Special Access
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Five days later, the president announced he would personally thank the Navy SEAL team who killed Osama bin Laden when they reached the United States. For the next four days, the politician and his fire team of media lapdogs ran around the country, basking in the afterglow of the heroics of the men who did the work. Each audience received more details of the mission from the president, as well as DEVGRU’s internal workings. The media interviewed and profiled SEALs past and present.
Immediately after returning from Afghanistan and meeting the president, the commander of DEVGRU called the SOCOM commander and complained bitterly that the president’s comments and unauthorized portrayals of DEVGRU by the White House press corps brought significant, unwanted limelight on the operation and the men of SEAL Team Six and their families.
The JSOC and SOCOM commanders were both livid, and the politically correct message to SECDEF and the Joint Chiefs was that “Navy SEALs are grateful for the nation’s show of support but are growing angry with the continued focus on their operations, tactics, and tools, claiming it could jeopardize future raids and their safety.”
SECDEF issued a press release without clearing it with the White House, which said, in essence, “Shut up, Mr. President.” It appeared that the White House heard the message.
Perhaps it was coincidence that the day after POTUS was briefed they knew where Osama bin Laden was located, and the intelligence community and DOD were told “continue to develop your intelligence,” the SECDEF ordered the SOCOM commander to draft plans for a search-and-destroy raid. He also announced his retirement would be soon. He had it with that worm.
Then a SEAL was found dead.
CHAPTER TEN
0700 May 10, 2011
The Denver Post Denver, Colorado
Pablo Reyes, a 22-year retired US Navy Commander and a former Navy SEAL, was found dead at his home in Denver, CO. The Denver Police Department believe Mr. Reyes, a physical fitness instructor at the Johnson & Wales University, was the victim of a random shooting. The case is under investigation.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
1400 May 14, 2011
Arlington National Cemetery Arlington, Virginia
Thirty-six SEALs in dress blues marched in a column of twos behind the horse-drawn carriage transporting one of their own, Commander Pablo Reyes, to his final resting place. Another one-hundred friends and mourners from across SOCOM and the Navy quietly gathered around the burial site awaiting the hearse and escorts to arrive.
SEAL pallbearers marched into position, as the hearse arrived. They gently lifted the wooden casket from the carriage and lowered it to the telpher crane deck. The Commander Chaplain delivered the rites. A bugler played Taps. A bagpiper played Amazing Grace, as every SEAL approached the casket in single file.
In a movement reminiscent of a football being spiked to the ground, each SEAL stuck a gold SEAL trident onto the casket, saluted, and moved on.
Soon, 66 of the US Navy’s most famous warfare specialty pins adorned the casket lid. SEALs past and present, merged into a single line and assembled at the top of the hill for a few words together.
The crowd mostly dispersed when Captain William McGee, US Navy (Retired) and still an imposing figure in a black suit, turned to Commander Frank Ford and said, “Disco, we have to stop meeting like this.”
“Aye, aye, Sir. Hey, I guess I’ll see you this fall at the war college—if you’re still there.”
“I’ll be there. Call me when you get in.”
“Wilco. I’m heading to Memphis for a promotion board. You take care, Bullfrog.” The men shook hands as they departed.
“You, too, Disco.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
0600 May 17, 2011
The Commercial Appeal Memphis, Tennessee
Commander Frank Ford, Executive Officer of SEAL Team 2, was found dead along a stretch of road at the Naval Support Activity in Millington, TN. Millington PD reported that the case was under investigation and was ruled suspicious.
