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"You have another problem," said Pitt.
"Go ahead."
"The Lady Flamborough's navigation radar can be tuned for aircraft. Your Carrier Pigeons may have low profiles, but they can be read on a screen in time for the hijackers to prepare a nasty reception party."
"So much for surprise from the air," said Dillenger morosely.
Hollis looked at Findley. "any adverse conditions we should know about for an assault from the fjord?"
Findley smiled faintly. "You should have an easier time than the Major.
You'll enjoy the advantage of frost smoke."
"Frost smoke?"
"Foglike clouds formed from the contact of cold air with warmer water near the glacial wall. It can rise anywhere from two to ten meters.
Combined with the certain rain, your dive team should be cloaked from the time they begin their approach until they climb onto the decks."
"One of us gets a bit of luck after all," said Dillenger.
Hollis nabbed his chin thoughtfully. "We're not dealing with a textbook operation here. It could Turn real messy if the air drop is a foul-up.
All surprise would be lost, and without it the twenty-man dive team isn't strong enough to engage forty armed hijackers without support."
"Since it's suicidal for your men to parachute onto the ship," said Pitt, "why not drop them farther up the glacier?
from there they can make their way to the edge, and then rappel down ropes onto the main deck."
"We'd be looking at an easy descent," agreed Dillenger. The ice wall is above the ship's superstructure and near enough for us to clear the gap."
Hollis nodded and said, "The thought crossed my mind. any one see an obstacle with this tactict'
"Your biggest danger, as I see it," said Gunn, "is the glacier itself.
It can have an endless labyrinth of crevasses and treacherous snow crusts that give way under a man's weight. You'll have to take it slow and damned careful crossing it."
"any other comment?" There was none. Hollis gave a side glance to Dillenger. "How much time will you'require from air drop to attack readiness?"
"It would help if I knew wind velocity and direction."
"Nine days out of ten it blows from the southeast," answered Findley.
"Average velocity is about ten kilometers an hour, but it can easily gust to a hundred."
Dillenger stared pensively for a few moments at the small mountains rising behind the glacier. He tried to visualize the scene at night, sense the severity of the wind. He ticked off the time inside his head.
Then he looked up.
"Forty to forty-five minutes from air drop to ship assault."
"Pardon me for telling you your job, Major," said Pitt. "But you're cutting it too fine."
Findley nodded. "I agree. I've hiked the glacier on many occasions.
The ice ridges make it slow going."
In a smooth, greased movement, Dillenger pulled a long, wicked-looking Bowie knife, angled between hilt and blade, from a sheath behind his back and used the spiked tip as a pointer. 'The way I see it, we'll make our jump on the backside of the mountain to the right of the glacier. This should hide our C-140 transport from the ship's radar.
