Most military and law enforcement
officers are aware of the term, "Op Sec". If the person worked as a
member of an elite unit such as SWAT, a counter terrorism unit, or an
undercover unit investigating drug cartels, organized crime or street gangs,
the concept of, "Op Sec" would have been pounded into you.
It is a terrible feeling leaving a
jump off point like an undercover van and moving towards the front door of a
fortified house thinking, "Do they know we're coming"? The first
indication you would likely see if there had been a failure of, "Op
Sec" would be muzzle flashes from the corner of one of the front windows
or the side yard. By then, the rounds being fired at you may have already
done their prescribed damage resulting in you or a team member never even
reaching the entry point.
"Op Sec" is an
abbreviation for the term, "Operational Security". Early in my SWAT
career, I frequently had no idea about the who, what, where, when, and why,
number of adversaries, their weapons, or crime history profile until I arrived
at the mission briefing. A meeting frequently held at about 4 AM in a
secure facility, on the morning of the operation. By limiting the number
of people with prior knowledge of the mission helped to keep the upcoming
party, a surprise. More complicated missions with multiple targets
frequently required weeks of preparation. If you were in the public or outside
a secure briefing, you had to keep your mouth shut about any aspect of the
pending mission. No joking, no kidding, no ....
When I looked down at the cheese
flop, I knew my past experiences and "Op Sec" procedures would need
to be, "dusted off" and put to work. The cheese flop actually
began when the cheese teetered for about three quarters of a second on the edge
of my hand as I moved it from the outdoor counter to the awaiting burger on our
old gas grill. The grill I get so frustrated with because it burns unevenly.
I noticed the thin slice of cheese seemed to hesitate in mid-air before
racing to the ground as it felt the full effects of gravity. When it hit
the exposed aggregate concrete in front of our barbecue, it made a unique,
"plop" sound. It was not the first time that ever happened.
In fact, it has happened pretty regularly.
As the cheese flop laid quietly on
mother earth, I was shocked. I just starred at it. Nothing happened. It
did not disappear. I remember thinking that had never happened before.
As I continued staring at the cheese, I began to smell the burning
burgers on the grill. Well, at least part of the burgers. I think I audibly
sighed as I realized yet once again, that both of our treasured golden
retrievers were really gone.
Even while growing up as a kid, my
dad would sometimes drop little pieces of food off the grill by,
"accident". Over all those years and even when Theresa and I began
living in San Diego, a cheese flop was always followed by a few quick moves of
our golden retrievers who would eat the cheese. Their tails would wag
like crazy, as they smiled at me hoping I would have another,
"accident". I would usually comment on what a fabulous chef I was.
Daisy and Rosie always agreed with me. Very kind dogs that would never hurt
anyone. One just a puppy and the other about five years old. As I
slowly reached down and picked up the cheese, I realized again how much our
entire family missed them.
The road of life is full of twists
and curves. Sometimes when you find yourself in a curve it is better to
accelerate than slow down. Our most recent curve involved our golden
retrievers. About four months ago, we gave both of our dogs to a great
family in northern California. "Ali", The nine year old,
granddaughter of Jeannie, our office manager, had prayed consistently for over
three years for a white golden retriever. Her prayers and that of her
amazing family were finally answered. The night I gave Daisy and Rosey to
them, I knew we would have to get a replacement.
I tried my own discreet way to get a miniature, Goldendoodle. I still don't know if golden doodle should be one or two words. Searching for a new dog is so complicated. I have honestly never been a fan of small dogs, but I knew our kids needed to grow up around at least one dog. I figured I would take one for the team. After all, our boys had lost some spring in their steps since Daisy and Rosie were relocated.
About a month ago under very tight, "Op Sec" procedures, I started the search for our new dog. I swore close friends to secrecy, and began making discreet late night phone calls. I searched the internet and even put the Community Hub Mole on it to check with his operatives. I was going to surprise the family on our wedding anniversary and Ryan's, eighth birthday. A month later and I had not gotten far. My secret mission was falling apart. In fact, I slipped up. Theresa saw I had left on the I-Pad, "history" the search term, "goldendoodles". A mistake like that on the SWAT team would have resulted in me feeling pretty foolish.
I was running out of time with
Ryan's birthday only a week away. Under intense smiles and excitement of
Theresa, I cracked. I confessed about my secret plan. She
immediately took over as Mission Leader. Over the next three days I kept
whispering to her, "Op Sec" when she would stumble and say something
out loud or leave her emails to breeders or Internet searches open for the kids
to find.
Ultimately, Theresa's "Op Sec" was not very good at all and the overall mission was not tactically, "tight". I kept biting my tongue because I wanted it to be perfect. I kept thinking tactical operations always have to be a surprise. Our three boys, Troy, Raymond, and Ryan soon developed an inkling their dog drought would soon end.
It was early in the evening when we brought them into the living room and said, "we want you to meet one of our new clients". We pointed to a covered laundry basket in the middle of the room. Raymond was the first to shout out before the blanket was removed, "it's a puppy". It was certainly not a round being fired from a fortified structure, but it went right through both our hearts anyway. Just the way he said it. Their astonished looks, smiles, yelling, and emphatic hugs of "Joey" or "Joe" for short was priceless. Time slowed slowed down as we watched them celebrate.
Later in the day, I commended Theresa on what a terrific Mission Leader she was. Objective was achieved, no injuries and all team members were home safe with their families. That' is after all why we signed up.
Have a great week!
Ultimately, Theresa's "Op Sec" was not very good at all and the overall mission was not tactically, "tight". I kept biting my tongue because I wanted it to be perfect. I kept thinking tactical operations always have to be a surprise. Our three boys, Troy, Raymond, and Ryan soon developed an inkling their dog drought would soon end.
It was early in the evening when we brought them into the living room and said, "we want you to meet one of our new clients". We pointed to a covered laundry basket in the middle of the room. Raymond was the first to shout out before the blanket was removed, "it's a puppy". It was certainly not a round being fired from a fortified structure, but it went right through both our hearts anyway. Just the way he said it. Their astonished looks, smiles, yelling, and emphatic hugs of "Joey" or "Joe" for short was priceless. Time slowed slowed down as we watched them celebrate.
Later in the day, I commended Theresa on what a terrific Mission Leader she was. Objective was achieved, no injuries and all team members were home safe with their families. That' is after all why we signed up.
Have a great week!
