Seawolf Mask of Command (61 page)

After the SDV cleared the rear deck of the
Seawolf
and increased to its cruise speed of seven knots, all sense of motion left her, and she was floating in the tiny compartment. She glanced over at Hoover whose face was barely visible in the red glow. He was studying a navigation board. The board was illuminated by tritium gas on the dial, and she watched as Hoover, using a chemical light stick, a grease pencil, his dive watch, and the board, did his best to keep track of their movement on a laminated map showing their route through the minefield.

She knew such navigation methods had been the standard for decades on SDVs, but would hardly have made her comfortable. Far more comforting was the knowledge that the SDV—the SEALs simply called it an “eight boat” for its military designation SDV MK 8—had an onboard Miniature Underwater GPS Receiver (MUGR) with a float antenna reaching up to the surface above. This far more accurate satellite system was their primary means of navigation which was good, since to traverse the minefield safely allowed for no error.

It was too cramped for her to move around much, and she couldn’t look over her shoulder at Hamilton who was positioned behind her. So she tried to keep her mind off what lay ahead by concentrating on what Hoover was doing and occasionally catching a glimpse of the tiny fish that’d joined them as a hitchhiker. She checked the luminous dial of her dive watch periodically, finding the time going by slowly as they headed through the minefield. Kristen tried various mental games to try and help pass the time and keep her thoughts off what might be waiting for them. She found it almost impossible to concentrate as gruesome thoughts flooded her imagination about what lay ahead on the shore of North Korea.

Slowly, the methodical rhythm of the electric motor and the weightlessness combined with her lack of sleep allowed her thoughts to drift.

Musudan-ri, North Korea

T
he panel alongside her seat slid back, startling her awake. Her first thought was to wonder where she was, having believed it all some stress-induced nightmare. She looked up in the dark water and saw Hoover. The SEAL, just like her, was wearing his full facemask. He wore a red chemical light stick strapped to his left wrist, allowing her some light in the murky blackness. It took her only a few seconds to once again realize where she was. Then she discovered a new problem, something she should have anticipated. She was cold.

The SDV was not a dry environment, and for the entire sixteen miles through the minefield, all of them had been exposed to the cold water. The SEALs in their drysuits were fairly well protected from the cold, but there had been no drysuit close to her size, and her ill-fitting wetsuit had provided, at best, marginal protection.

But she could hardly ask them to start a fire so she might warm herself. Hoover helped her out of the sub, and she felt the ocean waves just above their heads. They were in relatively shallow water, and she could see two more red chemical lights in the darkness. She was connected to Hoover by an eight foot tether—not that she had any inclination of moving more than an arm’s reach from the SEAL until they returned to the
Seawolf.

She swam alongside Hoover, doing her best to ignore the dark, paralyzing fear trying to consume her once more, and instead focused on the mission one step at a time. She then saw Chief Grogan with an underwater navigation board in his hands. Hamilton was with him. She didn’t see Alvarez, but then looked back and saw the SDV pilot following them. Once Grogan was certain they were all with him, he began swimming.

The team spread out in a rough wedge shape with Grogan in the middle, Alvarez directly to the Chief’s left, Hamilton on the extreme left, Hoover on the right. Kristen stayed near Hoover as they swam along the rocky bottom. Kristen was once more aware of the pounding in her chest, and she felt across her body for the pistol on her hip, wondering if she could ever use it. The assault rifle was secured on her left side but was not loaded. She then noticed her face mask fogging up again. Recognizing she was on the verge of hyperventilating, she concentrated on regulating her breathing.

Slow, steady breaths. Take it easy. You’re going to be okay.

Yeah, right!

The motion of the waves was becoming stronger and the moonlight was growing brighter. She glanced up and saw they were now a few feet below the surface. Grogan came to a stop, and she moved closer to Hoover. They were now in barely six feet of water, and Kristen was certain the entire North Korean coastline had to be able to hear her thundering heart.

Hoover stripped off his swim fins. Seeing this, she did the same, securing each fin to the appropriate calf as they’d taught her back on the
Seawolf.
He then pulled her to him and motioned for her to wait as he loaded his assault rifle while still underwater and then pulled his pistol. She watched in the dim light just below the surface as the SEAL loaded his pistol.

Oh, shit!

They were no longer tethered, and she allowed herself to sink to the rocky bottom where she pulled herself hand over hand toward the shore. Once she reached waist deep water, she forced herself to stand up slowly, allowing her head to rise above the water. She peeked out over the surface, expecting to see the entire North Korean military aiming weapons at her. It seemed the height of arrogance to believe they might actually be able to sneak ashore undetected. Yet, as she peered across the moonlit surf, she could clearly see the four SEALs, still in their wedge formation with their suppressed HK-416s in hand.

For a moment it felt as if she were watching some sort of stupid action movie. The surf was pounding the rocky shore, and the wind was howling. The four SEALs, their weapons up and at the ready, were each facing in a different direction, ready to unleash hell if Grogan ordered it. But whereas it might have the appearance of some action film, an ice cold chill of reality struck her as gut-wrenching fear gripped her once more.

This was as real as it got.

She resisted the urge to duck her head back beneath the waves. Instead, she kept her head just far enough out of the water to see what was happening. The SEALs slowly moved forward, their heads up and looking over the sights of their silenced pistols.

What are you doing here?!

