Murdock swam over to Ed.
"Another klick or so along this point of land and we should have it. Any trouble with the mines?" DeWitt shook his head. "Good, stay alert."
Murdock put the mouthpiece from the rebreather back in his mouth and kicked underwater.
They surfaced the next time at the edge of the small inlet. It was about a hundred feet wide, and ended with a huge cliff and the darkness of what must be the cave. The inlet grew larger as they worked slowly into the tiny port. They surfaced for a moment, took their bearings, and saw the gaping black hole in the side of the mountain that came down to the water's edge.
At this point the swimmers stayed just below the surface, and Lampedusa and Jack Mahanani swam forward on a scouting mission. They couldn't go in blind. Were there surface guards? Were there divers in the water? How about a closing gate across the cave or a net of some kind? All were questions that needed answering.
When the scouts didn't come back after five minutes, Murdock waved his platoon to shore, where they rested sitting on rocks under a half-completed dock.
Lam tracked them down five minutes later. He came out of the water and nodded.
"Oh, yeah, she's there. Big and ugly. No gate in front of the bow. No net. Four guards we could see along the dock on each side. Her mast barely clears the top of the cave, which looks like it was chipped away to make room.
"Doesn't seem to be much activity, not like they were ready to get under way any time soon."
"Bow or stern for the mines?" Murdock asked. "Oh, the bow. They backed her in, so she can come out quickly. But if we drop the bow into the mud, they won't be able to drag her out of there. It'll be like a big long grave for her."
"Let's do it."
Eight men moved out at once, two to each of the four large limpet mines. The teams swam forward and worked underwater down the bow of the 335-foot-long frigate. They moved fifty feet along the side and stopped. The big mines were edged away from their flotation gear enough so they could be gently attached by their magnetic backings to the steel hull of the ship. Each set of two mines was ten feet under the waterline and three feet apart.
When the mines were in place, one of the sappers swam to the front of the hull. A SEAL from the other side was there waiting. They signaled that they should set the timers. The men swam back to the mines on both sides, set the timers for three minutes, activated them, and swam quickly away toward the mouth of the huge cave. Once free of the cave, they stroked faster toward the half-completed pier, which was two hundred yards from the ship. They came to the pier and surfaced quietly.
Lampedusa nodded at Murdock. The mines were in place and the detonator/timers started.
All the SEALs had their heads out of the water. To be this close to a heavy blast such as was coming could damage or kill a diver with his head underwater.
"About now," Mahanani whispered.
The words were barely spoken when a rumble filled the air around them, then a muted roar, and a wave of water two feet tall rushed toward them. Almost at once, two more blasts went off underwater in the cave, which brought another surge of sound and racing water.
They could see the dark outline of the big ship, and watched as it tilted and then sank heavily forward to the bottom of the inside of the cave.
"How deep is it?" Murdock asked.
"Maybe twenty feet," Mahanani said. "Her deck won't be in water, but she sure as hell ain't going nowhere." Sirens wailed. Lights flashed inside the tunnel. Murdock took a moment to watch the chaos they had started. More lights flashed; then the entire cave blazed with lights. The bow of the frigate had nosed deep into the water. Her deck slanted twenty degrees forward.
More sirens flashed. Truckloads of troops arrived at the front of the cave and in the lights, Murdock could see the soldiers start to work along the side of the inlet.
"Moving time," Murdock said. The SEALs slid into the water, gripped the rebreather mouthpieces, and swam under the surface to their comfortable fifteen feet. Murdock looked upward, and through the water could see bright flares. He checked again a few minutes later, and saw more flares. But no gunfire sounded or showed below the surface. The SEALs swam forward using their regular strokes to eat up the ocean between them and their pickup boat.
After stroking a half mile, the SEALs surfaced. They were still close to the point of land that extended south from the cave. Murdock counted his men; then Ed DeWitt came to the top of the Yellow Sea and indicated he had all of his men.
Behind them they could still see flashing lights and flares that went off high in the sky and floated down on parachutes. Far off they heard gunfire. None of the rounds came their way.
"Let's go a mile on the same compass heading before we surface this time," Murdock said. The men nodded and dove below the water, where many of them felt more at home than above, or on some enemy land mass.
When they surfaced the third time, Murdock knew they were in the approximate area where they had been dropped off. He couldn't see any boat, but the RIBs were small and painted black, which made them harder than ever to see.
They waited.
Far behind them, Murdock heard a growling sound of an engine.
"Patrol craft," Lampedusa said. Soon they saw a searchlight sweeping the ocean in front of the craft as it came closer.
"Could be one of their large patrol crafts," Ed DeWitt said from nearby. "They have a batch of them. Some are a hundred and forty feet long with one three-inch gun and some thirty seven millimeter guns and MGs. These guys could give us a bad time. Only good thing is they can't do over eighteen to nineteen knots."
"That's a lot of help," Jaybird said. "Where the hell is our RIB?"
"These patrol craft have radar?" Murdock asked.
"Far as I know they have surface-search only. Something called the Skin Head with an I-band. Whatever the hell that means."
"It means we're gonna have company in about five minutes," Murdock said. "Check your buddy lines. When he comes this way we go down to twenty feet and wait. We don't want anybody getting chewed up by a propeller."
"We don't even have the SATCOM," Holt said. "Why didn't we bring it, Cap?"
"Piece of cake like this, we didn't need it. Up to now, that is."
Ron Holt growled and got ready to dive. After this, wherever he went the fucking SATCOM was on his back.
"Here he comes," Murdock said. "Let's go down deep and hold."
The SEALs dove into the Yellow Sea as the North Korean Chodo-class patrol craft raced toward them.
9
Murdock felt the patrol craft go past them. It was twenty or thirty yards to one side. He surfaced slowly, then took a peek. The large-looking craft did a slow turn to the left and headed back the way it had come, missing the SEALs this time by two hundred yards.
The SEALs surfaced and moved together within talking range.
"So?" Ed DeWitt asked.
"Fucking long swim out another nine miles to that destroyer, then we probably couldn't find her," Jaybird said.
"We left the SATCOM back on the carrier," Holt said. "Sorry. Never do that again."
"Any ideas?" Murdock asked.
"Sonobuoy-type gadget," Ching said. "One of them little sonar balls we carry sometimes."
"Don't have one," Doc Ellsworth said. "Besides, we don't have a sub listening for us."
"Big fucking ocean out here," Fernandez said.
Murdock unzipped the waterproof compartment on his vest and took out his Motorola. He keyed it and spoke.
"This is SEAL Seven. RIB, do you copy?"
"Sonofabitch!" somebody growled.
"You ha d it planned all along," Bradford yelped.
The speaker came alive. "SEAL Seven. This is RIB, we copy. You have a light stick? Give us a pink one and we'll come fetch."