aeronautical genius, has gone off to sell his talents to a country whose
whole interest in science is geared to its aggressive potential in other
words, Hitler"s Third Reich."
"So?" Taylor said.
"So, since the Third Reich is devoted to war, we should be keeping
tabs on Wilson but we can"t do it because we don"t have the
necessary intelligence-gathering organization."
"But we do have that."
"No," Bradley insisted, "we don"t. What we have is an
uncoordinated collection of different intelligence agencies. Army
Intelligence, or G2; the Office of Naval Intelligence; the FBI; the
Secret Service; the State Department; the Customs and Immigration services; the Federal Communications System Service; and the Treasury"s Foreign Funds Control Unit not one of which deals with
the others, let alone recognizing them."
"So?"
"So what we need is a centralized, coordinated intelligence, like the
British Secret Intelligence Service."
"A sort of Central Intelligence Agency," Taylor said.
"Right, General. You got it"
"Ah!" the general exclaimed softly. "So that"s why you came all the
way from New York to see me, instead of using the phone. You want
to ride your favourite hobbyhorse again and persuade me to include
you in the formation of a proper, coordinated intelligence-gathering
agency. Have I got it right, Mike?"
"Yes, General, you have. I"m a highly successful, thirty-eight-yearold lawyer with a plush office in Manhattan, but the best time I ever
had in my life was during the war."
"So I gathered," the general said. "The Distinguished Service Cross,
the Distinguished Service Medal, and the Medal of Honor..." "Right," Bradley interjected. "Which proves I"m a survivor and
that I"m willing to hang in when the chips are down."
"No argument there," the general murmured. "Come on, let" s head
back."
They turned away from the river, heading back to where the men
with the saws and hammers and nails were swarming like flies over the
frames of buildings that would soon house a branch of army air force