Some might have thought it exciting. Some might have thought it cool. She didn’t. There was absolutely no part of her that thought any of this was fun or adventurous. The idea of possibly drawing her pistol and joining these trained killers as they crept silently toward the forbidding shore was almost laughable. Instead as she waited, her head just above the water, she was uncertain if she could go through with it. Paralyzing fear had engulfed her as the four men reached the rocky shore. She then saw Grogan turn toward her and motion her forward.

Oh, shit!

Her legs were shaking with a combination of bone numbing cold and fear. She doubted she could stand, let alone take a step. But then, a calm realization struck her. They were in North Korea and if anyone of them made a mistake, they would all die. There were no ridiculous illusions in her mind of some heroic escape if discovered. They were outnumbered literally millions to one. She wouldn’t be captured and traded for a North Korean spy. She would be killed here on this very beach. The future she’d dreamed of with a home, a husband, a family, and a career would be over before ever being realized. Her grandparents would receive a visit from a casualty assistance officer informing them of her death.

And the world would never know what happened to her.

It was odd, but the cold, rational acceptance of the fate now before her allowed some semblance of calm to settle over her once again. She moved forward, the terror fading to a manageable level as she accepted the very real probability that none of them would survive.

Kristen joined them as they stripped off their dive gear and silently stashed the gear in the rocks. No words were said and none were necessary. All knew the score. All knew the desperation of their orders. All knew the cost of failure.

Kristen added her gear to theirs while the men pulled on their small helmets, night vision goggles, and readied their assault rifles. Each weapon had an integral silencer built into the barrel. Kristen doubted she would use the rifle, but assumed it was better to have it than not. Hamilton’s machine gun stayed slung across his back as he stepped up on the rocks and took a knee, his rifle up and his eyes scanning the area. Grogan and Hoover joined him. Alvarez would stay at the shoreline where he could secure their gear and guard the SDV which was just off shore in shallow water, barely hidden under the waves. Once Grogan was satisfied the area was clear, he made a quick hand-and-arm signal, and they moved out.

The shoreline was made up of jagged rocks, some nearly the size of a large car, others much smaller. The various shapes and sizes made movement difficult as their boots struggled to find traction. Kristen, her boots too large, found the going even more arduous as she moved over the uneven terrain. Fortunately, she was in excellent physical shape. Even so, she had a hard time keeping up with the SEALs who leapt from rock to rock silently, finding solid footing and maintaining their wedge-shaped formation as they swept forward with apparent ease.

Grogan stayed in the lead, constantly checking his compass to keep them on course. To his left, Hamilton moved in the darkness with all the noise of a wraith. To the right, making an occasional sound, Hoover advanced, scanning the area to their right. They moved without a word for maybe ten minutes before Grogan suddenly stopped and lowered himself to a knee, but kept his weapon up.

They’d told her if she was ever uncertain what to do, she should mimic them. So, fearful they’d been spotted, Kristen knelt down. She moved in behind a large boulder she hoped might stop a bullet and glanced around the corner of the rock, expecting to see North Koreans approaching. Her right hand brushed against the pistol, and she chastised herself for even thinking about it. She waited silently for what felt like several minutes. Finally, not hearing any instructions from Grogan or the others, she glanced up and was immediately struck with panic.

The team was gone.

She looked around, almost spinning like a top, seeing nothing but the dark rocks making up the beach.

She was alone.

All alone in the middle of North Korea!

Her heart was once again threatening to leap out of her chest, and paralyzing fear gripped her. She thought of the locator beacon on her gear and whether or not she should activate it. The probability that the others didn’t realize she was gone added to her alarm. They could be moving further away every second.

She had to move.

She had to move fast.

But which way?

Kristen looked around, trying to squelch her fear so she could think clearly. She thought about the suicide injector and wondered if she could ever use such a thing. Not that the idea of being captured by the North Koreans at all eased her growing level of alarm. The North Koreans would torture her mercilessly. She briefly wondered if she might be able to resist telling everything she knew, but then dismissed the idea as preposterous.

Y
ou’ll squeal like a pig the moment they hold the first needle of truth serum in front of you!

Kristen looked around for any sign of where the three SEALs had gone, but everything looked the same. The rocks. The dark night. Wherever she looked, everything was exactly the same. She glanced back in the direction she believed they’d come from and thought it might be best to retrace her steps and wait by the gear. Then she remembered Chief Grogan telling her not to go wandering off, and if she got lost to stay put. But that had made a lot more sense when she was sitting in the
Seawolf
and it had all been an academic exercise. Now that she was in the middle of this insanity, she just wanted to find Hoover and never leave his side.

A sound to her left caused her to nearly jump out of her skin. She peered into the darkness, seeing nothing. Then she heard the sound again. It sounded like something dragging softly on the rocks, scratching them. But she wasn’t sure how close it was.

Oh, shit! Oh, shit! Oh, shit!

She considered her pistol. But realized she would likely shoot herself, or at the very least alert the entire North Korean army to her presence should she try to use it. She heard the sound again. It was close! She bit her lip to squelch a burning desire to shout for help. However many there were, they were close and getting closer.

She squeezed herself back into a crevice to hide. She then heard the soft clicking again.

They were right on top of her!

Once more, the thought of her pistol came to mind, and then her thoughts went to her suicide injector.

You can’t be captured! You can’t let them take you alive! You know too much!

Kristen reached for the pocket where she had the injector. She hadn’t thought herself capable of using it. But as cold, merciless fear gripped her, she knew she preferred death to revealing the vast quantity of knowledge she had on the
Seawolf
and the US Navy in general.