Search and Rescue

[Jay]

OPERATION DENİZYILANI
Security Classification: RESTRICTED

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RESPONDING AGENCIES

Republic of Türkiye — Turkish Armed Forces Overall SAR Mission Commander: Vice Adm. Mustafa Zeki Uğurlu, Commander of Northern Fleet On-Scene Commander (OSC): Capt. Serhat Kılıçarslan, TCG Alanya (D-601) Air Component Coordinator: Lt. Col. Deniz Aksoy, 92. Filo "Denizyılanı" SAR Mission Coordinator (SMC), shore-based: Rear Adm. Ayla Demirtaş, Maritime Rescue Coordination Center (MRCC) İstanbul Civilian Component Sahil Güvenlik (Turkish Coast Guard) — Northern Aegean/Marmara Command AFAD (Disaster and Emergency Management Authority) — Marine SAR & mass casualty module Türk Kızılay (Turkish Red Crescent) — survivor reception, triage support, family liaison DHMİ (State Airports Authority) — Istanbul Airport emergency reception, family assistance area

ORDER OF OPERATIONS

92. Filo "Denizyılanı" — A Flight

• x 2 Dassault Rafale M
  • x 4 pilots
  • Role: first-on-scene visual/IR confirmation of debris field and datum
  • Fuel Reserves 100%
  • Armament: air-to-air self-defense loadout only
  • Sensors: FSO front sector optronics, RBE2-AA AESA radar (surface search mode)

19th Squadron Anti-Submarine Warfare Squadron

• x 2 Lockheed Martin P-8A Poseidon
  • x 18 pilots and crew
  • Role: expanding-square search pattern overhead datum, sonobuoy field if ditching suspected, relay comms between OSC and MRCC
  • Fuel Reserves 100%, endurance ~10 hrs on-station capable
  • Sensors: APY-10 surface search radar, EO/IR turret, sonobuoy dispensers (passive only for this tasking)

23rd Squadron Anti-Submarine Warfare Squadron

• x 5 MH-60 Seahawk
  • x 20 pilots and crew
  • Role: low-altitude visual search, rescue swimmer deployment, survivor hoist recovery
  • Fuel Reserves 100%
  • Equipment: rescue hoist (600 lb capacity), 2x rescue swimmers per airframe, basket litters, inflatable life rafts (drop-capable)
  • Medical: trauma bag, AED, oxygen, spinal immobilization board per aircraft

Northern Fleet Surface Assets

• FREMM-Class Frigate — TCG Alanya (D-601)
  • x 200 Sailors (complement)
  • Fuel Reserves 100%, full marine diesel + JP-5 for embarked rotary-wing ops
  • Food & Water: 3-month supply, desalination operational
  • Medical: surgical suite, trauma bay, 2 medical officers, medevac deck
  • Role: OSC platform, embarked helicopter operations, survivor reception and stabilization, sonar search of ditching area if required
• G-Class Frigate (Oliver Hazard Perry-type) — TCG Yavuz (F-240)
  • x 222 Sailors (complement)
  • Fuel Reserves 100%
  • Medical: sick bay, 1 medical officer
  • Role: secondary search platform, perimeter/traffic control of civilian vessels entering datum area, additional survivor capacity

Sahil Güvenlik (Turkish Coast Guard) — Tasked Assets

• x 2 SAR-capable patrol cutters (nearest available stations)
  • Role: close-in search, small-craft maneuverability for wreckage/debris recovery, first civilian medical reception
• x 1 SAR helicopter (AW139 or equivalent, if within range)
  • Role: additional hoist capacity, medevac shuttle to shore

Civilian Vessels Diverted to Datum

• Nearest merchant/commercial vessels within MRCC İstanbul's plot, tasked under standard master's obligation to render assistance
  • Role: eyes-on search while military assets transit, temporary survivor shelter if numbers exceed military capacity, relay of sightings to MRCC
  • No armament, no specialized SAR equipment assumed — treated as force multiplier for visual search only

