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was not only the discipline and duty of the officer, but of his
entire family as well. Once a CIA family s cover was estab-
lished, in many cases with alias names, the Central Cover Staff
at Headquarters became actively involved in their personal
lives. The Agency handled credit and real estate references, as
well as banking queries. It even vouched for parents employ-
ment on their children s college applications. Karen and I were
learning to use cover effectively in the States, preparing us for
overseas assignments.
After more than a year on the job, however, I started to worry
that I might not make it overseas any time soon. The line for
artists jobs at TSD bases abroad seemed to be getting longer.
Finally on an afternoon in May 1966, I heard that TSD was
putting together another TOPS class.
That night after dinner, I took Karen aside.  I m going to
toss my hat into the ring for the class, I vowed.
A week later, I was in Phil s office.  You weren t selected
for the TOPS class, he said, with an edge to his voice.  You
know the basic requirement for the program is a previous
overseas assignment in your primary skill.
 I ll keep trying any way I can, I said.  But if I can get
overseas as an artist, that s fine with me.
 Artists are a dime a dozen! he said.  We can always get
another artist.
This statement was foolish, and I challenged him.  It takes
a long time to train a TSD artist, and I m proud to be one. I d
just like to work overseas. That s one of the reasons I joined
the Agency.
Phil was clearly annoyed by my persistence.  Well, Rick is
going to the Far East this year, and next year it s Joe s turn.
You ll just have to hang in there.
Rick was scheduled for his assignment as a senior artist in
June,
60 / ANTONIO J. MENDEZWITH MALCOLM MCCONNELL
and no one was due back from Europe for a while. I was faced
with a stagnation for at least two more years in the bullpen.
Leaving Phil s office, I was more determined than ever to
persevere and press for as much training as I could get.
I soon found an opportunity to speak with Dr. Gottlieb, now
the chief of TSD. The TOPS program was originally one of his
concepts.
 How are things going over in Graphics? he asked.
 Fine, I said.  But I did apply for TOPS training this year.
 I know, he said kindly,  and I hope you keep trying.
Instead of departing like a schoolboy, I held my ground.  I d
like to get the RCA electronics course out of the way. This
was a correspondence course required of all TOPS graduates.
If I could complete it in advance, I d be ahead of the curve.
Phil was not amused when he learned that Dr. Gottlieb had
ordered the course for me. But I told Franco that I needed to
advance in the Agency. Trying to raise three young children
on my salary wasn t easy. Karen and I had furnished our small
rented house after scouring swap shops and garage sales. Our
evening  cocktail hour meant splitting a single can of beer,
and once a month on payday, we took the kids to McDonald s.
Although I had put a workshop and an art studio in the base-
ment, we lived from check to check. The prize money I d won
from two best-of-shows at local art exhibitions had come in
handy, but had quickly disappeared.
Then, during the week before Christmas of 1966, Franco
called me into his office.  You re the next artist in line for a
PCS overseas. PCS meant permanent change of station. He
smiled broadly.  But you ll have to hustle through intensive
training to join Rick in the Far East next June.
 How did this happen? I was flabbergasted.
THE MASTER OF DISGUISE / 61
 You ve been doing a great job, and management thinks
you re the best qualified. Besides, Rick requested you.
Overseas! I had trouble containing my excitement and
couldn t wait to tell Karen. But as I entered the bullpen, I saw
Joe watching me. I d managed to surpass him not through
backroom deals, but through hard work.
He smiled and offered his hand.  Congratulations. You de-
serve the assignment.
 Camp Swampy, Virginia, March 1967 "  The Farm was a
sprawling ten-thousand-acre facility of prime tidewater real
estate near Williamsburg, Virginia, where I took the OPS FAM
(Operations Familiarization) Course. It was the place where
Agency officers headed overseas learned their tradecraft. Al-
though shorter than the Operations Course that case officers
had to pass, OPS FAM also had the intensity of elite military
training. For six weeks, we would be in isolation, learning to
walk in the shoes of agents and their case officers during CIA
field operations. To heighten the somewhat spartan atmosphere
and the serious purpose of the course, we worked in alias and
wore military uniforms.
 Arthur Masters, the man in Army fatigues behind the
counter said, staring at me. It took me a second to remember
that this was the alias I d been assigned. Thirty-some students
were standing in line at the uniform warehouse, where the bus
had dropped us off on this first day. The supply clerk handed
over a pile of highly starched khaki he d assembled based on
the size slip I had submitted.
 What size boot? he barked.
 Nine and a half, I replied, an octave too high. I could have
been a seventeen-year-old private in Marine boot camp.
The bus took us back to the BOQ area, where we changed
into our
62 / ANTONIO J. MENDEZWITH MALCOLM MCCONNELL
khaki uniforms and assumed an even murkier identity than
our aliases. Since there was a case officer OPS course already
under way, the sense of being part of a much larger clandestine
effort was enhanced.
Our lectures and tradecraft demonstrations took place in
Arena A and Arena B, modern brick buildings hidden by trees [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]