Licensed to Kill (25 page)

Shortly after we arrive, everyone gathers for an introductory briefing. I meet the other instructors—a British cop who worked undercover in Northern Ireland, a marine who survived the Beirut embassy bombing, and a gaggle of other experts with a variety of special skills from explosives to the terrorist mind-set. We meet the students—men and women who work in the rapidly growing antiterrorism business. From the round of introductions, I get the impression that most of the major players in the War on Terror have representation here, since I meet security contractors, Homeland Security, army special operations, police, marines, admitted intel folks, and a sizable contingent who don't name their employer. Some of them have come on the government's dollar, some have self-funded the experience. Since this is an advanced course, all have a background and experience related to counterterrorism, whether from behind a desk in a stateside bureaucracy or on the ground in the Middle East. Any independent security contractors accepted to this course have already gone through the low-level induction and would take Mirror Image to boost their professional skills and standing. The students are excited that there will be shooting, so the course won't be all PowerPoint hell. After a few sodas and conversation, it's off to get a good sleep before tomorrow's long day.

Other than a few quiet moments at dawn and at dusk, the sounds of weapons being fired and explosions detonated continue to harass the peace of the countryside day and night. The crickets, birds, and other noisemakers of the forest have long since fled the squealing of tires interspersed with loud BOOMS and the constant howling of high-powered sniper rounds. Summer camp for mercenaries, I joke as the muffled cacophony lulls me to sleep the first night.

The first day out is a predawn roust for the instructors. We have to get the students out of the sack and into their first exercise. The men roll out in shorts and T-shirts. Everyone is issued
kefyias,
the style of checked headscarf usually worn by Palestinians. Walter buys them in bulk from a Jewish guy in Brooklyn. Everyone gets a copy of the Koran as well. The entire class is divided up into teams of about ten each, with each one representing a different terrorist group. Because of my time spent with the rebels in Grozny, I make my team “Chechens.”

The predawn warm-up begins with an exercise where each team must silently slip each member through a section of a rope spiderweb without touching the rope or making a noise, simulating the Palestinian-style tactic of penetrating a perimeter. One man is stationed to listen for any sound. The “Chechens” take their shoes off to make less noise. The other teams don't want to get their feet wet and dirty. Bad move. They end up spending a lot more time repeating the exercise over and over again. Then, after a quick British Army–style jog, where the students have to high-step and occasionally slap their knees or feet at the appropriate time in the sing-song cadence Walter sings, we head off to morning prayers. Most students who attend the course have a limited understanding of the Islamic religion and culture, so day one starts out with a lecture on the subject and a rough show-and-tell on how to pray.

After morning prayers, the class showers and heads to breakfast. The buffet serves the basic building blocks of a generic brand Egg McMuffin—questionable and rubbery yellow disks, greasy patties, biscuits—as well as cereal, yogurt, and mini muffins. The sign says
ONLY ONE TIME THROUGH THE LINE
, though few ever have the desire or the stomach to challenge the rule.

The course is broken up into morning instruction and afternoon field exercises, so after breakfast we head over to the classrooms. The architecture of the teaching facilities looks like industrial metal meets spartan shed, and a growing neighborhood of portable outbuildings and range structures looks like it has recently expanded from the nucleus. The classroom walls are decorated with posters of guns, and a lonely lineup of naked life-sized pink rubber punching torsos stands at attention like a phantom army.

Outside, the constant din of gunfire has driven the bomb-sniffing Belgian Malinois and German shepherds of Blackwater Canine into a frenzy. We can hear the “pop ting, pop ting, pop ting” of a good shooter making hits on the white-painted steel silhouettes on the range outside the classroom, and the loud boom and crack of another range off in the distance where operators practice their .50 cal sniper skills. The metal sheds of the classrooms and target manufacturing plant add an eerie whine to the high-powered shots. Although the racket makes the students hungry to get on to the ranges and start shooting, we have to start the PowerPoints and videos. Luckily, the classroom material deals with such boring and erudite subjects as how to build a bomb. We discuss the tactics used in successful bomb attacks and the philosophy of different terrorist groups—all delivered from the terrorist's point of view. On the breaks between being cooped up in the classroom and squeezed into tiny student chairs, the students go outside and do the sniff test. They bond over cigarettes and Skoal, feeling each other out and bestowing nicknames when they decide someone is okay with them. While Mike, John, and Janet may go outside for a break, Abu Asian, Angry Dwarf, and Soccer Mom return. The group bond has begun to develop.