KISITLI ARAMA KURTARMA OPERASYONU This document pertains to an active maritime search and rescue response coordinated by Turkish Armed Forces, Sahil Güvenlik, AFAD, and supporting civilian agencies. Distribution limited to tasked units and coordinating authorities. ​

RESTRICTED​ Concept of Operations (CONOPS):​ PHASE I – (H+0 to H+1)​ MRCC İstanbul received loss-of-contact notification from Istanbul Approach following KLM1959's last transmission at 41.72393, 28.32074. SMC declares INCERFA escalating immediately to DETRESFA given confirmed emergency squawk, engine fire, and subsequent radar/comms loss. Datum calculated from last radar position, reported heading 135°, and last known altitude/descent profile; search area expanded per standard drift/current modeling for the Marmara Sea. 92. Filo "Denizyılanı" A Flight (2x Rafale) scrambled from nearest aviation unit for immediate visual reconnaissance of datum. PHASE II – ON-SCENE ARRIVAL & SEARCH PATTERN INITIATION (H+1 to H+3)​ Rafale flight confirms visual on debris field/oil sheen or, alternatively, confirms negative surface contact — relays to OSC and MRCC. P-8A Poseidon aircraft arrive on station, establish expanding-square search pattern centered on datum, deploy passive sonobuoy field if ditching (vs. crash) is suspected. MH-60 Seahawks conduct low-level visual search concurrent with P-8 overwatch. TCG Alanya (D-601) and TCG Yavuz (F-240) transit at maximum sustained speed toward datum; ETA calculated at 27 kt (Alanya) and 29 kt (Yavuz) respectively. MRCC İstanbul broadcasts urgent marine warning (AMVER-equivalent) tasking nearby civilian/merchant vessels to divert and assist per master's obligation. PHASE III – SURVIVOR LOCALIZATION & RECOVERY (H+2 to H+8)​ Confirmed survivor locations marked and prioritized by MH-60 rescue swimmers; hoist recovery to helicopter or nearest surface vessel, whichever is faster. Sahil Güvenlik cutters and tasked civilian vessels recover survivors and debris within their search sectors, coordinating position reports through MRCC. TCG Alanya's medical suite designated primary casualty collection point; triage categories (immediate/delayed/minor/expectant) assigned on arrival. TCG Yavuz and Coast Guard cutters serve as secondary collection points if survivor numbers exceed Alanya's capacity. Continuous position logging of all recovered personnel (survivor/deceased) for family notification chain. PHASE IV – MEDEVAC & SHORE TRANSFER (H+4 to H+10)​ Critical casualties medevac'd directly from TCG Alanya or Coast Guard helicopter to nearest shore trauma facility, bypassing Istanbul Airport if a closer hospital landing zone is available. Stable survivors transferred to Istanbul Airport via Coast Guard/Navy helicopter or by frigate to nearest port, then ground ambulance. AFAD marine SAR module and Türk Kızılay establish reception area at Istanbul Airport for survivor processing, medical screening, and family reunification. PHASE V – WRECKAGE LOCALIZATION & DEBRIS RECOVERY (H+6 onward)​ P-8A sonobuoy data and surface debris drift analysis used to narrow probable main wreckage location. If wreckage is in shallow/accessible water, divers will be requested for black box and structural recovery. PHASE VI – (H+10 to H+24)​ Search assets stood down sequentially once MRCC and OSC confirm no further probability of survivors (POS) in remaining search sectors. Formal handover of the incident from SAR response to accident investigation authority (Turkish Directorate General of Civil Aviation)

END OF DOCUMENT BELGENİN SONU​

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CAMPAIGN REGISTER

Operation	Objective	Status
Operation DENİZYILANI – Phase I: Alert & Datum	Declare DETRESFA, calculate datum from last known position and heading, scramble fastest-response air asset	Completed
Operation DENİZYILANI – Phase II: Search Pattern Initiation	Establish expanding-square search with P-8, MH-60, and surface assets; task civilian vessels via MRCC broadcast	Completed
Operation DENİZYILANI – Phase III: Survivor Localization & Recovery	Locate, triage, and recover survivors via hoist and surface pickup; establish casualty collection point aboard TCG Alanya	Completed
Operation DENİZYILANI – Phase IV: Medevac & Shore Transfer	Transfer critical and stable survivors to shore medical and reception facilities; coordinate family notification	Completed
Operation DENİZYILANI – Phase V: Wreckage Localization & Debris Recovery	Narrow probable wreckage site via sonar/drift analysis; recover debris.	In Progress
Operation DENİZYILANI – Phase VI: Stand-Down & Investigation Handover	Stand down search assets, hand over to civil aviation accident investigation authority, reopen maritime corridor	In Progress

