There I was, knee deep in hand grenade pins, the Soviets rolling over the hill in T72 tanks, me with only a P38 and the pucker factor of a gnat’s ass.

Wait. Wrong story. Back up, let me try again.

There I was, knee deep in a triple canopy rain forest, birds screaming in the trees, death adders making the long grass tremble as I trained Papua New Guinea soldiers in the correct way to fire and break down an Ultimax 100.

Yeah. That’s the story I was looking for.

It was the early 1990s and I was on a several month tour in Papua New Guinea. Among my missions was to assist in training Papua New Guinea (PNG) soldiers in advanced infantry techniques. One of the interesting things about the PNG defense forces was that they didn’t have a national weapon. They used all sorts. Some carried M16s. Some carried AK-47s. Still others carried British SA-10s, with its fixed optical sight system. On this particular day in the 110 degree jungle somewhere near the Kokoda Trail, a platoon of irregulars was testing the Ultimax.

[Oh, this is going to be good...]

Twenty U.S. naval reserve officers arrive at Fort Huachuca, Arizona. These officers are from New York City, and in their day jobs they are longshoremen, firemen, police officers . . . and three Italian chefs. They are destined for service in Guantanamo Bay, Cuba, where—as reserve naval officers—they will conduct interrogation operations in support of national defense. These men and women are hardened individuals, with no-nonsense approaches to life, and consider themselves ready to face anything.

As the training commences, it becomes evident that these are the right people for the job. Their hard-edged countenances and their single-mindedness allow them to succeed where many others have failed. Towards the end of the training, however, as they excel, they begin to become overconfident. Several of them  reach the point of cockiness.

[Excellence breeds cockiness, which breeds . . .]

It’s Saturday night. You have your best duds on. You’ve actually taken a shower. You might have even combed your hair. You’re now ready to hit the party. But are you really ready? Do you know how to get what you want? Do you even know what you want?

And yes. You want something.

No, really. It’s true. Everyone wants something at a party, even you. Whether it’s access to the best drinks, a date with a certain girl or guy, or maybe to learn some trade secrets; you want something.

When trying to decide the best historical references for espionage or intelligence gathering I could use as an example, I contemplated Hannibal, Alexander the Great, Caesar, Hitler, Churchill, and Wild Bill Donovan, as well as organizations like the MOSSAD, KGB, GRU, Stasi, and MI6, but in the end, I came up with the American high school cheerleader.

[Stopping evil in the cheer-tatorship?]

Sometimes when I travel I feel paranoid and delusional. But am I really? After all, I could be standing beside a terrorist and not even know it. With the growth of home grown terrorists in America, I could be swapping football woes with someone contemplating blowing up a public building!

I don’t bother with profiling to determine who might be dangerous. That’s too much of a blind bet. Instead, I’ve been trained to look at two things: their position in the terminal and their eyes.

The more dangerous person sits alone, usually with his back against a wall or a bank of windows. He has a carry-on, almost always black, because of a desire to blend in (hopefully no bad guys are reading this or else I suspect there might be a spike in lone men traveling with pink carry-ons). I frequently spy these men (and they usually are men) with glasses, often of the mirrored type.

So I’ve seen a man sitting alone against a bank of windows with a black carry-on. Should I be scared? Should I report his man?

Absolutely.

Not.

It could be a covert TSA officer. It could be a drug enforcement or customs border patrol agent or an air marshal. It could even be a police officer. The larger airports experience a deluge of interagency requests for operations to be conducted, whether purely monitoring or targeting.

If you’re in a large airport, the chances are the person is question either has already been targeted, or is the one doing the targeting.

But what about the eyes? You said the eyes give you away.

Not always, but they are great indicators.

Look at the eyes. You should see calm, tired, maybe a little stressed. You shouldn’t see focused attention and or anger. It’s amazing how often someone’s fear at getting caught translates into anger. Angry people are targeted.

But what does this mean? What should I be doing? Should I be as paranoid and delusional as you, Mr. Ochse?

Definitely not. But you should be aware. If you see someone suspicious, glance around. See if anyone’s looking at them. See how and where they are sitting. See their eyes, if you can. If you feel nervous, there’s no reason you can’t approach a TSA agent or a policeman on a Segway and point out your concern. After all, you’re not being paranoid and delusional. You’re being careful.

Weston Ochse’s last name is pronounced “oaks.” Together with his first name, it sounds like a stately trailer park. He is the author of nine novels, most recently SEAL Team 666, which comes out in December 2012. He lives in the Arizona desert within rock throwing distance of Mexico. For fun he races tarantula wasps and watches the black helicopters dance along the horizon.