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Authors: Don Brown

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two bridges cross it, which you can see in this map and satellite photo. The bridges connect the eastern and western sectors of Istanbul.

"If we send our sub in on the surface, we're suspect number one when we sink that freighter, which I would remind you, sir, sails under a Russian flag. If the sub transits the Bosphorus submerged, and if we get caught, we run the risk of alienating the Turks. Mr. President, the water in that small bottleneck is shallow. The average depth is about two hundred feet. In some places, I've been told that the water depth is as shallow as a hundred and sixty feet. Plus I've also been told that this waterway is as narrow as fifteen hundred feet through the heart of the city.

"The currents are treacherous. Our sub runs the risk of colliding with commercial shipping or running into rocks. Over fifty thousand ships transit this waterway each year, sir. That's
fifty thousand
. The danger for a collision if we're underwater is grave. A submerged sub run ning through there would be practically on the bottom, with no room for navigational error.

"We run a grave risk getting the sub in, and then even a greater risk getting it out. What happens if our sub crashes on the rocks and we end up blocking one of the most important waterways in the world?

"Besides, if we sink this ship, the Turks -- and the Russians -- will be on high alert for the presence of foreign subs passing back through here. I would remind you, sir, that the Turks, with their huge Muslim population, are still furious with us over the Dome of the Rock attack. They could pull out of NATO over this."

Mack mulled that over. He looked at the secretary of defense, Erwin Lopez.

"Mr. President, " Secretary Lopez spoke. "Our sub commanders are the world's finest. Not even the Brits hold a candle to us anymore. Besides, we've developed a plan to get our submarine in undetected. Secretary Mauney neglected to mention that. We can get in, perform our mission, and get out. Just say the word."

"Gentlemen!" Mack pivoted around and slammed his hand on the presidential desk. "One at a time!" The president chopped his hand in the air. "Tell me this. Forget about the missing plutonium for a moment. How solid is our intelligence that this ship was linked to the Council of Ishmael?"

"Rock solid, Mr. President, " Lopez declared. "When the French lawyer L'Enfant was kidnapped, we're certain she was held on the
Alexander
Popovich.
In her briefing to us after our SEAL team rescued her, she talks about being hauled onto a ship, and passing through some sort of international canal which passed through the middle of a city, which we now believe was the Bosphorus.

"They sedated L'Enfant with drugs in one of the lower spaces for most of the voyage, sir. Then they crated her up in a wooden box and slung it through the air, in what we now know was a cargo crane in the Russian port city of Sochi. We have witnesses, Russians in fact, who saw the crate lowered from the ship, Mr. President, and saw them drive off.

"The ship that we're targeting is the Russian freighter
Alexander
Popovich
, home-ported in Sochi, Russia, on the eastern coast of the Black Sea. Here's a photo of it." Lopez had an aide place a large black-and-white photo of a long, black ship on another easel. "I remind you, Mr. President, that this ship and its captain have made themselves available for hire as instruments of radical Islamic terrorists."

Mauney spoke up. "So we don't know for a fact that L'Enfant was on board, is that right?"

Winstead said, "L'Enfant described being loaded off a ship in a wooden crate."

"That's still too circumstantial, " Mauney said. "Anything could've been in that crate we observed. Eggs. Tools. Anything. Nobody actually saw L'Enfant. All the more reason to hold off on all this. We just don't have enough information."

"Yes, we do, " Lopez shot back. "The money trail condemns this captain, sir. We've now gone back and shown payments to this captain coinciding with the L'Enfant kidnapping, and now again, just as this plutonium is disappearing, millions show up in his account. Tell me this is coincidental. These people are enemies of the United States and enemies of the West. Now they've onloaded materials needed to make a nuclear bomb. The secretary of state knows this."

"Gentlemen!" Mack held his palm out like a traffic cop. "So, where is this ship headed, Mr. Director?" the president asked.

"We think Sevastopol, on the Crimean peninsula in Ukraine. Possibly Odessa. From there, who knows?"

"Please, Mr. President, " Mauney interjected, pleading with his hands, "if we must attack, and this is only if we
absolutely
must, why not wait until the freighter is out in the open sea?"

"But the Black Sea
is
the open sea, " Lopez interjected.

"No, I mean the Mediterranean, or better yet, the Atlantic, " Mauney said. "Why sneak one of our subs into what the Russians have considered
their
territory through the Bosphorus? This is the narrowest and most dangerous bottleneck in the world for a sub to pass through. Trying something like this is unheard of. Why not just have one of our subs tail it into the open ocean? That way it becomes difficult for the rest of the world to pin this on us."

Lopez stood, holding his palms upward. "It's much harder to track in the open ocean. Keeping track of freighters with ties to terrorist activities has become increasingly difficult. The ocean is a big space, and if this ship gets out on the high seas with nuclear materials on board, we could lose track of her. And if we lose track of her, and she gets this fuel into the wrong hands, then the blood of the victims is not on my hands!"

Lopez stopped, perhaps realizing how loud his voice had gotten. The secretary spoke again, this time in lower tones. "Look, Mr. President, timing is crucial here. We've vowed to hunt down terrorists expeditiously and anywhere in the world. This rogue Russian skipper and his crew were coconspirators with the Council of Ishmael, and they've proven ready to attack Western interests for hire. This guy may not even be skipper of this ship months from now,
if
we get a shot at his ship anywhere other than the Black Sea. Timing is crucial to the national interest here, sir."

