Jean MacArthur and kissed her cheek.
“Don’t be silly,” she said. “We don’t see enough of you socially, Fleming.”
“This isn’t exactly social, Jean,” Pickering said.
“For the next ten minutes, it will be, while we have a cocktail and hors d’oeuvres,” MacArthur said.
A Filipino steward offered Pickering a tray, on which sat a squat crystal glass dark with whiskey.
“Your health,” Pickering said, as he picked it up.
“Do you hear often from Patricia?” Jean asked.
“I call her, or she calls me, just about every day,” Pickering said.
“And how, poor dear, is she bearing up?”
“The tough part is not knowing,” Pickering replied honestly.
“And there’s still no word about your son?” MacArthur asked.
“Only in the sense that my station chief in Pusan reports that there is no word that Pick has been captured.”
“And would he know?” Jean MacArthur asked.
“He would,” Pickering said. “Actually, he’s very good at what he does.”
“Forgive me,” MacArthur said. “He didn’t—the CIA didn’t—seem to be able to give us advance knowledge of what happened on June 26.”
My God, if I get into that, I’ll really be in trouble.
“Yes, I know,” Pickering said. “That’s one of the reasons I was sent here, to see if I can prevent a blunder like that from happening again.”
“And I can think of no one better able to do that,” MacArthur said. “Your report will be to Admiral Hillenkoetter, I presume?”
“I haven’t even begun to prepare a report,” Pickering said. “But when I do, it will go to the President.”
“Despite the perhaps unkind things I have said about the OSS in the past, I questioned President Truman’s decision to abolish it immediately after the war,” MacArthur said.
“He seems to have quickly realized his mistake,” Pickering replied. “He formed the CIA several months later.”
“I sometimes wonder . . . ,” MacArthur said. “Let me phrase it this way: President Truman seems to understand what a threat Joseph Stalin and company pose to the world. Frankly, I have often wondered if many of those close to President Roosevelt were similarly concerned. Many of those were still in the upper echelons around President Truman when he abolished the OSS.”
“I’m sure it pleased those people, General,” Pickering said. “But my best information was that it was senior officers of the military who wanted to bury the OSS, and successfully urged Truman to do so.”
“Why would they want to do that?”
“Because they couldn’t control it themselves.”
“That’s a hell of an accusation, Fleming,” MacArthur said, “and let me quickly and emphatically disassociate myself from any group of senior officers . . . I was never asked what I thought should happen to the OSS. Had I been asked, I would have said I felt it to be quite valuable to the nation. And when the CIA was formed, I was delighted when they sent their experts to assist me here.”
Oh, what the hell. I’m going to infuriate him anyway. Why put it off for ten minutes?
“General, the point there is that the CIA wasn’t here to assist you,” Pickering said. “Not in the sense you’re implying. You’re suggesting that you considered them part of your staff, and that implies you controlled them.”
“And you find something wrong with that?”
“To do their job properly, CIA people cannot be subordinate to the local commander,” Pickering said.
“Even to someone like Douglas?” Jean MacArthur said loyally. “I can understand your position, I think, at division level, or corps level, but Douglas is the Supreme Commander! ”
“That’s the point, Jean,” Pickering said. “The more important, the more imposing, the local commander is—and I submit that your husband is the most important and most imposing of all the commanders I know of—the less likely the CIA man is to challenge his judgment. And he is supposed to think, and act, independently.”
“Would you say that applies to our relationship?” MacArthur asked.
“Yes, sir, I would,” Pickering said. “Our friendship aside, I really think you were happier before I came here, when the CIA station chief thought of himself—and you thought of him—as a member of your staff, and you both behaved accordingly.”
“You apparently don’t think much of your CIA station chief,” MacArthur said.
“Or maybe Douglas, either,” Jean said. “Fleming, I never thought I’d hear you talk like this—”
“Jean, you know better than that,” Pickering interrupted. “My admiration for Douglas is bottomless, as an officer and a man.”
“It certainly doesn’t sound like it,” she said.
Pickering turned to face MacArthur.
“The only reason I haven’t relieved the station chief is that I’m afraid his replacement might be even worse.”
“In what sense?” MacArthur said icily.