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Authors: Newt Gingrich,Pete Earley

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BOOK: Treason
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CHAPTER EIGHT

House Permanent Select Committee on Intelligence suite

Capitol Visitor Center

Washington, D.C.

I
t appears you were less than candid with me the last time we met,” Representative Thomas Edgar Stanton, chairman of the House Permanent Select Committee on Intelligence, complained as he peered over the half-glasses on the tip of his nose.

CIA Director Payton Grainger wore the face of a riverboat gambler. There was no noticeable shift in his gray eyes, no unconscious lifting of an eyebrow, no nervous twitch. If Chairman Stanton hoped to rattle the Harvard-educated lawyer seated across from him in his office, he'd failed.

The fact that he could not read or intimidate Grainger frustrated Chairman Stanton. At age sixty-eight, the snow-white-haired legislator was a legend on Capitol Hill. There were forty-six committee chairmen in the 435-member House of Representatives, but whenever anyone uttered the phrase “The Chairman,” everyone knew they were speaking about the South Carolinian. On most days, he came across as a grandfatherly figure. Not today. There was nothing genteel about his demeanor. He was angry because he knew Grainger had lied to him about Somalia, and Stanton didn't take kindly to being played a fool.

His adversary, Director Grainger, was a decade younger than the Chairman but was equally experienced in Washington political aerobatics. Ironically, both men had arrived in the nation's capital within a few weeks of each other. Chairman Stanton had been in his early thirties when he'd been elected to serve the first of what now was eighteen two-year terms in the House. Grainger had arrived fresh after graduating magna cum laude at Penn State and having the Navy assign him to the Pentagon. As he'd risen through the ranks, the military had paid for his Ivy League law degree and Grainger had become more of a skilled Washington insider than a soldier.

Few knew how to swim better in Washington's Capitol Hill shark tank.

Joining the two men in their meeting was White House chief of staff Mallory Harper, but she was choosing to remain silent for the moment while Stanton accused Grainger of deceiving him.

“Mr. Chairman,” Grainger began, speaking without inflection, “you have accused me of being less than candid, an accusation that is both inaccurate and personally offensive.”

“Excuse me, sir,” Stanton interrupted, “but during our last conversation, did you not tell me that your agency had no advance knowledge that our embassy in Mogadishu was about to be attacked by Al-Shabaab?”

Grainger didn't answer that question directly. Instead, he said, “You are basing your accusation on a single NSA telephone intercept—a telephone call that was overheard in Somalia.”

“Yes, that's exactly what I am basing it on. My staff has obtained a copy of that NSA intercepted call, and two Al-Shabaab terrorists can be clearly heard on it discussing how they are about to attack our embassy. And that intercepted call was, in fact, delivered to your agency four hours prior to the attack. Director Grainger, it's obvious that your agency had prior knowledge, which is not what you told me when we last spoke about Somalia. You misled me.”

“With all due respect, Mr. Chairman, there are several logical explanations that do not include deception on my part.”

“Then let's hear them.”

“First, we receive thousands and thousands of NSA intercepts every day and—”

Stanton cut him short. He wasn't about to let Grainger dance his way through this. “I'm sure the agency receives thousands of intercepted messages, but I only care about this one—the message that warned you an attack was going to take place in four hours, an attack that ultimately cost thirteen American lives, an attack that could have been prevented. One would assume that intercept would have been a priority.”

“Mr. Chairman, if you will permit me to continue, I'll answer your question,” Grainger said, although he had no intention of actually doing that. “If NSA records show that the NSA delivered that intercepted call to us four hours prior to the attack, then I have no reason to doubt it. However, that doesn't mean my people were aware of the contents of that single message.”

“Are you suggesting that no one bothered to read it?” Stanton replied in an incredulous voice.

Early in his career, Grainger had learned one way to avoid answering a question was by asking a question in return. “If I may make a comparison,” he said. “How long does it take for a letter from one of your constituents to reach your office after it is delivered to the Capitol's internal post office?”

Before Stanton could react, Grainger added, “And, Mr. Chairman, if I may ask, do you know if the NSA translated that intercept before it was sent to my agency or if it simply forwarded it with others without indicating that it was a high priority message?”

Like the skilled lawyer he was, Grainger already knew the answer to his own question. The NSA had not transcribed the telephone intercept before passing it along to the CIA. He also knew that the Somali translator at the CIA responsible for reading NSA intercepts had gone home sick on the Saturday afternoon when the intercept had been delivered. If necessary, he could mention that complication as a possible explanation for why the CIA had failed to alert the U.S. embassy about the pending attack.

But Grainger also realized that if Stanton looked beyond those red herrings, he would find an ugly truth. Grainger had not been
transparent
—a euphemism that he preferred to lying—when he'd last been questioned by the Chairman. The CIA had been warned of the impending embassy attack four hours before it had happened. One of Grainger's subordinates had alerted Gunter Conner, the CIA station chief, and had ordered him to rush the ambassador and his staff to the Mogadishu airport for an emergency flight out of the Somali capital before they could be taken hostage. But Conner had ignored that direct command, then the embassy had been overrun, hostages had been taken, Americans had been killed, and Payton Grainger, who had built his government career on honesty, had engaged in a cover-up. He
had
lied to the Chairman to protect the agency, to protect himself, and to protect President Allworth, who had been in the midst of a too-close-to-call reelection campaign. Had the public learned that the CIA had allowed Al-Shabaab to attack its embassy, which is what Conner had knowingly done, President Allworth would have lost the election.