 

[Jay]

SECRET

​

The alarm rang quickly through the airbase as the pilots on standby for that day Lieutentants Kilic Ulas, Yilma Sen, Zeynel Neftci, and Idris Bilici ran out of their station room to a bus downstairs. The bus sped down the tarmac to their parked Rafale M aircrafts.

The sleek fighter gleamed in the fading light and already outfitted with weapons systems and ready for take-off as a quick reaction alert aircraft.

Kilic noticed Yilma rushing to her aircraft, and with a mischievous grin, he called out.

"Hey Yilma, try to not forget to turn on your engines this time."

Yilma shook her head as she put on her helmet and flopped down onto her ejection seat, the crew chief already up on the ladder beside her, hands moving fast over the harness buckles.

"Engines were fine last time, Kilic, it was your radio that was on the wrong frequency," she shot back over the intercom, voice slightly muffled through the mask.

"Details," Kilic said, dropping into his own cockpit two bays down, his crew chief already reaching for the canopy rail.

Below them, the ground crews moved quickly, chocks still in, intake covers being ripped free, the whine of the auxiliary power units rising under each aircraft. Zeynel's canopy was already sliding down. Idris was last off the bus, jogging the final few meters to his jet, one arm still working through his g-suit strap.

"Crew chief clear," Yilma's technician called down, thumping twice on the fuselage before dropping off the ladder.

Tower, Alpha Flight, four aircraft, ready for engine start.

The tower controller responded. "Alpha Flight, Tower, cleared to start engines. Priority track zulu-zulu-zero-zero-one, unidentified, east coast inbound northwest, three-five-thousand feet.

One by one the M88 turbofans spooled up, that low building shriek rolling across the pan. Kilic watched his engine instruments climb through the green and kicked his radio.

"Alpha One, good start, both engines nominal."

"Alpha Two, good start," Yilma called next, already running her hands across the MFDs, radar coming up, datalink syncing to the operations center feed. The track was already ghosted onto her scope, unlabeled, drifting slow and steady toward the coast.

"Alpha Three, good start."

"Alpha Four, good start, standby..." Idris's voice cut off for a second, then came back. "Correction, good start, all systems nominal."

"Alpha Flight, Tower, cleared to taxi, runway two-seven, wind calm." The tower said to the pilots who were already rolling out of their shelters in a loose staggered line, canopies down now, weapons pylons catching the last of the light.

Kilic led them out onto the taxiway, glancing once in his mirror to make sure Yilma was tucked in behind him.
"Try to keep up this time," he said.

"I'm always the one waiting on you, Kilic."

The tower cut back in before he could answer.

"Alpha Flight, hold ready for takeoff runway two-seven. Takeoff clearance pending, awaiting confirmation from Air Force Command Center."

A pause, three, four seconds that stretched longer than they should have, then the controller's voice came again.

"Alpha Flight, Tower, cleared for takeoff. Vector to track zulu-zulu-zero-zero-one and report identification. Be advised we have a reported civilian aircraft that has gone dark. Last known coordinates 41.72393, 28.32074.

Kilic pushed the throttle forward, felt the afterburner light with a shove that pressed him back into the seat.

"Alpha One, rolling."

"Alpha Two, rolling," Yilma echoed a heartbeat later, her jet leaping off the tarmac behind him, gear already coming up before she'd cleared the runway threshold.

Four Rafales climbed out over the darkening water in close formation, noses coming around onto the vector, afterburners cutting out one after another as they settled into their climb.

"Alpha Flight, check," Kilic called.

"Two."

"Three."

"Four, good."

