The Iranian Blockade

Начало книги

A GRIM COLD GREY DAWN stretched out to the horizon, where it met low-lying grey cloud. The USS Hopper an Arleigh Burke class Destroyer rolled in the mid-ocean swell; she’d come abeam to make her approach. The biting wind, whipped spray from the crests of the waves. The diver stood on deck lashed by a passing shower. A thin layer of ice covered the foredeck, built up by the freezing rain. Icicles hung down from cables and sharp edges.

A sailor emerged from a hatchway, dressed in a hooded waterproof. He hurriedly walked over to the diver, his face scowled at the windblown shower. The diver wore a black dry suit and a couple of instruments wrapped around the wrists. Stood impassive, ignoring the rain and the cold howling wind. The sailor pointed off the starboard quarter

“There. About two hundred yards. We’re at the right location. It was hard to find, but we got the buoy on radar. She’s coming in up current. There won’t be much of a run on, it’s slack water right now.”

Читать дальше →