Until today's meeting, Grainger had thought he'd covered up the scandal, especially after Gunter Conner had been murdered in Germany. But somehow the Chairman had unearthed a copy of the damning NSA intercept, and he was on the verge of pulling a string that would bring Grainger's career to a disgraceful end, embarrass the agency, and undoubtedly humiliate President Allworth.

“I'm not interested in excuses,” the Chairman snapped. “Just answer my question. Did you or your agency know in advance that our embassy was about to be attacked?”

Grainger was formulating his reply when White House Chief of Staff Harper finally decided to join their conversation. She had not asked Grainger if the CIA had known in advance that the embassy was about to be attacked. She didn't want to know. Her job was to protect the president from a scandal and, in this instance
not
asking or knowing gave her plausible deniability and seemed the prudent course. There might come a time when the White House might need to toss Grainger to the wolves, but Harper wasn't prepared to do that, at least not yet.

“Chairman Stanton,” she said, “we've heard you're planning on holding investigative hearings into the Somali affair.”

“Affair?” Stanton repeated, shifting his piercing stare from Grainger to the forty-something Harper. “What happened at our embassy was a bit more than an affair, wouldn't you agree? The words ‘colossal disaster' and ‘Benghazi' come to mind.”

Up until this moment, Stanton had respected and admired Grainger. But the Chairman had never respected nor admired Harper. He thought she was pushy and arrogant, and while those traits were not uncommon in Washington, she was a political newcomer and hadn't yet earned the right to be either. The president had recruited Harper from one of the nation's most profitable Internet software companies. Coming from the corporate world, she wasn't used to having her decisions questioned or criticized. Since taking charge at the White House, she had earned a well-deserved reputation for being brash, blunt, and dismissive. Stanton had another reason for not liking her. He'd learned that opening an embassy in Mogadishu had been her bonehead idea. He also suspected that she had urged the president to open that embassy for purely political reasons, making the president's reelection a higher priority than national security.

Stanton glanced down at a stack of papers on his desk and began searching through them. “Has there been a written change in our Constitution?” he asked facetiously. “The last time I read it, Congress had oversight responsibilities.”

“No, Mr. Chairman,” Harper replied, without trying to conceal the disgust in her tone. “The president is not telling you what you can and can't investigate.” Shooting a glimpse at Grainger, she continued, “Clearly mistakes were made in Mogadishu. And the president has asked Director Grainger to conduct an internal investigation. But holding a congressional hearing at this time would not be prudent and, in fact, could greatly aid our enemies.”

“And exactly how would investigating the embassy takeover ‘affair' be aiding our enemies?”

“Exposing our vulnerabilities in Somalia could make our embassies throughout Africa and the Middle East easier targets for ISIS, Al-Qaeda, or other radicals.”

“Ms. Harper,” Stanton said, as if he were lecturing a student, “I have been chairman of this committee a long, long time and I have never once—”

“That's correct,” Harper said, daring to interrupt him. “All of us are well aware of your longevity. House rules impose an eight-year limit on how long a member of Congress can serve on this committee, but your colleagues have given you a permanent exemption for the past two decades. I'm certain you are aware of how important the president and our party's support of your leadership has been.”

Her comment caught him off guard. Nearly all threats in Washington were hidden between the lines and Stanton suspected Harper was making one now. She was warning him that the president would lobby his colleagues to have him removed as chairman if he pushed for a hearing into Somalia.

“Mr. Chairman,” Grainger said, rejoining their conversation, “I don't believe anyone is trying to stop you from holding a hearing into what happened in Mogadishu.”

Stanton knew that was exactly what Grainger and Harper both were doing, but he let the CIA director continue speaking.

“All we are suggesting is that you wait,” Grainger said in an accommodating voice. “The embassy was attacked four months ago. We need adequate time to investigate it thoroughly.”

More time
, Stanton thought,
for you to cover up mistakes
. Stanton decided to play their game.

“And when do you anticipate this internal probe of yours to be finalized?” he asked.

“Obviously, we are moving as fast as we can,” Grainger replied, “and making great progress, but speed is not as important as thoroughness, wouldn't you agree? You mentioned Benghazi. Remember all of the accusations and confusion sparked by that embassy attack? You must give us time to collect and verify our information. Rushing a hearing also could adversely impact our search for those responsible.”

“How would my conducting a hearing adversely impact your hunt for terrorists, such as the Falcon?”

“Questions asked during a hearing could inadvertently reveal our investigative techniques and sources,” Grainger responded.

This is what always happens with the CIA
, Stanton thought.
Claim that transparency would jeopardize national security.

Stanton leaned back in his office chair. Why had the president sent her White House chief of staff and CIA director to dissuade him? Was it possible there was more to this scandal than what he'd already learned, something beyond the NSA intercept that had given the agency a four-hour warning? Was the White House also hiding information from him, his committee, and the American people? Stanton had heard rumors that President Allworth had secretly agreed to pay Al-Shabaab terrorists a ransom if the hostages being held in Mogadishu were freed before the November president elections. That would be a scandal on par with the legendary Watergate cover-up. That would explain why Mallory Harper was teaming up with Director Grainger to stop him from delving into what really happened in Somalia.

Early in his career, Stanton had discovered that witnesses who testified before his committee often became nervous if he simply sat quietly for a few moments and didn't immediately ask follow-up questions.

For several uncomfortable moments, he said nothing. He shifted his piercing gaze from Harper to Grainger and then back again.

Harper avoided his stare by glancing at her Fitbit. “Mr. Chairman,” she said impatiently, “our president has been attacked by terrorists. I suspect voters in your district would view a hearing whose intent was to expose possible mistakes our government made in Somalia very negatively at a moment when we should be unified in our determination to defeat our adversaries.”

BOOK: Treason
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