Sea of Terror by Stephen Coonts
Authors: Stephen Coonts
Tags: Fiction, thriller, Suspense, Thrillers, Action & Adventure, Espionage, Intelligence Officers, Political, Government investigators, Undercover operations, Terrorists, Cyberterrorism, National security, Hijacking of ships, Nuclear terrorism
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he called up a status report. Maybe they could be diverted to Ankara for a look at Turkey^s police records.
The team had been assigned to Operation Stargazer, a routine and low-risk op being conducted in conjunction with the CIA, designed to slip an electronic Trojan horse into Syrian intelligence.
Here they were. Howard Taggart and Lia DeFrancesca. Good
Security gate Atlantis Queen dock Southampton, England Thursday, 1412 hours GMT
"You are sure this will bypass the main gate?"
"Yes, sir. It's an access for heavy equipment, but it's rarely used." Ghailiani was sweating heavily, squeezed into the cab of the six-ton lorry between Khalid and the driver as they made the final turn off Herbert Walker Avenue and into an alley between two enormous warehouses. The terminal was a hundred meters to the left, the gate just ahead.
"Pray you are right, Mohamed." The truck squeaked to a stop, the way ahead blocked by a padlocked chain-link gate. "I need to get out."
Khalid opened the passenger door and stepped down into the alley. Ghailiani followed. He fished inside the pocket of his slacks for the key he'd taken from the terminal security office forty minutes ago.
He'd been hoping to find the gate guarded. Security around the Royal Sky Line dock in Southampton had been tight, lately, and it was possible that an armed guard would have been posted, if only to foil would-be smugglers from reaching the dock and the Atlantis Queen's hold.
But there was no one here. He unlocked the heavy padlock, pulled the chain from the fence, and swung the gate open. Khalid waved the truck through.
The truck turned left and kept going as Ghailiani closed the gate.
Ghailiani and Khalid would follow the truck on foot.
Atlantis Queen passenger terminal
Southampton, England Thursday, 1418 hours GMT
"Everybody stay together!" Donald Myers fluttered his hands, trying to get the group's attention. "Please stay together! We still need to go through the security gate!"
He was, Myers thought, getting too damned old for this nonsense. A docent of the Walters Art Gallery in Baltimore, Maryland, he'd been guide and nanny for more tour groups now than he really cared to think about. Lately, it seemed, his job had been less about lecturing on eastern Mediterranean culture than it had been about herding rich little old ladies from one point to another and trying to keep them all together, a process uncannily like attempting to herd cats.
This time around, he was responsible for a group of eighteen, fourteen of them women, four of them men, and all of them over sixty. They'd signed up for the Atlantis Queen tour to Greece and the Near East, and he was there to give lectures on a variety of topics, from art in ancient Greece, to the Bible as history, to the writings of Homer; but sometimes he felt that he was little more than a poorly paid babysitter.
Leading the way, he stepped through the metal detector, then turned and waited for the rest. Ms. Jones and Mr. and Mrs. Galsworthy stepped through okay, but the alarm sounded as Ms. Dunne, waved through by an impatient security guard, set off the metal detector with her walker.
"Oh, dear," Ms. Dunne said, looking about. "Did I do that?"
"Over here, please, ma'am," the guard said. He began using a wand to check Ms. Dunne from head to toe, to make sure that it had been her walker that had triggered the device and not, Myers thought with wry amusement, a bomb hidden beneath her knit cardigan.
The others followed, one by one.
"Mr. Myers?" one elderly woman said after she'd stepped through.
"Yes, Ms. Caruthers?"
She pointed. "What does that sign mean?"
Just beyond the metal detector they were faced now by a somewhat ominous white tunnel and several blue-uniformed security guards. A sign on a metal pole to one side read:
Please form single line for x-ray security screening.
Procedure is safe and unobtrusive.
Passengers may request hand search in lieu of X-ray scan.
The procedure is for your safety.
Royal
The team had been assigned to Operation Stargazer, a routine and low-risk op being conducted in conjunction with the CIA, designed to slip an electronic Trojan horse into Syrian intelligence.
Here they were. Howard Taggart and Lia DeFrancesca. Good
Security gate Atlantis Queen dock Southampton, England Thursday, 1412 hours GMT
"You are sure this will bypass the main gate?"
"Yes, sir. It's an access for heavy equipment, but it's rarely used." Ghailiani was sweating heavily, squeezed into the cab of the six-ton lorry between Khalid and the driver as they made the final turn off Herbert Walker Avenue and into an alley between two enormous warehouses. The terminal was a hundred meters to the left, the gate just ahead.
"Pray you are right, Mohamed." The truck squeaked to a stop, the way ahead blocked by a padlocked chain-link gate. "I need to get out."
Khalid opened the passenger door and stepped down into the alley. Ghailiani followed. He fished inside the pocket of his slacks for the key he'd taken from the terminal security office forty minutes ago.
He'd been hoping to find the gate guarded. Security around the Royal Sky Line dock in Southampton had been tight, lately, and it was possible that an armed guard would have been posted, if only to foil would-be smugglers from reaching the dock and the Atlantis Queen's hold.
But there was no one here. He unlocked the heavy padlock, pulled the chain from the fence, and swung the gate open. Khalid waved the truck through.
The truck turned left and kept going as Ghailiani closed the gate.
Ghailiani and Khalid would follow the truck on foot.
Atlantis Queen passenger terminal
Southampton, England Thursday, 1418 hours GMT
"Everybody stay together!" Donald Myers fluttered his hands, trying to get the group's attention. "Please stay together! We still need to go through the security gate!"
He was, Myers thought, getting too damned old for this nonsense. A docent of the Walters Art Gallery in Baltimore, Maryland, he'd been guide and nanny for more tour groups now than he really cared to think about. Lately, it seemed, his job had been less about lecturing on eastern Mediterranean culture than it had been about herding rich little old ladies from one point to another and trying to keep them all together, a process uncannily like attempting to herd cats.
This time around, he was responsible for a group of eighteen, fourteen of them women, four of them men, and all of them over sixty. They'd signed up for the Atlantis Queen tour to Greece and the Near East, and he was there to give lectures on a variety of topics, from art in ancient Greece, to the Bible as history, to the writings of Homer; but sometimes he felt that he was little more than a poorly paid babysitter.
Leading the way, he stepped through the metal detector, then turned and waited for the rest. Ms. Jones and Mr. and Mrs. Galsworthy stepped through okay, but the alarm sounded as Ms. Dunne, waved through by an impatient security guard, set off the metal detector with her walker.
"Oh, dear," Ms. Dunne said, looking about. "Did I do that?"
"Over here, please, ma'am," the guard said. He began using a wand to check Ms. Dunne from head to toe, to make sure that it had been her walker that had triggered the device and not, Myers thought with wry amusement, a bomb hidden beneath her knit cardigan.
The others followed, one by one.
"Mr. Myers?" one elderly woman said after she'd stepped through.
"Yes, Ms. Caruthers?"
She pointed. "What does that sign mean?"
Just beyond the metal detector they were faced now by a somewhat ominous white tunnel and several blue-uniformed security guards. A sign on a metal pole to one side read:
Please form single line for x-ray security screening.
Procedure is safe and unobtrusive.
Passengers may request hand search in lieu of X-ray scan.
The procedure is for your safety.
Royal
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