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But this will be no routine deployment. Horn will be the first US Navy warship ever to deploy with an integrated male and female crew-a controversial and politically explosive experiment that will raise questions about morale, behavior, training, sexual attraction, and ultimately, performance under fire. Facing sandstorms, smugglers, and ambushes, Horn's increasingly polarized crew will conduct demanding, diplomatically sensitive search-and-seizure operations against foreign vessels attempting to smuggle arms to Iraq. But the real nightmare's brewing in Bahrain. There, the most dangerous bomb expert in Al-Qaeda has targeted Horn for attack- as the first step in a plan to redraw the map of the whole Middle East.
With gripping action scenes and an explosive climax, The Command continues Dan Lenson's star-crossed career in a series that explores both global and deeply personal implications of honor, duty, power, and war.
Combat, the transmission had ceased. The bands hissed like an empty conch shell. “Give them a call,” he told Camill. “Unidentified craft, this is U.S. Navy warship. Identify yourself.” No response. They called again, then put Barkhat on. No one answered him, either. One of the trackers reported the contact was coming right. After a smooth wide turn, it steadied up. Running its new course out, Dan saw it was heading for Egyptian territorial waters. Where neither he nor any other U.S. unit could
killed. He wanted to be taken off. The cat had to come, too. “You say there’s something aboard, huh? Contraband?” “What?” “Something smuggled? What is it—oil?” “Not oil.” Rashik’s nose wrinkled in contempt. “These are American cigarette? They don’t taste. Is tobacco in them?” “Work with me, I’ll work with you.” Eventually they got down to what it was: pipes. Rashik said he’d seen them being lowered into the after hold late one night. “Pipes” sounded harmless, but when Cassidy reported it to
released, all primary plans.” “Shoot,” McCall said. “Salvo firing commence,” said the chief. The launch controller mashed the button. A double slam, then a roar bellowed through Horn’s superstructure as the cell and uptake hatches whacked open and the booster ignited. Dan visioned what was happening forward. The missile bouncing up from its cell, then seeming to slow; teetering tail-down, balancing gooney-awkward on a cone of orange-white fire and bleached-out smoke. As it passed three hundred
street-front café across from the Guday-biya Palace as cars and Japanese-made trucks roared past in the early rush. Despite the traffic it was pleasant on Bani Otbah. Palms swept the far side of the palace wall, fronds swaying in a sea wind that down here, between the buildings, he could not feel. Across a wide avenue the glass stories of a new hotel flashed in the sun. Its angular façade contrasted oddly with the ornate domes and needling towers of the emir’s palace. Younger men in Western
battle of Yarmuk. He walked on, noting with hate the flaunting of their gaudy flag. The only weapon he saw, however, was a cannon, and it did not seem large. There must be other weapons, hidden. He saw no sentries other than those at the metal bridge. And in the inflatable boat; but he didn’t see it now. He turned away, and climbed the steps into the hull of the cruise ship. He asked if the captain would be interested in hiring a well-qualified physician. After some time he was told the ship