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Within Arm's Length: A Secret Service Agent's Definitive Inside Account of Protecting the President Read online




  The author and publisher have provided this e-book to you for your personal use only. You may not make this e-book publicly available in any way. Copyright infringement is against the law. If you believe the copy of this e-book you are reading infringes on the author's copyright, please notify the publisher at: us.macmillanusa.com/piracy.

  All statements of fact, opinion, or analysis expressed are those of the author. They do not reflect the official positions or views of the CIA, or any other US government agency. Nothing in the contents should be construed as asserting or implying US government authentication of information or agency endorsement of the author’s views. This material has been reviewed by the CIA to prevent the disclosure of classified information.

  This book is dedicated to the 29 men and women of the United States Secret Service killed in the line of duty, and to the men and women of the Central Intelligence Agency killed in action, represented by 107 stars on the wall at Langley.

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Notice

  Dedication

  Epigraph

  Preface

  Prologue

  CHAPTER 1: The Death of a President and the Birth of a Career

  CHAPTER 2: College, the Marine Corps, and Ronald Reagan

  CHAPTER 3: Never Give Up Unless You Are Dead

  CHAPTER 4: The Charlotte Field Office

  CHAPTER 5: Special Agent Training

  CHAPTER 6: Back to Charlotte

  CHAPTER 7: The New York Field Office

  CHAPTER 8: The Counter Assault Team

  CHAPTER 9: The Agent Who Loved Me … Eventually

  CHAPTER 10: Human Shields and Operant Conditioning

  CHAPTER 11: The Boldness of the Presidency

  CHAPTER 12: Presidential Protective Division

  CHAPTER 13: Shaping the Next Generation

  CHAPTER 14: Retirement and the CIA

  Epilogue

  APPENDIX 1: A Brief History of the Secret Service

  APPENDIX 2: Glossary of Terms and Acronyms

  About the Author

  Index

  Copyright

  The Man in the Arena

  It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.

  —President Theodore Roosevelt

  Preface

  When the staff of St. Martin’s Press offered me the opportunity to write a revised edition of Within Arm’s Length, I was thrilled. Not only would I have the opportunity to write for a prestigious publishing house, but I would also have the chance to take the many comments from readers about my first book and incorporate them into a more detailed, expansive work about my life and career in the Secret Service and the Central Intelligence Agency (CIA).

  One constant question from readers has been: What does the title of the book actually mean? The answer is simple. “Within arm’s length” is the Secret Servcie doctrine that proclaims that, for an agent to properly protect the president, he must be literally within arm’s length of that president. Any greater distance between president and agent will render the agent incapable of effectively responding to an attack. During my career, I had the honor of being within arm’s length of three sitting presidents. I felt this title to be the most appropriate of all those considered.

  Those who read the first edition of Within Arm’s Length will find that the stories within have been greatly expanded here, with much new material included. I believe that those interested in the Secret Service and the CIA and in what life is like inside these agencies will find that this edition is in essence a new book, not merely a rehash of an earlier work.

  I ended the previous version with my retirement from the Secret Service and my entry into the CIA. In the last chapter, I wrote that my CIA experience would be a story for another time. That time is now.

  In these pages I have included much information about my entry into the CIA subsequent to my Secret Service retirement and how that experience came to pass. Unfortunately, due to the nature and details of my work at the CIA, not as much can be written as I would like—but that is the intelligence business. For the majority of my time at the CIA, I was a member of the National Clandestine Service, formerly the Directorate of Operations. As such, the most interesting details of my work there remain classified.

  Still, I have included stories from my six years with the CIA that will perhaps provide the reader with a snapshot into a world where relatively few have been. Given these limitations, this book is primarily about the life of a Secret Service agent and the events that led to my being selected as a member of America’s most elite law enforcement agency.

  Due to the complexities of both the culture and the mission of the Secret Service, presenting an account of a Secret Service agent’s life and career is a daunting task. In these pages you will share in the long and frustrating process of applying to be an agent; the excitement of executing search and arrest warrants in the worst sections of New York City; the feeling of apprehension I experienced while running alongside the president of the United States through downtown Washington, DC, during morning rush hour, when an assassination would have been quite easy. I will take you to some of the most dangerous places in the world, such as the demilitarized zone between North and South Korea, as the president stands on a bridge separating the two countries, in plain view of unpredictable, heavily armed North Korean soldiers. You will share in the unique experience of flying aboard Air Force One and feel the awesome responsibility of driving the president of the United States in an armored limousine. There are also some humorous moments, as being a Secret Service agent is far from all work and no play.

