War of

The period of unit preparation for a potential operation was drawing to a close. Now it was time for the test. After reporting their units' readiness, the commanders of the individual landing units learned that a drill and exercise would soon take place. Almost a full day had passed since then. No exercises had been conducted, and the commandos were simply allowed to rest. All the base's lawns were full of sleeping or playing commandos. A long basketball game was underway in the sports hall, and the sounds of joyful splashing could be heard from the swimming area next to the port. Amidst this, otherwise deliberate, relaxation, no one noticed the departure of two ships and the takeoff of several transport planes. Several hours later, when headquarters received information that all units intended to simulate the targets of attack were ready, the commander-in-chief issued an order to the unit's operations chief: Commander of the U.S. Navy SEAL Unit, Commander Reg Matino . Special Exercise Order No. 1. The enemy has captured a nearby island and its port. In the island's main town, they have taken hostages and demanded negotiations with our government. After unsuccessful attempts to reach an agreement, the President of the United States issued the order to rescue the hostages and the island from the enemy. I am ordering SEAL unit headquarters to develop and execute a plan to rescue the hostages and seize the island. Report progress to the unit commander. Attached are maps and intelligence materials that may be useful in carrying out the mission. Feverish work began at headquarters. Within hours, operational plans for individual assault units were developed and forwarded to their commanders. Simultaneously, an alert was issued throughout the unit. The entire unit was in a frenzy. Commandos were running from all directions to the barracks. Each of them had to change into their combat uniform and don full equipment. Then they had to go to the armory to collect their weapons and ammunition, all for training, of course. With all this, they reported to the assembly point at the agreed-upon location. Within half an hour, Greg's unit was assembled in the square in front of their barracks. "Okay, guys! We're starting a drill to test the unit's coordination," he greeted his subordinates. "Remember." You're to give it your all! " A battle cry answered him. "Now, to the point. The enemy has captured a nearby island and taken hostages in the city. This unit has been ordered to take control of the situation. Our unit, along with ten others, is to seize the port and then proceed to the city. We are to enter one of the office buildings where the hostages are being held, while the rest secure the area around the building. After finishing off the hostages, we are to withdraw with them to the port and evacuate the island. Any questions?" Silence answered him. His boys knew their boss always knew what he was doing. "Okay. Here's a list of the equipment we'll need: three HUMMERs with roof-mounted machine guns, an anti-tank launcher and a supply of missiles, two grenade launchers, three urban climbing kits, a battering ram, and a building-penetrating shield. That's what our command orders us to do. We'll take the rest at our discretion. I suggest we take a few cases of fragmentation and smoke grenades. Got it? Right? Let's go! See you in fifteen minutes!" The commandos headed for the unit's warehouses. Gregs didn't need to assign them equipment; they knew exactly who was going to take what. He followed them to get his own equipment. In addition to his favorite M-16 with a telescopic sight and flashlight, he took a 9mm pistol with a silencer and a few grenades. He stuffed the remaining pockets with spare magazines. Thus laden, he walked to the front of his unit's barracks. They were already waiting for him there. "Do we have everything?" he asked. A murmur of confirmation answered him. "What else did you bring?" "Brian and I each have a case of grenades, and we each have five smoke grenades. Alex also has a case of machine gun ammo," one of his men replied. "Do you think that's enough?" Gregs asked doubtfully. "It should be enough. Everyone has double ammo," he heard in response. "I guess so. Do you have silencers for playing around in the city? " "Sure. " "Okay. Let's hit the port! Everyone to the cars! " The port was bustling with traffic. More units were arriving from all parts of the base. The port crew directed them to the appropriate ships, but it quickly became crowded. After waiting in line for several minutes, Gregs's unit finally boarded the transport ship assigned to them. Once they were stationed, Gregs allowed his men to rest and went to find the captain. On the bridge, he learned that the plan had not changed and that they were launching as planned. After returning to his men, he began his briefing in one of the vehicles. "Guys, come here! We're starting the briefing." He waited a moment for everyone to gather and continued: "We'll start with a classic entry into the harbor on pontoons and take control of this part of the quay." With that, he pulled a plan from his map case and traced a circle on it with his finger. "After securing the harbor, the ships will enter and we'll unload the rest of the equipment. Then, along with the remaining four teams, we'll head into the city. While the rest of us, along with our machine guns, will watch our backs, we'll take over the building and extract the hostages. We're doing everything according to established procedures. No charging. Understood? " "Yes, sir!" a chorus of voices replied. "Okay. According to the plan, we're supposed to move to the pontoons in an hour. We'll meet at the cars in 45 minutes. Thank you, and have a nice cruise." The squad spread out across the deck. Everyone knew it was just a prelude to the final operation, but they took it seriously. Right on time, Gregs and his squad descended into two pontoons and, after skillfully pushing off from the ship's side, rowed toward the enemy harbor. Ten more squads and two amphibious craft were with them, ready to provide possible support. About a hundred meters from the breakwater, the amphibious craft cut their engines and stopped. The sound of their engines could have alerted the defenders. The pontoons silently entered the harbor and dispersed to their designated points. Gregs and his men were about two hundred meters from their quay. They reached it quite quickly. After radioing their readiness, they waited for the order to attack. After a few minutes, all commanders heard the voice of the operations director in their earphones: "Attention! Attention! All! On my signal, we begin the attack! Three... Two... One... Forward! Forward! Forward!" Gregs waved his hand, allowing his men to enter the quay. A moment later, two men were on top. "This is reconnaissance one. Clear! " "This is reconnaissance two. Clear!" they reported over the radio. Gregs pointed to the shore again, and one by one, the rest of the commandos climbed aloft. They left their pontoons tethered to the mooring posts. On the quay, Gregs quickly assessed the situation. Everything looked quite calm, almost too calm. Ahead of them stretched a strip of warehouses and harbor cranes. In the background, the main port square was visible. After a moment's hesitation, he issued further orders over the radio: "This is the commander. Alpha group is checking the warehouses to the left, and Bravo group to the right of us. When you