My classroom presentation isn't until later in the week, so I decide to wander over to check out the main Blackwater headquarters. As I push through the glass doors, the blare of a TV permanently set to Fox News greets me. The room gives me the immediate impression of a gun store or taxidermy showcase, since it houses a stuffed black bear shot on the property, a mounted deer head, a bobcat perched on the drapery rod above the curtains, and a fox positioned in an eternally unrequited scene in which his mouth has been frozen midsnap just inches from a stuffed partridge.

Most contractors cross the threshold of headquarters just to visit the gift shop, which sells an overwhelming array of bad-ass gear that can easily clean out a week's worth of a contractor's salary. In the shop, anyone can get geared up, and the well-heeled civvy can buy most of the gear needed to look like an IC. Erik has his own Blackwater clothing line modeled on what the fashionable contractor wears to work, but Royal Robbins 5.11 shirts and pants in tan are the most ubiquitous choice. The latest Su-unto “hockey puck” watch adds good accessory to the outfit. Tactical gear in a green and tan made by BlackHawk (not affiliated with Blackwater); adventure hiking shoes; web utility vests; Camelback hydration units; “go” bags; day packs; and plenty of gun gear like sights, holsters, and carrying cases can wreak havoc on credit cards. And, of course, the most important part of a contractor's outfit—the sunglasses. A single pair of Wiley X, Oakley, Maui Jim, and other top-end shades can set an operator back over three hundred dollars. However, the right sunglasses are a must-have, since contractors say you can tell exactly what an operator is about by his shades. Maui Jims are for Frogs or SEALs, old-school wraparound Oakleys for Delta, Wiley X for SF, cool-guy Oakleys for marines. Experienced contractors consider knockoffs, or even Ray-Bans, the sign of an amateur. If a visitor plunked down between $800 and $2,500 in the store, he could walk out almost looking like the real thing.

Back inside the classroom, the students are chafing at being kept inside for so long. We break for a dull cafeteria lunch, and then the afternoon exercises begin. In addition to shooting at targets, students will be shooting at each other. They will use Simunition, a plastic-tipped bullet casing with a reduced charge and filled with bright-colored gooey soap. Though nonlethal, the bullets can make painful and ugly red welts or blood blisters on close impact, so everyone puts on protective gear.

In a standard PSD training class, the students would play the role of protecting the VIP while instructors would act as the terrorists or insurgents. In this course, however, since the students are working to learn the thought process of the terrorists, the roles are reversed. The instructors will play the bodyguards, and the students, trying to subsume the motivations, goals, and tactics of a terrorist, will try to identify the weaknesses in security and mount an attack. For our first field exercise, we have to ambush a VIP scheduled to drive down an L-shaped road. We are supposed to wait until the VIP car turns the L corner and cut them off in front and box them in from behind with our pickup trucks. We have to be prepared for resistance from a driver, two security guards, and the high-value target inside. They are all to be “killed.”

I pull my students into a group huddle to discuss how the real Chechens would plan such an operation. Everyone gets jihadi nicknames, which shift around so the “spies” in our midst can never really identify us. I try to instill in them the audacious and energetic mind-set of a motivated guerrilla fighting against a large killing machine. I tell them we have to attack, attack, and attack, taking full advantage of our most powerful weapon—our complete willingness to die.

Though we have been given guidelines on where to hide and how to carry out the operation, real terrorists would never be constrained by such expectations. The most successful terrorist or insurgent attacks always achieve an element of surprise. In Iraq, the insurgents have consistently altered their tactics once it becomes clear that coalition forces have grown to expect and anticipate a certain type of strike. For example, early in the insurgency, suicide bombers would attack security convoys with a speeding approach coming up from behind. After the PSDs became more attuned to watching their rear quadrant, the cars began to slow down in front of the convoys before detonating. When the PSDs adjusted to that tactic, the bombers developed a method of darting across the median from the opposing lane of traffic. As proposed, the exercise might teach my students how to ambush a car, but it doesn't communicate any deeper lessons about terrorist thinking or tactics. So applying guerrilla thinking, I propose an unconventional plan.