"Tower, Alpha Flight is airborne, proceeding to track, estimated time to identification." He glanced at the countdown ticking on his HUD. "...six minutes over."

Below and behind them, the airbase lights fell away, and somewhere out over the dark water ahead, alpha flight kept flying its slow, silent, unlabeled course north.

​

The bridge of TCG Alanya was quiet except for the soft chatter of the watch team. Captain Serhat Kılıçarslan was going over the morning's intel report for the black sea when the comms officer straightened at his station, one hand pressing his headset tighter against his ear.

"Captain, priority flash traffic from Northern Fleet, Naval Operations Command."

"Read it." Serhat said, walking over to the comms officer.

"All stations, all stations, this is Naval Operations Command. Civilian aircraft, KLM One Niner Five Niner, possible crash, last known position four one point seven two three nine three north, two eight point three two zero seven four east. All available units divert and proceed at best speed. Acknowledge."

The bridge went still for half a second.

"Acknowledge receipt," Kılıçarslan said, already turning toward the helm. "Get me a plot on that position."

"Aye, Captain." The navigator's hands were moving before he'd finished the sentence, calipers walking across the chart even as the position populated on the ECDIS.

"Position confirmed, Captain, bearing zero-two-five relative, range approximately ninety-four nautical miles."

Kılıçarslan didn't hesitate. "Helm, come to course zero-two-five, all ahead flank. Officer of the Deck, sound general quarters for sea and anchor detail, get the flight deck ready to receive the helicopter, and I want the medical suite stood up now, not when we arrive."

"Course zero-two-five, all ahead flank, aye." The helmsman spun the wheel, and beneath their feet the deck began to hum with the deeper note of the gas turbines spooling up past cruise.

"General quarters, aye." The alarm sounded through the ship, and Kılıçarslan heard it echo faintly a moment later over the bridge-to-bridge, TCG Yavuz, a few cables off their port quarter, answering the same call.

"Yavuz acknowledges, Captain, coming to station astern of us, matching course and speed."

"Good." He picked up the bridge phone to the XO, who was already three decks down organizing the medical party. "Bring everyone up to readiness, full triage set. This isn't a drill."

"Understood, Captain, we'll be ready."

The two frigates cut hard through the darkening water, wakes churning white behind them, and within minutes the low grey shape of the Bosphorus opened up ahead, the strait narrowing the world down to a corridor of shoreline lights and slow-moving tanker traffic they now had to thread through at speed.

"Bridge, this is lookout, aircraft, multiple, low altitude, bearing zero-one-zero, crossing right to left."

Kılıçarslan raised his binoculars. Five dark silhouettes, low and fast against the fading sky, the double-rotor-mast profile of Seahawks cutting north over the strait in a loose formation, running lights blinking against the dusk.

His XO had come up to the bridge in time to catch it too, standing at his shoulder now, watching the same patch of sky.

"Where are they heading?" the XO asked.

"Same heading as us, more or less." Kılıçarslan lowered the binoculars slowly. "Is the medical bay ready. Put extra cots and thermals. They will be freezing by the time we arrive."

The XO followed his gaze north, toward where the helicopters had already shrunk to small moving shapes against the darkening horizon. "Already done sir. We are ready."

"Good." Kılıçarslan handed the binoculars off and turned back toward the helm, voice dropping back into the flat, procedural cadence of a man with a great deal of ocean left to cross. "Officer of the Deck, log the sighting, time and bearing. And get me an update from Naval Ops, I want to know if anyone's got eyes on that debris field yet."

Behind them, the lights of Istanbul slid past on both sides as TCG Alanya and TCG Yavuz pushed north through the strait, chasing the same dark stretch of open water the helicopters had already disappeared into.

JamieA

 

[Jay]

RESTRICTED
​

Kilic banked Alpha One in a slow, wide arc, eyes sweeping the darkening water below through the HUD's IR overlay. Nothing. No wake, no wreckage, no drifting light of a life raft strobe.

"Alpha Flight, negative contact along the reported flight path," Kilic radioed. "Repeat, negative contact. Track is clean from datum out to fifteen miles on the reciprocal."

