Within Arm's Length: A Secret Service Agent's Definitive Inside Account of Protecting the President (34 page)

This entire six-month debacle was much to do over nothing but was significant in that it marked the beginning of a new era for the Secret Service in terms of political correctness and acquiescing to certain groups that complained of being singled out when going along with the program like everyone else did not suit them.

During the course of the inspection and subsequent to 141’s graduation, I continued to teach physical training and the protection syllabus to all SATC classes. As always, I did my best to prepare these young men and women to survive in a world that is not politically correct, and where there is no gender norming. In that world, there are those who would kill a person because that person carries a badge, and none of these predators care if the carrier of the badge is a man or a woman. I remained determined that no student under my instruction and leadership would ever meet such a fate because I had not done enough to prepare them.

AMERICA AT WAR

On Tuesday, September 11, 2001, I was teaching a practical exercise when an instructor told me that an airliner had flown into the World Trade Center. I had a bad feeling that it was not an accident, although no details were yet available. While assigned to New York and living in New Jersey, I had on many occasions rented a plane and flown up the Hudson corridor past the Trade Center. There was no way even a half-assed pilot could accidentally fly into either tower in the perfect weather experienced on the East Coast that day.

As I continued with my instruction, another instructor brought news that another plane had flown into the other tower of the Trade Center. Now I knew that we were at war, and I correctly guessed that Osama bin Laden and al-Qaeda were behind it.

America was catching hell on 9/11, and I knew that training division was about to catch hell as a result. The automatic response of the US government in times of violent crisis is to hire more people. The Secret Service began hiring agents in record numbers to fill the newly authorized slots. It meant that we would be training classes six days per week for the foreseeable future.

I realized that due to the numbers involved and the shortage of instructors, I would probably be made course coordinator yet again, although I hoped it would be otherwise. In the time since the inspection, per my request I had not been given another class as a coordinator, and I was quite satisfied to teach the normal syllabus.

One day in 2002, my concern was realized. I returned from taking a class for a run to find my boss waiting for me in my office. He told me that, due to the number of classes under way, it was necessary for me to be assigned as the course coordinator for the next class coming aboard. He also informed me that the son of the director of the United States Secret Service would be a member of this group. Training legacies was nothing new, and most were decent students, although this would be the first son of a director to pass through the academy. Fortunately, things turned out well.

With nineteen years on the job and one year to go before I would be eligible for retirement, I proceeded to run this class with the usual reckless abandon, director’s son and all, with no concern about anything other than not killing a student.

There were some weak sisters in the class, and I don’t mean women. Several of the men had to be repeatedly counseled due to their lack of motivation and effort. The admission of many students with motivational issues was a result of mistakes in the hiring process that were prevalent for about one year following 9/11. Any time a small, elite organization expands too quickly, standards falter and quality can suffer.

In one particularly horrid case, an SAIC was summoned from his office to headquarters for the purpose of explaining in person to the director why he had hired a particularly problematic agent trainee. Following this appearance, the assistant director of training asked me for a retention or dismissal recommendation regarding this student. I recommended dismissal, explaining that this was the worst student I had seen during my eight years as an instructor and producing irrefutable documentation in support of my claim. The student graduated nonetheless.

From 2002 to 2003, about one third of the students in each class—eight students—were fireballs who loved training and would develop into fine agents; one third were average Caspar Milquetoast types; and one third essentially had no business being in armed law enforcement at any level. As the other instructors and I did our best to straighten out some of these mistakes, my boss said to me one day, “Dan, you can’t make chicken salad out of chicken shit.” I continued to don my magician hat and try, as I was being paid twice a month. Fortunately, due to strong leadership from the director, by the time I left training in 2003 this unfortunate episode in Secret Service history had largely reversed itself.

The class that would be my last as a course director finished their training with no major incidents other than the usual complaints from some about the perceived severity of the fitness program. After their graduation, I went about my regular instructor duties and forgot about them. With eight years in training and nearly two thousand students under or over the bridge, it was easy to forget a class the minute they walked out the door, and all students were beginning to look exactly the same to me.

HAVE SOME BALLS, AGENT

The indispensable trait of courage is a large part of the Secret Service culture and has been demonstrated by its agents countless times over the years. Many of these examples of courage are well documented, such as Tim McCarthy taking a bullet meant for President Reagan, while many others that occur each day will never be known by anyone outside the Secret Service.

Agents need high levels of both moral and physical courage to face the numerous challenges and dangers that arise over the course of a career. The necessity for this trait in an agent was perhaps summed up best one day at a Secret Service agent graduation in very black-and-white terms.

The keynote speaker at Secret Service agent graduations is usually a retired agent. Many of them still live in the DC area, which makes them easily available. The speeches are usually too long, hard to follow, too much about the accomplishments of the speaker, and boring. The students, soon to be real agents, have been in training for six months and care little for the keynote speaker’s words. They really just want to go home for some well-earned R & R.

I attended many such graduations as an instructor. There was one I will never forget; nor will anyone else who attended. The guest speaker was Red Auerbach, now deceased, former coaching great of the Boston Celtics.

As we instructors sat in our seats looking forward to hearing this icon of American sports speak, we could not help but notice the aromatic scent of a cigar somewhere in the area. Of course, this was not possible, as there was no smoking allowed any longer in government buildings. To light any tobacco product in a government facility could result in death by lecture from some offended, by-the-book type who could recite the regulation forbidding such conduct.

