Option Delta Read online

  In six spectacular New York Times bestsellers, covert-combat master Richard Marcinko has blown the lid off the classified world of SpecWar ops. Now, the commando’s credo “kill-or-be-killed” is pushed to the brink in a shattering new conflict . . . .

  The Rogue Warrior is invading Germany with a blitzkrieg of bravado. His secret assignment: recover a pair of U.S. ADMs—Atomic Demolition Munitions—lost in the Rhine Valley. Yet, what begins as a simple SEAL mission explodes when terrorists visit the cache site. With military tensions igniting all over the world, America’s diplomatic priorities are everywhere but Eastern Europe—and the Rogue Warrior must take matters into his own hands.

  But not even Marcinko is aware that a cabal of ultranational extremists—led by Lothar Beck, a billionaire defense contractor—is ready to use Germany’s stockpiled Cold War nuclear weapons to carve out Europe’s first superpower, a true Fourth Reich. Fortunately the Rogue Warrior has some firepower of his own, and the manpower to deliver it with maximum prejudice and extreme efficiency. He and his elite SEALs will have to wade through tango cells of skinheads, neo-Nazis, Russian mobsters, and Middle Eastern terrorists before they get the scent of the real powerbrokers. But once they do, it’s time to go hunting—with no bag limit.

  “Dick Marcinko is the real McCoy, a warrior who has lived it.

  —Stephen Coonts

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  http://www.SimonandSchuster.com

  RICHARD MARCINKO retired from the Navy as a full commander after more than thirty years of service. He currently lives in the Alexandria, Virginia area, where he is CEO of SOS Temps Inc., his private security firm whose clients are governments and corporations, and Richard Marcinko Inc., a motivational training and team-building company. He’s also designing Crossroads Training and Development Center at Freedom, Indiana. He is the author of The Rogue Warrior ® ’s Strategy for Success: A Commando’s Principles of Winning, and the four-month New York Times business bestseller Leadership Secrets of the Rogue Warrior: A Commando’s Guide to Success. In addition to his bestselling autobiography, Rogue Warrior, he is coauthor, with John Weisman, of the New York Times bestselling novels Rogue Warrior: Red Cell, Rogue Warrior: Green Team, Rogue Warrior: Task Force Blue, Rogue Warrior: Designation Gold, and Rogue Warrior: Seal Force Alpha.

  JOHN WEISMAN is one of the select company of writers to have both fiction and nonfiction works on the New York Times bestseller lists. He is the author of more than a dozen books, including the well-received novels Evidence and Blood Cries, and the nonfiction bestseller Shadow Warrior, the biography of CIA agent Felix Rodriguez. His much-acclaimed short story, ”There Are Monsterim,“ was selected for inclusion in the Best American Mystery Stories: 1997, edited by Robert B. Parker. For the past half decade, Weisman has been informally associated with the Heckler & Koch International Training Division, where he war-games many of the scenarios for these novels. He, his wife, and their three dogs live in the Blue Ridge mountains of Virginia. John Weisman can be reached on the Internet at [email protected].

  DON’T MISS ANY OF THE RELENTLESS ACTION FOUND IN THE ROGUE WARRIOR ® SERIES BY #1 NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLING AUTHORS

  RICHARD MARCINKO and JOHN WEISMAN

  ROGUE WARRIOR

  ROGUE WARRIOR: RED CELL

  ROGUE WARRIOR: GREEN TEAM

  ROGUE WARRIOR: TASK FORCE BLUE

  ROGUE WARRIOR: DESIGNATION GOLD

  ROGUE WARRIOR: SEAL FORCE ALPHA

  ROGUE WARRIOR: OPTION DELTA

  All available in paperback from Atria Books

  AND BY RICHARD MARCINKO

  LEADERSHIP SECRETS OF THE ROGUE WARRIOR

  and

  THE ROGUE WARRIOR’S STRATEGY FOR SUCCESS

  Available in trade paperback from Atria Books

  AND LOOK FOR

  THE REAL TEAM

  True Stories of the Real-Life SEALs Featured in the Rogue Warrior Series Available in hardcover from Atria Books and

  ROGUE WARRIOR: ECHO PLATOON

  Available now from Atria Books

  “IN A FIELD OF WANNA-BES, MARCINKO IS THE REAL THING: COMBAT VETERAN, KILLER SEAL, SPECIALIST IN UNCONVENTIONAL WARFARE.”