"Copy, Alpha One," MRCC responded. "Continue orbit, P-8 is inbound your position, ETA four minutes."

"Alpha Two, same, nothing on my scope either," Yilma called in. "Water's calm, no debris visible, no oil sheen."

Idris's voice cut in next, tighter than before. "Alpha Four, I've got a flicker on FSO, bearing three-one-zero, range six miles. Could be nothing. Could be a hot spot."

"Alpha Flight, converge on Four's mark," Kilic ordered, already rolling his jet toward the bearing.

Overhead, the lumbering shape of the P-8 Poseidon was closing the gap fast, its own radar sweeping wide arcs across the search box. "Alpha Flight, Poseidon Seven-One, we have a contact matching your bearing, thermal return consistent with surface debris and possible fuel fire residue. Recommend all stations converge grid Kilo-Niner."

"Copy, Seven-One, Alpha Flight inbound your position."

The four Rafales dropped low, throttling back, canopies full of dark water rushing past beneath them. Kilic saw it first, a scattered field of wreckage catching the last of the moonlight, twisted metal, a section of fuselage skin floating half-submerged, and the unmistakable sheen of jet fuel spreading slow and oily across the surface.

"Alpha One, confirmed, crash site located, grid Kilo-Niner. Visual on debris field, multiple pieces, fuselage section visible, negative signs of survivors from this altitude." He circled once, banking hard to keep the site in view. "Relaying coordinates now."

"Copy, Alpha One. Good work. P-8 is on-scene, assuming search coordination."

Kilic keyed back to his flight. "Alpha Flight, there's nothing more we can do up here. Fuel's getting thin, and this isn't our fight anymore. RTB, get turned around for QRA posture in case anyone tries to use this as an opportunity."

"Copy, Alpha Two, RTB."

"Alpha Three, roger."

"Alpha Four, roger, turning."

The four fighters peeled off one by one, afterburners flaring briefly against the dark as they climbed away south, leaving the water and the wreckage behind for slower, more patient hands.

​

The P-8 held station another two hours, sonobuoys splashing down in a wide pattern around the debris field, its crew calling out drift vectors and survivor probability zones to the inbound helicopters. By the time the first Seahawk arrived on scene, Poseidon Seven-One had done its job.

"Two-Three-Alpha, Poseidon Seven-One, handing off search coordination to your flight. Debris field is your One-Zero-Zero relative, two miles. RTB'ing now. Good hunting."

"Copy, Seven-One, thank you for the work. Two-Three-Alpha has the datum." The first Seahawk, callsign Two-Three-Alpha, crewed by Hamza Gürsel at the controls and Tipi Acar on the hoist, dropped low over the water, spotlight sweeping across the debris field.

"I've got rafts," Hamza called back. "One, two... three. Three rafts in view."

Tipi leaned out the open door, counting again, slower this time. "Sir, that's not right. Manifest said five, minimum, given the raft capacity and passenger count. We're two short."

"Copy that. Keep counting, keep the light moving." Hamza banked wide, sweeping the beam further out past the main debris cluster.

Then he saw them. Small shapes in the water beyond the rafts, arms breaking the surface, flailing, some going still and bobbing again as life vests kept heads barely above the waterline.

"Two-Three-Alpha, be advised, multiple persons in water outside the rafts, looks like eight, maybe ten souls, scattered over a quarter mile. Beginning rescue swimmer deployment now."

Yurt Bağcı was already at the door, mask down, fins on. "Swimmer's ready."

"Swimmer away!" He called out.

Two-Three-Bravo, Two-Three-Charlie, and Two-Three-Delta arrived within minutes of each other, fanning out across the debris field like a widening net. On the rafts, survivors were on their feet now, waving, shouting, some pulling off jackets to swing overhead, desperate to be seen over the ones still in the water.

"I see them, I see the rafts, hold position, we'll get to you!" Erkut Aktuna shouted down uselessly into the rotor wash from Two-Three-Bravo's open door, knowing they couldn't hear him, before turning to his pilot. "Güç, the ones in the water first, the rafts aren't going anywhere."

