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10 pages, Audio CD
First published June 28, 2016



I got stuck with a new partner. She was obviously hired to fill a quota. That wasn't speculation; I was told so point blank. Political meddling had struck again and was going to get someone killed. I just hoped it wasn't me. [...] My new female partner and I, as part of Elite Gate Section, were watching over a hangar. We got the call, the one we trained for but never wanted to get. The runways had to be cleared and cordoned off. No one except necessary personnel was to go in or out. A 707 Boeing EC-135, a very large jet engine cargo plane, started blow-starting [...] to get the hell out of the way of the chief of staff’s incoming aircraft. My clueless partner sprinted past me to avoid the 707 but forgot her NBCR (Nuclear, Biological, Chemical, and Radiological) gear bag. I turned. It lay on the runway in the way of the aircraft. I couldn't yell over the engines but if that small bag was sucked up into the 707 engine it would trigger a complete engine failure and a fire and a giant hazard. It would endanger the chief of staff's incoming aircraft and a missile launch. I ran back, threw my bag down next to hers, and flung my body atop both bags. [...] Her tool bag (different from the NBCR bag that I smothered), which she also forgot, had blown into the plane’s blast deflector, sending debris everywhere - and inflicting me with a concussion.
-pg 14

Also on duty was a UD officer whom I'll call Yolanda. We had incredibly different backgrounds. I grew up in Pennsylvania and Virginia. She was from the “real” DC, the ghetto, as she said. She was very crass and, like me, never had an advanced education. I wasn't sure what to make of her. Anyway, back to that guy at the metal detector. [...] Yolanda was great, a top draft pick for any partner. She read people like a human polygraph machine and wouldn't freeze up in the clutch.
- pg 43

[On his college roommate, when Byrne ran into him at a “dive bar far off base”] The Joint had a motorcycle thing but in a Village People sort of way. A gay bar! My roommate! I waved goodbye and speechlessly peeled out of there. This was before "don't ask, don't tell"; the act of homosexuality could result in a dishonorable discharge. Even the suspicion of homosexuality could destroy your career. Suddenly his awkwardness in the showers, why he never chased women, joked about porn, or made crude military talk made sense. He must have chewed his fingernails worrying whether I would spread the word for inform a superior. Gut-wrenching fear must have weighed on him from the start.
- pg 47

Diversity initiatives drew mixed feelings within the UD. This affected me personally when I was told that a job for which I qualified had to go to a woman because of her gender. Under this administration the Diversity Club was created. The hypocrisy of the weekly meetings was that they were limited to nonwhite males. I informed my superiors that I was a minority and wanted in.
“Gary, c’mon,” he said flatly.
I asked him to find me another Irish Lebanese person of Arabic descent in the White House - just one. Just before I put my signature to an official grievance they allowed me to attend diversity club meetings.
When I walked in the door I felt the stares - no surprise there. Most of that meeting was ridiculous. One guy wanted to speak Spanish over the secure radio and thought it was discriminatory that he couldn't. Management squashed that one. Two black officers explained that someone had changed their work evaluation scores to obstruct their anticipated promotions and pay increases. They lacked proof. The Diversity Club leaders, the deputy chief of the White House and inspector, quashed that one too.
“Anything else? Anyone have anything else they want to bring up?” they said, trying to end the meeting.
I raised my hand.
“Yes, Gary. What can we do for you?” they asked dismissively, still bent on leaving.
I took a deep breath but didn't miss a beat. “I would just like to add that I believe these two officers are telling the truth - I saw a lieutenant change their scores.”
You could hear a pin drop.
- pg 118
NAACP gaffe (get quote) - pg 124
[On being allowed to take an exam orally due to dyslexia] You know, that’s what real diversity is: a diversity of the mind, which is absolutely apolitical as opposed to the politically correct version of diversity.
- pg 192
[On passing the exam] I wanted to dance in the street or fire automatic weapons into the air - but I settled for a firm handshake.
- pg 192
[On the Oklahoma City bombing] Maybe I shouldn't say it, but the ugly bitter truth is that whenever a tragic horrific event happens, I feel vindicated.
- pg 91
“They f---ed us, Bill!” Hillary screamed.
I stifled a laugh.
- pg 60
[On Black Hawk Down] They ignored the Rwandan genocide and let the situation in Bosnia-Herzegovina escalate. I guess Somalia seemed more marketable than the others - better for the Clinton brand.
- pg 51
My life was firearms, and what better way to fulfill my dream than by passing on my passion to others? Firearms clicked with who I was.
- pg 131
[On being deposed] My plastic water bottle was my crinkly comfort blanket. I really wanted to feel the reassurance of my firearm against my hip, but that was not to be. They made me hand over my gun before my questioning commenced.
- pg 158
I thought the incident highlighted many of the little awkward moments instructors have to worry about when teaching students of the opposite gender. We must ask ourselves five times a day: Am I about to be hit with a sexual harassment suit?
- pg 196
And had I just jeopardized my entire career, my pension, my future, or even my kid’s future? Our first child was on the way!
- pg 116
And by the way, with a Byrne baby in the works, the incredible amount of overtime that came with the holidays was very welcome.
- pg 123
What about Genny and my unborn child?
- pg 133
...my entire career, my income for my family and our unborn child, were in jeopardy.
- pg 134
I spoke often with Genny. [...] She stuck with me. She was carrying our first child.
- pg 138
I just never wanted to disappoint her - or our expected baby.
- pg 138
Each morning I drove from the “shit-box,” what we affectionately called our rental home while our new home was being built for our growing family [...]
- pg 138
My unborn child was on the way and I needed to support that child, but I needed to be able one day to look my child in the eye and not only teach, but demonstrate real tough-in-the-clutch honesty.
- pg 140
Days later the bastards did it again. The same agent yelled in my face, “I will come to your house and arrest you in front of your pregnant wife!”
- pg 152
”Just go and don’t stop for anything if I tell you to go there,” I told her - something no LEO should have to tell their spouse, particularly a pregnant one.
- pg 155