reach the end, report. Machine guns cover in both directions. Snipers climb onto the cranes and watch us. Support fires only on my command. Execute!" Two columns separated from the unit and moved towards the buildings. A moment later, the snipers moved. The gunners set up their machine guns and froze at their sights. Gregs had his ear on all the frequencies assigned to his team, hearing the conversations of the groups at the warehouses and the cover. "This is sniper one. I'm in position. I can see the warehouses and about half of the harbor square. There's a three-man enemy patrol moving around the square. " "I understand, sniper one. Take them out only on my command. " "I understand." The second sniper had a longer distance to cover. But after a moment, he reported: "This is sniper two. I've arrived. I can see the end of the quay and the breakwater. There's a two-man patrol on the breakwater. " "I understand, sniper one. Take them out only on my signal. " "I understand." He ran a few steps to hide behind the support of the port crane. Now he had a view of the entire road in front of the warehouses. For a moment, he saw a patrol in the square, but after a moment, it moved away. On the other side, he saw only the base of the breakwater. Suddenly, a nervous voice spoke in his earpiece. "Sniper one. I think they've seen our boats! Yes. One, no... two of them are heading your way... " "Take them off!" Gregs interrupted sharply. The silence of the night was shattered by two dry cracks that continued to echo. Silence fell again in the harbor. But a moment later, more gunfire broke it. Gregs immediately switched his radio to transmit to the commanders of the other assault groups and reported: "This is building one on the right quay. We've been detected! My sniper has taken out two men from the main square. I repeat, we've been detected! " "This is the operations director! We're breaking the silence. From now on, shoot without orders at anyone carrying a weapon." Gregs confirmed the order and relayed the order to his men. A fierce firefight now erupted in the harbor. "Sniper two here. Two on the breakwater are history," the sniper reported cheekily. Suddenly, one of the machine guns fired. Looking toward the main square, Gregs saw a large group of armed men running toward him. He immediately raised his rifle to his eye and eliminated the group's leaders with single shots. He was firing blanks, but special laser systems mounted on the rifles and vests of both the commandos and the simulators calculated whether a hit had occurred. Anyone "hit" heard a sharp screech in their earpiece. Upon hearing such a sound, one must immediately fall. Those were the rules. After eliminating the attackers, he warned the groups searching the warehouses that they might encounter the enemy ahead. For a long moment, silence reigned in the harbor again. Five minutes later, the entire harbor shook with the roar. The amphibious vehicles in front of the harbor started their engines and began entering the harbor basin. A minute later, they passed the breakwater heads and headed for the center of the basin, sniffing everywhere with their twin machine guns. A voice from Gregs's earpiece cut through the constant whine of the engines: "This is Port One. We've taken the yard and secured the gate. The port quay is safe, we can dock. " "This is the operations director. Got it. I'm sending ships to the port quay. Gregs! When will you be finished with the starboard side? " "This is Gregs. It'll take us another three minutes. But the quay is clear, we can dock. The warehouses are still being checked." To confirm his words, he heard several bursts from one of them. A moment later, he received a report that the port side of the warehouses and the breakwater had been searched. He ordered Bravo Squad to return and wait for the ship with the equipment. When Bravo Team reached him, Alpha Team reported that they had checked their section of the warehouses and were observing part of the dockyard. He ordered them to secure the entrance to the wharf from the dockyard, and he himself reported to the commander that his section was also finished. Now all that remained was to wait for the ships. The first part of the operation was drawing to a close. The port had been secured, and the ships were just finishing docking. As soon as the ships were firmly in place, a ramp was lowered onto the dock to allow for the unloading of vehicles. Gregs's men swiftly drove ashore. The unit had finished clearing its sector last and didn't have to wait long for further orders. "This is the Operations Director!" came the call in his headset. "All units! We are beginning the second phase! I repeat: we are beginning the second phase!" Gregs tapped his driver on the shoulder and they set off. Behind his vehicle were the other two. They met the remaining units in the dockyard and, after forming up, set off at full speed towards the city. Gregs's group rode in the center of the column, covered by the rest. Each of the twenty HUMMERs had a hatch in the roof that allowed the gunners to access the roof-mounted machine guns. The earthworm, bristling on all sides with barrels, drove along the road at speeds approaching 90 km/h. Along the way, they encountered almost no resistance. They destroyed only three observation posts along the route. After about an hour's drive, the team's navigator reported that they were entering the city zone. The column slowed, and the commandos rolled down their windows and displayed their weapons outside. Driving through the suburbs, every few intersections they encountered barricades made of barrels and old cars. Each was manned by about ten men. Each time they encountered such an obstacle, they had to ram it, drawing heavy fire. Casualties also occurred. The group leading the column included several who were eliminated from action. It took them another half hour to reach City Hall. Once there, Gregs's unit drove up to the main door of the building where the hostages were supposed to be. The rest formed a cordon around the building. A long, classical staircase led up to the building, ending in a terrace and a huge door. After receiving the order "from the wagons," the unit formed a tight column and moved toward the door. When Gregs, at the head of the column, reached them, he ordered the machine gunners and snipers to hide along the railings and observe the area in front. Then he continued his attack on the building. He looked back and, with a sign saying "Everything okay?", made sure they were ready and radioed: "This is building one. Ready to enter city hall. Waiting for the order. " "This is the operations director. Building one, wait a moment, we have a small problem in your area. Do not enter the building at this time. It's too dangerous! I repeat: do not enter the building!" "This is building one. Understood. Do not enter the building. I'm waiting for further orders." This very brief conversation changed the entire plan. Now he had to keep his unit in the open for who knows how long. He decided to hide behind the railings of the terrace in front of the entrance and set up lookouts all around. A moment later, shots rang out around the building. Several larger explosions, probably mortar shells, shook the facade of the town hall. Dust and shrapnel rained down on the commandos. A second later, the soldiers posted on guard returned fire. The shooting intensified. " We're being attacked by a JEEP with a machine gun and two infantry