-Caveat Lector- an excerpt from: Compromised Clinton, Bush and the CIA Terry Reed & John Cummings�1994 S.P. I. Books/Shapolsky Publishers, Inc. 136 West 22nd Street New York, NY 10011 212-633-2022 212-633-2123FAX ----- The original words on Dubba's coke-transport video. As, always, . . . Om K ----- Gomez had the answer. "Right now, this is Mr. Cathey's project. View him as the big boss. Mr. Bob Johnson in Miami is like a one-man legal oversight committee. You need to be filing all of your reports with him as this progresses. will be operations manager for this project ... if it's a go." The three-hour meeting ended with everyone upbeat. Gomez and Tracta both said they would file a joint report to Cathey, who would make the final decision. It appeared all systems were go, only the money had to be worked out. It was still not clear to Terry what the unidentified man's role was. It was obvious he had been cleared for everything, but it was a mystery who, or what, he truly represented. All Terry knew for sure was that he had a glass eye, an accent he could not quite place, and he left with a copy of the business plan, which had by now been stamped "Top Secret." By now it was dark outside and approaching 8 PM. Terry had not slept for more than 18 stressful hours and the day had been anything but routine. Seal, Tracta and Terry got into the Cessna and flew back to Howard where they spent the night at the bachelor officer's quarters. Despite his exhaustion, Terry couldn't sleep. This had been one hell of a day. He noticed the light from Seal's room coming in from under the door. He walked across the hall and knocked on the door. Seal was lying on his bed just staring at the idle ceiling fan. "Barry, tell me about this Gomez guy. Back in the states, you said he was loose cannon and we had to play ball with him. From what I can see now, he's going to be the guy in charge down here. I can't figure out if he's driven by ideals or greed. Does that bother you?" Seal seemed pensive and in the mood for a philosophical discussion. "Terry, as a young man I had ideals similar ta yours. I was put into play early on with a group of guys wantin' to liberate their country just as your 'freedom fighters' want ta liberate theirs. Anyone whose ideals drive them has ta be a little bit crazy. Gomez falls in that category. My Agency service has pivoted around a group of ragtag Cubans and now, Panamanians. They just come with this business. They're always on the ragged edge between right and wrong and sometimes they'll pull you in there with them. You just gotta keep your own head screwed on straight and remember why you got involved. Don't make their war your war or you can get into real trouble. But all I can tell ya from an Agency point of view, they're the only game in town, at least on this side of the world. If you wanna play this game, you gotta associate with guys like Gomez. They've turned fightin' commies into their own selfish fulltime profession. You don't know what really motivates them, greed or ideals or hatred. But, I agree with you, fuckin' communism is a threat. I may be a wild-ass free enterpriser, but I'm also a patriot." The following morning after a hearty GI breakfast of SOS (shit on a shingle) at the officer's mess, Terry was still trying to absorb all this. For him, it was still new, this sneaking off to a foreign country to hold intelligence briefings. It made him think of Thailand, watching the GIs walking around the Howard Air Base, seemingly barely able to tolerate their surroundings during the Christmas season, gawking back at him and Seal. It reminded him of how envious he had been in Asia while he watched the civilian spooks come and go as they pleased while he toiled in the strict, disciplined environment of the military. That's just how he must have looked to the spooks who operated in Thailand. Now it was his turn to be the envy of the underpaid grunts. At the base operations building, Terry had to oversee the Lear's refueling while Seal and Tracta indicated the need for another private meeting. As the two walked away, Terry could hear Seal say, "Well, I'm sorry Leroy, if they feel like I'm blackmailin' 'em. But this is business and I just gotta do what I gotta do..." At 10 AM, after saying goodbye to Tracta, the two prepared to depart. Terry felt that he would be home for dinner with any luck. He was wondering what new excitement might be awaiting him on the trip back. It didn't take long for him to find out. As soon as