He’d announced that he was retiring as DCI because of his health, and that he wanted McGarvey to succeed him. Murphy’s retirement had been hinted at in the media, and just about everybody at Langley knew it was coming, and yet it came as something of a surprise to McGarvey that morning. Probably because he’d been too involved in running the Directorate of Operations to see the larger picture. “I’d like you to take the job,” President Haynes had said. “Or at least give it some serious consideration.”
“I’m not the right man,” McGarvey replied, shaking his head. “I’m just a field officer-” “You’re a hell of a lot more than that, and you know it,” Murphy interjected. He turned to the President. “Everybody in the Company would be shocked if Mac wasn’t appointed. Right now the DO
is functioning with a greater efficiency than it ever has, because of him. He’s a born leader. His people practically fall over themselves to do what he wants, because they know that if they didn’t or couldn’t do the job, he’d step in and do it for them.” “I’d probably be impeached if I didn’t hire you,” the President said. McGarvey had to chuckle. “You’ll probably be impeached if you do, if Hammond has anything to say about it.” “You’ll have to face him and his crowd, but you leave handling him to me,” the President said sternly. “The CIA has been run by politicians, or by military men who’ve turned politician, entirely too long,” He glanced at Murphy. “No offense, Roland.” “None taken, Mr. President.” “I need a career intelligence officer at the helm. A man who knows the Agency, what it can and can’t do from the ground floor up.” “I was a shooter,” McGarvey said, no apology in his voice. “Did you ever shoot at anybody in your military career?” the President asked Murphy. “Yes, as a tank commander.”
“With the intent to kill?” “Yes.” “We’re in trouble right now and you know it.” The President turned back to McGarvey. “Besides fighting terrorists, Pakistan has gone back to its old tricks. They’re on the verge of developing a thermonuclear device that could be strapped atop one of their missiles. The PRC is on the verge of a Pearl Harbor attack on Taiwan. Russia is falling apart faster than we thought would happen. All of Lebanon is on fire again. And half of the African continent is slaughtering the other half. I need information. I need it fast. And I need it unvarnished. You’re the only man I know who can do the job the way I want it done, because you’re not afraid to tell the truth no matter how much it hurts.” The President sat back.
He’d taken his shot. “I need you to run the CIA. Will you do it?”
“I’ll think about it,” McGarvey said. “Fair enough. When Roland steps down you’ll take over as interim director until you’re confirmed or until you step down.”
Once an intelligence officer, always an intelligence officer. God help him, but the past couple of months had been interesting. “The matter before us today is whether this committee should recommend to the full Senate that it consent to or reject the President’s nomination of Kirk Cullough McGarvey as Director of Central Intelligence.” McGarvey took a look at his opening statement, which Paterson had completely rewritten this morning, as Hammond droned on about the procedures for the witnesses, the questions and evidence that could be presented, and the documents that the CIA might be required to turn over. Paterson’s theme was that since the attacks on the World Trade Center in New York and on the Pentagon, it was more important than ever for the United States to be well informed about what was going on in the world. There would almost certainly be more attacks on our military installations and ships, and on civilian targets. It proved that we needed a strong intelligence agency. In order to maintain superiority we needed an experienced man at the helm of the CIA. Not the CEO of a major corporation, but a person well versed in the business. Someone who had worked at every level; from field officer in Germany, France, Russia, Hong Kong, Japan and France to deputy director of Operations at headquarters. A loyal American. A man who obviously and repeatedly had placed his own safety and that of his family second to the security of his country. A man young enough to understand the new millennium with all of its technical means to lead the Agency to the next level of excellence. Hammond had started on his opening statement, but McGarvey wasn’t really listening. He laid Paterson’s document back on the table. This was not going to be so polite, so neat and tidy as the Agency’s general counsel wanted it to be. The hearings would mirror the real world; they would be down and dirty, contentious, and filled with bullshit because Hammond would tell a version of the truth as he saw it, and McGarvey would tell the committee a sanitized version of the way things really were. It would be like two women at an expensive cocktail party telling each other how good they looked while actually despising one another. The other senators on the committee paid no attention to Hammond. They shuffled through their files and notes. The opening hours of these kinds of hearings were usually mild and polite.
The real fireworks wouldn’t start until later, perhaps in the second or third day, when the pressure would build. These were seasoned politicians who well understood that public perception and reality were often two separate things. One of the C-SPAN cameras was trained on McGarvey, looking for his reaction to what Hammond was saying. He kept his face neutral. Every DCI before him had gone through this process.
He suspected that none of them had enjoyed the experience any more than he did. And if he was confirmed, he would be back up here on the Hill testifying before Congress several times a year. Paterson held a hand over the