squads!" one of the guards reported. "We can't do it alone!" Immediately after these words, one of Gregs' men fell limp to the ground. " That was all I needed," he thought. He ordered the medic to tend to the "wounded man," and ordered the rest to join the defense. Now the defenders on the terrace and around the town hall had the advantage. After a few minutes, the gunfire stopped and the order came: "This is the operations director. Building one forward! Forward! Forward! " He gestured for his men to approach the door and prepare to enter. To avoid being detected upon entering the building, he ordered one of them to observe the door from behind the cover of the stairs opposite. This prevented the throwing of grenades, which could alert the defenders. After a count of three, Gregs pushed the door open vigorously. When the soldier on the stairs confirmed that no one was behind them, the column fell in. The building was quite large, but commandos are trained to locate terrorists and hostages. Following the training guidelines, Gregs immediately went upstairs and entered the corridor leading deeper into the building. All the doors along the corridor were locked. He halted the column. From then on, they would communicate only by hand signals. He ordered silencers to be placed on their weapons. He then informed the squad of the method he intended to use for searching the rooms. When everyone confirmed they understood, he gave the order "forward." The squad split into three-person teams. As the first two teams entered the rooms on either side of the corridor, the next teams were opening the doors to the next ones. They searched each room in this way. When the last available group had taken their rooms, the team in the first moved on, first painting a symbol on the wall to avoid searching the same rooms twice. To everyone's surprise, they found nothing. The part of the building they entered was empty. They headed to the second wing. Immediately upon entering the corridor, they were greeted by two terrorists. The sight of a column of commandos with weapons at the ready took them completely by surprise. They hesitated for a moment, but then surrendered. They were immediately restrained and placed under guard. The team searched the rooms one by one, and in most of them, they found the enemy and neutralized them. Unfortunately, they didn't find the hostages. And time was on their side. A cursory interrogation of the prisoners revealed that they were being held in the city council chamber. Now all that remained was to find that chamber. Gregs led his men outside again and contacted command: "This is building one. I searched part of the building, but I didn't find any hostages. However, I did capture a few of the kidnappers and determined they might be holding them in the city council chamber. Do you know where it is? " "This is the operations director. Wait a moment, building one! We have a plan of the building and we'll tell you how to get there in a moment. " Silence fell on the radio for a few moments. "This is the operations director. Building one, can you hear me? " "Yes, I can hear you loud and clear! " "To get to the council chamber, you have to turn right from the main hall and go to the end of the corridor. There's a door leading into the chamber. On the way, watch out for the rooms on the sides; they have a very unfavorable wall layout." You may have difficulty searching them quickly and safely. "Understood. I'm moving into action!" At his signal, the commandos formed a column again and entered the building. He led the column according to the instructions from command and indeed found themselves in a winding corridor. He halted the group and ordered them to increase their vigilance. From then on, two soldiers at the rear of the column kept an eye on the rear. Upon reaching the nearest door, Gregs ordered standard procedure to be followed, but with increased caution and silence. Two commandos separated from the column. One stood opposite, the other on the other side of the door, so that when it opened, they could observe the room through the crack of the opening door. After a count of three, Gregs pushed the door open vigorously. As soon as it swung open, the soldier in front of them fired a short burst. A moment later, they heard the thud of a body falling to the ground – the simulator clearly knew how to play it off. They continued searching the rooms until they reached a door marked "City Council Chamber." The doors were double-leafed and very massive. Gregs ordered the column to be divided into two groups. Upon entering, he instructed them to head left and right. This was to expedite the process of occupying the room. However, before entering, he decided to use another tried-and-true method. He took a slightly modified medical stethoscope from his backpack and placed it against the door. He heard a clear voice in the receiver, followed a moment later by two more. After listening for a while, he heard nothing more. He informed the rest of the unit and signaled for entry. Two commandos, one from each column, grabbed stun grenades. Gregs signaled three seconds to entry and began counting. Three... The soldiers pulled the pins from the grenades so they would explode immediately after being thrown. Two... One... He kicked open the door with a vigorous kick, and before he could even get his foot back on the ground, he heard two explosions. He plunged into the room at the head of one of the columns. He immediately recognized one of the attackers and killed him. Other members of the unit neutralized the others. Suddenly, a chair began to slide away from the long conference table. One of the commandos noticed this and warned the others. A man in a suit rose from the floor under the table, and a moment later, two women emerged. They looked quite frightened. "We're U.S. Navy soldiers, you're in no danger," Gregs reassured them. "Was there anyone else here? " "No. We were the only ones in the building. We were about to go home when they attacked City Hall. " "I understand." With that, Gregs ordered a group of commandos to search the rest of the building. "Now, we'll take you all to one of our ships." He ordered the unit remaining in the hall to form a cordon around the rescued hostages and escort them to their vehicles. Along the way, they encountered a second team, which had already cleared the rest of the town hall. A medic was already waiting for them in the vehicles, along with a soldier who had been "wounded" at the beginning of the assault. The unit boarded their vehicles and headed back to the port. They drove at full speed. In each car, between two commandos, sat a rescued hostage or prisoner. This was to protect them from accidental fire. Despite clearing the route on the way to the city, they encountered resistance on their return. Before they could escape the city area, they had to break down several barricades. Outside the city, they encountered no resistance. Along the way, Gergs reported the rescue of the hostages to command. He was ordered to take them to the port and transfer them to a waiting ship. After an hour of tedious driving, they finally arrived. The civilians and prisoners were transferred to the ship, which immediately put to sea, and Gregs's unit was ordered to secure the port, along with the arriving Marines. This task seemed child's play compared to the task he had just completed. He took to it eagerly. He had two companies of Marines and his assault force