the two were airborne, Seal laid it on him. He was full of pent-up emotion and startled his flying companion as they exited Howard airspace. Seal began yelling at the top of his voice, something totally out of character for him. Terry had never seen him this euphoric. "YEE-HAWWWWWW," he screamed. "I'm gonna fuckin' make it. We're gonna do this, Terry. We've got these assholes eatin' outa our hands. YEEHAWWWWWWWWW. Give me the fuckin' airplane." He grabbed the control yoke and executed a series of aileron rolls. Terry had never been sick in an airplane, but he was sure he was about to lose his SOS. "OK, enough of that shit," Seal said after seeming to tire of the acrobatic antics. "You got the airplane, I'll hook up the radios." Terry sat silently at the controls, trying to figure out what was driving Seal. As Barry emerged from under the electrical panel, after making the radio connections, he abruptly began pounding with his right hand on the dash of the Lear until Terry thought the avionics in the control panel would be dislodged. "There ain't nuthin' in this world more powerful than good ol' fuckin' blackmail, Terry. And don't let anybody ever tell ya different. Jeeeeesus Christ, I got some good shit on some big people." "Will you let me in on your party? Calm down, Barry! Tell me what's goin' on. "Terry, what's most important right now is for ya ta play ball with these guys and get your ass down to Mexico ASAP. You impressed the shit out of Leroy... Robert Johnson, too. I won't be able ta come ta Mexico right now, I've got a little matter ta take care of. But ya get on down there and get in a position to receive me, and I'll be joining ya soon. Goddam, this'll be great. Won't it be fun workin' together and spendin' all their fuckin' money?" "What this blackmail, you're talking about?" "Ever hear the old expression, it's not what ya know, it's who ya know? Well, whoever said that just hadn't caught the Vice President's kids in the dope business, 'cause I can tell ya for sure what ya know can definitely be more important than who you know." "You gotta calm down and tell me what you're talking about, if you want me to know. What's this about the Vice President's kids and dope." "I don't wannna tell ya too much, 'cause truthfully ya don't have a need to know. But Terry I been workin' with several federal agencies for the past couple of years as ya probably suspicioned. In the course of that business, a person can't help but run across some real sensitive information. It seems some major players in the Medellin Cartel, whom I personally know, ran across some knowledge that's very valuable to both the Republicans and the Democratic Party. Real national security stuff. It seems some of George Bush's kids just can't say no ta drugs, ha ha ha ha ... Well, ya can imagine how valuable information like that would be, can't ya? That could get ya out of almost any kind of jam." Seal paused for a moment then asked, "Ya ever play Monopoly? The information I got IS SO good it's just like a get-out-of-jail-free card... ha,ha,ha,ha YEEHAWWWWW..." "Barry, are you telling me George Bush's kids are in the drug business?" "Yup, that's what I'm tellin' ya. A guy in Florida who flipped for the DEA has got the goods on the Bush boys. Now I heard this earlier from a reliable source in Colombia, but I just sat on it then, waitin' to use it as a trump card, if I ever needed it. Well, I need ta use it now. I got names, dates, places .... even got some tape recordins'. Fuck, I even got surveillance videos catchin' the Bush boys red-handed. I consider this stuff my insurance policy. It makes me and my mole on the inside that's feelin' the stuff to me invincible. Now this is real sensitive shit inside of U.S. Customs and DEA and those guys are pretty much under control. It's damage control as usual. But where it gets real interestin' is what the Republicans will do ta the Democrats in order ta dirty up the people who might use this information against Bush." "So you've got direct knowledge of the Republicans trying to neutralize some Democrats before they can nuke Bush with this?" "Hell yeah. I've been part of it. Remember that meetin' we had at SOBs when I told ya ya should play ball with these guys and get your butt down ta Mexico and be prepared to receive me? ... Remember in that meetin' I told ya I had a plan to blow the lid off the whole damn Mena deal and shut it down due to adverse publicity? Well, what I didn't tell ya was that project was already