The Bremer Detail Read Free Page A

relatively painless. Insurgent attacks were not yet an everyday occurrence. This would soon change.
    For the time being Americans seemed to be regarded as semiheroes for ousting Saddam, and there was general goodwill toward us. Brutus wished me good luck and gave me a list of things he thought would make my life somewhat easier. There were many things that could be purchased in Baghdad, but the main items that were always in short supply included: soap, deodorant, shoelaces, extra sunglasses, watch batteries, and Febreze. The Febreze was a key and essential part of the equipment load as the heat and all too frequent water outages could cause a man and his equipment to smell worse than the local dump. I couldn’t admit it to him because of bro-rules, but I was nervous as hell. We laughed and I told him I would see him soon. At least, I hoped I would.
    Trying out for anything has always been disconcerting to me. I knew from word of mouth that Blackwater was mainly staffed by former SEALs who had extensive special operations experience. Most had considerable time with DEVGRU (SEAL Team 6). I was a former Recon Marine, had been out for almost twenty years, and had been doing executive protection for most of that time—meaning suits and ties and flying around on private jets. No body armor, no rifles. I knew Brutus had navigated through the Blackwater on-boarding process so I felt confident that, despite the sometimes intense interservice rivalry between the Recon guys and the SEALs, the SEAL team guys would give me a fair chance. I also knew they had called me because of my previous relationship with Ambassador Bremer. Blackwater was relatively new to the executive protection game, so I had that going for me.
    Later that same afternoon I went to the gun store and bought a couple hundred rounds of ammo, then went to the range. The shooting went well, but I was fully aware of the fact that the guys who would be evaluating me were going to be shit hot shooters. I made a mental note that I would need at least a few more range sessions before I felt comfortable with my skill level. My accuracy was good, but my speed was not. Muscle memory would need to be reinvigorated. One thing to note about guys like us—former military, former cops, or as we say to each other “former action guys” (FAGs for short)—is we know and readily acknowledge where our weaknesses lie, and we actually try to get them up to par before a tryout. Yes, we work at it. Yes, we practice. Shooting is a perishable skill. If you don’t practice, you don’t shoot well. I didn’t have access to an M-4 rifle so I was going to have to fire the thing cold and hope my hand-eye coordination would translate from handguns and my muscle memory for a carbine would come back quickly.
    After addressing the weapons part of the tryout equation, I turned my attention to the run. One and a half miles in twelve minutes. Back in the day most of us could probably walk this fast, but this was not back in the day. Onslow Beach, the home of 2d Recon Battalion, was a distant memory. Even there, running had been a challenge for me. The USMC physical fitness test has a three-mile run, and to get maximum points the course had to be covered in eighteen minutes or less. My best time ever had been 19:10, and that had been at the end of Amphibious Reconnaissance School (ARS) when I was in my all-time peak condition. ARS was the school that Marines had to complete to get the military occupation specialty of 0321—Reconnaissance Man. I was lucky enough to go through the very first ARS course. It combined the most challenging physical aspects of U.S. Army Ranger School with the SEALs’ Basic Underwater Demolition School (BUDS). Even after ARS, I could not max the run.
    So I took my car out and mapped a 1.5-mile course around my neighborhood. I figured within ten days I should certainly regain some semblance of running shape. Next it was off to the running store to get a pair of shoes that