at his disposal. He posted machine gunners and snipers atop the port cranes, while soldiers with anti-tank launchers were sent to the barracks so they could fire on the gate. He positioned the remaining men at what he considered key points in the port. After ten minutes of running around, he was able to report that the port was secured. In response, he received orders to hold their positions until all troops returned and sailed off the island. A long and tedious wait began . About ten hours after the alert was raised, the exercise ended. Gregs's unit was the last to sail off the island, having secured the safe exit of all units from the harbor. Key West base was alive again. Soldiers, exhausted from their long work, were returning to their barracks. For the rank-and-file members of the assault units, it was the end of their workday, but their commanders still had a long and arduous debriefing ahead of them. During a surprisingly quick post-exercise debriefing, Gregs learned that his unit had performed well. However, he could have utilized its potential better. This potential haunted him for the rest of the day. True, he thought he could break down doors with a battering ram, but why? Kick-kicking them down was just as effective, and he didn't have to drop his weapon. You could hide behind a shield while walking down a corridor, but that narrowed your field of vision. You could use grenades every time you entered a room, but that exposed the attacker. Only the evening meeting with his group lifted his spirits. They had, after all, accomplished their mission with minimal casualties. All units were given a day off. After a day of sweet relaxation, relentless training began again. Equipment was also being prepared. A week after the exercise concluded, the unit was ready to launch operations in any corner of the globe within five hours of an alert being declared. ... While the exercises were underway in Key West, a feverish investigation was underway in Washington. Unfortunately, it was impossible to conceal it from the media. Crowds of journalists and photographers were camped outside the Joint Chiefs of Staff headquarters and other places where any information could be obtained. Keeping everything secret was impossible; the press has too long hands. The command decided to issue an official statement. Almost immediately, alarming news spread around the world. There was no newspaper in the entire civilized world that didn't report on the mysterious disappearance of the satellite and the US government's desire to recover it. Journalists also reached Key West, but they were not allowed inside the base and were denied any information. A press investigation began. Helicopters and light aircraft began flying over the base buildings, and crews with powerful scopes appeared on the surrounding hills. This displeased neither the command nor Reg. With the consent of local authorities, he closed the airspace above and around the base, and closed the land area so that it could not be seen. Patrols were dispatched to the area, and two fighter jets remained on duty in the air. This did not deter the reporters, who were constantly trying to gather information. Only warning bursts from the fighters' machine guns and cannons scared them away for good . About two months after losing contact with the satellite, Reg was summoned urgently to the Pentagon. He didn't know what was going on, but he had no choice. He boarded his official F-16 and, refueling several times along the way, flew to Washington. The next morning, he reported to the Pentagon. He was informed that he was to attend a meeting of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. He wasn't given any details, only that the conference would be held under heightened security. It took him a while to find his way through the maze of corridors in the pentagonal building. He finally reached the conference complex and, after navigating several levels of security, entered the conference room. It seemed they were waiting for him. "Hello, Reg. Sit down and listen carefully, because this is serious." He sat down as instructed. The old man never started like this, he thought, something's afoot. "Intelligence has managed to determine the location of the satellite and who's holding it." General Michel Gray, who was leading the meeting, turned off the lights and turned on a projector. An aerial photo of Cuba appeared on the wall. "The Cubans managed to capture the satellite after bringing it down. They hid it and began negotiations with interested parties to buy the device. Finally, a sheikh in the Middle East agreed to pay the requested sum. A few days ago, the satellite was launched hidden on the Iranian ship Nefris. The ship set off under the escort of several smaller vessels and broke through the still-open blockade of the island. It is currently about halfway there. It is scheduled to arrive at the port of Al-Mukalla in two weeks. We managed to obtain satellite photos of the ship and its escort. The ship itself is a medium-sized general cargo ship, in whose holds even large cargoes can easily be concealed. The escort consists of five vessels that look like ocean-going cutters, but it is certain they are heavily armed." Throughout the entire process, more photos were displayed on the wall. "I hope our next move is obvious to you gentlemen," the general continued. "I'm ordering the SEAL Special Operations Unit to seize the satellite and safely deliver it to the Key West base. Do you understand , Commander Matino?" "Yes. I hope I'll be given full access to the intelligence materials. " "Of course. " "Is that all, because I need to act immediately. " "Please attend to your duties. I'm ending this conference." Reg stormed out of the room. He managed to find the communications center fairly quickly. He requested a secure connection to the Key West base. A moment later, he was shown to a telephone and asked to be patient, as the traffic is terrible. He connected in less than five minutes. "This is Key West base. PFC Travis is on the phone. How may I help you?" "Commander Reg Matino, this is your address. Connect me to headquarters immediately! " "Yes, sir!" For a moment, he heard a chime on the line. "Kelt on the phone. " "Hello, Miss Kelt. Commander Matino, this is your address. Give me the operations officer, but with gas. " "One moment. " The chime sounded again. "Operations officer. I'm listening, Commander. " "Hi, Jim. We've got a real mess. Intelligence has managed to determine the fate of our lost ship. " "So? " "Imagine it's sailing across the Atlantic and is due to dock at Al-Mukalla in two weeks. " "Nothing strange about that. I've been saying from the beginning that it was the work of those Middle Easterners. " "Strange, not strange, but we're supposed to get in there and seize that satellite! Do you understand? " "Sure. " "I don't know how you plan to organize it, but you're supposed to move the unit somewhere in that area. Preferably to Iraq. And you're supposed to do it as soon as possible. Also, prepare operational plans to reclaim the satellite. " "Good." It'll be exactly as you ordered. " "I'll tell you again. I don't care how you do it, you can even stand on your ears, but the unit has to be fully operational, right there, in less than a week! " "I think there won't be any circus acrobatics, but it'll definitely be a real Saigon. " "Okay. You do your job, and I'll be on my way. I should be there in a few hours. I'll bring you all