in effect, and the Republicans were already trying to neutralize some important people in Arkansas ... namely the Clinton family." Seal took a break to communicate with ground control. When he turned back to Terry, he continued, "Yeah, that day ya explained to me the connection between the Ward family, the Rose Law Firm and the governor's mansion, well .... I about shit! Ya see what ya didn't know was I was on a secret mission by none other than the Agency ta sort of .... uh, dirty up some people real close to the governor. Now I had been workin' on this through Dan Lasater. Now Dan's a good ol' boy and all that, but he's gotta drug problem, and he's got the balls to be stealin' from the Agency, too. From what I hear, Dan's been doin' a lot of questionable out-a-state investin'. In fact, he's stashin' a lot of cash in a resort in New Mexico.* [*Lasater was a major investor in a ski resort called "Angel Fire" near Taos, New Mexico, where Gov. Bill Clinton vacationed at Lasater's expense. Lasater later sold the resort to a savings and loan that eventually failed and was taken over by the Resolution Trust Corporation (RTC).] "I was told ta exploit that, which I was workin' on. But you come along with this new connection. And when ya told me that Finis Shellnut was the guy at the ranch (where the 'green flights' dropped their money in Arkansas)... dollar signs started dancin' in my head. I saw an immediate way to get some white stuff up some noses around Bill Clinton real fast. Now don't get mad, but that duffel bag I had ya take over to Skeeter Ward wasn't really money." "I'm afraid to ask what it was," Terry said as he focused on the "little airplane" displayed on the Lear's flight director. "Let's don't call it cocaine. Let's just call it neutralizin' powder. Least that's the way the Bush family saw it. This is just one family warrin' against another. Just like the Mob." "Goddam, Barry, this is heavy shit! Are you saying you were the source of the cocaine ending up around a lot of important people in Arkansas. Like the ones I've been reading about in the paper. There's a major scandal brewing there..." Terry sat silently and continued to think. Seal gazed out the window and said nothing. Already predicting the answer by Seal's silence, Terry asked, Did you have anything to do with Roger (Clinton) and some of those guys in Lasater's firm getting investigated? "Terry, I told ya when I met ya, I'm in transportation and I transport what the government wants transported. In this case, the Republicans ... the Bush family ... wanted some stuff transported through Mena and into Arkansas that would end up in the noses of some very prominent Democrats. And yes, I must 'fess up, I've had a hand in that. YEEE-HAWWWWWW! It's not who ya know it's what ya know." Terry found all this disquieting. Seal had never discussed drugs with him before, and if Barry was telling the truth, he had unknowingly delivered some to Skeeter Ward. Seal was telling him that he had a hand in the major political storm that was brewing in Arkansas. Terry had not bargained for this sort of involvement. Roger Clinton, the governor's brother, had already been arrested and had pleaded guilty to drug trafficking charges. He was now serving time at a federal prison/drug rehab center in Texas. Rumors abounded that Roger was helping the Feds implicate major figures in the Arkansas financial community for cocaine related crimes. Not only was a federal grand jury investigation getting under way, but panic was already permeating the Arkansas bond business with fears that investor confidence would be shaken if the Feds proved that the bond industry was laundering drug money and its corporate leaders were actually trafficking in drugs. The Feds were targeting Dan Lasater and people in his firm, most of them friends of Governor Clinton. But George Bush's real target, from what Seal was saying, was Bill Clinton and Seal was the instrument that Republicans were using under the guise of the CIA. But Terry was thoroughly confused as this began to sink in. Why would the Agency want the bond business investigated since it was the source of the black ops money being "washed" there? He began to wonder how much of this was the Agency's plan and how much was just Seal's personal plan? Seal seemed to be enjoying all this too much. Maybe this was Barry's way of extricating himself out of some unforeseen mess and into Mexico. Terry was beginning to wonder why Seal would be needed in Mexico, since