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elite warriors, the best of the best of the best. Usually any American or allied force was happy to see them show up. They were used to being greeted, if not with downright awe, then at least with a certain measure of respect. Not that they needed that or sought it out in any way; they could care less what people thought of them. Bred into them from Day 1 was to get the job done with a minimum of fanfare. But this type of reception was certainly unusual and definitely did not go unnoticed.
    “What’s the problem?” Maddock asked. “Admiral Liptow notified you about our mission, right?”
    The coordinator removed his glasses and stepped closer to Maddock. “My problem is not with you SEALs, personally, sir. It’s with your orders.”
    “How much do you know about our orders, sir? Our mission is classified Top Secret.”
    “I don’t know the details, but I know that your orders are to investigate the wreck of the Wilhelm Gustloff .”
    “Among other Russian and German sites, that is correct.”
    “You’re looking for something.” He paused as if hoping the statement would prompt additional information, but neither Maddock nor his three cohorts ventured anything forth. The officer shifted tack.
    “I understand that I am duty bound to assist you in achieving your objectives. I do not intend to stand in your way. But I need you to understand that there is an extremely sensitive exercise operation underway now. Some of these Baltic nations would prefer it if we weren’t here at all, and having a bunch of cowboys kicking around on a sacred war grave isn’t going to endear us to the locals.”
    The mention of a tomb struck a chord with all four SEALs. They knew the grim story of the Wilhelm Gustloff from their briefing materials. A missile from a Soviet submarine sent the German cruise ship to a watery grave on the bottom of the Baltic Sea on January 30, 1945. She was carrying about 9,000 souls, Germans evacuating in advance of the approaching Red Army, making it easily the most deadly shipwreck in history. By comparison, the wreck of the better known Titanic claimed about 1,500 lives. The ship now lay in 150 feet of water, a depth within reach for many SCUBA divers, and especially for SEALs.
    “Rest assured that we’ll disturb the wreck as little as possible, hopefully not at all.” Maddock looked at his fellow SEALs who nodded solemnly.
    “You’re looking for the Amber Room, aren’t you?”
    Maddock put on his best poker face but there was no hiding the looks of surprise on Willis and Professor’s faces. But Maddock was nonchalant.
    “Will you be diving the wreck with us, sir?”
    The officer shook his head. “Negative. Two of my divers are available to provide underwater support, per your request, but I personally will not be one of them.”
    “Then we can neither confirm nor deny the exact nature of the dive’s objective, sir. Our orders are to report here for logistical assistance with the dive. We will personally brief your support divers, who will be granted the necessary clearance for the information they require to assist us.”
    The officer’s face reddened somewhat but he seemed to calm himself. “That’s fine. I doubt you’ll find much down there, anyway. The wreck is pretty well picked over by now, and almost all of it isn’t even intact anymore, it’s just scattered ruins.”
    “Orders are orders,” Professor chimed in. “Whatever state it’s in, we’ve got to check it out. What about the SDVs—you’ve got those?”
    The officer turned and pointed to a recessed section of deck with a retractable roof that was currently open. “Two SEAL Delivery Vehicles at your disposal.”
    Professor nodded his approval. SDVs were basically “wet subs,” sort of like giant underwater scooters that up to three scuba divers could ride in or on, but they did not provide an enclosed and dry, air-filled environment like a traditional submarine or submersible. They were designed to enable SEAL scuba