Devil's Fork

by Spencer Adams

CHAPTER 20

  WEDNESDAY

  Sea of Japan

  Tom looked down from his seat in the helicopter. The Korean peninsula had disappeared some time back. Below him was open sea. The breeze flowed past his face. They were flying fast. A partly lit moon brightened the dark sky.

  Within minutes they would be hovering over the Virginia. The crew of the helicopter would then drop the fast rope. A sailor from the submarine would hold it at the bottom while Tom slid down. This all was to happen about 35 nautical miles from the area he planned to land on the North Korean coast. By maritime law, a country’s territorial waters extended 12 miles out from its coast. If a US helicopter or surface ship crossed that zone, it could surely expect to be intercepted by the North Korean navy. The territory of sea between 12 and 24 nautical miles was known as contiguous waters, and a country could still justifiably intercept a ship in that zone if it were deemed a threat. So at 35 nautical miles out, Tom felt that they were safe, but also close.

  Once Tom was on the submarine, the plan was for the helicopter to turn around and land on the George Washington, which was several nautical miles further back. It would refuel and then head back to Yongsan Garrison in Seoul. If anyone was watching on radar, they would likely just think this was a training exercise to practice a night landing on an aircraft carrier. That was the idea. Meanwhile, once Tom was inside the Virginia, it would submerge and turn completely radio silent so as not to give away its location. It would head directly towards the infiltration point and halt about three nautical miles out. From there Tom would infiltrate with his SDV.

  Tom walked through the plan again as they continued flying over the serene sea. He did not think helicopters were the most pleasant vehicles. When he was deployed as a SEAL, he had been in several helicopters that had crashed. These were not major crashes and explosions like the movies showed. As he visualized it in his mind, he remembered that it usually happened when they were flying low and taking enemy fire. For some reason, sometimes these helicopters would just fall. Luckily when it happened to him, the SEALs inside survived. There had been other helicopters that had been shot down and everyone was killed. But because of these crashes, and the feeling of unease as they were going down, Tom’s mind began associating the helicopter itself with the unease he felt in those crashes. He was being classically conditioned. Except this time it was not in a positive way. He did not think about it too much, and it did not bother him too much as he also had many positive experiences in helicopters as a counterbalance. But he was aware that he was in a flawed vehicle. He closed his eyes and used James-Lange.

  What helped Tom was that he was not too bothered by death. It was a paradox that clarified it for him. When he was a SEAL, he deployed with various military units. Sometimes they were US Army, Marines or Navy. But sometimes he deployed alongside foreign units. He had seen a lot of soldiers and sailors over the years. Many of them were very scared of dying. Tom never blamed them. To be deployed in hostile environments and seeing friends getting killed did not make one feel more secure in life. But he noticed something odd. It started with the soldier or sailor sitting in fear of death for a while. Facing this constant fear made many of these men psychologically tormented. Nobody can look death in the face for long without torment. After some time, the person decides he cannot stand the angst any longer and sometimes wishes that he were no longer alive. That seemed to be the only escape from misery. But there was the paradox. He had seen people become afraid of dying to the point where they, effectively, wanted to die to escape the fear. Once that paradox came to light, that fear of death dissipated. Not completely, but slowly. The confusion in the mind helped one cope. Tom had seen a number of people reach this state. You could see it in their faces. Many liked to call it the Thousand Yard Stare.

  Tom could feel the helicopter start to descend. He saw the outline of a submarine, peeking through the water. It seemed only a few football fields away. As they descended closer, Tom could make out several sailors standing on the bridge, looking at the helicopter with binoculars. Several more were on deck preparing for Tom.

  The helicopter slowed to a hover just above the deck. The crew chief let the fast rope drop. A sailor on deck grabbed it. If the fast rope swung around while Tom was on it, or if the helicopter lurched, he could be in the sea in no time. Tom took a look around the inside of the helicopter. Everyone was watching him – the pilot and the crew. He grabbed the rope and slid down with all his gear. As soon as he was on deck, he could feel mist from the sea brush his face.

  The helicopter pulled in the fast rope and started off towards the George Washington. They were done with their bit.

  A sailor walked up to Tom. He had to yell through the noise from the chopper blades and the sea.

  “Hello, sir! You are Tom, correct?”

  “That’s right!” Tom yelled back.

  They ran to the bridge. Tom climbed up and saw that the hatch was open at the top. Tom climbed the ladder down into the warm submarine. When his feet touched ground, he looked around. He was in a familiar place – the submarine’s control room. He saw sailors in their blue work uniforms staring at him at their stations. Everyone wanted to get a look at the man in all-black. After him, the rest of the sailors from the deck above came down. One older-looking man approached him.

  “Tom? I’m Captain Cruz. Welcome aboard.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “Collins, take care of him.”

  A sailor stepped forward. “Yes, sir. Come with me.” He motioned aft and Tom started walking with him. Behind him Tom heard the captain begin to give orders and his officers acknowledge and relay them.

  “Make our depth seven zero feet. And let’s go radio silent.”