  No former agent has ever written about most of these topics in any detail, although non-agents have published things that perhaps should not have been made public. Few of these books include any new material regarding what it really means to be a Secret Service agent; none captures the unique culture of the organization.

  Some recent books about the Secret Service are so-called tell-all works that do nothing more than rehash boring old stories about the people protected by the Secret Service. Others potentially place a strain on the trust that is essential between agent and president. Any president of the United States should feel confident that private matters will be kept in confidence forever, even after the president’s death. Betrayal of this confidence can turn to danger if the president feels he cannot trust the Secret Service to be discreet. A president then begins to create too large a buffer between himself and the Service, thus making himself more difficult to protect.

  The first word in “Secret Service” is, of course, “Secret.” What you will not read about in this book are the detailed methods and tactics utilized by the Secret Service to protect the president. There is no classified or “for official use only” (FOUO) information regarding the White House security procedures or weapons and training such as has bee
n broadcast in television specials over the years. While some individuals I protected during my career will be mentioned in the context of general anecdotes, I have told no out-of-school stories. This book is about the Secret Service as my colleagues and I viewed it from the trenches and about some of the experiences of a working-level Secret Service agent who held several positions in the organization.

  I have not attempted to portray the Service or its agents larger or brighter than they actually are; nor have I attempted to vilify the Service or anyone in it. The picture presented here is authentic and accurate. Regardless of what literary critics may say, I believe my writing will be judged as factual and fair by the ultimate critics: those who served with me and knew the Service as I did during the period from 1983 through the George W. Bush presidency.

  Prologue

  All Secret Service agents, and especially those assigned to the Presidential Protective Division, constantly live with the reality that their lives can be exchanged at any time for that of the president. That reality permanently resides in the back of an agent’s mind, where it is not dwelled upon, yet is always present. In every Secret Service agent’s career, however, there are incidents that bring this reality home. These incidents remind agents that their lives are never truly their own but belongs to the United States and the office of the presidency. In short, Secret Service agents are expendable in all matters related to protecting the president.

  During one such incident, as with many others during my twenty-one-year career, I was reminded of this reality. My assignment was to prepost in a room with President Bill Clinton, where he was to meet with Syrian dictator Hafez al-Assad. My express purpose for being in the room was not to cover and evacuate the president in the event of an attack but rather to neutralize any threat to POTUS (the president of the United States) regardless of who posed the threat. Literally translated, that meant kill the Syrian bodyguards if they drew their weapons for any reason. I suppose I should have been flattered to be chosen for such an assignment, but I realized that if I did have to shoot the Syrians, like them, I would in all liklihood be experiencing the last day of my life.

  Prior to entering the room with President Clinton and Assad, I took a few seconds to think of my wife and family. I said a quick prayer to the effect that, if called upon to kill the Syrians, I would do it with maximum efficiency and President Clinton would survive even if I did not. As my prayer ended, I was filled with a single-minded resolve bordering on calm rage. No matter what, I would carry out my assignment to the utmost of my abilities, and, true to my former training as a marine, I would accomplish the mission at all cost. Then it was game time.

  As directed, I preposted in the conference room, and as President Clinton and Assad entered, so did their security details. I made eye contact with the Secret Service shift leader and we exchanged looks of understanding that the situation was one that was being controlled by the Secret Service, not the Syrians.

  As I slowly moved behind Assad’s men to gain the best possible firing position, I noticed from the imprint of their tight-fitting suit coats that these men were carrying Skorpion machine pistols. I knew the Skorpion well and had fired it during terrorist weapons familiarization training. As a result of this excellent training, I not only knew what type of weapon the Syrians were carrying but what it was capable of. In a bind, I could also use one to good effect. The Skorpion was a .32-caliber weapon with a ten- or twenty-round curved magazine that fired fully automatically, giving it little accuracy in any situation, especially in a packed room. If fired in such a venue many would be shot, including, perhaps, the president of the United States. That, of course, could not be permitted.

  As I stood behind my potential targets, I began running scenarios through my head, playing the “what if” game. There really was only one “what if” in this case. If the Syrians drew their Skorpions, I would per my training shoot each of them twice with my Sig Sauer pistol until the threat was neutralized, I had expended all ammunition, or I was out of the game.

  I repositioned myself a bit in order to ensure that President Clinton and Assad would not be in my line of fire in the event I was forced to shoot and actually missed at such close range. As bad as a shootout in this small room would be, it would be catastrophic beyond imagination if a Secret Service bullet from my pistol struck either POTUS or Assad.