Commander Ford was a precision parachute jumper and an avid sharpshooter. With a striking ability to control his emotions in the most-dangerous situations, he was known for leading men with calm resolve and confidence. Over a 25-year career, Ford rose to become a Commander in the Navy, leading SEALs and joint and combined units that helped capture key Taliban and al-Qaeda leaders. Mr. Ford’s remains are scheduled to be returned to his home of record, Beaufort, South Carolina, arriving Monday evening at the Savannah International Airport. A Mass will be offered at 9:30 AM Thursday at Our Lady of the Sacred Heart Catholic Church. Funeral arrangements are being handled by the Helton-Hilburn Funeral Home. In addition to his mother and father, he is survived by two brothers, Robby and Richard.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
2100 May 22, 2011
The Virginia Pilot Norfolk, Virginia
David “Mako” Petersen, of Virginia Beach, died on Saturday, May 21, 2011 at the Norfolk County Health Care Center. David was born on August 11, 1956 to the late Raymond and Mary Petersen in Orange, CA. He married Anita Zingaro in September, 1999 in Bay St. Louis, MS. David was a world-class swimmer when he joined the US Navy. He and his wife lived most of their lives in Virginia Beach. David was a proud Naval Officer, spending over 30 years in the service of his country. He was preceded in death by his wife, Anita, and son, James. A memorial Mass will be held at a later date at Sacred Heart Catholic Church in Honolulu, HI. Interment will be in the National Memorial Cemetery of the Pacific.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
2100 May 28, 2011
The Washington Post, Washington, DC
Stephen “Speedy” McCreedy, a longtime Boy Scout leader and US Navy officer, died Friday, May 25, at the Bethesda National Naval Medical Center. Commander McCreedy was a decorated US Navy veteran whose combat experience reads like a list of the biggest battles to have taken place in the Afghanistan and Iraqi Theater of Operations. Arrangements pending.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
2100 June 7, 2011
Green Parrot Bar Key West, Florida
Todd Walters, The Key West Citizen reporter, approached the Key West PD detective. “We’ll report tomorrow that Commander Donald Jorgenson, USN, was found dead in the parking lot of the Green Parrot Bar in Key West, Florida. No further details are known, and the KWPD is investigating.”
“That’ll work, Todd. Thanks. Call me in the afternoon to see if I have any news.” The thin, balding reporter, dressed in jeans and a flowery green Tommy Bahama shirt, ambled away from the crime scene to file his report or find another place to get a beer.
Unaccustomed to murder and mayhem in the tourist town, the Key West Police Department quickly notified the NAS Key West duty officer that one of their officers had been shot and killed, and the body was en route to the morgue. Senior Petty Officer Mario “Curious” Curiel, SEAL Team Four, called the DEVGRU duty officer to report that his commander had been killed. The team had been partying in their favorite Key West bar, and, when the commander hadn’t returned from the parking lot, true to his call sign, Curious went to investigate and ensure the gentle giant of a commanding officer wasn't being harassed by punks in the parking lot, like the previous evening. Curiel stumbled around outside for a minute before dropping to his knees to scan the underside of the vehicles. He quickly saw someone on the ground.
He ran around the truck to find Jorgenson, face up, parallel between two trucks, not breathing. Curiel first thought some SOB ambushed Jorgie and shot him at point-blank range. He immediately assumed a defensive-aggressive posture and flattened to the ground, scanning the underside of every vehicle while placing his fingers on Jorgenson’s neck in the hope of finding a pulse.
When he was assured he wasn't in danger from armed hippies, he turned the commander over. The sight crushed Curiel, and he sank down on his butt. As he assimilated the information that his commander and friend were dead with an exit wound the size of a grapefruit, he paused to reflect. Having thirty-four sniper kills to his credit, Curiel recognized the trademark
destruction of a long-range, soft-nosed, hollow-point rifle bullet. Trying to make sense of it, he slowly concluded that Jorgenson was taken out by a sniper who might still be targeting the area.
His senses were immediately heightened, and he took another peek at the underside of the vehicles when he saw an odd piece of paper rocking in the breeze under the other truck’s front axle. He grabbed an edge and brought it closer. An inner voice warned him to move, so he crawled low as fast as he could, scattering gravel with every step and keeping as close to the other vehicles as possible.
With the entrance in sight, he paused, scanned the area, pushed off, and sprinted through the doorway. Running to the barkeep, he said, “Dial 911 and get an ambulance and the cops here. Someone’s been killed in the parking lot.”
