Perseverance

By Dr T William Hefferan

In Book-1 of this adventure-thriller series, you’ll join Dr Will Ryan in the life-and-death struggles he and his Dream Team face during missions around the world. Their Agency, The Five Pillars of The Red Ring, is a US government agency even Congress doesn't know about!
Follow Dr Will Ryan as he leads Seal Team 6-like covert operatives to accomplish the impossible in any place on the planet. The Agency's secret weapon is their very own militia led by General Edgar Maldonado Ramirez, a military leader worth his weight in gold!
Read the incredible impossible--how President Lincoln sanctioned this agency 150 years ago when it was customary to keep things from Congress to get pet projects completed. Because of his untimely assassination, no branch of government to date is aware of this agency.
Based on real-life events, you feel a part of each mission as the Dream Team battles an adversary dedicated to bring-down the Agency. You'll meet covert operatives skilled in the use of cutting edge military equipment--with no reservations against using that raw power to follow their General's orders to create pure shock and awe!
While tangled in one mission, Dr Will Ryan is summoned to stop radical Middle Eastern terrorists from detonating a suitcase nuke in Denver as hateful retribution for US intervention in that oil rich region.
You'll accompany Dr Will Ryan on a 7200 foot climb into the Grand Canyon on a mission that took the life of his close friend. How could Dr Will Ryan toss his close friend Steve from the rim of the Grand Canyon creating a grizzly burial tomb 7200 feet below--just to save his own life? Turns out, any one of us would have done the same thing. You'll soon be a part of decisions far worse.
Each mission is wildly different. You'll be side-by-side with Dr. Will Ryan, the Dream Team and General Ramirez on missions in the Dominican Republic, Guatemala, Mexico, Puerto Rico, Arizona and the wilds of Alaska. You meet the cultures in each country and learn that even a dream-like resort community in rustic New Hampshire is not without a brush with death for Dr Will Ryan as he struggles to serve his country. Read the incredible story of that resort experience that leads to a re-birth of both Dr Will Ryan and the Agency itself.
Feel the real-life stories of the family lives of these covert operatives as they deal with the horrors of what they have to do day after day in all parts of the globe, then return home to deal with their family lives. They all want to tell their story but they can't--until now. This is a story you need to know. The world needs to know the real truth.
What about the real “behind the scenes” lives that all agents need to live in order to maintain their sanity while away from home facing capture and death every day? Read how Krissie, a pole-dancer from an exclusive-elite escorts' club on 8-Mile Avenue in Detroit, casts her magical spells on strung-out agents--privileged clients, turning the second floor of the club into customized individual Star Trek Hollow-deck dream-world experiences!
You will intimately get to know the characters in the book--all of whom deal in both the good, the bad and the ugly--ecstasy and nightmare both. Sex, Lies, and Videotape, as the movie title goes, it's all here in its sordid, uncensored details that make the book 50 Shades of Gray read like a grade school primer!
You'll learn how the Agency aims to re-form our very culture 100s of years hence just as Gene Roddenberry predicted. You'll experience just enough humor in the book to contrast what is too dark to deal with without that form of sedative.
This is just the beginning of your journey to become a dedicated fan of the Agency and Dr Will Ryan!
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• Language: English
• Publisher: Dr T William Hefferan
• Release date: Nov 22, 2013
• ISBN: 9781311102911