the intelligence materials. " "Okay. We'll wait. " "Bye then." Reg finished and hung up. Key West was in an uproar. The headquarters couldn't plan the entire operation precisely, because the detailed materials were supposed to arrive with the unit commander from Washington in a few hours. It was only agreed that it would be most convenient to operate from unused bases in Saudi Arabia, ready for immediate occupation. The Saudi government had maintained good relations with the United States for many years, so it agreed to allow American troops to stay there. The procedure for expedited military relocation to a desert airfield codenamed "SA-23" was initiated. ... Gregs' unit had completed the scheduled exercise for that morning. They had just returned to the barracks and were preparing their equipment for immediate use. "Okay, gentlemen! I'm done. Who's up for a game of ping-pong?" Gregs asked . Of course, there was no shortage of volunteers. After a few minutes, the clatter of balls on paddles echoed in the nearby sports hall. Suddenly, an unusual sound pierced the din in the hall. Everyone froze. A siren blared from the loudspeakers installed throughout the base. No one needed an explanation. Everyone threw paddles and balls everywhere and ran frantically back to their barracks. A moment later, the siren went off, and the voice of the base's chief operations officer came over the loudspeakers: "Attention! Attention! To all units! I'm declaring a first-level combat alert! I'm ordering preparations for relocation for an unknown time to an unknown location! Group commanders are to confirm receipt of this order as soon as possible! Get to work, guys!" The base seemed chaotic, because in reality, everyone knew what to do. The sappers and commandos had to pack up all their equipment and prepare it for transport. They had two hours to do so, according to regulations. It took the units about half an hour to gather their personal belongings, weapons, and equipment. Now a more difficult task awaited them. They had to dismantle the entire base infrastructure, which the sappers had brought and assembled earlier. The clatter of hammers and the grind of automatic screwdrivers echoed throughout the base. Every component, from a massive generator to small tents, fits into a standard container, suitable for all military transport. About a hundred containers had to be transported around the base and then brought back to the warehouse. In addition to the trucks, helicopters also got to work. Five of them buzzed overhead, filling the base with a terrifying clatter. A huge quartermaster machine was being launched, tasked with sorting and arranging all the containers in a designated area, so that it would be clear in what order and which containers would be transported to their new destination. Six hours after the order was given, Reg landed at the Key West airport. What he saw made a very good impression on him. The machine he led was running like clockwork. The last containers were just being packed and brought to the tarmac. Reg first walked into the headquarters, which no longer resembled the office from a few hours ago. The only recognizable features were the field radio antennas protruding from the piles of backpacks. "Hello everyone!" Reg called. "Where's the ops? " "I'm here!" Jim replied. "I have intelligence for you." Start developing a detailed attack plan. What have you come up with so far? "We've selected a location for a new base and outlined a tactic to seize the satellite. " "How do we want to get to it? " "It would be best to attack them while they're still at sea. To avoid too many losses, we should attack from underwater. It'll be difficult, but we've been training for over several months to do this. In case of failure or other problems, we'll create an attack plan in or around the port. " "Okay," Reg replied. "Do you have everything you need?" "Yes. Everyone already knows we have top priority, and they're not sulking like they did at the beginning. Three C-5 GALAXY transports and a squadron of fighters to protect them will be landing any minute now. Two submarines equipped to transport and disembark special forces are already on their way to the port of Al-Mukalla. They'll be there in a few days. " "So, from what I understand, all that's left is for me to pack and we're out of here." Reg was clearly pleased. The packing took him less than half an hour. When he finished and moved his things to headquarters, the huge transports were being loaded. One was almost ready for departure, and the engineers were boarding it. They'll leave early to give themselves time to prepare the new base for the arrival of the rest of the forces. By the end of the day, the Key West base was deserted. Only the permanently assigned security detachment remained. ... "Colonel Clerk! We should see the base in fifteen minutes," the captain of the enormous transport plane announced over the intercom. "Understood." I'll be right over," Clerk replied. He rose from the makeshift card table constructed from several backpacks and headed toward the pilot's cabin. A moment later, he was at the front of the upper deck. "How are things, gentlemen?" he asked the pilots. "Everything's fine. According to the GPS, we have about ten minutes to our destination. " "Very good. Did your headquarters send you a plan of this base? " "Yes. Here it is." The radio operator handed Clerk a sheaf of papers. "Okay. I'll sit somewhere close by and at least look through it. Give me a shout if you see anything. " "Sure." Behind the cockpit was the crew's lounge. There were several bunks, a table, and a small kitchenette. The second shift of pilots was already awake and preparing to operate the aircraft's equipment for landing. Clerk sat down on one of the bunks and began to read the plan. The base consisted of a concrete runway, a control tower, three hangars, and a few barracks. All of this stood in the heart of the desert. The wind was blowing sand across the buildings. The runway was most likely hidden under a layer of sand about a centimeter thick. Besides that, he had several hectares of open space, connections to drinking water, electricity, and sewage. This meant that there had once been a permanently manned US military base here. If only the connections were functional, he thought. The flight engineer interrupted his thoughts: "I can see the base now. " "I'm coming." The engineer returned to his console. Clerk folded his papers and looked back into the cockpit. "And what do you see? " "Not much yet. I see a few buildings... And what looks like a runway, but very blurry. It's either destroyed or covered with sand..." The co-pilot removed the binoculars from his eyes and handed them to Clerk. "Yes... The runway is blurry... Is there any way we can confirm that? " "We can try. I hope, as a special-purpose squadron, they know how to clear the runway... Andy, contact the airframe and have them send someone there. " "Sure," the radio operator replied. He switched a few knobs on his console, moved the microphone closer to his mouth, and began calling: "This is transport one. Airframe, report!" There was a moment of silence. Clerk put on additional headphones and plugged into the socket indicated by the radio operator so he could hear the conversation. "This is airframe. Airframe one, report! " "Target ahead at 12. You should be able to see the outline of the runway. " "Yes, I see. " "Send someone there and have them clear it. I want to