When Curiel flew into the room and shouted at the pretty bartender, Petty Officer Russell Johnson watched, knew they needed quiet, and unplugged the jukebox. The SEALs stood when Curiel rushed toward them.
While Curiel scrolled through numbers on his cell phone to call the DEVGRU duty officer, he said, “Jorgie was taken out by a terminator round. He’s down in the parking lot. I found this. Don’t anyone touch it.”
The DEVGRU duty officer was shocked by Curious’ call and directed the TEAM to return to base as soon as possible.
*
Lieutenant Jim Bourne, call sign “Still,” turned to the duty chief and took a deep breath. “Commander Jorgenson is down in Key West.”
“How?”
Still recovering from the shock of Jorgenson’s demise, Bourne ignored the question and said softly, “That makes four SEALs from Little Creek who’ve been shot in the last two or three weeks. That can’t be a coincidence.”
Reaching for a black binder, he flipped it open to a list of personnel recall numbers. He started at the top with Captain J. O. Biggers.
A young woman answered and shouted, “Dad! Phone.” A few seconds later, a voice said, “Captain Biggers.”
“Sir, Lieutenant Bourne, Command Duty Officer.”
"What can I do for you Still?”
“Sir, I just got word Commander Jorgenson was killed in Key West. Chief Curiel said it looked like a sniper took him out. I told him to have the team return to base.”
“I’ll be there in five minutes. Out.”
Captain Biggers rushed through the door in four minutes and barked, “SITREP!”
The Command Duty Officer followed him into his office. Biggers inserted his crypto card into the STE and turned to Lieutenant Bourne.
“Sir, no new info. Team Four is still being questioned by the locals at the Green Parrot. SOCOM has not been notified. I’ve drafted a FLASH message for your release. Sir, I think that makes four SEALs KIA’d in the last two weeks—three active duty and one retired in Colorado.”
“No shit, Sherlock,” Buggers mumbled. “That’ll be all, Still. Thanks. Pull the door behind you.”
The information panel on the STE indicated it was ready. Biggers pushed the #1 button to speed dial the SOCOM commander’s private line.
After three rings, Admiral Don Shaw answered. “Secure, Sir?” Biggers asked.
Shaw waited for the STE card to work through all the cryptological algorithms in two seconds, hearing the tone in the headset change to signify the call was secure. “Good morning, Juice. To what do I owe this pleasure?”
“Sir, Team Four Commander Jorgenson was killed in Key West at 2205, reportedly by a sniper. Key West PD and NAS Key West PMO are on the scene.”
“Shit.” The admiral inhaled sharply. “That’s four in what, three weeks?”
“Yes, Sir. There’s more. The chief who found Jorgie also found a piece of paper near the body. I’m told it was a message cobbled together from scraps of newspaper. The message read, Kill the one who ordered the hit on Osama bin Laden and I’ll stop killing SEALs.”
The admiral stepped to his desk, lowered his head, and closed his eyes. “Say again?”
Biggers repeated the message.
“Shit. That’s all we need now. Where’s the message?”
“Our boys still have it. One of our petty officers has it and thought it shouldn’t be further contaminated. I think we have to turn it over to the FBI and let them work it.”
“Agreed. Do you have a FLASH drafted?”
“Yes, Sir. I didn’t think it was prudent to mention the message at this juncture.”
“Agreed. OK, Juice, release the FLASH. Tell your guy to hold onto that message, and I’ll contact the FBI. They’ll get hold of him. We need to brief all SEALs that someone’s on a SEAL hunt and to take precautions. Everyone needs to remain on base to the greatest extent possible. You know the drill.”
“Aye, aye, Sir. Wilco.”
“Juice, we thought something like this would happen after Osama bin Laden was killed, but I didn’t think it would be quite like this. Talk to you tomorrow.”
“Yes, Sir. Juice, out.”
Admiral Shaw, SOCOM commander, received the call from Captain Biggers and repeated the process with the vice chairman of the Joint Chiefs, Marine General John “Horse” Wright. Wright briefed the Chairman, who contacted the FBI director, who contacted the Attorney General, who mentioned it at the morning National Security Council meeting.
