My head pops out of a 1920s Greco-Turkish War military bunker atop a cliff side on the Greek island of Lesbos. It’s 35 degrees and the wind off the waves of the Aegean in front of me chills to the bone. Armed with a thermal imaging scope I scan the water. The mountains of Turkey tower just above the horizon. I see a coast guard ship, a freighter, a ferry, but not what I’m looking for. No dinghies tonight. Not yet.
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