Charlie Wilson's War (33 page)

“So, how many reasons have you come up with this week not to do anything, Mr. Coburn?” Wilson asked Cogan. A week after their unpleasant last encounter, Wilson did not yet understand that the Agency’s leadership was united in its opposition to the Oerlikon. He proceeded to heap abuse on Cogan: “You just don’t give a shit about the mujahideen, do you? The Vietcong shot down two thousand of our helicopters in Vietnam. How many have you shot down?”

Cogan had initiated this meeting. The Agency was obligated to spell out how it wanted to spend the non-Oerlikon portion of the appropriation, and Cogan wanted to know how much flexibility it had.

Wilson says, “He came in to talk to me about the boots and blankets and shit. And I said, ‘Fuck this, Coburn! What about the fucking guns?’” Cogan said they were initiating several steps. “Yes,” Wilson yelled back, “and the fucking helicopters are killing people right this second while you are studying. As best as I can tell, you ain’t got but two things to study because that language says ‘a cannon.’” Wilson then spelled out the choices to him: “Either buy the Oerlikon or the ZSU twenty-three-millimeter Soviet gun.” (It was the only other applicable cannon.)

Only at one point did Avrakotos intervene, suggesting that the Oerlikon would force the Afghans to defend fixed positions instead of relying on more effective hit-and-run guerrilla tactics. “We’d just end up losing the Oerlikons, which cost a hundred thousand dollars each, or the Afghans would all die trying to defend them.”

Wilson was completely unimpressed with Avrakotos and his argument. “I don’t care if you lose them all, just so long as one Soviet helicopter is shot down. If it takes ten million dollars’ worth of Oerlikons to shoot down one ten-million-dollar Hind, that’s a good investment. And if you shoot down two, you’re way ahead,” he said.

Gust found himself agreeing with the argument. In fact, he found himself secretly agreeing with almost everything Wilson was saying. At one point, Cogan slipped and told Wilson that the Oerlikon just cost too much and he wanted to use the money for other things. “You either buy these cannons or you take that money and stick it up your ass,” Wilson said. But Cogan wouldn’t back off.

It became clear to Wilson that he was up against something far bigger than Chuck Cogan. In any other year he would have gone to the mats immediately, but an old politician’s instinct told him that Cogan, the Agency, Stillwell, and all the others were just waiting him out. They read the papers, and the headlines about his upcoming primary said it all: “Good-Time Charlie in Trouble,” “Wilson’s Lifestyle Tests Supporters,” “Shenanigans Could Cost Representative Wilson.”

For the first time since he had come to Congress in 1973 he was in trouble at home. His all-forgiving constituents were reconsidering the blind support they had always offered their playboy congressman. A collection of Democratic challengers smelled blood, and so, Wilson suspected, did the CIA.

Charlie Wilson—The Texas Congressman was obsessed with finding a weapon to bring down the lethal Soviet Hind helicopter.

Joanne Herring, the woman who inspired Charlie to champion the Afghans.

Charles Fawcett in
Afghanistan
—the man who enlisted Joanne to the jihad.

Joanne using her wiles to convert powerful congressman Clarence “Doc” Long to the cause. “Them that has the gold, makes the rules.”—Doc Long

Gust and Charlie in Egypt, buying weapons for the jihad “What brought us together was chasing pussy and killing Communists.”—Gust Avrakotos, explaining his relationship with Charlie

Field Marshal Mohammed Abu Ghazala, Egypt’s minister of defense, admiring Charlie’s belly dancer, Carol Shannon

Gust with Charlie and his belly dancers

Milt Bearden, the CIA station chief who presided over the final victory

Mike Vickers, the CIA’s brilliant young strategist, and Art Alper, the grandfatherly demolitions expert