know if the runway is usable. " "Understood! Send someone and clear the runway. Doing it! No reception! " "No reception." The radio operator removed his headphones and looked out the cabin window. "Oh!" They're already on their way... A moment later, a Saracen fighter appeared ahead of the transport, equipped, like all navy aircraft, with vertical takeoff and landing capabilities thanks to a tilting rear engine nozzle. The small, agile aircraft accelerated in a flash and was soon far ahead. After a moment, it began to slow and hover. Finally, it reached the runway and began to slowly fly down the center of it. Clerk watched through his binoculars as the powerful jet stream from the fighter's engine blew dust from the runway, exposing its surface. From what he could see, the runway appeared to be slightly damaged. He handed the binoculars to the copilot, who made a final assessment and said, "Okay. This looks pretty good. We'll manage. We'll manage without any unnecessary frills. A standard preparatory drop will suffice, and we'll land. " "Sure," Clerk replied. "I'll go get the men ready, and you'll get on the drop level and course." He exited the cockpit and headed for his men. Most of them were asleep. The long flight over the Atlantic was taking its toll. One by one, he woke the members of the landing party and ordered them to prepare for the jump. A moment later, a ten-man squad stood before him: the commander, two radio operators, and seven soldiers manning the landing site preparation equipment. They wore parachute harnesses and backpacks with equipment strapped between their legs. They also carried two equipment pods. Clerk and this awkward-looking group moved to the rear of the aircraft's lower deck, where the landing doors were located. Three crew members were waiting for them there. Two of them took over the equipment pods and headed for the unloading ramp, and one of them addressed them: "Good to have you here. We still have a moment. Let's go through the entire preparation procedure first, and then we'll have a moment. " "Okay," Clerk agreed. "Parachute check!" ordered the cargo operator . The squad lined up, and the operator checked each harness and parachute one by one. When he finished, he glanced at his watch and shouted, "Five minutes to drop!" Clerk repeated his assignment with the squad leader. It didn't take them long. After a while, Clerk was chatting with the soldiers about everything and nothing. Their conversation was interrupted only by the airman at the door: "Get ready!" Clerk stepped back to make way for the jumpers who had approached the door. Another command came: "Connect the landing lines!" Each jumper unclipped the landing line's carabiner from its shoulder buckle and connected it to the steel cable running along the length of the cargo hold. This allows the parachute to open automatically when the falling jumper moves away from the plane, and the parachute's landing line unwinds and releases the parachute lock. The pilot opened the plane's door, and a rush of air swept everyone. After setting up an additional platform so the jumper could jump from outside the plane, he stepped back and tapped the first jumper to prepare for the jump. A red light flashed above the door. After a long moment, it faded, and a green one flashed next to it. Two equipment pods were thrown over the rear ramp, and, tapped by the pilot's firm hand, the sapper jumped into the void. More followed. In less than a minute, twelve parachutes were suspended in the air behind the plane. Just before landing, the jumpers lowered their backpacks on long lines, keeping them out of the way. After a moment, they linked and straightened their legs, hitting the ground, losing their momentum with a backflip. Five minutes after the jump, the preparation group was on the ground. They efficiently gathered their parachutes and got to work. While the radio operators prepared their radios to establish contact with the plane, the rest of the team spread red tarps in the shape of an arrow indicating the wind direction, prepared a parking area, and several soldiers stood about a hundred meters away with their weapons ready to fire. After providing the pilot with all the necessary information, the plane began its descent. The rear wheels touched down first, and when the front wheels also rolled on the concrete, the pilot engaged reverse thrust to slow the giant. The plane was enveloped in a cloud of dust raised by the blast from the engines. Moments later, a slowly moving plane emerged. One of the soldiers lit a smoke flare to direct the pilot to his destination. The entire operation was completed in less than half an hour . After landing, the soldiers moved to the lower deck under the rear ramp so they could exit as quickly as possible. After a long moment, the ramp began to descend, letting in the rays of the bright tropical sun. When the ramp had lowered enough to allow them to safely exit, Colonel Clerk gave the order: "Forward!" His men moved out. Each unit had assigned tasks and immediately began work. Three teams immediately spread out across the base to check the fence, gate, and the guard posts around the base. Other units moved into the buildings to check their condition and possible equipment. Another group ran to the electricity and water connections to check their serviceability, which was crucial for further development of the base. The remaining engineers began unloading the aircraft. Clerk personally directed everything from the radio operator's station. After ten minutes, the radio operator handed him the receiver and stated tersely: "The water guys." Clerk grabbed the receiver and asked for a report. "We've checked the water, electricity, and sewage connections. Things aren't looking good, boss. " "What exactly?" Clerk wasn't too pleased with this turn of events. "We can forget about the sewage system altogether, because the manhole is filled with sand. The electricity is also spotty. The voltage on the line is there, but it fluctuates and sometimes drops out. The water is there, but it doesn't meet any sanitary requirements. The contamination test showed it was completely unsuitable for consumption or industrial use. " "I understand. We'll figure it out. Go back to the plane! " "Yes, sir. We're going back!" A moment later, the group from the buildings reported that they were in good condition and ready for use. Now the situation was completely clear, and Clerk could make a decision on how to proceed. He shouted to the soldiers bustling around the plane to stop their work and come over. "The reconnaissance guys have already checked everything," he began. "There's no sewage system. There's electricity, but the voltage is fluctuating. There's water, but the quality is very poor." Here's the plan for the next few hours: Electricians will prepare generators and connect power to the building and the newly erected barracks. Plumbers will assemble a complete filtration plant and run filtered water to the building and barracks. The rest will prepare the command center in the buildings and set up barracks and restrooms nearby. Any questions? Silence answered him. "Well, let's get to work!" For the next few hours, the base was a hive of activity. Clerk ran frantically from place to place, supervising the work, often rolling up his sleeves himself. By evening, everything was ready for the arrival of the commandos, who were already on their way and expected to arrive before dawn . According