One great advantage terrorists or insurgents have over conventional forces is that members of the military have had the rules of conduct and warfare drilled so deeply into their heads that it subconsciously shapes their expectations. Insurgents and terrorists will exploit that lack of imagination, often using their enemies' restricted rules of engagement or cultural presuppositions against them. This can most prominently be seen in certain terrorist or insurgent groups' lack of restraint with regard to civilian targets. Another common ploy, though less frequently cited in the media, is the insurgents' adoption of disguises to get their potential victims to let down their guard. Security contractors in Iraq have told me that many of them refuse to stop for the Iraqi police or military under any circumstances, since there have been so many incidents of insurgents using stolen uniforms or of infiltrators exploiting their official position to create the conditions for an attack. Most law-abiding Westerners have the idea that one must pull over for the police deeply ingrained in their thinking, and the insurgents have exploited this conditioned response to great effect. With this in mind, I remind one of my students, a Secret Service agent, about the undercover car with sirens and lights he had earlier mentioned he drove down from DC.

When our turn comes up, my students hide themselves on either side of the road, ready to shoot in case any of our victims tries to escape. I strip off all my protective gear so I don't look so conspicuous, and keep the undercover car idling as I sit in wait for the SUV with the VIP in it. When they pass me, heading to the ambush spot, I pull out from behind and begin following. Just before they enter the kill zone, I flip on the siren and flashing lights. Even though the driver knows he is in the middle of a scenario, he dutifully pulls over and stops. When I walk up to the car and motion for them to roll down their windows, they obediently comply. Then pulling out my gun, I “shoot” each occupant at point-blank range. I jump back in the car and speed away as the security guards stumble out and start firing back at me. When the “dead” guards both pause to simultaneously reload, I reverse back at high speed and shoot everyone dead again. Though we may not have done it in the conventional way, we achieve the objective of killing everyone. My Chechens understand the point of the lesson I was trying to teach them, but are still pissed that they didn't even get to fire a shot.

For the next few days, we settle into a routine. When I wake up in the morning, the former British cop is usually doing one-handed push-ups in the dark. After the students roll out of bed, they do the rope spiderweb test, jog, have morning prayers, and then after breakfast head to the classroom for instruction. One day we watch a film about suicide bomb victims that illustrates the brutal realities of dealing with people who operate outside the laws of war. The students learn how to pick locks and about the explosive mechanisms of cell-phone-detonated bombs and other varieties of IEDs. The instructors with firsthand experience lecture on how the IRA blew up buildings, and how Hezbollah blew up the marine barracks in Lebanon. I lecture on how the motivation and mind-set of different terrorist factions influence their tactics. Field exercises simulating different scenarios of attack consume every afternoon, and as the week progresses, I can see the students adjusting their thinking to adopt a more unconventional approach to the operations.

The last day of the course involves an assault on the “village,” an attempt to kill a VIP, and a truck bomb to blow up the building he is in. My students have learned by now that thinking outside the box and using the enemies' own cultural rules and assumptions against them achieves the most dramatic success, so I tell them I will keep out of it and let them prepare and execute the entire operation. They impress me with a plan that involves multiple assaults, including giving a gun to a visiting news crew to shoot the VIP.

The targets will be expecting the attackers to approach via one of the roads that leads into the village, so the Chechens sneak in from behind the berm of a live firing range and attack from behind, something that freaks out the lead instructor, but gives my team's attack the perfect element of surprise. When the VIP's bodyguards try to hustle him into the SUV for escape, the news crew's cameraman pulls out the gun we smuggled to him and shoots the principal dead. While everyone is distracted by the unconventional methods and chaotic results my Chechens have unleashed, one of them drives straight into the village on the main road and “detonates” his car bomb next to the target building, “killing” himself and everyone nearby. My team has learned their lesson well. Hopefully, they'll now be able to think like terrorists so they won't be killed by one.