  Obviously and thankfully the Syrians did not draw their Skorpions and I was not forced to kill them, nor they me. It could have easily happened, however, and the incident was a cold reminder of what is expected of Secret Service agents throughout their careers.

  Who are these men and women that protect the president of the United States, and where does America find such people willing to not merely face danger but to sacrifice themselves if necessary for the office of the presidency? The answer begins with the search for men and women who are worthy of trust and confidence.

  WORTHY OF TRUST AND CONFIDENCE

  Almost every organization has a motto. The motto of the Marine Corps is “Semper Fidelis,” or “Always Faithful”; the FBI motto is “Bravery, Fidelity, and Integrity.” For the United States Secret Service, the motto is “Worthy of Trust and Confidence.”

  All Secret Service agents carry with them a walletlike object known as a commission book; when opened, it reveals a badge and a photo ID and contains an inscription proclaiming agents’ authority under federal law to carry firearms, make arrest for offenses against the United States, and provide protection to the president of the United States. It also states that the bearer is “Worthy of Trust and Confidence.” The United States of America can trust the bearer of the commission book in all matters of national security.

  These Secret Service agents deemed worthy of trust and confidence are frequently depicted as menacing, large-biceped bodyguards with no sense of humor hiding steely eyes behind dark glasses. This image is not reality but only urban legend.

  On the surface, to the casual observer, Secret Service agents are in many respects like anyone else. They are fathers, mothers, sons, and daughters. They are your neighbors, friends, relatives, coaches, PTA members, and fellow citizens. Under the surface, however, they are quite different from the average citizen. The difference lies in their unique profession and in what each is prepared to do in order to preserve our form of government and way of life. The men and women who carry the commission book proclaiming them to be worthy of trust and confidence are willing and have been trained to forfeit their lives without hesitation for the office of the presidency. Their willingness to do this is without question, their outstanding and continuous training assures it. This primary mission of keeping the president alive at any cost distinguishes both the Secret Service agent and the Secret Service itself from all other government agents and agencies.

  My career was not unique. By substituting others’ names for mine, this book could be about any one of several hundred, if not several thousands, of agents who since 1902 have been found worthy of trust and confidence and afforded the honor of protecting the president of the United States with their own lives. This book, then, is a typical agent’s story, but it is one that has seldom, if ever, been told in such detail.

  CHAPTER 1

  The Death of a President and the Birth of a Career

  From May 16, 1983, until May 16, 2004, I served as a special agent in the United States Secret Service. There I was afforded both the honor and the tremendous responsibility of protecting three sitting presidents.

  In the span of that career, I learned above all else that there is no such thing as a routine day in the Secret Service. Anything was possible, from the boredom of answering telephones in the office to flying on board Air Force One or perhaps going for a morning run with the president of the United States. On some days I was afforded the chance to do all of these things.

  Through the years, many people have asked how and why I chose the Secret Service as a career. The answer is complex but lies in the inescapable fact that children are highly impres
sionable creatures. When I was only eight years old, the murder of President John F. Kennedy and the global changes it brought about created impressions that would transform my life forever.

  Over the course of that fateful weekend in November 1963, an idealistic third grader named Dan Emmett made the decision that one of his career goals was to become a Secret Service agent, one of the men who protected the president of the United States. Two decades later that was precisely what I did. This is the story of that career, first imagined as a child. Through a great deal of hard work and a bit of good fortune, my dream flourished into reality.

  BEGINNINGS

  Secret Service agents, like most men and women in armed law enforcement, tend to come from the middle class and upper middle class. My upbringing was very similar to that of thousands of others who chose the same career path I did, with the only differences being specific dates and the names of towns and relatives. If you wish to truly understand the mind-set of people in this profession and why they chose their respective career paths, you need to examine their formative years.

  The third of three sons, I was born in 1955 at the end of the baby boom in the small town of Gainesville, Georgia, located about fifty miles northeast of Atlanta. My brothers and I were each born six years apart; no two of us were in college at the same time. That is how carefully my parents planned things. In their lives nothing happened by chance, and this is one of the most important lessons I learned from them. Always plan ahead and have both a backup plan and a backup to the backup. From the time I could understand language, I often heard Dad remind my brothers and me, “Prior planning prevents piss-poor performance.” As with most things he said during the forty-four years I was privileged to be around him, I have found this to be sound advice.

  While neither of my parents progressed in formal education beyond the high school level, both were determined that my two brothers and I would all graduate from college. They made sacrifices characteristic of their generation, and we all did.