  —WASHINGTON TIMES

  PRAISE FOR RICHARD MARCINKO AND THE ROGUE WARRIOR® SERIES

  ROGUE WARRIOR: SEAL FORCE ALPHA

  “Entertaining.... Marcinko and his team handle, with gusto, both enemies without and traitors within, using their wits, a staggering array of weapons, and an obvious appetite for violence.”

  —Kirkus Reviews

  “Authentic.... This action-filled novel is a genuine thriller, one that keeps the reader in suspense throughout.”

  —The Free Lance-Star (Fredericksburg, VA)

  ROGUE WARRIOR: DESIGNATION GOLD

  “Marcinko and Weisman add new plot ingredients and push them to the limits of military technology.... Half the fun is Marcinko’s erudite commentary on the incompetence of U.S. military services, the complex and ultimately frustrating mechanics of international politics, and the manly art of protecting your ass.”

  —Playboy

  “The salty soldier of fortune raises enough homicidal hell to get himself expelled from Russia.... Hard-hitting.”

  —Kirkus Reviews

  ROGUE WARRIOR: TASK FORCE BLUE

  “Heart-pounding, white-knuckle, pure adrenaline action.... The fast-paced Mission: Impossible–style plot rockets along like a high-octane action movie.... Agreat book.”

  —Beaumont Enterprise (TX)

  “Extremely lively.... Not for the squeamish, politically correct, or saintly....”

  —Lincoln Journal-Star (NE)

  ROGUE WARRIOR: GREEN TEAM

  “Marcinko... and his hard-bitten Seal colleagues . . . come through, filling the memorably fast-paced yarn with vivid, hardware-laden detail.”

  —Booklist

  “Liberally sprinkled with raw language and graphic descriptions of mayhem, Rogue Warrior: Green Team is the literary equivalent of professional wrestling.”

  —Detroit Free Press

  ROGUE WARRIOR: RED CELL

  “[A] bawdy action novel.... Rogue Warrior: Red Cell never stops to take a breath.”

  —The New York Times Book Review

  “A chilling, blood and guts, no-nonsense look into clandestine military operations told like it should be told. It doesn’t come more powerful than this.”

  —Clive Cussler

  ROGUE WARRIOR

  “For sheer readability, Rogue Warrior leaves Tom Clancy waxed and booby-trapped.”

  —Robert Lipsyte, Los Angeles Times Book Review

  “Fascinating.... Marcinko... makes Arnold Schwarzenegger look like Little Lord Fauntleroy.”

  —The New York Times Book Review

  “Blistering honesty.... Marcinko is one tough Navy commando.”

  —San Francisco Chronicle

  “Marcinko was too loose a cannon for the U.S. Navy.... Rogue Warrior is not a book for the faint of heart.”

  —People

  THE ROGUE WARRIOR’S STRATEGY FOR SUCCESS

  “Picture Rambo in pinstripes.... Marcinko’s style is inspirational; his (literal) war stories are entertaining; and sprinkled throughout are useful business insights.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  LEADERSHIP SECRETS OF THE ROGUE WARRIOR

  “Look out, Bill Gates....”

  —USA Today

  “Bracing, gutsy, tough-talking, empowering.... Should be required reading for managers who want to weed out prima donnas, transform the lazy, and motivate the troops.”

  —Publishers Weekly

  “Fun to read....”

  —The Money Review

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  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the authors’ imaginations, or are used fictitiously. Operational details have been altered so as not to betray current SpecWar techniques.

  Many of the Rogue Warrior’s weapons courtesy of Heckler & Koch, Inc., International Training Division, Sterling, Virginia

  An Atria Book published by

  ATRIA BOOKS, a division of Simon & Schuster Inc.

  1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020

  www.SimonandSchuster.com

  Copyright © 1999 by Richard Marcinko and John Weisman

  Originally published in hardcover in 1999 by Atria Books

  All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever. For information address Atria Books, 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020

  ISBN: 0-671-00073-X

  First Atria Books paperback printing January 2000

  ATRIA BOOKS and colophon are registered trademarks of Simon & Schuster Inc.

