Chapter 17
The chopper was refueled and waiting in the field behind EOD. A steady, light rain splashed against its windshield. Without the heavy weather that had been expected, there shouldn’t be any delay for the new mission to fly Captain Stevens and Lieutenant Adler back to Lundy.
Norris and Taylor were going through a pre-flight checklist one more time. “Busy couple of days, Dan,” Norris commented, as he flipped two switches.
“Yeah. Too bad we don’t get paid by the hour,” Taylor answered.
Norris checked his watch then glanced out his side window. “They should be on their way anytime now. May as well rev it up.”
Just as the engine went to idle, Taylor noticed Grant and Adler running toward them. “There they are.” He rushed from the cockpit and slid the cargo bay door open. “Need some help, sirs?”
Adler handed him two utility pouches. He and Grant shoved their swim fins across the deck, then climbed aboard.
Taylor said, “We’re ready whenever you are, sirs.”
“Give us five,” Grant answered.
“Yes, sir.” Taylor returned to the cockpit.
Grant and Adler were dressed in wetsuits, with swim masks hanging around their necks. Both carried .45s. K-bars were secured in their leg straps.
Sitting on the deck, they checked their waterproof utility pouches. Each pouch was about eleven inches wide, with a waterproof zipper and a Velcro flap. On the outside was an oral inflation tube for sucking out excess air, or for inflation to give extra flotation capability.
Inside was det cord, a small block of C4 and chemical pencils, each with a three minute delay. Grant carried a couple of flares for signaling the chopper when it was time for extraction. Adler had his hypodermic, filled with enough cc’s of “truth serum” in case they managed to run a G2.
Adler reached into the bottom of his pouch. “Need one of these?”
“Affirmative!” Grant laughed, reaching for the foil-wrapped condom. For waterborne ops, especially in sea water, condoms were one of the cheapest and best ways to protect the barrel of weapons.
They attached a pouch around their waists then put on swim fins. If boarding the boat became an option, the swim fins could be deep-sixed.
“Ready?” Adler asked, as he pulled up his hood. Grant nodded.
Taylor was leaning against the armrest, looking in Grant’s direction. Grant held an arm overhead, then twirled two fingers.
Taylor responded to Grant with a thumb’s up. Within seconds the chopper was airborne.
Rain pelted the chopper as it flew northwest toward Lundy. The southern tip of the island was close to sixty miles from St. Mawgan. From that point it was another four miles to their DZ (drop zone).
Their options were limited when it came to boarding the Cat. Trying to reach it from inland would leave them too exposed. With the weather as it was, and the position of the Cat close to the beach, a HAHO or HALO was out of the question. (High Altitude High Open and High Altitude Low Open were parachute insertion techniques.) For today’s op, a helocast (water insertion) would be their technique, having the chopper hovering ten feet above the DZ.
They’d have a six hundred yard swim to the target. But being on the eastern side of the island, they should be protected from rough surf.
Taylor came up behind them. “Sirs, we’re just about at the DZ.”
Grant looked up. “Okay, Lieutenant. Officials on the island have been contacted, so they’re expecting us. After we hit the water, you circle back and land at the point we agreed on. I’ll signal with a flare once we’re ready for extraction.”
Taylor nodded. “Aye, aye, sir! And good luck!” He stood by, ready to give any instructions to Norris.
Adler leaned forward looking down at the water, thinking about their upcoming swim. “Six hundred yards. Sorta like BUD/S all over again, huh, skipper?”
“Yeah, except we’re, what? Fifteen years older?” Grant replied, grinning.
“You had to remind me,” Adler answered, as he adjusted his face mask then tightened the straps.
The chopper vibrated as it started decelerating. Norris brought it lower, slowly getting to within ten feet of the water’s surface.
Grant and Adler scooted closer to the edge of the cargo bay opening, watching for the green “go” light.
Below them, waves crashed against huge offshore rocks and beat against the coastline. Their DZ was in between the two sets of rocks. White water swirled from the wash of chopper blades, increasing as the chopper descended. Finally, the green light lit up.
With both hands pressing against his mask, Grant slid out of the doorway. Three seconds later, Adler hit the water.
Popping up to the surface and bobbing around on the swells, they signaled Taylor who was standing at the open door. He gave a quick salute, then pulled the door closed.
Keeping the chopper low, Norris circled around and flew to the west side of the island, getting ready to land at the designated site.
Grant adjusted his mask, then gave an “okay” sign to Adler. With powerful kicks and arm strokes, the two started swimming side by side to the Cat’s location.
Swells were no more than four feet. Staying a safe distance off shore, their arms sliced through the water, propelling them closer to their target.
Pulling up, Grant checked his wrist compass, then motioned with his arm. “Straight ahead. Should be around that point.”
Slowing their strokes, they came up to the rocky point, treading water as they floated closer to the cove. Finally, they spotted the Cat anchored fifty yards in front of them. Two men were sitting on the port side atop the gunnel near the stern, with the hoods of their black jackets pulled up. They were sheltered by a canvas canopy.
Grant pointed. Adler knew they’d be swimming parallel to the Cat, heading toward the ass end. Diving below the surface, they stroked hard, judging the distance they had to swim.
Easing up on their strokes until they were barely moving, they looked up and slowly started toward the surface. Silently, the top of their heads broke the surface as if in slow motion. Finally, they were able to see through their masks. With one more swim underwater, they’d be in between the two hulls.
The water grew rougher the closer they got to shore, but they were able to see their target clearly. Using only the power of their legs to propel themselves, they swam below the stern, then quietly broke the surface. Above them the Zodiac swayed in its “harness” as the Cat rolled on the swells.
Holding on at the stern, Adler stretched as far as he could trying to see down the port side. A ladder was attached at midships. He signaled Grant. Their first objective was to put the two men on deck out of commission, by any means.
The men were sitting on the gunnel, carrying on a conversation about football (soccer). There were other voices coming from inside the cabin, but determining how many there were was impossible.
Grant surmised this had to be all of them, otherwise, the Zodiac wouldn’t be here. The Cat wasn’t close enough to the beach for anyone to walk ashore.
Swimming under the Cat, they held onto the bottom of the ladder, then drew their K-bars from the leg straps.
Taking their positions, and giving each other a nod, they propelled themselves upwards, grabbed the two men, and jerked them backwards. The two were dead by the time they hit the water.
With no hesitation, they dragged the bodies under the Cat, then shoved them toward the bow. It was imperative to keep them out of sight for as long as possible. Waves slapping against the hull should disguise sounds if the bodies bumped against it. There wasn’t anything they could do about blood oozing from the wounds. They removed their swim fins and released them close to the bodies.