"Timing?" Mauney threw his hands in the air. "The American public doesn't even know that this freighter was used to aid and abet terrorism. What's the point?"

"The point, Mr. Secretary, " Lopez retorted, "is that the
terrorists
know full well that it was used. They've paid him again for something. This time for something that could lead to the destruction of an entire American city. And our message must go straight to them, like a clenched fist smashed straight in their mouths."

"Gentlemen!" the president snapped. "I appreciate your passion, but this isn't the back bench of the British parliament." Mack turned to the secretary of defense. "Mr. Secretary, does the Navy have a plan to sneak this sub through the Bosphorus undetected?"

Lopez looked around the room, exchanging sly grins and nods with the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. "We do have a plan, Mr. President. We call it
Operation Undercover
."

"Interesting code name, " the president mused. "So how does it work?"

"Let me put it this way, Mr. President. The terrorists aren't the only ones who can play games with seagoing freighters."

"Explain, Mr. Secretary."

"With pleasure, sir." The secretary stood and motioned for two naval officers, both lieutenant commanders, to approach with an over sized attache case.

"Mr. President, my friend the secretary of state is right about one thing. Getting a submarine through the Bosphorus is a challenge. Part of the problem is the shallow depth. With an average depth of a hundred-sixty feet, if our sub goes in too deep, she risks grounding or colliding with rocks along the bottom. If she comes up to periscope depth, she risks being spotted from the air.

"Mr. President, here's a photo of one of our
Los Angeles
- class boats, the USS
Chicago
at periscope depth just off the coast of Malaysia. In this photo
Chicago
is under sixty feet of water, yet in the daytime, she's clearly visible from any aircraft passing over, and there are hundreds of aircraft over Istanbul.

"Our challenge, clearly, is finding a way to block the sub from view from the air. We took the problem to Newport News Shipbuilding. They mulled it over, and the solution they came up with is this. Commander?"

The lieutenant commander assisting the secretary of defense removed the photo of the
Chicago
and replaced it with a schematic diagram that looked like a blueprint.

"This, " Secretary Lopez said, "is the blueprint for
Operation Undercover
, which is the code name for the portion of the mission to get our sub in the Black Sea.

"As you know, Mr. President, " Secretary Lopez began, "six months ago you authorized the Defense Department to come up with a plan for submarine infiltration of the Bosphorus and other strategic waterways to deal with rogue freighters like the
Alexander Popovich
and for other strategic reasons."

The president nodded his head.

"We've carried out your orders, sir. And the concept here, " the secretary said, pointing at the diagram, "is brilliant. Under this plan, which we have been working on for months, naval engineers cut a watertight compartment in the bottom of an existing freighter.

"Ladies and gentlemen, this has already been accomplished. Naval engineers at Newport News cut a compartment into the lower hull of the Russian freighter
Volga River
, which has been in port at Norfolk."

"What happened to her crew?" the vice president asked.

"Let's just say that her crew is enjoying an unexpected but extended visit to the United States."

"I don't even want to hear it, " the president said.

That comment brought chuckles from the group.

"Anyway, " the secretary of defense continued, "the ship is being manned by a U.S. Navy crew, posing as civilians. They all speak Russian. The
Volga River
is now in the Mediterranean, awaiting orders to rendezvous with the U.S. submarine.

"A
Los Angeles
- class submarine, the USS
Honolulu
, manned by a volunteer crew of submarine veterans, is on standby in La Maddalena, Italy, awaiting your orders, Mr. President. That crew understands that if they are called upon to carry out this mission, they may never return."

Silence again, except for the grandfather clock ticking and tocking. The secretaries of state and defense seemed to have run out of gas. All eyes returned to the president.

"Okay, here's what I'm ordering, " the president declared. "Deploy the
Honolulu
out of La Maddalena. Send her out to the rendezvous point to link up with the
Volga River.
I've not made a final decision on this attack. Not yet anyway. But I want our sub ready to go if and when I give the order."

"Yes, sir, Mr. President."

"We are adjourned."

CHAPTER 6

United States Nuclear Submarine Base
La Maddalena, Italy

3 p.m. local time

The Alfa Romeo coupe jolted along the narrow cobblestone streets, headed to the main gate of the U.S. submarine base.

From the passenger's seat of the sports car, Commander Pete Miranda took in the vibrant colors of the picturesque Mediterranean-style buildings in the center of town. A few minutes later, the car cleared the last small building, opening a spacious view of the blue waters of the Straits of Bonifacio. Sparkling wavelets glistened in the afternoon sun, creating the illusion of a crystal-blue carpet separating the Italian island of La Maddalena from the French island of Corsica, just a few miles to the north.

The pristine beauty of the sight masked the reality that these were some of the rockiest and thus most dangerous waters anywhere in the world for navigating a submarine in close quarters around a sub base.

La Maddalena had been home to a small U.S. nuclear submarine base since 1973. Pete had grown to love this, his favorite Mediterranean port-of-call. Unfortunately, the Sardinians and the Greenpeace activists had carped about the presence of U.S. nuclear boats at La Maddalena ever since USS
Hartford
scraped bottom and ran aground in 2003.

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