Inside Out

10

New York, New York

Herman Hoffman sat in the communications room of his six-story building studying a pile of satellite pictures, one by one, on the counter in front of him. The shots were so critical to intelligence that the entire operation had hinged on getting them. From here on in, this was all going to be as simple as connecting numbered dots.

He held a magnifying glass above the first print to examine the detail. He could barely contain his excitement, as he could clearly see two men standing between the surf and the house. He lifted that one from the stack and carefully laid it facedown on the pile to his right.

He set the magnifying glass down on the print and rubbed his eyes. “We have a lot to do, Ralph,” Herman said. “They have selected one hell of a safe house-one hell of a safe house, indeed.”

“Cherry Point is twenty-six miles away. It's a Marine air rework base, but they've added active air power.” Ralph slipped a picture of the base from the left stack: The tarmac was replete with war birds. “There are SEALs training near there. Since that isn't a SEAL training area, I think they're there to add cover for the WITSEC operation.”

Herman was elated. “The more secure they imagine they are, the more complacent they will be, Ralph. That will work to our advantage. Whether they sit tight or leave, this is checkmate. They will stay on that island until Thursday or a little bird will let us know of any changes. I can't count the times I've had far less time to mount far more complicated operations, with far less intelligence to go on.”

Herman opened a notebook and studied the equipment inventory carefully. Everything was in hand. The signature of his quartermaster assured him that everything would be waiting at the staging area. He had to be certain he didn't miss anything-one missing object, no matter how small, and the consequences could be catastrophic. This operation would be his masterpiece, even though he would never get the recognition for it. When ops went right, someone else always got the credit.

“How do you feel?” Herman asked Ralph.

“Sir?”

“In your gut. How do you feel?”

“Fine.”

“Are you nervous? Any unease? Premonitions?”

“Nothing at all.”

“And the others? Focused? Eager? Chomping at the bit?”

“Sure.”

Herman closed the notebook and stood up. He felt like a hunter at wood's edge, ready to release his dogs.