AT 9:05 A.M. on the 10th of November, a hush fell over the leaden turbulence of the Bosporus. All activity on the strait ceased.
Coast Guard ships, ferries and caiques, like the younger members of a tribe of large marine mammals, drew close in a circle.
Behind them, a Turkish destroyer kept vigil, the blue of its gunmetal merging with the strait’s frigid waters. A red-bottomed freighter marked with the words “Iraqi line” hulked in the background.
That cityscape of sea-blackened buildings, broad panes glazed silver in the daytime darkness, was no ordinary Left Bank, no mere farther shore.