Dr T William Hefferan

My name is Bill Hefferan and I was born and raised in Washington, D.C. I currently reside in Isla Verde, Puerto Rico where I live on the most beautiful ocean in existence. I enjoyed my high school years in sight of D.C., in Alexandria, Virginia. I then attended Grand Valley State University and the University of Michigan, graduating with a Bachelor’s Degree in Business Administration (BBA). I also received two professional degrees: CCIM and CPM. As a life-long learner, I continued on to earn my M.B.A. and later my doctorate (DBA). The focus of my doctorate is Organizational Psychology and Social Science Research.I served in the Army for two years in Heidelberg, Germany in the Office of Public Affairs. I had a wonderful time as a writer for Army in Europe Magazine and traveled extensively into every country in Europe as a result of my various assignments for the magazine. In my spare time, I couldn't resist forging into business in Germany. I developed and operated three German restaurants in two different cities, managing them while maintaining my Army job (my Army boss was an investor in one of my restaurants so I had plenty of leeway!). One of my restaurants included a popular night club in which I had live music. All of my restaurants had the best cuisine in all of Germany! The two years were an incredible experience I will never forget.My hobbies include: small boat building, making furniture, and other wood working ventures. I also enjoy cooking which led me to write and publish a cook book, Cooking as an Event. My other passion is the Triathlon for which Puerto Rico is ideal! I have three children, the youngest having just graduated from college joins the other two with busy professional careers in different parts of the globe, so I don’t see them as much as I would like.I have been in the business of design, development and syndication of commercial investment real estate since my first year in college, a path which began when I started purchasing small apartment buildings when I was 18. I am currently the President/CEO of a commercial investment real estate design and development company based in Michigan. We have averaged about 100 employees. We deal in acquisitions, design, development, management and packaging of all types of commercial real estate projects, from creating new projects, re-hab of existing (primarily historic), or any other concept that will create a substantial return for the investors.These projects range from office buildings, shopping centers, medical centers, apartment complexes, hotels, to any type of project that fits a particular area and/or economic time. We conceptualize the idea, design the project, form the ownership entity, create the debt and equity structures, build the project, and manage it throughout its life cycle. I especially enjoy the many creative opportunities, beginning with the development of an idea, through the concept and design process, creating the marketing and branding strategies, the architectural stage, and the various financial structures that are all intriguing and challenging.WRITING BIO: Dr. T. William Hefferan1) Two years as a writer for Army in Europe Magazine, for which I traveled to virtually every country in Europe covering intriguing human interest stories.2) Wrote and published the book (408 pages, 2012), JOBS, How the U.S. Can Reach Long-Term Full Employment. Learn how everyone can successfully participate in our country’s essential shift into a knowledge worker economy in which everyone connects with meaningful and rewarding jobs. Innovation, entrepreneurship, education and leadership join with other important topics to reveal the contemporary path we will follow to full employment in the U.S. (self-published)3) Wrote and published the book (136 pages, 2001), The Old Colony Building which describes in critical detail the process of designing, developing, constructing and managing commercial investment real estate, including comprehensive financial analyses of each step. (self-published).4) Wrote and published the cook book (138 pages, 2002), Cooking as an Event, based on my travels in Europe and my extensive background of developing high-end restaurants in Europe and the United States. (self-published).5) Updated and published (168 pages 2010), Cooking as an Event Second Edition as a result of my years living and working in the Caribbean.6) Wrote in excess of 250 scholarly research papers during and subsequent to my 5-1/2 years doctoral studies.7) Wrote and published world-wide my peer-reviewed research study (216 pages, 2010), Employers and Job Seekers Pursue Mutual Excellence through Postmodern Communications Strategies. Based on several hundred hours of one-on-one interviews, this comprehensive research study uncovers innovative concepts for job seeker/employees and employers to establish mutually beneficial and rewarding employment relationships (EMBER).8) Twenty-three years as CEO of a commercial investment real estate development company, averaging 80 to 100 employees, I write marketing and promotional materials for each project we create which then forms the basis for the marketing strategy for each project.9) Wrote Perseverance. In this adventure thriller, inspired by real-life events, Dr. Will Ryan and The Five Pillars of the Red Ring -- a covert government Agency even Congress is unaware of -- aim to stop radical terrorists based in the Middle East from their new initiative to plant suitcase nukes in major U.S. cities as hateful revenge and retribution. This is the first in a series of 11 books that detail Dr. Will Ryan and his Seal Team 6-like operatives’ global missions to deploy their strategic covert military operations that focus on pure shock and awe. Join Dr. Will Ryan and The Five Pillars of the Red Ring and experience the life and death challenges that span the globe.10) I am editor of the blog: “The Place for Business” (www.DrHefferan.com) in which I write at least two comprehensive, entertaining and informative articles each week covering important contemporary topics: Entrepreneurship, Innovation, Employment Environment, Knowledge Worker Economy, Communication, Education and Social Responsibility. Stop by and join in the conversation – I hope to hear from you soon!

