Posted on 05/25/2002 8:29:48 AM PDT by Pharmboy
EGG HARBOR, N.J. — "I want another drink," complained the impatient man in an aisle seat in the fourth row of the jet's first-class cabin, addressing a flight attendant.
"Come on, wench," he said, growing louder. "I told you I want one every five minutes."
In this drill, in a fuselage that has a working intercom and emergency slides but no longer flies, several air marshals were aboard. But only one stepped forward to identify himself and confront the man. The others did not give up their cover, in case it was a diversion intended to draw them out. But the one had no trouble.
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"Get out of my face," said the unruly passenger, but about a second after that, the marshal yanked the man from his seat by the head and shoved his face to the aisle floor. Gripping the man's head between his knees, the marshal cuffed his hands behind his back and then showed the procedure for subduing the man in a seat, reassuring other passengers that the situation was under control.
The passengers would have remained calm anyway, being dummies. They looked real except that each was cut off at midthigh so the torso would be in the proper position when propped up on the seat. A few had bullet holes from previous drills.
On the runway at the Atlantic City airport, next to the Federal Aviation Administration's research and development headquarters, a crew of air marshals recently showed off their training and a hint of tactics for reporters. In one drill, a man playing a terrorist appeared from the front with a knife and was brought down by two marshals firing rounds akin to paintballs. In another drill, in a "shoot house" where visitors could observe from a bulletproof balcony, three marshals fired semiautomatic pistols, Sig Sauer 229's loaded with .357-caliber rounds, to bring down three hijackers. There is a protocol, firing bullets in sets of three.
"Two to the chest, one upstairs; two to the chest, one upstairs," said Brad Delauter, a senior instructor. The marshals are supposed to be able to fire three shots in 6 seconds; in 15 seconds they are supposed to fire three, reload and fire another three. Their guns, Swiss-designed and German-built, hold 13 rounds but in training are loaded with 3 to require frequent reloading. Following a strict script, a marshal who must reload tells his partners to cover him, then announces when he is done.
They train to shoot while seated, to stand and shoot, to kneel and shoot, to shoot from around bulkheads, to pirouette and shoot behind them, to "check their six," or ascertain that when there is a disturbance in front of them there is not something else going on behind them.
"I got a Tango," one shouted, using police slang for terrorist, after bringing down a comrade playing the role.
Protocol includes a scripted message to the captain, spoken on the plane's phone or shouted through the door, that there has been an "incident" and that the cockpit is secure.
Posters at the shooting range remind the marshals of the proper terminology and give instructions. One reads, "Dominate + Intimidate = Control."
The training does not include instruction on how to fly planes, but marshals are given "cockpit familiarization," including how to use the radios, and the location of such critical controls as the lever that lowers the landing gear. The idea is that if the cockpit crew were disabled or dead, they could get instructions from the ground on how to land.
Another part of the training is how to find a bomb in carry-on baggage while the plane is in flight, and where in the passenger cabin to put it to reduce the chance that it will make the plane crash.
They train around the country, but the headquarters is here, adjacent to the research headquarters. In an operations center, a room crammed with new computers and the cardboard cartons they came in, staff members deploy agents the way a good travel agent might route travelers, avoiding the airports where a snowstorm is likely to tie up traffic, or some other problem is likely to cause flight delays.
Air marshals do not do much good on the ground, officials say, though they will not talk about how many there are or how many flights they are on. The marshals are not believed to have foiled any hijackings, either before Sept. 11, when only a handful were flying, or since, but they have restrained some unruly passengers. Their function is to deter, which is difficult to measure.
"You don't immediately know what you have and haven't foiled," said Gregory M. McLaughlin, deputy director of the Federal Air Marshals.
Because they work undercover, the marshals are guarded about their identities and details of their procedures. They joke about the more mundane difficulties of their jobs: perennially dry skin from flying so much, and a steady diet of airline food. One said he carries a bag of bananas so he can turn down airline meals.
They also joke about a new pastime among passengers, which they call Make the Marshal. Mr. McLaughlin said a woman seated next to him on one flight struck up a conversation and then, looking all around but not at him, said, "I wonder who the marshals are on this flight." He joined her in looking.
"On a New York-to-Washington flight, you look like a New York-to-Washington businessman," he said. "If you're going to Hawaii, you look like you're going on vacation."
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