Finally, the two far right-hand cells filled with air and I began a controlled descent, spiraling in lazy circles as I hung in the harness sweating, and tried to figure out where the hell I was.
(Chapter 1, p. 6)

We'd practice each risky element—shooting, jumping, parasailing, clandestine infiltration, hostage snatch, and extraction—separately. But, we'd never put all of them together before.
(Chapter 2, p. 30)

So the prospect of "Demolition Dick, Tough-Guy Shark Man of the Navy" was a lot more satisfying than "Fingers Marcinko, Pencil-Pushing Teletype Operator."
(Chapter 3, p. 39)

They became even more maneuverable after we'd cut a new design of holes in the chute and added extra toggle lines so we could actually steer ourselves in the air.
(Chapter 4, p. 53)

The first time I canceled my crew's shore leave because there was work still to be done on the boilers was one of the toughest...