Book preview

INTRODUCTION

In this adventure-thriller, you’ll experience the life-and-death struggles of Dr. Will Ryan, lead agent for The Five Pillars of The Red Ring, a covert agency of the U.S. government even Congress is unaware of. Dr. Will Ryan and his Dream Team command groups of operatives — each similar to Seal Team 6 — and the Agency’s militia on missions around the world unencumbered by government oversight.

Based on real-life events, you feel a part of each mission as the Dream Team accomplishes impossible Agency goals while fighting against an adversary hell-bent on destroying the Agency’s mission at all cost. You’ll join Dr. Will Ryan on global missions to deploy strategic covert military operations that focus on pure shock and awe — aimed at stopping radical terrorists based in the Middle East from their new initiative to plant suitcase nukes in major U.S. cities as hateful revenge and retribution.

You’ll experience the real-life stories behind the personal lives of these covert operatives as they each deal with the horrors of what they have to do day after day in all parts of the globe. At the same time, they struggle with managing their personal lives and families at home. They all want to tell their story but they can’t — until now. The world needs to know. You need to know the truth.

What about the real behind the scenes lives that all agents need to live in order to maintain their sanity while away from home facing capture and death every day? Sex, Lies, and Videotape — as the movie title goes — it’s all here in its sordid, uncensored details that make 50 Shades of Gray read like a grade school primer!

In this first book in the series, you’ll follow Dr. Will Ryan on his 7200 foot climb deep into the Grand Canyon on a mission that took the life of his close friend. In the next few pages, you’ll be side-by-side with Dr. Will Ryan and the Dream Team on missions in the Dominican Republic, Guatemala, Mexico, Puerto Rico, Arizona, and the wilds of Alaska. Even a dream-like resort community in rustic New Hampshire is not without a brush with death for Dr. Will Ryan while he struggles to serve his country.

Dr. Will Ryan reveals how he and The Five Pillars of The Red Ring aim to create history — you’ll read exactly how it’s done — at all cost.

CHAPTER ONE

HELL-HOLE UNPLUGGED

And the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time.

— T. S. Eliot

Remove your shiny bling or you’ll get clubbed on the head and robbed the hard way, commanded the heavily armed gunman.

This was the only command, actually the only words spoken in the last 20 minutes by anyone in the car as the four of us zigzag through the city center of Santo Domingo, capital of the Dominican Republic. Some kind of bazaar going on, or whatever Webster calls this explosion of people, animals, clothing, food, commerce. Absolutely no room to drive.

Keep the guns out of sight! warns the bearded man behind the wheel.

My two body guards and my driver friend, Edgar, are frightened because they know they can’t stop — can’t hit anybody — but have to keep our speed up at all cost. It seems like a set on a movie in which our rusted-out Honda will surely get hit by a mortar shell at any second. Thinking I am in a movie is the only way I can keep my sanity.

Once safely out of the busy city-center of Santo Domingo, we pick up speed on our way to the airport. I’m always confident Edgar will get me there in one piece. Because he's well-known in the area by factions favorable to our Agency, as well as those not so favorable, he is always very concerned and cautious about moving around — especially when we go to the closely watched airport.

Edgar avoids the open expressways because that is where many assassinations take place. It is much easier to open up on a car — cruising along an open 4-lane highway — with an AK-47 than in a crowded city. So he snakes through busy side-streets on our way outside of Santo Domingo.

As we’re all breathing easier, I discuss with Edgar the arrangements he needs to make with the coyotes in Mexico City, Mexico. It’s hard to concentrate on business while weaving through the dead center of the city-center of the Capitol, the capital of the country of 10 million inhabitants.

Edgar, the five ‘Passengers’ you have here in the Dominican Republic (DR) right now will have to be brought through Mexico and up to Phoenix, Arizona in just over 30 days. I’ll give you the exact date as soon as I have it confirmed.

The hundreds of people all around our vehicle look like they are ready to do us bodily harm any second! Even though I take away any visible markers that I’m an American, even dressing as a DR inhabitant, Edgar warns me that everyone can tell. Dr. Will, never forget you have a target painted on your forehead!

Edgar knows his job well and shows it with his concerned response meant to assure me that he always has his plans well thought out.

