Straits of Power

someone on Commander McCollough’s staff.

Parker stood at the front of the compartment, next to the screen. His blase attitude showed that he was used to doing such presentations, and had no trouble addressing groups. Parker’s stance was erect and aloof; Felix thought he came across as a tight-ass, and a preppie.

Felix glanced at his men. All eight of them were attentive. This operation was highly compartmented, so they didn’t know much of whatever was coming. Like any SEAL about to be clued in on something dangerous but important, these guys were excited.

A map of Turkey popped onto the screen. The map zoomed in on the stretch of water between the Aegean Sea east of Greece, crowded with islands and shoals, through the narrow Dardanelles Strait, and into the wider bathtub-shaped Sea of Marmara.

The map also showed the bottleneck from the far side of the Marmara into the big dead end of the German- and Russian-controlled Black Sea. This bottleneck, less than half a mile wide in many places, was labeled “Bosporus Strait.” The city of Istanbul lined both banks. Bridges spanned the Bosporus, giving road access between the parts of the sprawling metropolis.

Right away the difficulties started piling up.

“This is where you’re going,” Parker stated to Felix, pointing to Istanbul. “Challenger will drop you off outside the Dardanelles. Your team with Mr. Salih and me goes the rest of the way, there and back, in the captured German minisub. One hundred fifty nautical miles each way. A long, slow trip. Call it fifteen hours in each direction at a cruising speed of ten knots to save fuel. Go faster for any reason, you get less mileage, we won’t make it back. And deep-draft merchant shipping will be a constant menace while the mini navigates. I will remain in the minisub while the rest of you go ashore.”

“Contingency plan?” Felix asked.

“Ohio’s minis will both be engaged in delivering Commander McCollough’s teams to Axis-occupied Greece. Covert recon and overt diversions. This is the first time the U.S. has entered the Med in such force since the start of the war. Every use must be made of the opportunity.”

“So no mini is available to come and meet ours and bail us out? If we run out of gas, we have to swim?”

“If you run out of gas, we have to improvise. So kindly don’t waste gas. Your passenger and cargo are too important.”

“Specifically? My men haven’t heard this yet.”

“I know. We’re going to extract a German defector.”

“Right, Peapod. How do we know we can trust the guy?”

“We can’t be positive of anything. Our National Command Authorities deem it worth taking the risk. Contact with Peapod has already been made by a third party, Aardvark, who now steps aside after telling his secretary to make some seemingly innocent phone calls that will later assist your efforts…. The extraction is set for next week, Friday night.”

“That’s not much time.”

“It’s a very tight schedule.”

“We’ll be violating Turkish neutrality,” Felix said.

“Does that bother you?”

“I’ve done this sort of thing before.”

“I know. And you know, get caught and you get interned for the duration of the war, if you’re lucky. If you’re not, you’ll be shot as spies. Either way you stick the U.S. with a major diplomatic incident. We want Turkey on our side, not neutral and not going Axis. Make a mess, Germany will make the most of it.”

“Understood.”

“A serious complication has arisen.”

Something always does. “Meaning… what?”

“The extraction won’t be as straightforward as we’d hoped. The problem is, we need not just the defector, but some special equipment he uses. Computer gear. That’s all Aardvark could confirm, with the Moscow-rules script we provided.”

Felix’s jaw set. Moscow rules meant the greatest possible spy-tradecraft care taken, when working on a deadly enemy’s most closely guarded ground. “And our friend can’t just walk out of the consulate with his software on a disk in his briefcase to meet us somewhere, or put a computer in some luggage and saunter out the door. ‘Bye, I’m going yachting this weekend.’ How heavy, bulky is the equipment? Do we know?”

“It’s man packable by a Kampfschwimmer team, we think, from what our contact was able to tell us. We do know that German battle swimmers are directly involved.”

“I’m liking this less and less.”

“The equipment will be at a safe house. The safe house will be used and guarded by the Kampfschwimmer, from what the defector implied. Mr. Salih will pick up the defector at the consulate when the time comes.”

“I speak fluent German and Turkish,” Salih said. “My job will be to say that Aardvark has been delayed outside the country on his business, and I’ve come instead to take Peapod partying.”

“It’s gonna be one hell of a party,” Felix said.

“Affirmative,” Parker responded. “The defector will undoubtedly be tailed by a security escort, to protect him and keep an eye on him. We don’t know if they suspect his loyalty. If they don’t now, they might by next Friday.”

“Terrific.”

“Your team will have to reach shore at Istanbul from the minisub without detection, and change into civilian clothes. Obtain transportation. Conceal your weapons and ammo as best you can about your persons or in rented or purloined vehicles. And watch out for Turkish police. They’re everywhere, they’re good, and some patrols go around in armored personnel carriers mounted with heavy machine cannon. Not squad cars.”

“Where’s the safe house?”

“We don’t know. The defector and Aardvark dared not discuss more than that it exists. Peapod will have to give you directions, with Salih as his handler until you all can bring the man back to me in the minisub, where I will immediately begin his debrief while we return to Challenger.”

Felix took a deep breath. “So we have to attack a safe house full of Kampfschwimmer, without damaging fancy computer gear, without getting killed by the Germans or by the Turkish police, and we don’t even know where this safe house is till we get there?”

“Correct. And without getting Peapod or Salih killed. They’ll need a rally point to hide in with their heads well down, then you collect them there on your way out.”

“And just for starters there’s the security tail of Germans whom we need to neutralize quickly and quietly, before they can call a warning or summon help and blow the whole deal?”

“Correct. That part isn’t new.”

“No. But with more direct action to follow it now, there’s a lot more pressure to this phase. And rather severe consequences if there’s any screwup.” To SEALs, direct action meant combat.

Parker nodded, deadpan.

He’s an awfully cold fish when he wants to be, Felix thought. “Do we know the architecture of the safe house building at least? Or the neighborhood it’s in?”

Parker shook his head. “Too dangerous to have been broached in any way by Aardvark with Peapod. You’ll have to choose your tactics on the spot.”

“So we use the time between now and next Friday to plan and rehearse a totally open-ended mission profile?”

“Yes. And while you plan, also take account of Russian and Israeli operatives in the immediate area, who are very interested in our man. Protecting him, or killing him.”

In front of Parker, Captain Fuller, Captain Parcelli, and Commander McCollough, Felix couldn’t let on how suicidal this whole thing had started to sound.

I’m sure that’s one reason they’re holding the meeting like this, with all the task-group senior officers present.

Felix sat there steely eyed, and his men implicitly understood that they should follow his example. Though they were naturally competitive, and welcomed very difficult assignments, this particular one seemed over the top.