with fifteen minutes of margin for the 1910 diver lockout.
“There are no known large underwater obstructions within several miles of our route and the bottom slopes gently toward the shore, with the average water depth starting at one hundred eighty feet and gradually reducing to forty. When we reach Point Yankee, we slow to four knots and make a quick periscope observation of the landing area. We should be one mile from the shore at that point and we should be able to see our passengers on the beach. The last mile we creep in at four knots at an initial depth of thirty feet, coming shallower as we get closer. We stop at Point Zulu, three hundred meters from the shore, rise to a keel depth of fifteen feet and hover there at neutral buoyancy.”
Ramey nodded, following Jerry’s narration in his notes. “Petty Officer Lapointe.”
Petty Warfare Operator First Class Nathan Lapointe was from Baton Rouge. Short and compact, he was an excellent swimmer, even among the SEALs. He was also the communications expert, and the senior petty officer on the team. “The four-man element locks out by 1910 and approaches submerged to within a hundred meters of shore. I surface to do a quick look, and if it’s clear, the swim pairs split and complete the approach on the surface, blacked out in a combat swimmer mode. Fazel is with me and Petty Officer Phillips is with Mr. Ramey.
“Both swim pairs reach the beach by 1930. We come ashore about fifty meters apart, flanking the precious cargo that should still be on the beach. If that’s the case, I’ll go and take up an overwatch position here.” He pointed to a spot on a satellite photo of the beach. “I can watch the road, the beach landing site, and the dead space behind this rise.
“Once I’m ensconced, I’ll signal you that I’m in place and that the coast is clear. If at any time I see problems, I’ll alert the other element members and extract by the secondary route. I don’t make contact with the precious cargo, but provide cover for the rendezvous, and the withdrawal. Once the precious cargo is safely in the water, I’ll abandon the overwatch position, link up with my swim buddy, and we withdraw from the objective area together.”
“And once you send the All clear,’ the rest of us will move toward the rendezvous point,” Ramey continued. “Fazel on the left, Phillips and I are on the right. Fazel and Phillips establish a security perimeter while I make contact and establish the assets’ bona fides. The pass phrases are typical CIA, cutesy, but simple, and they should be sufficient. The phrases are the two stanzas from the nursery rhyme, ‘Star Light, Star Bright.’ I give the first stanza in Farsi. They respond with the second stanza in English. Harry’s been getting my Farsi up to speed, but since he’s a native speaker I’ll want his ears close to me just in case there’s an issue. Once we are sure of whom we have, I’ll fit them with swim bladders and Petty Officer Phillips and I get them into the water. We’ll conduct a surface swim back out to the ASDS, which hopefully will be able to get closer. The main concern is the water temperature. The latest data shows the surface water running about sixty-seven degrees Fahrenheit, a bit chilly for civilians.”
Special Warfare Operator Second Class Heydar “Harry” Fazel was the team’s medic, a hospital corpsman second class and the next senior after Lapointe. Every SEAL mission included a medical specialist, and Fazel’s skills would have made him a physician’s assistant in the civilian world. Although a medic, he would be armed to the teeth like the other members of the extraction team. “I cover left and stand by in case you need translation, but stay close enough to Pointy to lend assistance as needed.” Fazel was a first-generation American, born in the U.S. after his parents had fled the Iranian Revolution in 1979.
“After the Boss, Philly and the precious
“There are no known large underwater obstructions within several miles of our route and the bottom slopes gently toward the shore, with the average water depth starting at one hundred eighty feet and gradually reducing to forty. When we reach Point Yankee, we slow to four knots and make a quick periscope observation of the landing area. We should be one mile from the shore at that point and we should be able to see our passengers on the beach. The last mile we creep in at four knots at an initial depth of thirty feet, coming shallower as we get closer. We stop at Point Zulu, three hundred meters from the shore, rise to a keel depth of fifteen feet and hover there at neutral buoyancy.”
Ramey nodded, following Jerry’s narration in his notes. “Petty Officer Lapointe.”
Petty Warfare Operator First Class Nathan Lapointe was from Baton Rouge. Short and compact, he was an excellent swimmer, even among the SEALs. He was also the communications expert, and the senior petty officer on the team. “The four-man element locks out by 1910 and approaches submerged to within a hundred meters of shore. I surface to do a quick look, and if it’s clear, the swim pairs split and complete the approach on the surface, blacked out in a combat swimmer mode. Fazel is with me and Petty Officer Phillips is with Mr. Ramey.
“Both swim pairs reach the beach by 1930. We come ashore about fifty meters apart, flanking the precious cargo that should still be on the beach. If that’s the case, I’ll go and take up an overwatch position here.” He pointed to a spot on a satellite photo of the beach. “I can watch the road, the beach landing site, and the dead space behind this rise.
“Once I’m ensconced, I’ll signal you that I’m in place and that the coast is clear. If at any time I see problems, I’ll alert the other element members and extract by the secondary route. I don’t make contact with the precious cargo, but provide cover for the rendezvous, and the withdrawal. Once the precious cargo is safely in the water, I’ll abandon the overwatch position, link up with my swim buddy, and we withdraw from the objective area together.”
“And once you send the All clear,’ the rest of us will move toward the rendezvous point,” Ramey continued. “Fazel on the left, Phillips and I are on the right. Fazel and Phillips establish a security perimeter while I make contact and establish the assets’ bona fides. The pass phrases are typical CIA, cutesy, but simple, and they should be sufficient. The phrases are the two stanzas from the nursery rhyme, ‘Star Light, Star Bright.’ I give the first stanza in Farsi. They respond with the second stanza in English. Harry’s been getting my Farsi up to speed, but since he’s a native speaker I’ll want his ears close to me just in case there’s an issue. Once we are sure of whom we have, I’ll fit them with swim bladders and Petty Officer Phillips and I get them into the water. We’ll conduct a surface swim back out to the ASDS, which hopefully will be able to get closer. The main concern is the water temperature. The latest data shows the surface water running about sixty-seven degrees Fahrenheit, a bit chilly for civilians.”
Special Warfare Operator Second Class Heydar “Harry” Fazel was the team’s medic, a hospital corpsman second class and the next senior after Lapointe. Every SEAL mission included a medical specialist, and Fazel’s skills would have made him a physician’s assistant in the civilian world. Although a medic, he would be armed to the teeth like the other members of the extraction team. “I cover left and stand by in case you need translation, but stay close enough to Pointy to lend assistance as needed.” Fazel was a first-generation American, born in the U.S. after his parents had fled the Iranian Revolution in 1979.
“After the Boss, Philly and the precious
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