That's good, 30 days is plenty of time because it takes just a week of lead-time to get the coyotes I use coordinated. The ones I'm using now are real killers; they're the only ones I can trust because they're not associated at all with the Hamas. If there is ever any chance any coyote is influenced by the Hamas, they know they’re out.

General Edgar Maldonado Ramirez worth his weight in gold!

Will our operatives they’re moving be in any danger? I already know the answer, but I always want to show my concerns about safety to him.

Dr. Will, I expect them to be aggressive when anyone gets in their way. They don't have any problem with using any force necessary that gets the job done really quickly. They also don’t have a drop of remorse when they don't get paid on time. They also act accordingly — they feel they need to send a message — even to me so I’ll make sure they get paid on time. Edgar always stresses the payment issue in his business because cash in the hand at the time of the service is critical to keep the wheels turning in Edgar’s well-oiled machine.

You don't mean they’ll open fire on the people that we’re moving up to Phoenix, do you? I purposely act astounded at this possibility even though I know it’s a possibility. I have to keep Edgar on his toes so he keeps tight reins on the killing machines he deals with.

You have to take the good with the bad, Dr. Will — especially when the success record and dependability of my trusted coyotes is close to hundred percent.

Well Edgar, I am personally the one meeting them there, so I will be sure to be there on time, believe me. AND — cash on delivery!

We’re just leaving the downtown area of Santo Domingo where it is catch as catch can. When you're not used to it, it looks like everyone around the vehicle is with the Hamas and ready to open fire. Edgar prepares us for the airport which is our next challenge.

Our adversaries are always watching the front entry, even the military guards — who I don't know if they're guarding anything or not — but they are there armed and ready for action of any kind.

Edgar is mostly afraid of the Hamas because they're there with one thing on their mind, to open fire on anyone who appears out of place like the people we transport from Israel to our training facilities called Stations. Concerning the five Passengers we’re moving in 30 days, they’re heading for the Station where one third of our training facilities are located.

Okay, Dr. Will, I know you're ready for our usual drop-off protocol, but let me remind you anyway how it goes. I drop Ramon off in the parking lot and he does his thing to create a diversion. Once the commotion is in full steam, and I feel it’s safe, I’ll quickly pull up to the front door of the airport lobby and you'll get out as fast as you can. From there you're on your own.

Edgar, I always love it when you tell me very casually — a diversion — I know your definition of diversion!

Once Ramon gets out of the car, leaving his weapon in the backseat next to me, Edgar slowly moves to the end of the parking lot, stops in a vacant space along the curb, at the very end of the parking lot near the beginning of the driveway in front of the airport terminal entry doors.

We patiently wait for those hour-long seconds to tick by — waiting for Ramon to do his thing, as he graphically defines Edgar’s version of a diversion.

Just then, we hear a sound that is the equivalent to that of a meteor striking the downtown area of New York City. Disintegrating vehicles rise off the surface of the parking lot — some quickly smashing pell-mell back down in every configuration conceivable, instantly followed by the biggest fireball I've ever seen, shooting high above the roof tops of the vehicles that still somehow remain close to the asphalt. Many still seem to hoover — seemingly motionless — at various heights aloft, while others begin arriving back to the surface of the crowded parking lot!

I'm sure Ramon never measures the amount of explosives he puts in his car bomb inventions! Needless to say, the entire mass of people around and near the terminal entrance either immediately leap flat on the floor or, in the case of those soldiers with weapons in their hand, begin running full tilt toward the fireball looking for fleeing assailants.

Before the smoke even comes close to clearing, our path is clear. As Edgar comes to a near stop in the area in front of the pedestrian entry to the airport, now clear of armed gunmen, I hop out of the slowly moving car as fast as I can without looking like a fleeing bank robber. Casually — if I can define a fast walk as casual — I enter the airport bound for the ticket counter — soon to be comfortably on my 8 hour journey ending up in Phoenix, Arizona.

I'm always amazed at how much Edgar loves his work. I think he orchestrates these magical fireball scenes just for his own enjoyment, even though they do always accomplish exactly what his missions demand.