"Copy," Güç Özoğuz said, already sliding the helicopter toward the nearest thrashing shape. "Swimmer away!"

Demirkan Poçan hit the water from Bravo, kicking hard toward a man who'd stopped moving, going still just as Demirkan reached him, hooking an arm under his chin and rolling him onto his back, screaming into his face for a response he didn't get. He worked the basket under him anyway, hauling him in, starting rescue breaths the second the basket cleared the water's surface.

From Charlie, Akaner Birsen and Tuğtekin Akarsu worked a pair of survivors clinging to the same piece of floating debris, a woman with a death-grip on a man's arm, both of them so cold they could barely speak. From Delta, Boran Murat pulled a teenage girl from the water alone, her life vest the only reason she was still afloat, her voice gone hoarse from screaming.

On the rafts, the survivors kept shouting, kept waving, watching helicopter after helicopter bank away toward the people still in the water instead of them, not understanding yet that the ones in the water were the ones about to die first.

Two-Three-Echo arrived last, and instead of dropping immediately into the search pattern, it held a distant hover over the largest raft, a loudspeaker crackling to life beneath its belly.

"ATTENTION. THIS IS THE TURKISH NAVY. HELP IS ON THE WAY. REMAIN IN YOUR RAFTS. RESCUE VESSELS ARE APPROACHING. YOU WILL NOT BE LEFT BEHIND. I REPEAT, STAY IN YOUR RAFTS. HELP IS COMING."

The message repeated, sweeping from raft to raft as the helicopter circled, and the panicked responses calmed as the helicopters continued to try and find survivors in the water. People slumping back down into the rafts, some crying now instead of screaming, gripping each other as they saw the helicopters leaving them behind.

​

TCG Alanya and TCG Yavuz had closed the last of the distance by the time the first loaded Seahawk peeled off toward them, flight decks lit and crews standing by. Two-Three-Alpha came in first, touching down hard on Alanya's deck, and Ülke Özbey and Işıt Bayar were already moving with litters before the rotors had fully spun down, running the first survivors through the hangar doors into the waiting hands of the medical team.

"Two critical, hypothermic, one cardiac arrest in progress," Hamza called out over the deck radio as the helicopter lifted off again, already turning back toward the debris field.

Two-Three-Bravo went to Yavuz next, Ören Sayın and Bihter Sağlam guiding survivors down the ramp, one of them, the woman who'd been clinging to the man's arm in the water, refusing to let go of his hand even as the corpsmen tried to separate them for triage.

The rotation held through the night, helicopter after helicopter cycling between the debris field and the two frigates, unloading the living, marking the positions of the dead for the ships now finally closing on the crash site themselves. Sükran Ahmad and Nisan Yıldırım worked Alanya's flight deck alongside Yeter Ahmad, guiding aircraft down in the dark, the floodlights turning the whole scene into a strange, flickering theater of rotor wash and shouted commands.

Both ships had reached the debris field themselves, engines throttling back, searchlights sweeping the water where the rafts still held their exhausted, freezing passengers, waiting for the boats to finally arrive.

TCG Alanya slowed to a crawl as she came alongside the nearest raft, her searchlight pinning it against the black water. Some thirty survivors, huddled together under a single foil blanket, all of them looking up now, shielding their eyes against the glare.

Kılıçarslan observed the rescue from the bridge wing, watching the RHIB drop from its davits and hit the water with a slap.

Ülke Özbey rode the boat down with the recovery team, and as they closed the gap to the raft, he could hear one of the survivors already shouting, voice cracked and raw.

"Please, please, my wife, she isn't waking up..."

"We've got you, we've got you," Ülke called back in broken English, reaching the raft's line and pulling the two craft together. "One at a time, let us help you across."

The woman came first, limp, passed hand to hand from her husband into the RHIB, and Işıt Bayar was already on her, two fingers at the throat, ear down to her mouth.

"Breathing, shallow, but breathing," Işıt said. "Get her flat, get her covered, now."

Her husband tried to climb across after her and nearly went into the water between the two hulls before Ülke caught his arm and hauled him bodily into the boat. "I've got you, sir, sit down, sit down."

