“Good to see you again, Old Man,” I said as if we were meeting over a beer and a burger instead of preparing to break into a secure nuclear power facility. “You still up for this?”
I was still not thrilled about the idea of having the Old Man come along, but I needed his knowledge of the inside of the power plant. I only knew some basics about how the plant worked, and I was going to need more than that to have any chance of being successful. Once inside, I’d need to move fast, and I didn’t have time to look around and guess where I was going. I wasn’t an expert on the plant layout. He was and we both knew it.
“I’m okay. Don’t worry about me,” the Old Man replied. “Hey, I brought along a Thermos with some hot coffee in it. I thought it might be cold out here. Guess I was right!”
He handed me a cup. We both knew it was important to get something warm inside us before we started our dive. The warmth wouldn’t last too long, but my guess was we weren’t going to be in the water long, anyway. The liquid was hot, dark, and strong and tasted good as it went down. It provided a short moment to calm our nerves. The Old Man was smart. I wouldn’t have thought of this.
As we sipped the hot coffee we pulled the gear out of the duffels. We each had wet suits, buoyancy control vests, regulators, fins, boots, masks, weights, digital dive computers, and tanks. Wet suits come in various thicknesses. Normally we’d be using ones that are several millimeters thick for cold-water dives such as this one. But the ones we brought were only 1mm thick to allow us to slip between the bar racks more easily and get inside the circulating water pump. So staying warm could be a challenge.
The fog, while adding to the cold, also provided us some measure of protection from prying eyes. We were just outside the intake cove and around an outcropping of rocks. It was doubtful that any security patrols would be out here tonight. With a threat situation, the station security posture would likely pull in a bit and stay closer to the plant itself. Cameras would be used for the more remote locations, but I knew there wasn’t one here.
I looked at the Breitling watch my dad had given me when I got my Green Beret. It wasn’t a dive watch but it was good to ninety meters, which was significantly deeper than we were planning on going. “We have about twenty minutes to get suited up and in the water,” I said quietly to the Old Man. “They should have the 1–1 circ water pump shut down by then.”
“Okay. Remember, we need to be mindful of the backflow,” the Old Man warned. “There’s a lot of water in that tunnel, and it’s all going to flow back out here when they shut the pump down.”
“What do we do about that?” I asked, as I unpacked my gear, doing a quick mental inventory.
“Make sure you tie yourself off or you’ll likely get swept back out to sea.”
I turned and smiled at the Old Man, though the dark prevented him from seeing it. It was clear to me he was going to be invaluable on this mission.
“More of a concern to me is do we have someone on the inside ready to let us out of the water-box?” he said with concern in his voice. “That’s one nasty place to be trapped.”
“That’s the plan. I guess we’ll find out soon enough.”
Besides the dive gear, I’d packed some rope, two watertight flashlights, two pistols and extra magazines. We also had an extra air tank each. By my estimations, and depending on how much air we used up getting through the pump, we’d need the extra capacity to stay alive in the tunnel until the hatch was opened and we could get out to fresh air.
I looked around and located the laser torch I’d brought, which was specifically designed for underwater use. It was light and portable and could cut through metal underwater much quicker than a gas torch. Designed for Special Forces, it wasn’t something you could find on the market but was key to covert underwater jobs such as this. I had access to such gear from time to time.
We each finished our coffee and put the Thermos and cups aside. We wouldn’t be coming out the way we were going in, so it didn’t much matter what we did with them.
I took a small package from the bag I’d brought with me and opened it carefully.
“What’s that?” the Old Man asked as he saw how gently I handled it.
“It’s what we call a ‘distraction.’ It’s a remote-controlled charge that I’ll place in the back of the boat by the motor and the gas tank. Once I activate it, my team can detonate it. Should make a pretty good show and draw their attention down here. We’ll be long gone by then.”
We each suited up with our dive gear, put on our weight belts, booties, hoods, and inflatable vests. Tanks were next, then fins, and finally gloves. I checked out the Old Man’s regulator and gear to make sure it was all in working order. I patted him on the back. The time for encouragement and bravado — false or otherwise — was over. We were getting down to business. The Old Man then checked out my gear. Just standard safety precautions, which almost seemed absurd, given what we were about to attempt. But I like to take the little things off the table when I can.
“Ready to go?” I asked the Old Man.
“Ready as I’ll ever be. Let’s do it.”
I checked my watch again. We were right on time, assuming Dave was able to uphold his end. I put on my mask, put in my mouthpiece, and glanced over at the Old Man doing the same. I bent down, held my facemask, and quietly slipped over the side of the boat and into the black, unfriendly water.
It was much colder than I’d expected. Given that we had on only thin wet suits, my body immediately started to lose its warmth, but we had no choice. We were counting on being out of the water in ten minutes or less.
I had a bungee cord stretched around my tank. This was a good way to ‘talk’ to another diver. All I had to do was snap it and the sound it made as it slapped the tank was enough to get another diver’s attention. Sound travels well underwater.
Once in the water, I turned on my flashlight, snapped the bungee cord twice, and waited until the Old Man swam over to me. I gave him a thumbs up, a standard diver gesture to ask if everything was all right. He returned the signal. We then dropped down about fifteen feet and started swimming around the rocky outcropping where we were hiding, and into the intake cove.
It didn’t take us long to cover the short distance to our destination. I knew we are getting close because I could start to feel the current pull us in, as the huge circulating water pumps took suction from the bay we were in, pumping an enormous amount of water all the way up the hill to the plant. The pull was noticeable but not too bad. At least it was pulling us in the right direction. But, of course, this meant that the pump was still running.
I looked down at the iridium dial on my watch. It was about at the thirty-minute mark — the time I expected the pump to be shut down, if Prichard had been successful with the shift manager. I swam a little quicker to get to the thick bar racks. Based on the Old Man’s warning, we needed to get tied off pretty soon. I looked around to see if the Old Man was with me. He was. Moving as quickly as we could underwater, I got out the rope, tied one end to the bar racks, and looped the other end through a carabineer on my weight belt. Then I did the same for the Old Man.
One more look at my watch. Just as I did, I could hear the noise level change, even under water. It was quieter. Suddenly, the current stopped pulling us in. I looked at the Old Man and gestured for him to hold on. I didn’t need to. He’d heard it, too; and he, more than I, knew precisely what that meant. Just then the current reversed and started to push against us, heading out to sea, instead of pulling us in. I had a good grip on the bar racks and hoped like hell The Old Man did, too. I didn’t want to have to trust the rope. If we became disconnected, we’d get swept well away from the intake and this mission would be scrubbed.