the Agency already had easy access to Southern Air Transport. SAT definitely was in the transportation business in a big way. Remembering Skeeter Ward's statement about Seal "playin' " with everyone further troubled Terry. It was beginning to sound like Barry was the instigator rather than the tool in this "political sting." Maybe Barry had started out working for the Republicans, but now it appeared he was blackmailing everyone with what he knew. This scared Terry. Where was the Barry Seal he knew and respected? Where was the man who was going to teach him how to "handle the handlers?" If this is what he had meant by "handling the handlers," Terry realized this was a career he wanted no part of. As the two friends sat there in silence, streaking along in the Lear above a layer of clouds, Terry's mood turned to anger. "Barry, I gotta tell you, I'm sitting here pretty pissed off. This whole thing about putting cocaine up people's noses is not what I'm about. We got thrust together by a guy named John Cathey and, up until today, I thought he had Made a great decision in putting the two of us together. But I gotta tell you, I'm having second thoughts about a lot of this. If we continue as friends, you've got to promise me two things. I know the first one goes against the intelligence grain, but you've got to start telling me everything so I can make my own decisions. We're treading into some dangerous territory, it sounds like to me. Ours is getting way beyond a need to know relationship. Second, don't ever put cocaine near me again. If that's what you have to do for the Agency, then you go do it and I don't want to know about it." "Terry, you're my friend and believe me I need friends right now. I'm sorry if I upset you or if I compromised your values. It's hard to run across a person with values these days. They're scarce." The conversation was interrupted by a radio transmission. "Lear one-three-Sierra November, this is Sea Spray. We're painting you direct to Ilopongo, squawking four-six-three-three, level flight level three-four-zero. I assumed you'll be using corridor Whisky Echo, sir, then direct New Orleans after you refuel. Give me your ETD (expected time of departure) out of Ilopongo, and we'll have the window activated for you." "Roger Sea Spray, this is Lear one-three Sierra November. We've got horrible headwinds at this flight level, and they don't get any better any lower. We'll wanna stay high 'til we get to the ADIZ (a coastal defense alert area), then we'll drop down and pretend we're fling-wing traffic 'til we get inland. Can you arrange all that?" "Roger, one-three Sierra November, we'll provide the cover out of El Salvador. Just squawk zero-seven-seven-two for identification when you're off Ilopongo and we'll receive you." The two left Ilopongo at noon after a guarded military refueling, just like on the way down. Then the Mylar masks were reinstalled over the plane's N-number, restoring the Lear's tail number to the one it bore when it left the states. Once airborne and back at altitude, Seal established radio contact with the Army Sea Spray ground controllers who gave him a time hack for reentry into U.S. airspace. This would occur about 200 miles out over the Gulf of Mexico. The Lear then would have to be barely off the water, squawking 1200 and at a speed slow enough that American ATC would not be able to differentiate it from helicopter traffic servicing offshore oil rigs. The Sea Spray service effectively masks the Lear's flight from El Salvador all the way to the ADIZ. Once safely within American-controlled air space the plane landed at New Orleans for a legitimate fuel stop and then on up to Little Rock where Seal dropped Terry off. As they sat in the Lear at Little Rock Seal made a vow. "I'm sorry about the deal with Skeeter. I promise I'll never do it again. Captain, you and I have lotsa good times ahead of us. I've taught ya all I can teach ya'. It's time for you to Solo'." "When will I see you next?" Terry asked, sensing Seal was cryptically establishing some sort of finality to their relationship. What was all this talk about soloing, he wondered. He didn't feel ready to cut the cord. He felt he still needed Seal's instruction on handling the handlers. Without being specific, Seal answered, "I don't know for sure. I've got to attend a legal orgy in Baton Rouge .... a private matter.