Inside Delta Force by Eric L. Haney

Author:Eric L. Haney
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub, azw3
Tags: Adventure & Adventurers, Juvenile Nonfiction, Terrorism - Prevention, Eric L, Haney, General, United States, United States - Commando Troops, Political Science, United States - History, Security (National & International), Military, Terrorism, Military & Wars, Juvenile Literature, Special Forces, Prevention, History
ISBN: 9780385732512
Publisher: Random House Digital, Inc.
Published: 2002-01-02T00:00:00+00:00

The instructions I found in the magazine directed me to conduct a vehicular pickup of a subject at the Washington mansion at Mount Vernon. I would find him in the visitors’ parking lot just as the facility closed for the day. The contact would be someone I knew.

I cruised through the lot just as a stream of cars and buses was pulling out. I didn’t see anyone familiar. But just as I had almost completed a circuit of the parking area, I saw a tall figure with a shock of long red hair dart from behind a small outbuilding into an edge of the parking lot where he was screened by a hedge of boxwoods.

It was John Yancy, and his timing was perfect. His path intercepted the edge of the pavement just as I rolled up. I stopped the van for a split second while John jumped in, and then we were on the move and headed for the exit. It was a smooth and natural-looking pickup that would have been difficult to observe.

I had felt neither interest in our passage nor a tail, either going in or coming out, but that meant little. So on the way back to town we made a few “shakes and scratches” just to see if any fleas fell off.

One of the best ways to do that is to cruise into a cul-de-sac in a residential neighborhood and see who follows you in. If it’s a tail, they’re “burned.” This means that you know what they look like—along with the car they’re using—so they have to be pulled from the surveillance team, all of which makes life just a little more difficult for the “trackers” and may cause them to make other mistakes. But we were clean.

John and I had first met during Selection and hit it off. He was a tall, muscular Texan with a long, loping stride, a narrow, foxlike face, and a sly sense of humor masking granite toughness. He had been a renowned recon man with Special Forces in Vietnam, and was considered one of the best men to be beside during a fight. He was absolutely unflappable no matter how bad things got.

He came to Selection from the Special Forces battalion in Panama but had badly twisted an ankle during the Eighteen Miler at the start of Selection and had to drop out of the course. Rather than go back to Panama, he stayed at Aberdeen Camp while his ankle healed and attended the Selection course that started as mine was finishing. The ankle continued to be a problem for him throughout Selection, and he told me the best thing about the Forty Miler was that when his legs finally went numb on him, he couldn’t feel the pain of that ankle.

John was another of our comrades who would leave us too early. He was shot and killed just a few years later, only two weeks before he was to leave the unit for a “safer” assignment.

We compared notes as we rode along.

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