My entrance into the airport and leisurely walk to the gate went unnoticed because of the huge explosion and the rush of every uniformed and un-uniformed gunman in sight, all intently racing to the scene. I am able to enjoy blending into the typical airport confusion which I like to classify as a cacophony of people carrying all kinds of different looking luggage — some even appear to be carrying chickens and goats and small children, all of which are making their own kinds of noises all at once. This magical orchestra of blended din always relaxes me after I leave Edgar’s creative chaos and hit the recline lever on my seat in first-class!

But Edgar's exit is considerably less soothing. As planned, during his high-speed exit attempt, he picks up his detonation expert barely getting him in the door before the last flying car crashes back to earth. The rescue is especially difficult due to Edgar’s lack of courtesy to adequately slow down to pick his man up in a proper fashion.

Edgar’s hope is to get to the airport exit gate before they close it down. But, luck is not with the boys today. To Edgar's delight, however, their only choice is to open fire and shoot their way through the gate. Given Edgar's love of the war-games, this is right up his alley — the preferred way to exit a scene. And, his men would have been disappointed otherwise. They all live for these action-packed encounters.

While the guards at the gate, all 12 of them, have automatic weapons — they are no match for Edgar's state-of-the-art weaponry, one of which is a 50 caliber automatic weapon that can easily take out a tank. The only difficulty with firing that weapon is that due to the size and weight of the gun, the operator has to be outside with the gun resting on the hood of the car. This makes him vulnerable to return fire from the guards.

Because of the high speed of the 50 caliber and the sheer power of the bullets, just 20 seconds of automatic fire from the 50 cal. Military weapon is enough to clear the way through the gates, any gates for that matter. Even though disintegrating the entry gates and the guards is a total success, his massive barrage of heavy artillery fire is not sufficient to protect Edgar’s 50-cal. marksman from being hit by at least 10 rounds in different places on his body.

His glorious death may sound grizzly until you frame that image in the last scene in the movie Scarface with Al Pacino. Recall his memorable death in which he continued firing his ultra-heavy weapon even after he was surely dead. But in his case, the drugs and adrenaline kept him firing as though he was still alive and kicking. Edgar’s hero, our hero soldier, stayed alive after death solely the result of his own powerful well-training and conditioned adrenaline designed to ensure victory at all cost.

Before our gunmen can finish his death scene and fall to the pavement, his body is swiftly yanked into the back seat while Edgar has his foot jammed down on the accelerator and smashes through the pile of debris and over the now dead airport guards. Edgar’s smoke-filled exit path includes careening through what was once the ticket-taker shacks typical to airport entries and exits. The entire airport scene looks as though two armies fought it out for 2 to 3 days when in fact this exit took no longer than 3 minutes — 12 casualties on the enemy side and one on our side.

Edgar needs a fast exit because his time is limited. His men are waiting for him on the high-speed, Picchiotti style tunnel-hull, 52 foot ocean racer — powered by four supercharged 454 cubic inch, Chevrolet racing engines, each with 950 horse power. The boat is capable of speeds that can exceed 165 miles per hour in calm ocean waters. Obviously, he never relies on the airports in the DR because he is so well known there and is wanted by the good guys and the bad guys. His sea plane works fine except when he needs to bring a large number of soldiers with him. Edgar never wants to be late for his next mission.

Edgar’s trip from the coast of the Dominican Republic to the coast of Mexico takes him less than 14 hours. This gives him plenty of time to plan the strategy how he will recruit the necessary people he needs when he eventually gets to Mexico City. He needs to connect with his usual coyote group who will do anything if the price is right.

In addition, he needs some extra time to recruit soldiers for his militia, currently in excess of 125 soldiers. Even though Edgar only lost one man today, he has to stay ahead of the game because one loss a day is sometimes a conservative estimate. Edgar has to deal with the military side of things and take on the role as a guerilla — equivalent to those who operate on the African continent. As ruthless as they are, they have to be kept in order through strict discipline to be effective. In the shadows of the criminal side of Mexico, you have to show without a shadow of a doubt that you are more ruthless than the next guy. If you fail to get sufficiently into this game, you’re as easy a target as the airport guards were for Edgar and his two men.

Once Edgar connects with the four coyotes, each side knows that the other means business. The only thing that keeps the other side alive is that they honor their commitments. It's as simple as that. If you do what you agreed to do, you’re home free. If you don't show up on time or fail to pay what you agreed to pay on the exact time you agreed to pay, you can expect only one fate — the fate that every one of Edgar's soldiers understands well. His men sign up for this game knowing the perils, just like our sharpshooter with his 50 caliber machine gun. It's all in the game — that's why they call it a game — to them it is the only game they live to play.

