SEAL Team Six: Hunt the Fox by Don Mann, Ralph Pezzullo Read Free Book Online Page B

as recently as a month ago, when Turkish antiterror forces raided an ISIS safe house in the province of Adana. They arrested twelve terrorists and captured a cache of weapons and documents. Among the weapons they found a canister of sarin that had been seized from a base outside Damascus.”
    Akil asked, “Any idea what they are planning to do with it?”
    Janice looked at Anders, who nodded. She said, “NSA has picked up coded chatter on some ISIS al-Qaeda websites from someone who calls himself the Fox. His goal he says is to give ISIS an international profile by attacking the West.”
    “That’s messed up,” Akil said.
    “Especially when the WMDs they need are within reach,” Anders added.
    Crocker leaned forward. “What do you need us to do?” he asked, already anticipating the answer.
    “First, I need you to assess whether or not you can insert into Syria and recover the sarin canisters in the tunnel outside of Idlib before the city falls to ISIS, which could happen any day,” answered Anders.
    “There’s nothing to assess,” Crocker said.
    “Meaning what?”
    “Meaning, it needs to be done, so let’s get to it.”
    “That’s not what I asked,” Anders countered. “I want you to explore the possibility. Evaluate contingencies and capabilities, and assess options.”
    “You already said that there’s no time.”
    Anders frowned. “The problem is, Crocker, that without reliable partners or assets inside, we’re not sure how to get you inside Syria, or where it’s safe to operate.”
    “We’ll figure that out.”
    “How?”
    “We need to talk to people who know what’s going on, on the ground.”
    “I’ll call our liaison in Turkish MiT,” replied Anders.
    “Good.”
    “When are the rest of your men arriving?”
    “They’re scheduled to land at 1700.”
    “Then let’s arrange a meet tonight.”
      
    The room at the Hotel Nena Istanbul, only a block and a half away from the Sultanhan, was lavish by SEAL standards. From the rooftop restaurant where Crocker and Akil snacked on hummus, black olives, and Efes Pilsen, they took in a panoramic view of the city, from the port located on the Asian side, to Bosphorus Bridge, Topkapi Palace, Hagia Sophia, the Blue Mosque with the Golden Horn in the background, and the Prince Islands in the Sea of Marmara.
    “Pretty damn impressive, right?” Crocker asked.
    After six years of working together in places like Pakistan, Yemen, Paraguay, and Afghanistan, he thought of Akil as a younger brother, even though their backgrounds were wildly different. Crocker came from a hardscrabble town in Massachusetts; Akil was born Muslim in a town outside of Cairo, emigrated to the States with his family, and joined the U.S. Marines. SEAL teams had bound the two men together in ways most people couldn’t understand.
    “Yeah,” Akil offered, holding up his hand to shield the late afternoon sun. “There’s a whole shitload of history out there.”
    “More than we can comprehend.”
    “You notice how the Ottomans stuck the minarets on the Hagia Sophia?” Akil asked, pointing to the glistening multidomed monument.
    “I did.”
    “Randi told me about it. Started as the seat of the Greek Orthodox church in the fifth century, was converted into a Roman Catholic cathedral at the end of the Roman Empire, became a Muslim mosque when the Ottomans ran the city, and after World War I it was turned into a museum.”
    “Randi, the blonde I saw you with earlier?” Crocker asked, thinking about how the mission to recover the sarin was going to work.
    “Yeah. Puts everything in perspective, right?”
    They’d need a reliable escort, weapons, a good cover, comms, vehicles. He saw Akil looking at him, waiting for an answer. “Who, Randi?” he asked.
    “No, the Hagia Sophia,” Akil answered. “I mean all the blood that was shed over the place by the different religious groups. And now it’s a museum.”
    “Yeah.”
    After World War I, Turkish nationalist and