[*] Be careful with these guys and I'll see ya' soon down south." [* The legal orgy Seal had referred to was a deposition lie was scheduled to give on Friday, December 27, 1985, in Baton Rouge. In the presence of his attorney, Louis Unglesby, he was grilled by Assistant U.S. Attorney Bradley C. Meyers, IRS Special Agents William C. Duncan and Jerry Bize, and Arkansas State Police Investigator Russell Welch, from 1: 18 PM to 3:30 PM. The purpose of the questioning was centered primarily around the cash that was turning up in Arkansas' banks around Mena as a result of Seal having paid for work done to DEA and other federally owned aircraft. This reckless questioning of Seal, under oath, administered by the IRS, clearly showed the difficulty the Agency was experiencing in controlling the security for operations "Jade Bridge" and "Centaur Rose". With the operations either shut down, or by this time moved, what the IRS perceived as a money-laundering of proceeds from narcotics trafficking was still bringing unwanted scrutiny. By reading the transcript of the proceedings, one can clearly see Seal handled himself extremely well that day in keeping the Agency's dirty secrets.] Seal gave Terry a thumbs up, and smiled out of the cockpit window as he started the jet engines of the Lear. It was Terry's last trip on the dark side with Seal, and it was to be his last conversation with him. Seal taxied out, probably still laughing, not knowing his life on earth could now be measured in weeks. pps. 210-216 --(note]-- [2] CIA Base, a computer data base on the CIA, compiled by former intelligence of- ficer Ralph McGehee, Herndon, Virgin[i]a, 1992. ===== CHAPTER 16 A DATE WITH DEATH What a long day it had been. The exhausting trip from Panama had answered a lot of questions, and yet created a lot more. Terry stood by the terminal at The Little Rock Air Center and watched Seal taxi out for takeoff. When the white Lear jet's strobe light became only a distant twinkle moving southeast, he paused to think about the man who had become his personal instructor in dealing with this dark and Byzantine world. He had seen a transformation in Seal over the course of the past two years. He had gone from a confident businessman, seemingly well-established in Baton Rouge, to a man unsure of his future. Terry wasn't sure his friend could any longer control the forces with which he was dealing. Though still cocky, and often arrogant, Seal was beginning to react rather than act, and seemed to be holding something back. And, indeed, he was. Seal had not told Terry everything on their long trip back from Panama. Terry didn't know about the previous five months of Seal's life. Seal had become the most important informant in the history of the Drug Enforcement Administration and had tied the Sandinista government together with the Medellin Cartel. As a result of leaks from Oliver North and the White House, the Cartel had put a $500,000 price on Seal's head. In addition, Seal had handed the DEA three of the best drug cases it had ever had, testifying as the government's chief witness. The DEA was winning plaudits from the White House over the Sandinista "sting, but Seal had been left twisting in the wind. While he was undeniably a major asset for the DEA, he was now a major liability for the CIA and George Bush because of the knowledge he had confided to Terry about Bush's sons. Now Seal just wanted to escape and start life over somewhere else. But that was not going to happen. Terry wanted to escape, too. Even though he felt there was a genuine opportunity for him in the Arkansas business community, he had made a near-deathbed vow to make his life count for something beyond making a good living. And most of all he, like Seal, had become addicted to adrenalin[e]. The black ops world, he believed, had built a foundation for him in Arkansas and he could use it to go in several directions. One would be to remain where he was and build up the network of important people with which he had been dealing. He was orbiting in both high social and political circles. Terry also had accumulated a lot of inside knowledge about the secret CIA-state connection and who the hidden players were, which could be of immense value in the future. p. 217 ----- Aloha, He'Ping, Om, Shalom, Salaam. Em Hotep, Peace Be, Omnia Bona Bonis, All My Relations. Adieu, Adios, Aloha. Amen. Roads End Kris DECLARATION & DISCLAIMER ========== CTRL is a discussion and informational exchange list. Proselyzting propagandic screeds are not allowed. Substance�not soapboxing! 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