Edgar's coyotes know they don't even need to ask for prepayment from a trusted ally like Edgar because each side knows once they have the money, only a greenhorn should expect to be jilted at the altar. The only way to achieve successful delivery of what is agreed upon is to both commit to the payment at a future time with a future set amount when the job is done. No written contract, no threats, it’s just reputation that sets the rules of the deal — otherwise you end up as a pile of dead bodies like the fate of the airport guards.

The deal is set and Edgar knows his people will do their job. Now it's up to me to get there with the money in plenty of time to save lives and to save Edgar's reputation that we count on and depend on for future negotiations.

____________________

I better back up a bit. That opening scene at the airport came at the tail end of my most recent Hell-hole. My description of that three minute event gives some insight into how tough situations remain as crystal clear as the time you were in them, even years later. You may not know that until you begin to write about them or attempt to recount the event to someone.

Or a shrink does the digging for you.

With some really bad situations, you think bad memories will disappear over time, but they never do. They’re always there. Sure, some are hard to pry loose, but dig and you shall find. I refer to these traumatic — memorable events as Hell-holes.

I seem to transition from one Hell-hole to the next, where every other one brings me to 100% certainty that I don’t have a chance in hell to make it out alive. My only saving grace in the hellacious brief experience I just went through came from imagining I was an extra on a movie set with Edgar at the helm. And I was one of the figments of the director’s creative juices so I could easily cheat death.

Nothing was real to me. I could never get hurt. Or killed. I could deal with people with guns and the like. You’ve been there. I know you have. Your Hell-hole may not include guns and bombs and people dying all around you — maybe it’s a bad auto accident that spins your head out of control. You may not know it now, but after you read the vivid accounting of one of my personal Hell-holes that lay ahead, you might be shocked enough to discover your vivid memories of a past you thought you forgot. But they are still alive and well in your hippocampus. They are disguised as electric bits fused with complex chemicals waiting to spring to life — sometimes with no warning.

My name is Dr. Will Ryan, born and raised in Washington, D.C., son of a General in the United States Air Force. General T. Willy, my Dad, aligned my life with my destiny before I was even one year old. Little Billy, I was called, was preordained and destined to follow his Dad and dedicate his life to Service of Country. But my job with the U.S. government could never be revealed to the public, not even to my friends and family. Everything I’ve done throughout my life is dictated by the demands of aligning my personal life with exactly what my father had set-up for me.

As I walked the shores and cruised the waters of the Potomac River during my many Sea Explorer trips beginning at the age of 12, I wondered — I wanted to know — about the connection my family has with this area, with Washington, D.C., with this country. Somehow, I could feel a connection, as though the water, the trees, the smell of the air in the areas along the river where our troop camped, were a part of me. These ordinary natural things are the building blocks that comprise who I am. I wanted to understand the fears that shaped the secret lives in my own family history. I am certain I am looking at the mysterious substances all around me that represent the forgotten lives of generations of my relatives who carried the same genes I now call my own. I am their future product.

Am I also the product of what I’m seeing in the daily life in Washington D.C.? This is where the many wars we fought actually began and ended, whether or not physically or just in the minds of the politicians who decide our fate. How do I really fit in with the grand scheme of things? What destiny has my family who arrived on these shores in the late 1600s from Ireland, created for me? Have I inherited the family genes of those courageous souls who made the long journey into unknown lands? How do I discover my true meaningful path? My ultimate role?

That gene, the cause of my constant need to explore and reach for new challenges, is the product of my ancestors who set the pattern I now follow. That gene and its associated adventurous behavior probably drove them as it does me, pushing them beyond the mundane. The family gene conveniently places us as prime candidates to lead an Agency that includes brushes with situations filled with challenge and excitement, constantly engaging in new adventures.

There are a few more dots to connect to understand how I decided to follow suit with my family and dedicate my life to service of country. My father had an upper-class background and genealogy. He and his brother Bob attended Choate Prep School, Yale University undergrad, and then Harvard Law School. It was the path the upper-crust seemed to follow in the 1920s and 1930s. And, of course, the sons had to follow in their father’s footsteps. My grandfather set the education standards for the family with his series of elitist schools.

