Here's a rare glimpse of former CIA operative Chuck McFadden in
disguise as "Carlos Ben Ali,
the Mighty Swordsman" during
his daring escape from the
Republic of Isaacstan. His female
companion is not shown because
she was not properly clothed
by the time he finishing rescuing her
--and this is a family website.
Oprah! Oh, Oprah, Dear!
Do we have one for you!
By CHUCK McFADDEN
It was shortly after I had engineered the coup that deposed the corrupt ruler of Petrostan that the Director of the Central Intelligence Agency summoned me to his office at Langley.
Good work in Petrostan, he said. General Motors has already stepped up its production of SUVs, and I understand Ford is coming out with a new one that weighs five tons and gets three miles per gallon of gas.
I blushed slightly. Praise from the Director was rare indeed.
I understand it wasnt exactly a slam dunk, the Director continued. I like that you managed to enlist on your side the National Association of Young Men Who Shoot Guns Into the Air Like Idiots. That shows real initiative.
Thank you, I said. There is one bit of unfinished business, though, that I must take care of before I can get closure on this little caper.
The Director raised his eyebrows inquiringly.
The beautiful daughter of the now-deposed corrupt ruler of Petrostan has been thrown into a dungeon by the not-yet-deposed corrupt ruler of neighboring *Isaacstan, I said. I must perforce go there and rescue her. God knows what shape her mascara must be in by now.
Of course, the Director said. One favor. On the way over there, would you mind dropping by Iraq and taking care of things? You know its getting a bit messy in Baghdad and I dont want the situation there to get out of control. Shouldnt take you more than a day or two, if that.
Id be glad to, I replied.
You are our best secret, freelance operative, the director said. Ordinarily, I wouldnt waste your talents on some secondary theater of operations such as Iraq, but since youre going to be in the neighborhood
Dont give it another thought, I replied. Glad to help.
I left on the Concorde from Dulles the next morning, hoping I would arrive in *Isaacstan before the beautiful daughter had yet another bad hair day languishing in the dungeon.
As promised, I dropped into Baghdad enroute and managed to vanquish the insurgents, set up a democratic government and increase oil production by 3,000 per cent. The Iraqis wanted to have a gigantic demonstration of thanksgiving and gratitude, but I vetoed the idea.
No, you just enjoy your new democracy and being a staunch Mideast ally of the United States, I told them. That is thanks enough for me.
Then I proceed in disguise to *Isaacstan, where I came upon the ancient castle with the dungeon. It was a moonlit night, fortunately. I was able to scale the castle walls easily. Using a rope that someone had carelessly left dangling on the wall, I swung across the courtyard and crashed through the window of the guards mess hall and taproom, catching them by surprise.
With a bit of quick swordplay, I subdued them, and ran down the stone steps to the dungeon, carrying a flaming torch to light my way.
My hero! the beautiful daughter cried as she saw me come into sight.
I unlocked the heavy door of iron bars with a flick of my wrist.
Quickly, my love. There is no time to waste, I whispered. We must make haste to the fully fueled F-16 with two seats that I have cached in a nearby cave next to a landing strip.
As we flashed by high above the moonlit desert landscape en route to the secret CIA base in Monaco, I had to fight off the attempts of the beautiful daughter to give me her body.
Please, my dear, it would a trifle awkward here in the cockpit of this jet fighter, streaking at 650 mph across the moonlit desert landscape, I protested.
But I am wild for you! she said passionately.
Perhaps when we arrive at the secret CIA pied-a-terre in Paris, I said. I can then devote my full attention to ravishing you.
Oh, goody! she exclaimed. Can you get this thing to go any faster?
DISCLAIMER: Some of the events related in this memoir did not occur exactly as described. The author deeply regrets any misapprehensions that may have arisen as a result of reading the description of the overthrow of the ruler of Petrostan, the interview with the Director of the CIA, the events in Iraq and *Isaacstan, the flight in the F-16 and the existence of a CIA base in Monaco, along with the secret CIA pied-a-terre in Paris. The beautiful daughter is a composite of all the women I have dreamed about who in reality wouldnt have been seen with me in public on a bet.
I will, however, return the call from Oprah. Sales of the Memoir really took off after my appearance on her television program, but she says now she really, really needs to talk with me.
*The Republic of Isaacstan is ©2001 by Stan Isaacs.
©2006 by Charles M. McFadden. The McFadden caricature is ©2001 by Jim Hummel. The cartoon, with certain elements added, is from IMSI's Master Clips Collection, 1895 Francisco Blvd. East, San Rafael, CA, 94901-5506, USA. This column first posted on Feb. 20, 2006.
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