The Kill Zone by David Hagberg Page B

I’ve been campaigning for quite a while to revamp the CIA. It’s long overdue.”
    â€œI agree,” McGarvey said. “But probably not along the same lines you’ve been talking about. I firmly believe that there remains a very strong need for the CIA. But for an agency that’s leaner, meaner, better funded and equipped, and without three-quarters of the bureaucracy that has hamstrung almost every operation before it ever got off the ground.”
    â€œThere’s a great deal of inertia in an organization as vast as the CIA, wouldn’t you say?”
    â€œToo much.”
    â€œSo it would take a very capable administrator to accomplish such a reorganization as you envision. Isn’t that correct?”
    â€œI might say yes, Senator, if we were talking about almost any other organization than the CIA.”
    â€œI expect so,” Senator Madden responded smugly. “But isn’t it a fact you have admitted that you are no administrator?”
    â€œAn officer in the field, whose life may very well be jeopardized by the
kinds of policies being put in place at headquarters, respects professional competence over administrative expertise.”
    â€œSpies managing spies?”
    â€œYes, Senator. Just like the old days, when spies like Dulles and Donovan grew the Agency from nothing.”
    â€œBut they were gentlemen.”
    Paterson reached for the microphone, but McGarvey responded to Madden’s thinly veiled insult.
    â€œYes, they were, Senator. They came from the old school, when people believed in building institutions to help make this country strong, not tear them apart with no clear idea what should replace them.”
    The Washington Post had quoted Madden on more than one occasion calling for the dismantling of the CIA. The Agency, in her estimation, had cost the United States far more money and far more embarrassment than it was ever worth even on its best day. “A den of thugs,” she had said.
    She caught his insult, but if it bothered her, she didn’t let it show. “You are going to tell us how you mean to bring the CIA back to the good old days?”
    â€œIf that’s what you want to call it, yes, I will.” McGarvey returned her smile. “I think it’s time that we stop apologizing to the rest of the world for who and what we are.” He looked at the other senators. “I’m here this morning to answer your questions, but not to make excuses.”
    â€œThat’s all well and good,” Senator Hammond said. “But today has been reserved for opening statements. Are we to understand that you are passing on that opportunity?”
    â€œThat’s correct.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œAs I said, Senator, I’m here to answer your questions, not to make any kind of a political statement that would in any event be misunderstood.”
    Hammond laughed, and glanced at the others on the committee. “Very well, we’ll leave it at that for today.”
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    On the drive back to Langley Paterson was in an odd, buoyant mood, as if he was happy the way things had gone.
    â€œThey’re either going to hire me, or they’re not, Carleton. But I’m not going to screw around. I’ll tell it like it is.”
    â€œWhen haven’t you?” Paterson asked. “I’m surprised that the President hasn’t phoned already to tell you to cooperate.”

    â€œWe had the discussion two weeks ago. He told me to call them as I saw them.” McGarvey had to smile. “He did ask me to promise not to shoot any of them.”
    Paterson laughed. “There’s at least that.”
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    It was around four when McGarvey got back to his office. His desk was stacked with memos, letters and files. In the couple of hours before he left for home he fended off a dozen phone calls congratulating him on his performance at the hearing. The calls were mostly from old friends, but