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“Sir the port boat’s coming to south. Active ping Sir, active ping one kilometre ahead pinging to the south.” We’re well to his east thought Nathan, as long as they didn’t ping closer in.

“Sir starboard boat is ascending. Now at periscope depth. The two Iranian boats continued their slow progress towards them.

“Sir, We have two Mk48 CBASS loaded, tubes one and two. Harpoon in tube three,” said the Weapons officer.

‘Thanks Weaps.”

“Sir, sounds consistent with an ascent from the port boat, she’s coming up.” There was a long pause. “She’s now at periscope depth. Wait one, wait one. Starboard boat is trimming for depth, she’s diving.” Nathan knew what they were doing it was a reconnaissance patrol, one up, one down. They’d alternate as they made they’re way down the channel.

“Sir, active pulse from the deeper boat. He’s facing north, he won’t have picked us up.”

“Benson, what’s the range to the upper boat?”

“Five hundred yards Sir.” It’d be close, Nathan knew.

“Sir port boat is trimming for diving.” The control room waited. He could put some revs on and move to the west. He decided to stay, opting for silence. “He’s now at two hundred and fifty feet. Active ping toward the west.” Nathan drew breath the ping had been away from them. The two Iranian boats would soon be level with them. The danger was passing. He knew the two Ghadir boats were no match for USS Stonewall Jackson. But in here, in the confines of the channel. It was a much more even scenario.

“Come to three four zero degrees, speed five knots.”

“Three four at five, Aye Sir,” said the planesman.

* * *

ANUPA AND INNES PREPARED for the dive.

“Ok, Anupa let’s go through it one last time,” said the boat’s diver, CPO Innes.

“Go on.”

“We inflate this buoyancy bag to half, it’ll lift the sled out of the lock. I’ll adjust the buoyancy after we leave. Clip yourself onto the sled here.” He indicated a stainless lug.

“We’ll stay at fifteen feet until we make contact with the shore. Then detach the clip and we play it by ear, depending on where we came ashore. Stow your diving gear and suit in this bag and I’ll take it back. OK?”

“Yep, I’m OK with the rebreather.” They sat and waited. Anupa knew she was in for a different world now. Iran. It’d be a far different place now; she’d become accustomed to the boat and her routine. It had become a home from home in a way. Now it was, who knew what?

“Diving party ready,” shouted the COB from the control room. She put on the re-breather helped by Innes, she helped him in return. They climbed up into the sail and sealed the hatch. Water flooded into the chamber, a red light came on. The chamber was now full, Innes opened the upper hatch and let the sled out into the black water above. Anupa followed. She clipped on. Innes checked his compass and switched on the sled. The pair of them were pulled along through the dark void. Anupa checked her dive computer for the depth and stabilized her buoyancy. Her world was black water and the backlight from the computer. Innes handled his buoyancy and the direction. After five or six minutes they came to a muddy slope, Innes slowed and the pair of them finned up the slope. When it became shallow enough she stood. She looked out at the shore; there were bushes around four yards away along the shoreline. Anupa unclipped and walked up the slope, there was no one around. She removed the rebreather, mask and fins, then took off her dry suit. Anupa wore a jacket and trousers underneath. She passed her gear to Innes who placed it in the bag. Standing in a foot depth of water, her trousers and shoes were wet but would dry as she walked.

“Ok Anupa, good luck out there, I hope we’ll meet again.”

“Thanks CPO Innes.” He sank and soon disappeared under a few eddies and ripples. Anupa turned.

Here she was; Iran.

What the hell would she find here? She walked up the slope in trepidation, this was a different realm. This was the Middle East.

Chapter 6

The Straits of Hormuz.

“SHE’S ASHORE SIR, I’VE brought her diving equipment back. It was a successful infil,” said Innes.

“Good, well done, now we wait for her,” Captain Blake walked back to the control room. He walked to his control station and typed in a message.

“Lieutenant Commander Lemineux, stream the communications buoy and transmit this message. Then retract the buoy.”

PRIORITY RED

R 271345Z JUL 86 ZY10

STONEWALL JACKSON

CIA-OPS// ID C796TF722//

TO CIA OPS LANGLEY//N18//

NAVAL INTEL OPS/04

MSGID/STONEWALL JACKSON 479/ ACTUAL//

MSG BEGINS://

THE JAGUAR IS FREE.

MSG END//

Commander Lemineux typed in a few codes then waited. He turned to the Captain.

“Sir, message transmitted and acknowledged, the buoy is retracted.”

“Come about, head east southeast, speed eight knots. Kaminski set a course for Muscat. Oman. We’ll take up a position, thirty miles or so southeast of there, ten miles off the coast. It’s up to Anupa now, we’ll stay close by and provide help if we can.” God help her, he thought.

BANDAR ABBAS.

SHE’D FOUND A RESTING place at the rear of a Relator’s. She waited until the sun had arisen and the day’s activities had begun. Cars and trucks drove by, a few people passed by on foot. Anupa donned her headdress and walked out on to the road. She headed east on highway 94 towards the rising sun and the city center. As expected she soon managed to flag down a passing truck, the driver dropped her in the city itself. She walked for a while along Pasdaran Boulevard then turned right into a side street. It was similar to many districts in a middle eastern country. Shops sold bread, cakes and sweets. Vehicle parts, domestic electrical goods. Women wore headdresses, cars and delivery trucks rolled by. As the road turned to the left. She saw it. Eastern Horse Café. Anupa walked in ordered bread and fruit, coffee and sweet cake. She sat on the left, as she sipped her second cup of coffee he arrived.

“Hello, my dear, how are you?”

It was Josh, the Israeli intelligence agent she knew from Riyadh.

“Fine. How are you in the land of the foe?”

“It’s not a bad place, it’s surprising what you can get here if you know where to look.”

She saw him looking at the young girl at the counter.

“How are the women?”

“Better than you’d think. Why, would you like me to get one for you?”

Anupa shook her head. “No, I’ll pass on that one.” He placed a rough sacking bag on the table.

“All that you need is in there. Your name is Paniz, you’ve lived in England but have now returned. Several are you know.” He handed her several sheets of paper, here are the important facts. Memorise them and then destroy them.” He handed her a cell phone.

“There are several contacts in there but Dareh is the only real one, it’s me. You’ll be flown to Tehran to meet your client. Take a look at him.” She looked at the sheets. There was a middle-aged man with glasses and a short beard, he wore a suit without a tie in the local style.

Haabeel Salri. A lawyer it seemed.

“He handles finance for the regime. Very large amounts, very quietly and is paid a generous commission for his efforts. We’ll see that you’ll meet him. Look at your identity.” She looked and frowned at Josh in surprise.

“RAW? What does RAW want with him?”

“Read the rest. Not here. Read them in your hotel in Tehran and then burn them. You’ll be flown to Tehran today, then you’ll have one day to prepare, get the lye of the land and get your clothes. High class hookers don’t dress the way you are. When you get to your room there will be more equipment,” he smiled, “under the mattress. I’ll be in the city too, but we won’t meet unless we must. Call me if that becomes necessary or you need any help.” Josh stood.