  ROGUE WARRIOR is a registered trademark of Richard Marcinko

  Cover art by Franco Accornero Author photos by Roger Foley

  ISBN-13: 978-1-4516-9311-9 (ebook)

  In memory of Col. Arthur “Bull” Simons, USA (Ret.), Warrior and Patriot

  The Rogue Warrior® Series

  by Richard Marcinko and John Weisman

  Rogue Warrior

  Rogue Warrior: Red Cell

  Rogue Warrior: Green Team

  Rogue Warrior: Task Force Blue

  Rogue Warrior: Designation Gold

  Rogue Warrior: SEAL Force Alpha

  Rogue Warrior: Option Delta

  Rogue Warrior: The Real Team

  Also by Richard Marcinko

  Leadership Secrets of the Rogue Warrior

  The Rogue Warrior’s Strategy for Success

  Also by John Weisman

  Fiction

  Blood Cries

  Watchdogs

  Evidence

  Nonfiction

  Shadow Warrior (with Felix Rodriguez)

  Anthologies

  Unusual Suspects (edited by James Grady)

  The Best American Mystery Stories of 1997

  (edited by Robert B. Parker)

  History has shown that the Germans can be dangerous opponents. If it weren’t for the fact that they have such a madman as a leader, we’d be in even more desperate straits than we are. But madmen, you see, will always self-destruct in the end. That is why we will not fail. That is why we will win the day.

  —WINSTON CHURCHILL, 1941

  THE ROGUE WARRIOR’S

  TEN COMMANDMENTS OF SPECWAR

  • I am the War Lord and the wrathful God of Combat and I will always lead you from the front, not the rear.

  • I will treat you all alike—just like shit.

  • Thou shalt do nothing I will not do first, and thus will you be created Warriors in My deadly image.

  • I shall punish thy bodies because the more thou sweatest in training, the less thou bleedest in combat.

  • Indeed, if thou hurteth in thy efforts and thou suffer painful dings, then thou art Doing It Right.

  • Thou hast not to like it—thou hast just to do it.

  • Thou shalt Keep It Simple, Stupid.

  • Thou shalt never assume.

  • Verily, thou art not paid for thy methods, but for thy results, by which meaneth thou shalt kill thine enemy by any means available before he killeth you.

  • Thou shalt, in thy Warrior’s Mind and Soul, always remember My ultimate and final Commandment. There Are No Rules—Thou Shalt Win at All Cost.

  Inhaltsverzeichnis

  (Contents)

  Abschnitt Eins (Part One)

  Abschnitt Zwei (Part Two)

  Abschnitt Drei (Part Three)

  Glossar (Glossary)

  Index (Index)

  ABSCHNITT

  EINS

  1

  GOD, HOW I DO LOVE BEING COLD AND WET. AND IT IS lucky that I do, because cold, and wet (not to mention tired, hungry, and suffering from terminal lack o’ pussy), is precisely how I have spent a large portion of my professional life. Take my present situation. (Oh, yes indeed. Please, take my present situation. All of it. Each and every molecule. Every single fucking bit.)

  And exactly what was my current situation, you ask? Well, to be precise, I was one of four SEALs crammed inside a spherical steel tank built for two—we’re talking roughly eight feet high by five feet in diameter—in total blackness, squashed atop and against the three similarly chilly and claustrophobic occupants, and clinging to a ladder attached to the side of the cylinder so I wasn’t stepping on the head of the man below me. Just to make things interesting, cold seawater from several vents was being pumped into the tank. Currently the water was at crotch level, and it was frigid enough to shrink my Rogue-sized balls to hazelnuts, even through a thick, black neoprene foam wet suit, which covered me head to toe.

  I waited quietly, patiently, until the tank was completely filled. As the water came in, I could hear the air as it escaped through the collar of the air bubble hood manifold above me. Under what might be called normal circumstances, I could have monitored our progress on the chamber’s interior pressure and air gauges courtesy of the two waterproof battle lanterns that are mounted six feet above the bottom hatch cover. But Mister Murphy (of Murphy’s Law fame), or one of his Murphyesque minions, had already decided that light was an unacceptable component of the night’s activity, and thus he had caused the lanterns to malfunction as soon as the bottom hatch had been sealed, the pressure equalized, and the water begun to flow.