The rest came across more steadily, an older man who couldn't stop shaking, a teenager clutching a life vest to his chest, a flight attendant still in the tattered remains of her uniform, blood dried dark along one temple, waving off help even as her hands trembled too badly to grip the boat's rail on her own.

"I'm fine, check the others first," she kept saying, until Ülke simply picked her up by the arms and set her down inside the boat anyway.

Down in the medical suite, the noise was chaotic, closed in, harsher under fluorescent light after the open dark of the deck. Doctor Oren Sayın moved between litters triaging the situation, calling categories as fast as patients came through the hatch.

"Immediate, get her on oxygen and warmed saline, core temp first," he said as the unconscious woman from the raft was set down, Bihter Sağlam already cutting away her soaked clothing with trauma shears, replacing it with dry thermal wrap.

"Temp's thirty-one point two," Bihter reported, voice tight. "Severe hypothermia."

"Warm slowly, don't rush it, we don't want cardiac arrhythmia on the rewarm. IV warmed fluids, sixty an hour." Oren moved to the husband, who was refusing to leave her side. "Sir, I need you to sit down and let us look at you too."

"I'm not hurt, look at her..." the man began to say before he was cut off by the doctor.

"You're hypothermic as well, sir, you just don't feel it yet, sit down." Oren's said as the man finally sat, hands shaking as a corpsman wrapped a blanket around his shoulders and checked his pulse.

The flight attendant, still protesting, got parked on a side cot while Sükran Ahmad cleaned the laceration on her temple. "Head wound, four centimeters, needs closure but not life-threatening," Sükran called out.

"I really am fine," the woman said again, quieter now, the adrenaline finally starting to crack.

"You're in shock," Sükran said gently, not unkindly, pressing gauze to her temple. "Let me finish this, then you can help me with the next one if you still feel useful. Deal?"

That got the faintest huff of something like a laugh. "Deal."

More survivors came through as the second RHIB run returned, and the pit filled fast, blankets and IV poles. Nisan Yıldırım was working down the row with a clipboard, taking names, checking them against manifest numbers.

"Name?" she asked a young man sitting upright now, wrapped in thermal foil, cup of warm broth shaking slightly in his hands.

"Daan," he said. "Daan de Vries. Seat twenty-two C." He looked up at her, eyes red-rimmed. "My mother was in twenty-two A. I don't...I don't know if she..."

Nisan crouched down to his eye level. "We're still searching, and more rafts are still being brought in. I'll check the moment I have a name confirmed, I promise you that."

He nodded and just held the broth still reeling in from the trauma.

Across the bay, Yeter Ahmad worked with the older man from the raft, wrapping his hands, badly rope-burned from clinging to the raft's lifeline for hours. "You held on a long time," she said, gently unwrapping his fingers one at a time to check the damage.

"Didn't feel like a choice," the man said hoarsely. "Felt like the only thing left to do."

Yeter didn't answer that, just kept working, steady hands over raw skin.

By the time Güzel Vardar came down to relieve part of the triage shift, the pit had settled into its own grim rhythm, the immediate cases stabilizing under warmed blankets and monitored IV lines, the walking wounded clustered near the far bulkhead sharing broth and blankets.

Altan Eren caught Oren Sayın by the hatch on his way through. "How many stable now?"

"Twenty-four from this raft group, six critical but holding," Oren said, wiping his hands on a towel. "Cardiac arrest patient from the water rescue is touch and go, we've got her on the ventilator, but she's still with us." He glanced back over the crowded bay, the low murmur of voices, the hiss of oxygen lines. "More rafts still coming in. This is going to be a long night."

Throughout the night, the Turks' SAR continued as MH-60s flew patterns over the crash zone with immense flashlights lighting up the ocean, hoping to find stragglers still alive. The two Turkish ships held steady as RHIBs sailed around trying to also search for survivors.

Patients in critical situations were flown out on Delta and Echo Seahawks that were now tasked with transporting survivors back to the mainland for emergency medical treatment. After about eighteen hours, the search was called off as all reported passengers on the manifest were received and the two ships began to sail back to port to unload the remaining survivors.