Colonel Tonroe had listened to the usual bitching about supplies, but Marines wouldn’t be Marines unless they bitched about supplies.
Tonroe had once taken a hammering, when as a Captain he’d said he had plenty of stores and ammunition. The half Colonel had taken him to one side.
“Captain. Don’t you ever tell a senior Officer you have enough.” He moved in and stood his face a couple of inches from his Tonroe’s now. “An Officer in the Corp never has enough. The more shit you have, the more shit you can hammer the fucking rag heads with.” He lowered his voice. “Do you have enough shit, Captain?”
“No sir! My supplies are woeful, send me more shit or I’ll send you more body bags sir.”
“That’s better, Captain. I’ll see what I can do.”
He stood before the Major in charge of the battery at Sariyer.
“We need all we can get sir, but the 155mm round is king. The more we have? Well sir, if Ivan comes anywhere near this man’s Corp he’ll want 155mm on him. Ivan loves 155mm.”
“That’s the way Major. I’ll see what I can do.”
Colonel Tonroe’s helicopter landed close to the position of a forward infantry position. The ridge looked out over the bridge.
The Lieutenant in command ran up and saluted.
“Sir 3 and 4 platoons. 3RD battalion, 6th Marine.”
“What are you packing LT?”
“Sir, thirty whoop ass Marines with M16’s sir.”
Tonroe smiled. “And what’s that?” he asked, pointing at a TOW wire guided anti-tank missile launcher.
“BGM 71C anti-tank. If they come with a tin we’ll broil it for ‘em.”
Tonroe looked out over the bridge and its approaches. “You have a good position here LT. You have a fallback?”
“Yes sir, back on that edge line over there.”
“Anything you need?”
“Sir, more TOW tubes, all you can spare. Full Magazines of 5.56mm. You fill ‘em, we’ll empty ‘em. And chow sir, the men are getting hungry. Some locals are coming out here and feeding us. It helps sir.”
A shout came from the ridgeline. “Bring us some Turkish pussy sir.”
Tonroe grinned and shouted back. “This isn’t Camp Pendleton. But we do have some Russian pussies on their way. You’ll have to chew on that.”
“Sorry Colonel.”
“That’s ok LT. I’ll leave this place with you. Keep hold of it.”
“Sir.”
The Colonel knew if the VDV came for a look here, they’d take a hammering.
TONROE CLIMBED INTO the helicopter.
“Istanbul. Take me to Hasdal, south of the E80 highway.”
“Sir.”
The helicopter spooled up, climbed and pulled away to the south. It flew over the vast sprawling city and landed in a barracks square. The Colonel dismounted and headed to the building about fifty yards away.
Two Turkish soldiers saluted him. He walked inside.
Two female Non-Coms, both armed to the teeth with pistols and HK33E assault rifles, stopped him. Both checked out his pass and looked at the contents of his pockets. They looked tough and both wore cam cream. He couldn’t help but notice that they were about the same age as his son, and dressed differently they’d get plenty of male attention in a North Carolina bar. They scrutinised the pictures of his wife and son and read the messages on the back.
“Ok sir, this way.” They led him into a side room, and stood looking at a chart was a General officer with a Brigadier.
He saluted. “Sir, Colonel Tonroe. 24th Marine MEU.”
“Hello Colonel, welcome to Istanbul. General Hayri Kivrikoglu, 3 Corp. How are you in the north?”
“Sir, we have Yavuz Sultan Selim bridge covered. We’ll hold it for you.”
General Kivirikoglu nodded. “We can back you up with a Rapid Deployment battalion from Sisli. If you need more then call on the 32rd and 47th Motorised Infantry. They’ll deploy from Hasdal. I’m keeping the 47th back if possible, to hold the E80 highway. If the VDV come in via Ataturk Airport they’ll use the E80 to get to the Bosporus. See Major Kiliu for communications details.”
“Thank you Sir. We’ll hold the north if Ivan tries it on.”
The Turkish General smiled at him. “He will try it on, he wants to play with his ships in the big sea.”
General Kivrikoglu watched the American Marine as he left. This may be the biggest city in Turkey, but he knew this attack was unexpected and had come quick. He’d need all he could to protect the Bosporus. The US Marines were in a likely landing zone, they’d have a fight on their hands, and it wouldn’t be easy.
Chapter 10
NATHAN STOOD AT THE Conn; it was hard to believe he had the Conn. Franks and the XO were stood by watching. He’d better not screw up.
“Sir, faint contact, too far to fix an ID yet, they’re to our west,” said Nosey.
“Planesman, bearing two six zero.”
“Two six zero aye sir.”
He headed to their south, that’d be their likely course.
“Weaps, stream the lure fish.”
His Assistant Weapons Officer, Lieutenant Commander Lily Cohen, stood in for him.
“Lure fish streamed sir.”
The lure streamed by reel far out into the submarine’s wake and trailed behind it; by doing this he was attempting to detect the faint contacts. The lure communicated by cable and its signals were processed by a sophisticated computer designed by L-3 Chesapeake Sciences Corp with input by Lockheed Martin. The TB29/A1 lure was also built by these wizards of underwater deception. On the USS NYC, it streamed from the core of the boat’s stern. It listened, detected and deceived any weapons tracking the boat. Lures were at the forefront of submarine technology.
In this case, the lure listened to and analysed the faint noises from possible contacts.
“Nosey, let me know if you need an aspect change.” By making a track at ninety degrees to the target, it was sometimes possible to refine the search.
Nathan let Nosey and the lure do their thing.
“Sonar. Subsurface contacts, four Akula class boats heading south. Range eight to eleven miles sir. Bearing two seven zero, speed 22 knots.”
Akula class, Nathan knew they didn’t come much worse. It was the enemy’s most dangerous boat.
“Weaps, warshot status?”
“All tubes Mk 48 sir.”
“Get a firing solution on all boats.”
She spent a couple of minutes on her console. “Tangos one to four allocated. All fish are locked and loaded.”
“Range?”
“Sir, range five to eight miles.”
Nathan looked questioningly to Captain Franks. His rules of engagement permitted a launch, but he looked for reassurance.
Franks nodded.
“Launch tubes one to four,” ordered Nathan. There was a rushing sound up forward.
“Fish away. They’re passive tracking,” said Lily, “the fish are hungry for Tango one to four.” The Mk 48 CBASS was steered by the cable trailing back into the tube.
All four fish headed off to the west.
“First two fish top down, second two go for a belly shot, Lily,” said Nathan. “Go for an alternate top, down spread attack.” He dictated the attack vectors.
“Aye sir.”
He’d asked her to run in the first fish top down, the second from the belly; fish three and four likewise.
The American fish sped in fast.
“Sir, we have two enemy fish in the water,” said Nosey, “Tango two got her fish away.”