Good Hunting: An American Spymaster's Story

316 Pages·2014·2.06 MB·English

by  Jack Devine

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For Pat, without whom this story would not have been possible
and
for all the CIA personnel who have served their country gallantly
Contents

Title Page
Copyright Notice
Dedication
Introduction
1. Inside the Invisible Government
2. Mules, Pickup Trucks, and Stinger Missiles
3. “Your Friend Called from the Airport”
4. “We Need to Polygraph Him”
5. “Jack, This Changes It All, Doesn’t It?”
6. Do I Lie to the Pope, or Break Cover?
7. Selling the Linear Strategy, One Lunch at a Time
8. Jousting with the Soviets: When I Knew It Was Over
9. A New Boss, a Bad Penny, and a Principled Heroin Dissent
10. The Rooster and the Train
11. Raising the Bar
12. Undisclosed
13. Splitting a Steak
14. Good Hunting
Postscript
People Consulted
Acknowledgments
Index
Photographs
A Note About the Author
Copyright
Introduction

There’s a model truck on the windowsill of my office overlooking Central Park
that takes me back to the border towns in Pakistan with just a glimpse. Very few
of my clients ever comment on it. They come to my firm in Midtown in New
York City with all sorts of thorny problems and ask for help figuring out exactly
what is going on. They’re usually doing business in an environment, or with
people, they don’t fully understand, and they want to know the risks involved
and how best to proceed. The truck, in fact, symbolizes a life in the intelligence
world, and in turn the reason they have come to my office in the first place.
Charlie Wilson gave it to me as a reminder of the guns and ammunition we
moved across the border into Afghanistan. Charlie was a Democratic
congressman from Texas who developed an intense interest in the Afghan
mujahideen and their determined opposition to the Soviet Union’s occupation of
their country in the 1980s. I ran the last, and largest, covert operation of the Cold
War as head of the Central Intelligence Agency’s Afghan Task Force.
Afghanistan will always loom large in my mind as the crowning
accomplishment of my past work as an intelligence officer—and one of the
greatest challenges ahead for the CIA and the American intelligence community.
I’m in the corporate intelligence business now, commanding a distributed
network of hundreds of contacts who in turn have hundreds of sources they can
tap into around the world. It’s fair to say that I can put a tail on someone just
about anywhere in the world faster than most spy agencies. I’ve assessed the risk
of a chem-bio attack at Madison Square Garden, vetted the prospective owner of
an NBA franchise, foiled a cyberthief in China, and freed trucks in Moscow
belonging to one of the world’s great magicians. My work obviously colors the
way I think about the future of U.S. intelligence, where I still occasionally serve
in an advisory capacity, having kept my clearances active. Of course, it’s my
thirty-two-year career at the CIA that has made me the intelligence professional I
am, even though I scrupulously avoid contact with former agents, sources, or
foreign intelligence officers I knew on the job.
When I walked away from the CIA in 1998 with nothing but a government
pension, I thought I had my feelings under control. I thought I was done. But
over the years, I’ve never quite been able to let go. This book is my best shot at
sorting out my complex emotions and experiences. I served during the middle
years of the CIA—from Nixon to Clinton—and know that period of CIA history
intimately. I lived it, I breathed it, and I loved it. During those times, we ended
many of our cables with the phrase “GOOD HUNTING,” which referred to the
covert, relentless pursuit of our enemies and sources of intelligence. And so it
has been the “hunting” conducted by U.S. intelligence officers and their
diplomatic and military brethren that led us to victory in the Cold War, as well as
to the dismantling of al-Qaeda. Yet I still feel the Central Intelligence Agency,
caricatured and lionized by Hollywood, remains one of the least-understood
instruments of the U.S. government. Agency critics tend to focus on failed
operations that are exposed or compromised, either by screwups in execution,
leaks in Washington, or the release or declassification of once-secret cables. But
these accounts typically shed little light on either the CIA’s internal culture and
discipline or the professionalism among its officers. I don’t want to hide behind
the cliché often cited by those who’ve run the CIA that our relatively few
failures become public while our many successes remain secret. But there is
more than a little truth to that. In over thirty years, I never saw or participated in
a “rogue operation”—something the CIA executed on its own without explicit
approval from the White House. My seven overseas postings, interspersed with
headquarters assignments, also made me understand how valuable it is that the
CIA plants its flag in almost every country. The president and other members of
the U.S. national security community cannot know when a country will suddenly
take on strategic importance. Grounding in foreign capitals, and an ability to
influence events through covert means, is critical for Washington. No one can
provide those things better than the CIA.
I want to set the record straight, to the best of my ability, for history’s sake,
about the Agency’s essential intelligence contributions to national security. And
I want to talk about the future of the CIA post-Iraq and -Afghanistan, with the
nation fatigued by large ground wars but still in need of protection against an
