By sheer coincidence, John Clark had arranged for The Campus operators to train with MJK operators for exactly this kind of mission just two hours away. The Norwegian government wouldn’t allow the MJK to aid in the assault, but Clark called in a few chits and arranged for the Møvik—a Swedish-built CB90-class fast-assault craft—to drop the team off. After that, they were on their own.

The hastily devised plan was that both Campus teams would scale the ladders at the same time and make a simultaneous assault on three of the four buildings on the rig, taking out bad guys along the way. Jack’s team would take the front of the platform. Midas and Adara would go for the crew’s quarters, where the hostages were probably kept, while Jack cleared the control room, after which he’d drive toward the machine shop. On the back side of the rig, Ding’s two-man team would first assault the drilling and process modules, where the explosives were undoubtedly positioned. After clearing them, they would support the assault on the crew’s quarters or machine shop as needed. Each team would drive toward the center of the facility, herding any surviving GAF fighters into the middle and forcing them to surrender—or die.

At least, that was the plan.

They all agreed that clear and constant communication was key to their success. No telling what the real situation was on the rig or the precise number of either terrorists or hostages.

Their biggest challenge tonight beyond the hellish weather was their limited firepower. Each team member carried the same two suppressed weapons systems: short-barreled SIG Sauer MPX submachine guns and SIG Sauer P229 pistols, both in nine-millimeter. They couldn’t use larger calibers for fear of overpenetration, and explosives or even flash-bang grenades were out of the question in the highly flammable environment. Brains, brawn, and steady hands were their only force multipliers. Given the makeup of the team, Jack figured that was good enough.

The bow of the Zodiac dipped as Midas throttled down. That told Jack they were close. The rolling swells kept the boat rocking violently, but not so badly that Jack couldn’t raise his hands to finally clear his NVGs. The boat was just a few yards away from the platform ladder now. He could barely make out the other Zodiac on the far side of the rig. The sleet turned to thick flakes of snow, reducing the value of the NVGs to nearly zero now.

“Ten seconds,” Midas whispered in the comms.

“Rog . . . Go . . . op,” Ding replied.

“Say . . .” Midas whispered.

No reply.

“What’s wrong?” Jack spoke into his comms.

He saw Midas’s lips move but didn’t hear anything in his earpiece.

Comms down!

As soon as Jack thought it, Midas was already switching to hand signals.

This was going to be an old-school op for sure.