to Reg's orders, the SEAL unit was ready to deploy from its new base within five days. Essential equipment from across the Middle East was brought to the base near Al-Mukalla. The unit's headquarters was finalizing the details of the attack plan against the Iranian ship Nerfris, which was carrying the stolen satellite. The plan was highly unusual. Similar operations had only been conducted during exercises, but had never been used in combat. Ultimately, Reg was presented with a plan that involved attacking the ship and its protecting flotilla of cutters using submarine-delivered troops. They were to reach the general cargo ship undetected, board it, and seize control. Then, the protecting units would be attacked, now conventionally from the air. As a contingency plan, a stealth takeover of the ship in port was planned. Reg approved the plans and ordered them to be implemented immediately. He instructed that details of the operation be communicated to the commanders of the individual assault groups only at sea. ... After reaching the new base, Gregs's unit had not even spent a week there before it was ordered to transfer aboard the special-purpose submarine USS Shark. Two more units were embarked with his unit, and Gregs was appointed commander of the group tasked with attacking the satellite freighter. The ship was delivered the necessary equipment, according to the staff, along with a sealed envelope with instructions to be opened by the ship's captain upon departure. After the loading was completed, the ship received orders to sail immediately. Once the ship was a safe distance from port, maneuvering stations were canceled, and the captain set a course at his whim. After waiting an hour, as was standard procedure, the captain invited Gregs in. When he entered his small cabin, the captain locked the door behind him and asked him to sit down. "Before we set sail, I received this envelope," he said, opening the safe and pulling out a small, sealed envelope. "I was instructed to open it only at sea." I'd like to do this with you, as the orders probably apply to both of us. "I'm pleased," Gregs replied. "In that case, please check the integrity of the seal." Gregs took the envelope and, after examining the seal, handed it to the captain, saying, "The envelope is intact. Please open it. " The captain broke the seal and pulled out a sheet of paper with an order from the Joint Chiefs of Staff of the United States Army: !Classified! Commander, Joint Chiefs of Staff, United States Army. Order of Battle No. 1. I am ordering SEAL Team to conduct the operation to seize the spy satellite "ELMO." Attachment No. 1: SEAL Team Commander. Order of Battle No. 2. In accordance with the order of the Commander of the Joint Chiefs of Staff of the U.S. Army, I am ordering an attack on the Iranian general cargo ship "Nefris." The ship's position, course, and speed at the time of this order were: 58°67s longitude east, 10°60s latitude south. Course: 25°. Speed: 15 knots. Current position information can be obtained by contacting the "NAVSTAR" satellite on coded band 957. Operation details: The attack will be carried out underwater, using the supplied equipment. After seizing the ship, transmit the code word "Młot" on channel 057, which will trigger helicopters to seize and support the vessels covering the "Nefris." After seizing all enemy ships in the flotilla, transmit the code word "Kowadło" on channel 057. Communication with the base will be maintained on channel 059 throughout the operation . The attack group's code name is "Strała." The communications officer's codename at headquarters: "Sword." For political reasons, try not to kill the enemy, but to disable them. For the duration of the operation, Master Sergeant Gregs assumes command of the three assault groups assigned to the operation. For the duration of the operation, the USS Shark is granted full independence from the US Navy. Attached are the ship's plans. Burn after the radio announcement of the end of the operation. After reading the orders, the captain turned to Gregs, "Okay. I'll take my little gem to the bottom of this boat and stay there, and you go in and do your job. " "I agree. " "In that case, I invite you to the bridge, and I'll give the appropriate orders. I want you to know what we're going to do. " "I'd love to. I've never seen this from the back in my life; they always put us in cabins and told us to prepare for action," Gregs said with almost childlike enthusiasm. The captain smiled and, opening the door, headed for the bridge. "Captain on the bridge!" "The watchman's strong voice announced in a firm tone. Everyone in the room stood at attention. "Relax!" the captain said with a smile. "What's the situation? " "We're surface-level, course 175 degrees, speed 10 knots," the officer of the watch reported. "Thank you. Prepare to dive!" The captain ordered. The officer of the watch grabbed the ship's public address system and relayed the order to the crew. A moment later, the voices of the officers responsible for each compartment of the ship came over the loudspeaker at his station, confirming their readiness to dive. After a few minutes, the officer of the watch reported: "Captain! The ship is ready to dive. " "Thank you. Draft to 30 meters." "Draft to 30 meters." The watchman relayed the order to the officer responsible for steering the ship, who relayed it to the sailors at the helm. He then sounded the alarm siren and broadcast a warning over the ship's public address system: "Draft! Drip!" He repeated the warning twice and tapped the sailors at the helm, who abruptly pushed the control wheel away. After a moment, the ship heeled over and began to sink into the depths. The captain closely monitored the depth gauge and, when the depth reached 10 meters, issued another order: "Establish contact with the NAVSTAR satellite on encrypted band number 957. The satellite will transmit the target's current position, course, and speed. Set an intercept course." The watchman relayed the order to the appropriate department, who, after a few seconds, transmitted the Nefris's position to the navigator's table, who, using his mysterious tools and a calculator, calculated the course and reported: "Sir, Captain!" Proposed course: 176 degrees at 20 knots, and after three hours, change to 193 degrees and maintain speed. "Thank you. Course 176 degrees, speed 20 knots. " The watchman relayed the order to the helm, which after a long pause reported: "At a depth of 50 meters. Course 176 degrees, speed 20 knots. " "Thank you. Keep course updated with the target's course. Please inform me when we are 10 miles from the target. " "Yes, sir." The captain told Gregs that the maneuvers were complete and that he would let him know when they began their approach to the Nefris. In the ship's missile compartment, Gregs called a briefing. This compartment was a rebuilt version of the standard missile system installed on nuclear missile carriers. Instead of dozens of launchers, it had only four, but these were converted into airlocks allowing access to a hangar mounted on the ship's hull, which could be flooded and exited. Once everyone was assembled, Gregs read the order from command and presented the plans of the ship they were to commandeer. "We should go out aft," he said, pointing, "and split up. Two groups will move along the sides, and one will go into the quarterdeck at the stern. When we reach the bow, we'll position snipers and machine guns there