Once they finished their long education journey, my father’s family all seemed to focus on becoming leaders in the community. They wanted to help other people based on the family’s early experiences after moving here from Ireland in the late 1600s to the early 1800s. They received help and support upon arriving on our shores and they felt a duty to always give back.

The potato famines of the mid-1700s and again in the mid-1800s, created a mass exodus from Ireland, so many needed help when they arrived in the U.S. During those times, most everyone was an immigrant and felt a duty and desire to offer help others arriving on the same shores. Most everyone immigrating here had just left their home countries filled with adverse conditions that left them no choice but to flee.

My mother was more or less closer to the opposite end of the social scale than my father. She was from a solid blue color background in which she and her family struggled through the Great Depression. My grandfather, her father, had to work hard to support the family. What might seem simple today, literally putting food on the table was especially tough back then because there was no social safety net until many years later. He luckily became a letter carrier (common term is of course mailman).

Pap was extremely dedicated to that job in order to make absolutely sure he kept that all important paycheck to support his family. Even into his 70's, he still got up and had coffee at 3:30 every single morning long after he retired.

Pap, why do you get up so early every morning? I was 6 years old when I made that inquiry one morning. I was coming out of a long battle with Scarlet Fever and couldn’t sleep that night/morning.

Billy, I was dedication to make sure I did the best I could on my job and I made sure I was never late or missed a single day. I always reported extra early for work, because the people on my route needed their mail. And they were my friends. Because I was so dedicated for so many years, the early morning hour never left me; it’s just a part of who I am.

He gazed directly at his coffee cup with an emotional expression that told the story of those Depression Era years. Even at my young age, it was obvious to me that the memories of those days were crystal clear in his head.

You mean your boss would fire you if you were ever late? I wanted to know more.

No, I’m sure he wouldn’t have fired me if I was late once or twice, but I couldn’t take a chance on it. I felt it was too important to my children and your grandma that I always bring home that paycheck; otherwise we wouldn’t have any money to pay for our home or even for food. It was really bad back in those days. His telling gaze never diminished as he bared his soul to me, never breaking his stare into his coffee cup.

Given the 25% plus unemployment of the day, he felt blessed that he even had a job at all. It was what he was supposed to do. It was what you had to do — there were no alternatives. He had to support a large family of six. You do what you have to do, day after day. It was so much different back then. The very rich and the very poor, there was hardly anything in between.

The ending of the Second World War brought my father to the Pentagon and Pap from Cleveland, Ohio. He and his family migrated across the country from Ohio for his dream job in Washington, D.C. as a letter carrier — a government job. Without those two unconnected life events, my mother never would have met my father. They represented two opposite ends of the social scale — as far apart as two young adults could possibly be.

This was a sign of the times we now only read about. We try to imagine how things could have been so different. Those were tough times for struggling families who lost everything during the Great Depression. Many had little or no access to food and other basic essentials. Being raised by parents from opposite ends of the social strata was profoundly illuminating.

Soon after the War ended, the economy began to improve, in part, as a result of the introduction of jobs programs and incentives for business created by the government. Growing up in Washington, D.C., we became accustomed to the life of a high ranking military officer. This was a stark difference for my mother, but par for the course for my father.

There were numerous social gatherings in which children were included. We met other officers’ families and politicians. The Officers’ Club was a hub for deal-making between two distinctly different groups. One half of the discussion was populated with politicians — on the other side were the high ranking Generals, festooned with medals and ribbons that made my sister Patty and I squint from the sheen of their flashing awards of valor plastered all over their dress uniforms. As a family, we frequented many similar places, but the Officers’ Club was by far my sister and my favorite haunt.

She recalls our favorite as kids was oysters on the half shell, which I still love today. However, I have a different memory of our regular evenings at the Officers’ Club. I vividly remember she and I always selected the full lobster dinner! Could be we’re both right. We probably had oysters on the half shell for hors d’oeuvres at each meal, followed with full lobster dinner as our main entrees. We were always there for hours, so we had plenty of time to digest our enormous meals.