Sitting around the table chatting were the DCI; the Secretaries of Defense, State, and Homeland Security; the National Security Advisor; the Attorney General; and Secret Service Director Marty O’Sullivan.
Before the president and vice president arrived, O’Sullivan raised one eyebrow and asked the Attorney General, “Did you say, ‘Kill the one who ordered the hit on Osama bin Laden, and I’ll stop killing SEALs?’”
The others stopped talking and looked at the former Navy SEAL and fifteen-year Secret Service veteran, and newly installed Secret Service Director.
The AG spoke quietly, briefing the others about the four SEAL team commanders who’d been killed and added, “The FBI is investigating.” It was “obviously the work of a rightwing extremist.” The Secretary of Homeland Security tightened her jaw and ground her teeth. Her temples bulged, while she nodded in assent. O’Sullivan asked to meet with the Chairman, the Secretary of Defense, and the director of the CIA after the meeting. The AG asked to be included.
The President and Vice President entered the room. O’Sullivan nodded and left, as he wasn’t a member of the council.
The president and vice president weren’t briefed. No one at the White House or in the Situation Room had any doubt who “the one” was mentioned in the killer’s note. The political right ridiculed the left and the president for being so arrogant when, during the Democratic convention, he galvanized the screaming crowd by saying, “We’re the ones we’ve been waiting for.” That sent 60,000 supporters in the football stadium into a frenzy.
The two-way implicit threat on the president was clear. When the Attorney General was notified, the FBI dispatched agents in Florida, Colorado, Virginia, and Tennessee to investigate the four SEALs’ deaths. Agents began searching airline, train, and credit card records for anyone who’d been at all four locations.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
1400 June 8, 2011
Secret Service Duty Office, White House Washington, DC
The Secret Service Director closed his office door. “I’m taking this one seriously. From what I’ve heard so far, I think we have a major problem.”
The Chairman of the Joint Chiefs, the Secretary of Defense, the Director of Central Intelligence, and the Attorney General were all on tight schedules, and the president’s meeting always ran long.
The DCI muttered, “What’s got your panties in a wad, Marty?”
The other three men grinned.
“I think this is serious shit. While you were in the Situation Room, I got a brief from our liaison at the FBI. The initial analysis is some fruit loop wants a SEAL to take out the president, and there’s enough….” He waved his hands in the air. “…atmospherics to suggest that a SEAL would be encouraged to take uni
lateral action.”
“Like that’s going to happen,” the Chairman said. “After taking out Osama bin Laden, this is ridiculous.”
“I don’t think we should overreact,” the SECDEF said. “This sounds like overreaction and a poor analysis.”
“No disrespect, Sir. I have to take this one seriously—and personally. You don’t know these guys. I can see someone looking to be a hero. There’s someone who wants to be like Mike Murphy. A real hero. In June, 2005, Lieutenant Mike Murphy exposed himself to enemy fire and left his covered position to get a clear signal with his cell phone. He provided his unit’s location and requested immediate support for his team. He was shot several times and died from his wounds, earning the Medal of Honor."
“Some of the guys will view this attack on their fellow SEALs as an extension of the war, and he will try to save his teammates. He’ll look to be a hero. All it takes is one try.”
“What are you suggesting?” the Attorney General asked. “A SEAL will try to kill the president?”
“I think it’s a possibility,” O’Sullivan said. “I can’t dismiss the probability, however small. If another SEAL is killed, there’ll be more pressure on one of the less-stellar SEALs to do something. I think there’s a good chance that a minor player would do anything to protect his fellow SEALs. I was a SEAL for fifteen years. If someone gets it into his head that his only way out of the situation is to protect his teammates….” He shook his head.
“The one thing you don’t want is a pissed-off SEAL on your ass,” SECDEF said. “We know no one can stop someone with a SEAL’s skill set.”
“You’re saying the president will be targeted by a SEAL?” the Attorney General asked. “Are you serious?”