array of enemies, from al-Qaeda to the Mexican drug cartels, from Iran to North
Korea. Like it or not, a powerful intelligence service capable of stealing secrets
from our adversaries and mounting effective covert operations is, for the United
States, an imperative of modern statecraft. I hope, after many years of war, we
do not come to resemble those whom T. S. Eliot wrote about at the end of World
War I in his poem “The Hollow Men.” In it, he describes leaders as “shape
without form, shade without color, paralyzed force, gesture without motion.” I
saw few such people in the CIA. The model truck on my windowsill speaks to
my belief in the efficacy of covert action. It is true that the CIA’s biggest
mistakes involved covert action. But it is also true that these mistakes, without
exception, also involved operations carried out at the behest of presidents
pursuing flawed policies. And for every covert action that failed spectacularly,
there have been others that enabled presidents and policy makers to achieve ends
in the nation’s interest with an unseen hand, which is almost always preferable to
a heavy footprint. Through hard experience, including running all CIA
operations in the mid-1990s, I understand the difference between good covert
action that is effective and representative of the best of American values, and
bad covert action that is poorly conceived and destined to fail. I have developed
over the years a set of principles designed to ensure the former and prevent the
latter. It’s time that the policy makers and Congress conduct a comprehensive
review of covert action, its appropriate use, and general principles of operation
so we can come to a better appreciation of what the CIA can do for the nation at
this complex moment in our history. Needless to say, this can’t become a public
debate about ongoing operations that would jeopardize our people, allies, and
national interests. Such a discussion can more appropriately be handled through
the existing oversight process. But it is nevertheless imperative.
I have been engaged in all aspects of the spy business. I’ve written in
invisible ink and run black bag jobs. I have argued against flawed coup plots and
directed the largest covert action of the Cold War. I spoke out inside the CIA
against the operation in the mid-1980s to send missiles to Iran (to no avail) and
ran the clandestine service during the drawdown after the Cold War and the
aftermath of two devastating betrayals, one by the CIA mole Aldrich Ames, and
the other by the FBI turncoat Robert Hanssen. I am writing this memoir now to
demonstrate the necessity of using the CIA and covert action to their fullest
potential at this critical period of history. If not, we will have lost the opportunity
to exploit these important tools of statecraft, with potentially grave
consequences. After spending billions on intelligence since the 9/11 terror
attacks, I still believe we’re underinvesting in spies: instead we have been
militarizing intelligence in a way that ultimately will detract from our ability to
engage in espionage and conduct covert action. I’m not an apologist for the CIA,
and I have publicly criticized certain of its practices. Thomas Polgar, the
legendary CIA station chief in Saigon, was a straight shooter and never afraid to
speak up on matters of principle. His assessments in Vietnam—what was known
and not known during the war—were hugely controversial. I asked him once
why he was willing to take on such issues. “When you get to the level I’m at,
you have an obligation to stand up for what you believe,” he said. When I was
deputy director of operations, I passed his remark on to departing station chiefs
before they took up their new assignments abroad, because I do believe it’s true.
This was a trait that was encouraged and fostered by many others as well, in the
formative years of my career at the CIA. I hope this trait has continued to be
emphasized to this day.
In this vein, I was troubled by torture and waterboarding and other
extrajudicial tactics that became part of the Agency’s operational program in the
years after 9/11, and made my view clear to the CIA leadership and to the media
without compromising any sources or methods. I should note that I am fiercely
nonpartisan—as were most of those I worked with at Langley. It is essential to
maintain balance and objectivity in the intelligence business. Objectivity’s value
to the system is often not fully appreciated. Likewise, I found the attempt to
politicize intelligence on weapons of mass destruction in Iraq deeply disturbing.
The most glaring example was related to a questionable source known as
“Curveball.” The CIA had given this oddly apt code name to a young Iraqi
chemical engineer named Ahmed Hassan Mohammed, according to Curveball:
Spies, Lies, and the Con Man Who Caused a War, by Bob Drogin, a veteran
reporter for the Los Angeles Times. Curveball surfaced in Munich in 1999
seeking asylum, and fed German intelligence a fabricated story about Saddam
Hussein’s secret network of biological weapons factories, which could be moved
from place to place on trailer trucks. This unverified information was sent to the
White House, despite concerns about Curveball’s reliability voiced by a cadre of
experienced Agency officers. Curveball’s bogus story ended up in President
Bush’s 2003 State of the Union address, two months before America invaded
Iraq, and in Secretary of State Colin Powell’s dramatic presentation to the UN
Security Council on February 5, 2003, making the case for military action
against Saddam. The CIA finally pressured German intelligence to arrange a
debriefing of Curveball in March 2004, a year after the invasion of Iraq. The