GOING OPERATIONAL 95I knew I was on shaky ground. I’d agreed to go wherever the CIA sent
me, and the small Africa station was a good, tough first assignment. If I’d
refused the offer, I likely would have been fired. It was not my place to ques-
tion the CIA’s personnel gods, especially so early in my career. But I’m a
lawyer and a Libra, and sometimes I just can’t help myself. It would not be
the last time I’d try and buck the CIA bureaucracy.
Much to my surprise, after mulling it over for a day or two, Mr. Price
called me into his office and told me he agreed with me, with the emphatic
caveat that I’d better do one hell of a good job in Latin America. I thanked
him and assured him I would not let him down. I immediately walked down
the corridor to meet with the PEMS (personnel) officer for Latin America
Division to tell her the good news. (But not before hazing a new CT by telling
her she had to shout her badge number just before dropping a classified burn
bag down the chute to the downstairs furnace. I did my part to ensure this
fun CIA tradition lived on.) The PEMS officer was grateful to have a newly
minted officer who already spoke Spanish, and she gave me my choice of
assignments. I could go anywhere I wanted in Latin America.
My objective was to work in a station where I’d be given serious
responsibility from day one. I chose a strategically important country with
a medium-size station, run by a tough and respected COS. Since the CIA’s
current rules prohibit me from identifying the city or country where I was
posted, I will refer to both the country and the capital city, where I lived, as
“Palmera.” In Palmera Station they’d expect me to hit the ground running,
and if I kept up with the pace I would be assured of gaining a broad range
of operational experience. I’d handle important existing agents; produce
intelligence reports; spot, assess, develop, and recruit new agents; and also
take on one of the CIA’s largest and most effective programs. Palmera was
a hard-target-rich and relatively benign operating environment, crawling
with Soviet and other bloc officials, as well as Cubans, Libyans, Chinese,
and Sandinistas. I’d also handle a sensitive asset from Nicaragua.
In other words, Palmera was manna for spies. Plus, it was a low-cost
tropical paradise, with great restaurants, a nonstop social life, and lots of
in-country travel opportunities. It was the perfect assignment for a first-
tour CIA officer looking to make a name for himself.
After I took a month of operational and refresher Spanish at CIA lan-
guage school with some native Spanish-speaking instructors, Stacy and I