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Men in the Puller family did not cry. That was Rule One. Men in the Puller family remained calm and in control at all times, because that raised the odds of victory. That was Rule Two. Any rules after that were largely superfluous.
You couldn’t kill what you couldn’t see coming.
gear pack in the trunk. It was contained in a customized infantry rucksack with over a hundred compartments. It held pretty much everything he would need in the field: light blue latex gloves, flashlights, paper bags, body bags and tags, 35-millimeter and instant cameras, green biohazard suits complete with hood and air filtering gear, white field evidence collection scrubs, tape measure, ruler, evidence tape, departmental file forms, latent print kit, GSR analysis kit, barrier sheeting, digital recorder, crime scene notebook, medical equipment kit, shoe covers, body thermometer, purification
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Army Rule Number One: Find a dependable place for chow.
“Contrary to popular belief, the United States Army has a sense of humor.”
In death everybody was ugly.
are you bionic?” He shrugged. “No, I’m just in the Army.”
When someone drew down on you, you watched her eyes; that told you intent.
He fires off one round merely to warm his rifle barrel. No matter how good a shot you were, a bullet traveling down a cold barrel often misses its target.
There are no second acts on the desert stage.
All for the next three minutes. Because that’s probably how long it will take to declare a winner in this one encounter between desperate
men. If you multiply all these individual fights to the death by a factor of a million it will add up to something called a war.
She shook her head. Tears dribbled out of her eyes. A big sign of myocardial infarction was an elephant on the chest. Next big sign: sharp pain along the left arm. Not always the case and not always the left, particularly with women,
If she had a clot, aspirin was a good way to prevent platelet clumping. And it kicked in fast. And it didn’t screw with your blood pressure. The problem with nitro was that it only treated symptoms, not the underlying coronary disease. It would help with her chest pain, but if her blood pressure was already low the nitro would push it lower still; that’s just the way it worked. That could significantly worsen the heart problem and also cause organ shutdown.
Fluids got the blood pressure up. Same method the docs used to save Reagan after he’d been shot.
With heart distress, your artery was undergoing spasms. The nitro knocked that out. With the spasms gone lots of good things could happen, at least until the ambulance arrived.
Stacks of things people her age often collected lay everywhere. It was like they were trying to stop time in its tracks by holding on to all that had come before. Stopping their march to death. As if any of us could.
But when it was hot outside, you drank something hot. That made your body cool itself. When it was cold, the opposite. Simple science.
The mind was a funny thing. Give it time and something fresh usually popped.
I didn’t think stubborn people could be hypnotized. But apparently they’re the most susceptible.”
“Detective Mickey Mouse. The guy who sold it was named Walt Disney.” “A crime lab’s logo is a cartoon character?” “When you’re that good, who cares what your logo is?”
The Taliban and al-Qaeda had been very clever about leading American soldiers into traps. They could find ways to make something actually very deadly look entirely innocuous. Children, women, pets.
“What counts is what happened,”
“It’s nice to help the salts of the earth,” replied Puller quietly. “They usually get the shaft.”
“I’m sure you have questions.” “I don’t like people prying into my stuff, and I’m going to show you the same courtesy.”
the Army had drilled into him the value of knowing the field on which the battle will be fought. He found the same to be true for the investigative side.
the Army taught you to control everything. Yourself. Your opponent. What all the training didn’t tell you was that the most important things, the ones that actually decided life and death, were almost completely outside your control.
the ubiquitous “I Love Me” Wall that was filled with photos of the flag officer and his famous friends.
The lower level at the Pentagon was a bewildering maze of sterile white corridors that not a drop of sunlight would ever touch. It was Pentagon lore that there were DoD employees from the 1950s still wandering around down here trying to find their way out.
In the Army brevity was a virtue beyond all others.
They were informed by Puller and confirmed by Bolling that Puller was cleared for everything up to “TS/SCI with polygraph” and had a “valid need to know.” In the intelligence world those phrases opened many a locked door and mouth.
that was what the military was always fighting for, the rights and freedoms of the next generation.
It was also part of Army lore that Puller Sr. could kill you with a look that would induce such a deep sense of shame at your having failed him that you would just curl up and die.
Two big wars. Two big victories. The military didn’t mind building on past successes.
He didn’t like other people finding him. He liked to find them first.
“I’d last five seconds up there. I don’t play well with others.” “You might surprise yourself.” “No, I might shoot somebody.
George had smoked four cancer sticks, and he milks them for all he can.” “Will you please stop calling them cancer sticks!” he snapped. “Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. Touchy. George had smoked four of his coffin nails,
if he gets killed that second chance will have come at a big cost.” “Most second chances do. And most of the time they’re worth it.”
I wanted to fill a need. That’s the best way to build something that’s lasting.”
If he was going to die, he wanted his last image to be of a man in a uniform going off to fight for something worth fighting for.
“I don’t play the odds. I prepare for all contingencies.”
Puller liked details. They were often the difference between walking out of a situation and being carried out of it.
It was hot as hell and the sun blazed overhead. The humidity and heat combination must have been in the triple digits. And all Puller felt was the icy cold of nearby death. He lightly touched the polished mahogany, mumbled a few words that felt wholly inadequate. An inferior Romeo for the fallen Juliet.