Our social calendar included visits to New York City and other hot spots along the East coast to visit friends, relatives and business associates of my father. Because of the heavy Jewish population along the East Coast, I became very close to many Jews. My family, in general, was very close to the Jewish population. My mother was of the Jewish faith and my father was Catholic. As a result, most of my parents’ guests at parties at our home were Jews. My future was heavily influenced because of my mother and father's civilian friends in Washington, D.C. My childhood friends were Jews. I learned everything there is to know about the Jewish culture all throughout my early years. You will learn how aspects of their culture affect how I run the Agency today.

My father, having served as an intelligence officer and bomber pilot in World War II and the Korean War, knew how meaningful and fulfilling his life-and-death struggles were for him, beyond just serving in combat. My father was certain I would inherit his adventure gene; he wanted me — not yet born — to experience the same fulfillment he felt. His commitment to the country was in spite of the fact that he knew my path would parallel his. Unless he intervened and decided to keep me out of this dangerous life, I would also face what he faced day after day.

On a late evening in the Philippine Islands, as he lay quietly in a mud filled ditch, he faced the unthinkable. He was right in the middle of watching the Japanese question his copilot following the bail out from their B-29 destroyed by Japanese Zeros. His temporary muddy safe-zone was tucked behind a thick eucalyptus tree which provided him a few minutes to contemplate the critical role he plays in serving his country. Just as he made the decision to commit his yet to be born son to follow in his footsteps and serve his country, a curved, wooden handled Japanese sword swung wildly through the hot steamy island heat of the night and swiftly decapitated his copilot’s head, just 15 feet from my father.

With capture and death imminent during my father’s two week swamp and mosquito invested ordeal, he evaded capture day after day — night after night. Following his 12th bail out of a B-29 during the war, he never gave up wondering if he made the right decision to ensure I would follow him as a covert operative accomplishing the unpublicized needs of our government.

The lure of helping so many people is something profoundly fulfilling, a unique feeling only felt when you know what you are accomplishing serves your country. Perhaps the dangers he faced makes serving even more rewarding. He always knew he would somehow create the same rewarding path for me even before I was born. His planning took me by the hand right from birth. I felt his tight, reassuring grasp throughout my life.

As he lay motionless in the swamp, he had no idea he would advance from his current rank of Air Force Captain to earn the rank of General and work in the Pentagon years later. But he knew he would dedicate his resources in Washington to pave the way for me to follow in the family footsteps.

As a high ranking officer in Washington, D.C., where I spent my growing up years, you can accomplish almost anything. Ultimately, it was easy for him to set-up the path for me he had just created in his head while witnessing the grizzly death of his best friend, decapitated right in front of his eyes. His post card to me reveals the hidden layer — the message — that continues to inspire and motivate me to forge ahead through any adversity in the path he created for me.

Two weeks crawling through Philippine swamps almost guarantees Malaria will consume any human being who has no food or cover. He ate worms and leafy green plants to stay alive while avoiding Japanese troops. As the Malaria was slowly bringing on delirium, thoughts of me consumed his two week ordeal. Thoughts of my future were filling his mind just as he had the blurry image of fellow US soldiers arriving with a rescue team. That was the perfectly timed serendipitous event that assured him his decision about my destiny was correct.

I pattern my life — everything and everywhere I travel, even in my personal life — around my secret identity as a covert operative in a U.S. government Agency that has a unique mission. No one hears about me, knows about me, or, as yet, has ever associated my real identity with what I do.

From my early introduction to what training is all about as a 12 year old in the Sea Explorers, and advanced training in the U.S. Army, my life revolved around continuous training and education to prepare me for the life my father had set-up for me very early in my life. Yet, as a kid growing up, I was never completely aware of the mission I would face later in live. My life slowly becomes more complicated as the details of my life’s direction slowly unfold.

My father sent me that post card when I was not yet one year old. My real name is covered over for obvious reasons, but I left the designation, III representing my lineage connecting me to my father and grandfather, all dedicated to the same mission. My son bears the same name as his predecessors with the addition of, IV.

In his postcard, my father describes the restaurant in Washington, D.C. where he and his Agency buddies would meet regularly. Note in his message on the card that he promises me that his favorite spot will be there when I get old enough to visit it.

He was