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wasn’t the best of situations, but Blackwater had agreed to undertake the mission and time was of the essence. Fortunately, Blackwater had the advantage of an elite reputation in the security community and could recruit good people. While this was going on security enhancements recommended by the Secret Service needed implementation, including reinforcing the ambassador’s office to withstand explosions, and further restricting access to his office. We also had to find better, more secure living quarters for the boss—a house where he could live and that we could protect.
    In addition to the thirty-four guys that were selected, Blackwater also told me that as part of the contract there would be three MD-530 helicopters, six pilots, and four mechanics joining us as soon as they could recruit the right guys and get the “Little Birds” outfitted and ready for Baghdad. Estimated time of arrival was “about” thirty days. Finding housing and a place for the Little Birds would be a problem in and of itself.
    Bird and I were still working with the CID guys. It was not pretty. Hell hath no fury like a soldier being replaced by contractors. Somehow, to them, Bird and I were accountable for the changeover. They went out of their way to make our lives as difficult as possible. We pulled office watch all day long and made every Red Zone run with the boss. The CID totally slacked off. They used the office time to sleep, and at night they posted only one man outside the boss’s room. It quickly caught up with them. Early one morning while the Secret Service team was there doing some assessment, the agents went to the ambassador’s room and found no CID there. Another morning the ambassador left his room to find himself unprotected. Saying nothing he simply laced up his running shoes and went for his morning run without any security. From a protection perspective this was not good, not even if the ambassador enjoyed the solitude of being able to run alone for the first time in months.
    The Secret Service agents explained to us that incidents like these were a big part of the reason that CID was being replaced. Jim Cawley warned Bird and me that we had better never let them happen on our watch.
    We never did.

September 2003—BOOTS ON THE GROUND
    We got word our new guys would be inbound on 4 September. I was anxious for the official handover to take place, for it to be just our team, but first we had to find a place for them to live. The existing and functional trailers behind the palace were full, and the new ones in the five-hundred-man camp under construction were not yet ready. Our guys would be coming with communications equipment, weapons, ammo, two explosive-detection dogs, etc. We needed space. Bird somehow commandeered an old ballroom, and we placed thirty-four cots in it. Not the greatest living conditions by any stretch of the imagination, but certainly different. There was a small bathroom—complete with gold-plated fixtures—which all thirty-four guys would have to share. Organizing the logistics of the buildup while the ambassador worked his eighteen- to twenty-hour days required full concentration. The CID guys did not help us at all.
    Once the Blackwater team arrived there was supposed to be a ninety-six-hour grace period where the transition from CID to Blackwater would take place. The CID guys were to give us all the maps, grid coordinates, and advance surveys they had done. Unfortunately, the animosity had reached a level where little information sharing occurred. And Secretary of Defense (SecDef) Donald Rumsfeld was also coming to town. The team needed to hit the ground running. We had one day to train as a unit, and we were then handed the responsibility of protecting the most-threatened man in the world! Not the smoothest way to handle it. But we made it work.
    Our first Blackwater-only Red Zone meeting was a trip to the house of Abdul Aziz al-Hakim, a theologian and politician­ who was a member of the