so they can fire on the bridge, deck, and neighboring ships, while we head below deck and into the quarterdeck to help those who are there. Each group will receive a complete set of ship plans and will mark the searched areas with spray. When we're finished, we'll meet again aft and set up posts throughout the ship. Any questions? " Silence answered him. "Good. Here are the plans," he said, handing them to the squad leaders and one of his men. "Since I'm supposed to be in charge of all this, I won't go first. Brian, you'll take the plan and plan the route, and John will lead the column. I'll go third. Okay? " "Sure. " "Well, let's get to work. Open the hangar and we'll start unpacking the equipment. I wonder what they gave us? Oh... One more thing: We only fire as a last resort; command wants these men alive!" They swiftly opened one of the airlocks and entered the hermetically sealed hangar, which was filled with numerous crates and bags. It took them almost half an hour to unpack and sort everything. According to the inventory provided, they had one closed-circuit breathing apparatus, a harness with a rope and carabiner, a diving suit, a mask, fins, a powerful diving light, a diving knife, and four electromagnets for climbing the ship's side per person. In addition, each group had two powerful electromagnets mounted in a positive-buoyancy socket on a long line terminated with a carabiner, and two winches. In addition, there was a cable connecting them to the ship, powering the electromagnets and winches, and emergency batteries. In addition, each soldier carried a weapon, ammunition, grenades, night vision goggles, and a radio. In total, each man carried over 20 kg of equipment. When everyone had assembled and donned their equipment, they looked like a group of aliens. Each was so heavily laden they could barely stand. Gregs, learning that their destination was still over three hours away, ordered the hangar flooded, the breathing apparatus checked, and the divers balanced so they wouldn't have to contend with their positive or negative buoyancy. This took over half an hour. By the time the hangar filled with air again, everyone was slightly exhausted. Gregs suggested sending a few men to the mess hall for a snack, and he himself, having also stopped by the mess hall, went to look for the captain. ... When Gregs entered the bridge, he found nothing of interest. The sailors were doing their job quietly and with great precision. All his childhood fantasies of shipboard service as a mess, running around, and cursing on the bridge were shattered. He found the captain there. "Sir. We're ready to go. " "Very well. We still have about an hour until we rendezvous with the target, but we'll begin maneuvers to turn around and get directly underneath it in no more than twenty minutes. I was just about to send for you. " "Thank you. Do you think we're in any danger? " "Absolutely nothing. On the starboard side, within range of our sonar, we're protected by the mainland, so no one will be able to sail out from there." We have ocean on the other side, but about half an hour ago we made sonar contact with a British fighter submarine, which said it knew about our mission and had orders to cover us. "Oh my gosh. They're up there... That's how they figured it out... And what about our target? Will he do anything to us? " "He doesn't even know we're approaching him. He doesn't have sonar, and we're invisible from the surface. Besides, it's night, so even if we get within ten meters of him, he won't see us," the captain was clearly boasting about his ship. Their conversation was interrupted by the ringing of the internal phone at the captain's station. The captain turned on the loudspeaker and heard: "This is sonar! We have contact on detailed, sir! " "Very good. Transfer the data to the navigation table and update it continuously. " "Yes, sir!" After a moment, the yellow dot on the navigation table corresponding to the ship's position given by the satellite turned green. This meant that the ship's position, given in blue by the sonar, matched the satellite position exactly. "Got you, sweetie... You can't escape me now..." the captain whispered. A moment later, he added louder: "Navigator!" Distance to target? "Nine miles, sir. " "Thank you. Please schedule an entry maneuver to ten meters below the target's bottom and update continuously. " "Yes, sir." The navigator issued a few commands to the computer at his station, and a line and course and depth change points lit up on the table. The captain studied the map for a long moment, even checking a few points and nodding in satisfaction. "Officer of the watch!" came another command. "On command, sir. " "Prepare for engine maneuvers. Prepare for rudder and depth maneuvers. I am announcing underwater maneuvering stations. " "Yes, sir," the watchman confirmed, pulled the ship's horn, and, removing his microphone, began transmitting orders to the crew. After a few minutes, all sections of the ship reported readiness, which the captain immediately learned. "Thank you, navigator! Please begin dictating the maneuver when you deem appropriate. " "Yes, sir. We begin in two minutes." For a minute, there was dead silence, broken by the captain's next order: "Attention on the helm. Attention on the engines. We are commencing maneuvers." The engine and the sailors at the controls confirmed their readiness. Now all eyes were glued to the navigator, who stared at his computer monitor, waiting for the signal to reach the correct position. Suddenly, a message appeared. "Course change ten degrees to port! " "Course change ten degrees to port," confirmed the sailor at the helm. The navigator was now steering the ship; there was no time for the captain and officers to relay orders. "Five minutes until the next maneuver." And again, an ominous silence reigned. Seconds stretched into minutes, minutes into hours. Only the clock mounted at the navigator's station relentlessly ticked away. "Ten degrees to port!" the navigator cut into the silence like a knife. "It's ten degrees to port," came the reply almost immediately. "Hold it until I say so! " "Yes! " "Engine! Half ahead! " "It's half ahead," replied the officer at the propulsion console. The change in course could be felt throughout the ship. The deck began to vibrate slightly, and the plates on the tables shifted. Finally, however, the navigator changed things. "Rudder! Keep it up. " "Keep it up," the helmsman replied, countering with the rudder. The compass needle, which had been changing its readings moments before, stopped. "We're under target, sir! " "All right. Give me the view from the camera on the conning tower." A moment later, an image appeared on the screen. They were 50 meters underwater, so it was completely dark. "Damn... We can't see much... Normally we'd have at least minimal visibility here..." The captain was clearly displeased. He pressed a button on the comm console and called out: "Sonar! This is the captain. " "This is sonar. I'm listening. " "Check what's above us. " There was a moment of silence. "I'm not detecting anything, except for one twin-screw ship. " "Good. Thank you, sonar. " The captain exhaled. "Navigator! Clearing the way up. " "Understood, sir. Rudder! Surface to 15 meters! " "It's 15 meters." The ship tilted upward. The captain looked at Gregs and said: "We'll be ready to flood and open the hangar in ten minutes. " "Okay. I'll go get ready. " "I'll let you know when we start."