The Marshal Plan

itting in first class, we were enjoying ourselves on a flight from New York to Los Angeles. The flight attendant was beginning to make his rounds to see if we wanted anything to drink. Suddenly, from behind the galley, a man armed with a pistol jumped into the aisle.

"I have a gun," he yelled frantically. "This is a hijacking."

Within a matter of seconds, shots were fired from the row immediately behind me. Bullets whizzed past my ear. The hijacker went down. Two armed men leapt into the aisle and walked backwards to the front of the cabin. Scanning the rows, they quickly identified themselves as air marshals. With the cabin secure, an air marshal called the cockpit to tell the pilot about everything that happened.

The mission was a success. The terrorist had three bullet marks in the center of his chest.

The men sitting with me on the plane, which actually was parked on a runway at the William J. Hughes Technical Center in Atlantic City, N.J., were air marshals in training. The simulation was one of the final steps in their program.

"It's been constant work," says Mitch Levin, senior instructor at the center. "We work long days without a lot of time off. We have to put in the time though. We won't get any second chances in the air."

While the marshals have been around for decades, they've taken on a much greater role since Sept. 11. The ranks have grown significantly since the program was shifted to the Transportation Security Administration. Agency officials won't talk about exact numbers, but 190,000 people applied to become air marshals between November and July. A Government Executive analysis of government and union data this spring showed that at least 1,437 federal law enforcement agents had left their jobs to join TSA, some as air marshals, others to take management jobs. TSA will not disclose the total number of air marshals.

The training starts with eight hours on an outdoor shooting range. Candidates fire 50 yards and 25 yards away from their targets. They shoot 60 rounds from a pistol, getting off an average of three rounds in seven seconds. To pass, they must score 255 points out of a possible 300. Scores vary depending on where the target is hit. It's the most demanding standard among federal law enforcement agencies, most of which require a score of 210.

From the shooting range, candidates move to a simulated aircraft. Pretending to be passengers, the candidates sit as silhouettes pop up from behind a makeshift galley and come down the aisle on a pulley system. Using live bullets, the would-be marshals fire, typically aiming for the chest because it is the largest, and therefore easiest, area to hit. "Using real bullets increases the stress level," Levin says. "We want to increase that level as much as possible." The candidates are taught to keep their arms in tight and hold the gun as close to their chest as possible. The purpose is twofold: to be able to maneuver in a small area and to give terrorists little opportunity to wrestle a gun away.

The final test comes aboard a real Boeing 747 airliner donated to the agency by Delta Airlines. On board, candidates run through every possible scenario-from subduing drunk and belligerent passengers to defusing explosive devices. During some scenarios, nothing happens for two hours. Marshals never know what will happen. They could be on a quick shuttle flight from Washington to New York, or be flying coast to coast. In either case, they must blend in with other passengers, yet be alert and ready to act at a moment's notice. "We do a lot of things to try and draw them out and identify themselves early," says Greg McLaughlin, deputy director of the Federal Air Marshal Service. "That is the biggest mistake most of them make. We want them to be a secret for as long as possible."