Mike Assad looked at his buddies. "It's a hell of a lot more than that, guys."
"Right," Brannigan said. "Petty Officer Assad has brought back intelligence that reveals this is no less than the supreme headquarters of al-Mimkhalif. He has given us enough information to get in and out of the place with the least amount of fuss and bother. Therefore, we are able to draw up a rock-solid OPORD. Everything fits so well that we're not going to bother with a preliminary OPLAN. The infiltration and exfiltration phases are the responsibility of Commander Carey. I'll let him explain those parts of the action before we get into the execution portion of the evening's activities."
Commander Carey stepped up to the podium. "It will be a parachute infiltration with T-10s by the raiding party. They will go into the AO in a V-22 Osprey we're borrowing from the nearby carrier battle group."
"Sir" Senior Chief Dawkins said, "who of us is going to be in the raider party?"
'The First Assault Section and Fire Team Charlie along with the Second Assault Section's SAW gunner," Carey replied.
The senior chief glowered. "Does that include me?"
"Negative, Chief," Carey answered. "You will be acting as Lieutenant Rivers' Two-I-C aboard the Battlecraft."
"Aye, sir," Dawkins growled in acute disappointment.
"Now," Carey said, "back to the raider party. Petty Officer Frank Gomez will be going in with Lieutenant Brannigan as the RTO. We've acquired an excellent AN/PRC-148 radio with handset so the raider party will have commo with both the Dan Daly and the Battlecraft. It's been decided to pull Petty Officer Leibowitz from Bravo Fire Team and put him with Petty Officer Assad. They will be the raider party recon."
"Ah!" Chad Murchison said. 'The Odd Couple sallies forth yet again."
Doc Bradley stood up. "Sir! Where do I fit into the picture?"
"You'll be with Lieutenant Rivers and the two crewmen of the ACV along with Fire Team Delta on the ACV," Carey answered. "You people will handle the exfiltration. I'll get to that later." He went to the wall, where two large sheets of paper were pinned up. He pulled one down, revealing a satellite photo of the operational area. "Your drop zone will be five kilometers to the west of the fortress. Here. The raiding party will then move to the target area, sneak over the wall, and go to the officers' compound to search out and capture the 'persons of interest' as the cops back home say. Petty Officer Assad knows the place like the back of his hand and will be in the forefront with his buddy Leibowitz."
Bruno Puglisi grinned. "Hey, Mike. Don't forget to take us to that harem you told us about."
"Knock it off!" Senior Chief Dawkins roared.
Commander Carey chuckled. "Do not--I say again--do not exit the target area with any female captives. This is not authorized."
A collective groan went up among the assembled SEALs.
"All right," Carey said. "Once you have those persons of interest in hand, you will proceed to the docking area, where the ACV will appear. This is going to be the hairiest part of the whole evening, gentlemen. The Battlecraft is a beautiful vessel, but she's louder than a grizzly bear with a toothache. Although you're going to be heavily outnumbered, you'll have both surprise and the total unpreparedness of the garrison working in your favor. Be fast, be efficient, and be at the right place at the right time. When you're aboard the Battlecraft, you'll be able to haul ass at ninety per."
"What are the times of all these different phases, sir?" Chief Matt Gunnarson asked.
'That's going to be worked out later," Carey answered. "In fact, it's something you guys are going to figure out together. And that includes the exact date of when this event goes down."
Brannigan took over. "Okay. Save any further questions for when we're brainstorming together to bring everything into focus. We've got a lot of work to do while Commander Carey is making his final coordination for transport and logistics. Assad has drawn a diagram of the interior of the officers' quarters of the fortress. We'll use that to work out a plan of action to get the main players."
Garth Redhawk raised his hand. "Is ever'body we're after in the same place?"
"Affirmative," Brannigan answered. He looked over at Dawkins. "Senior Chief! Take over and move the detachment down to the pilots' wardroom. We'll have more room to work up there."
"Aye, sir!" Dawkins responded. "All right, me hearties, you know where you're going. Get there!"
The SEALs got to their feet and filed out, their minds already filled with all the possibilities, probabilities, and potential catastrophes and/or glories of their immediate future.
.
INDIAN OCEAN
VICINITY OF 16deg NORTH AND 53deg EAST
2300 HOURS
THE waves were not too steep, but the small motorized skiff rocked on top of them enough to make the two men in it uncomfortable. They had to struggle to maintain their balance after the motor had been cut. Five sewn canvas bags lay in the forward sheets of the boat, and the men were anxious to be rid of them. The sooner the loads were in the sea, the sooner the little boat could be turned around to get the bouncy ride back to port over with.
One by one, they picked up the long weighted containers and rolled them over the gunwales into the water. Each sank immediately, slipping into the depths. When the final one hit the sea, the senior boatman went back to the motor and kicked it to life. He sat down and grabbed the tiller, aiming the bow back toward Fortress Mikhbayi.
.
Adlaida from Russia
Blanche from France
Lucia from Italy
Olga from Russia
Teresa from Portugal
.
Requiescant In Pace
Chapter 19.
USS DAN DALY
FLIGHT DECK
3 NOVEMBER
0100 HOURS LOCAL
THE fifteen men of the raider party were chuted up, going through a jumpmaster inspection by Senior Chief Buford Dawkins as part of the prejump routine. Although he wasn't going in with them, it had become a detachment custom for him to do all the parachute inspections prior to missions and training exercises. The gruff old salt worked in the light coming off the island on the starboard side of the deck as he went through canopy-release assemblies, quick-release boxes, reserve parachutes, static lines, webbing, and other parts of the proud and proven T-10 main parachutes and reserve parachutes the Brigands had strapped around themselves.
The men were going in lean and mean. Aside from the CAR-15s, ammo bandoliers, and the SAWs for Puglisi and Miskoski, they would be bringing only night-vision goggles, LASH radio headsets, one canteen each, first-aid kits, personal knives, and holstered Sig Sauer 9-millimeter pistols with one fifteen-round magazine loaded and inserted. There would be no hand grenades or other pyrotechnics. Some communal equipment made up of grappling hooks and nylon line for climbing walls was divided among the group. Frank Gomez had the AN/PRC-148 radio to lug around in addition to the other goodies. That way, if things went wrong, Frank could call in air support for what would be politely termed a strategic withdrawal. Lieutenant Bill Brannigan, pragmatic and outspoken as always, referred to it as hauling their butts out of deep shit. As it was, the skipper had received strict orders not to request air cover unless the situation had deteriorated to almost hopeless. Once again Brannigan recalled the dramatic line from "The Charge of the Light Brigade": Ours is but to do or die.
As the preparations continued, Lieutenant Veronica Rivers stood with Delta Fire Team watching the proceedings out on the deck. Her eyes were on Jim Cruiser, whose parachute had already been checked. He was next to Brannigan and the two fire team leaders, Chief Matt Gunnarson and Petty Officer Connie Concord, watching the senior chief as he attended to his tasks quickly and efficiently.