5:03 A.m.
They had used the same insertion procedure off Beirut three years
earlier, so there was nothing about this that was new. Standard
procedure. As had been planned all along, they donned scuba gear at
five hundred meters out, packed their equipment in waterproof bags, and
entered the churning water. After the raft was punctured, obliterating
all evidence, the seven men of ARM set out, underwater, for the rugged
shoreline of Andikythera.
Their scuba gear was invisible against the dark sea as, one by one,
they emerged through the breakers and into the last remnants of rain
from the storm. They faced a short ledge of surf-pounded rocks
immediately abutted by a sheer granite cliff--exactly what they
expected, indeed what they wanted.
They were greeted by silence from up above, which gave lope that the
insertion had gone undetected. So far. They were in, with the only
problem being they no longer had Vance to serve as point man. They
would be proceeding blind.
But not too blind. Back in Athens they had studied the schematics of
the facility carefully and had concluded the most vulnerable insertion
point would be Launch Control. Added to that, Ramirez was last reported
to be there, and the objective was to take him out as quickly and
efficiently as possible. That also was the place where they believed
they could shut down the operation quickest and get their hands on the
weapons. Everything came together: hit Launch.
They had discussed renewing radio contact with the woman named Andros,
in hopes she might be able to give them an update on the disposition of
the hostiles and friendlies. But they decided to wait and see first if
they could handle it alone. Radio security was nonexistent, as they had
already discovered. For now, the downside of breaking radio silence
outweighed the upside. Later, perhaps, when it no longer mattered.
After he had pulled off his scuba gear, Armont took out his IR scope
and surveyed the top of the cliff and the coastline. Both looked clear.
"All right, it's going to be light soon," he whispered. "Let's get up
there and get to work."
Dimitri Spiros nodded, then began donning an old SatCom uniform he had
brought, left over from his days on the island, hoping to pass himself
off as a company staffer if need be and get in position to act as point
man--since Vance was not part of the picture now. Spiros would guide the
unit in, using a secure radio to coordinate the overall operation with
Pierre, and with Reggie, who would be standoff sniper.
By the time Dimitri was finished, they were ready. Marcel tossed a
grapple up the side of the steep cliff and it lodged somewhere near the
top. Next Spiros tested the line, then started making his way up,
inserting silent spikes into the crevasses as he climbed. The granite
was firm, with enough irregularities to hold onto. When he reached the
top and signaled the all-clear, the others immediately followed, with
Hans bringing up the rear after he had secured the gear with ropes,
ready to hoist.
As the last black satchel topped the cliff, they went to work, breaking
out the hardware they would need. The light of dawn had opened just
enough for everybody to see what they were doing, yet remain little
more than shadows in the early mist. Or was it fog? The dark made it
hard to tell, but it was a magic moment that would not last long.
Since Reggie was the standoff sniper, he normally would have begun
installing his IR scope, but now, with dawn so near, the need for IR
capability was problematical. Not being seen was as great a concern as
seeing.
Just ahead, barely visible, was the Rota-Barb fence. Since Spiros had
installed it, he strode ahead and did the honors, cutting the razor
wire quickly and efficiently. With daylight approaching, there was no
time for niceties such as scaling; they would just have to take the
chance that the security system was no longer operative.
They carried the equipment through, then scouted the approach. Up the
rocky hill they could see two silver spires, now illuminated with
spotlights. After a few moments of thoughtful silence, Reggie Hall
nodded and pointed toward an outcropping of rocks located near the
north entrance to Launch Control, indicating with hand signs that they
would provide the best location for overall surveillance. He would set
up there, a look-down spot from where he could handle the standoff-
sniper chores, ready at any time to neutralize any hostiles who might
emerge from Launch. It also was a good spot from which to monitor
hostile radio traffic.
Having done this many times before, they were ready. Armont and Hans,
together with the brothers Voorst, would lead the assault, while Marcel
would be at the rear of the entry element, serving as defense man,
covering for them and providing security. As point man, Spiros would
supply backup for Marcel if things got hot or if somebody tried to
ambush the entry team during approach and entry, or during withdrawal.
The Greek would also be in charge of directing any pyrotechnics.
In addition to acting as commander, Armont would assume his usual role
as security man, providing covering fire for the entry element during
the assault and more close cover during withdrawal. He also would be in
charge of any other equipment they might need.
Since the assignments reflected ARM's standard configuration, with
everybody in their usual slot, there was no need to squander time
reviewing who would be where. . . .
In moments they were ready, silencers attached, poised to move through
the dark, early morning haze. It was providing a small semblance of
cover, but not for long. They hoped they could take Launch Control fast
enough that there would be no time for the terrorists to use hostages
as human shields. If that happened, there was sure to be bloodshed.
Just to be on the safe side, Armont did a quick run-through of the
assault with hand signals. He was just finishing when Reggie Hall's
radio came alive in a burst of static.
"Sirene, please come in." It was a woman's voice. "Do you read?"
"Blast," he whispered, his face rapidly turning florid in the dim mist.
"Didn't we tell her radio silence was essential?" He quickly switched
on the microphone. "Ulysses One, get off this channel. Sirene is here."
"Thank God. But you've got to try and find Mike. Isaac went to look for
him, but he hasn't come back."
"You mean Mannheim?" Armont took the microphone. "Where did he go?"
"He said he was going to try the empty loading bays down at Launch,"
she said. "He hasn't come back, so maybe he found him. Could you try
there?"
Reggie turned to Armont with a questioning look that needed no words.
It was, simply, What do we do now?
On this one, Armont had no better idea than anyone else. They all knew
where the loading bays were, since the blueprints had made that plain
enough. The problem was the sequence. Should they go ahead with the
assault as planned, to take the time to try to find him and pull him
out? Her intel on his location was just a guess, but it was a start.
ARM's rules always had been that their own people came first. So if
they knew where Vance might possibly be, nothing else mattered.
According to the rules, they had to drop everything and try to pull him
out. Even if it jeopardized the operation. Those were the rules. No
exceptions.