  Even so, I might have followed the action by using my waterproof flashlight. But my waterproof flashlight was safely stowed in my equipment bag. And my equipment bag was being transported on the fucking deck of the fucking nuclear attack submarine on which I was currently a passenger, lashed to a cleat behind the sail, where I would retrieve it after I’d completed lockout.

  Under normal circumstances, we wouldn’t even have been in this particular fucking sewer pipe, which is how SEALs refer to subs. We’d have been aboard one of the retrofitted SpecOps craft, attack subs that have been specially outfitted for us shoot-and-looters. We’d have had the advantage of Mark-V SDVs, or swimmer delivery vehicles, which are carried on the decks of SpecWar subs in bulbous clamshell devices called DSS, or dry-dock shelters. But there are only three such boats available, given the current drawdown to our 296-ship, twenty-first-century Navy. And so, we’d had to make do with what was on hand. Which was, to be precise, the USS Nacogdoches (SSN 767), a third-generation Los Angeles-class U-boat, equipped to kill other subs, launch Tomahawk missiles, lay mines, wage electronic warfare, and do many other, sundry top secret tasks. But the list did not include the capacity to accommodate and launch eight SEALs and all their equipment on a clandestine mission.

  The result, as you can probably guess, meant that we’d had to jury-rig everything from our sleeping quarters (we’d hot-bunked in the forward torpedo room with the Tomahawk missiles, Mark 48 ADCAP—ADvanced CAPability—torpedoes, and Mark 67 SLMMs—Submarine Launched Mobile Mines), to having to store our weapons and other gear outside the sub, as the escape hatches were too narrow to allow us to exit with anything more than our Draeger LAR-V rebreathers. Even our method of egress was nonreg. SSNs have two escape trunks. This one (known formally as the stores hatch, because it was where the ship’s stores are commonly on-loaded) was the most forward trunk. It was located just aft of the control room and abutted the triple-thick insulated, lead-shielded wall surrounding the nuclear reactor compartment.

  SSNs modified for SpecWar have enlarged esca
pe trunks so that SEAL platoons, which number sixteen, can lock out quickly. Unmodified SSN escape trunks are, as I have just pointed out, built for two men at a time. But given the parameters of my current mission, which included the necessity of a quick exit, I’d changed the rules. And so, we were locking out four at a time. Which currently gave the escape tank the crowded ambience of a frat-house telephone booth during a cram-the-pledges contest.

  Thus, I stood immobile in the darkness, teeth chomped tight on my Draeger mouthpiece, trying not to stick my size ten triple-Rogue foot in Gator Shepard’s size normal face, while trying my best to stay out of range of Boomerang’s bony elbow (he has a nasty habit of flailing his arm like a chicken’s wing when he’s under stress), running and rerunning the night’s schedule in my head. Oh, yes, it was much easier problem solving than thinking about my iced-down nuts and my other chill-packed nether parts. And so I stood there in the cold and the wet, anticipating everything that can, could, will, would, shall, should, may, might, or must go wrong, so I’d be able to outwit Command Master Chief Murphy who, experience has shown, likes to tag along on these kinds of ops.

  Finally, I sensed the water flow had stopped. When I was positive no air remained in the escape chamber, I flexed my shoulders, worked the cramp out of my neck, and then started to pull myself toward the steel ladder bolted to the escape trunk bulkhead. I knew that I had to climb three rungs, then reach above my head in the total blackness to the spot my mind’s eye had muscle-memoried as being the first of the six dogs that secured the trunk’s outer hatch cover.

  Wham! My action was interrupted by a rude elbow (or other sundry Boomerang body part—it was dark after all, and who could really tell), which smashed into the right side of my temple. I went face first into the ladder rail and saw goddamn stars. Belay that. I saw the whole Milky fucking Way. Oh shit. Oh fuck. Oh, doom on Dickie. Which, as you probably know, means I was being fuckee-fuckeed in Vietnamese.