When Red took the podium, it became clear where the aroma was coming from. Red stood there halfway slumping over the podium and microphone, ready to begin his remarks with a lit cigar. He began his speech with some amusing anecdotes about coaching the Celtics and kept his audience highly entertained. As he began to wind down, he suddenly became dead serious, paused for effect, stared at the graduates, and proclaimed in a low bulldog voice to all the newly commissioned agents that throughout their careers they should above all else “have some balls.” For those not familiar with the phrase, it is a metaphor for having physical and moral courage—the willingness to face danger and stand for what one believes, no matter the price.

As I listened, I thought that no truer words had ever been spoken. As Red gave this, the most memorable speech I ever heard at an agent graduation, he smoked that giant, wonderfully offensive cigar, blue smoke drifting up past the No Smoking signs in the auditorium. He cared nothing about offending anyone or about some sign proclaiming “No Smoking.” He had been the invited guest speaker and was going to do and say what he damn well pleased. Red Auerbach came from a time in American history when men drank whiskey and beer with their giant hamburgers and steaks, not daiquiris and white wine with their salads. They also smoked cigars in public places if they wished.

One could almost hear the politically correct upper management from headquarters squirming in their seats on the stage. They worried that, with so many civilians in attendance, the Service image would suffer. As far as I know, no one complained, and Red Auerbach’s words were a good reminder to all in attendance to get back to the basics. To Red, balls mattered, and all should have them, especially in a profession such as the Secret Service. “Have some balls”; damned good advice, Coach. By the way, no one had the balls to tell or ask Red to put out the cigar.

PROMOTION AND RETURN TO PPD

One uneventful day in 2002, I was teaching a class when my boss walked into the classroom and announced that I had been promoted to GS-14, assistant to the special agent in charge (ATSAIC) in the training division. He then walked out and left me with my class. While I was happy to finally be promoted, I had not really been expecting this good news and was a bit in shock over the matter for the remainder of the class, as well as the remainder of the day.

The following afternoon I received a telephone call from the director of the Secret Service, Brian Stafford, congratulating me on the promotion. I appreciated his taking the time to call and thanked him for his personal involvement in the matter. Afterward I sat at my desk and, in spite of the No Smoking signs, opened a window and lit a cigar.

Eligible for retirement in one more year, I decided to try to get back to PPD for one last operational assignment. I had spent far too long as an instructor and, like an actor too long in one role, had been typecast. Many believed that I had been away from the operational side of the house for so long that teaching was all I was capable of. Perhaps they were right, but I wanted the chance to find out.

In August 2003, I requested and was selected for reassignment back to PPD as one of two supervisors in charge of CAT. After a nine-year absence, I was returning to protection.

CHAPTER 14

Retirement and the CIA

November 2003 found me reporting back to PPD and CAT after a prolonged absence from operational life. For the past nine years, I had taught others how to protect presidents and get and stay in shape. Now I was back helping to accomplish the most important mission in the Secret Service, which, of course, is protecting the president of the United States.

On my first day back, a supervisors’ meeting was held by the SAIC of PPD. As I walked into the meeting, I was greeted by legions of old friends now in charge of the detail. In spite of having less hair on their heads and more lines on their faces, they were all in great shape. All but two or three were former CAT agents. It was, in my opinion, a Who’s Who of the best agents in protection and in the Secret Service. These were the men I had started the job with in 1983, traveled the world with, and respected greatly. Most were former CAT teammates and PPD shift mates, and I could see that the Secret Service was selecting the best people to protect the president. It was great to be back.

A few months after arriving back on PPD, however, I was presented with a major decision that would have long-range effects on both my family and me. One year earlier, in 2003, when I had reached the twenty-year mark of service, thus making me eligible for retirement, I began looking for a post–Secret Service retirement position within the federal government. Obtaining a new job within the government can be a long process, and although I was not yet ready to retire, it was time to at least begin looking.

While many retired Secret Service agents were heading over to the newly formed Transportation Security Administration (TSA) or the Treasury Department, these jobs held no interest for me. Friends had gone to these agencies and reported that the jobs presented no real challenge or interest but merely represented a paycheck and another retirement. I could not accept the idea of going to work just for the money and easy lifestyle most retirement jobs represented. Always the hopeless idealist, I was only happy if what I was doing seemed relevant to me. What now seemed relevant to me was contributing directly to the war effort.

Since 9/11 I had wanted to contribute in an active manner to the war on terror. Age was a problem, however, or so I first thought. Even though I was in good physical condition, by 2001 I was still forty-six, which is a bit long in the tooth for any meaningful fieldwork. Still with the goal in mind of somehow playing a direct part in the war, my thoughts turned to America’s main intelligence service, the Central Intelligence Agency, which from all reports was very active in this war that had been forced upon us. This is where I felt I could best serve.

While the CIA was in many respects a gigantic bureaucracy like all other government agencies, its heritage, which dates back to World War II, is quite colorful. Thankfully, some of that color can still be seen in many of its young operatives.

Prior to World War II the United States had no intelligence service per se. The FBI and the Department of State were the only entities that handled such matters as espionage and counterespionage, and then only as needed. With the onset of the war, these agencies had no presence in areas held by the Axis powers, and it was decided that America needed an agency devoted fully to the espionage business.

In order to fill this void, President Franklin Delano Roosevelt in 1942 authorized the creation of the Office of Strategic Services (OSS), the predecessor to the CIA. He appointed his old Colombia law school friend William “Wild Bill” Donovan as its director. Donovan had been a recipient of the Congressional Medal of Honor in World War I and had been a successful attorney prior to his appointment as head of OSS. In his role as director of the OSS, Donovan answered only to the president and had his full backing, which insulated the OSS from the prying eyes of J. Edgar Hoover, who had lobbied aggressively yet unsuccessfully for the FBI to be given complete autonomy over both foreign and domestic counterespionage.