Seawolf Mask of Command (55 page)

The first attempt failed and the pilot pulled up and away, flying right over the sail as he did. She again felt the incredible force of the rotor downwash, except it was stronger this time because the helicopter was much lower. Kristen turned her attention back to the front, seeing nothing as the second helicopter made its first attempt.

Beside her she caught a glimpse of Reynolds shouting something into the sound powered phone. Then frantically he turned to Brodie. “Captain! ESM antenna has picked up a North Korean surface search radar. The radar is of sufficient strength to get a return.” Meaning the North Koreans had discovered the
Seawolf
on the surface just a few miles outside their territorial waters.

Brodie just nodded his head in reply and focused on the rescue attempt. Kristen looked back as the second helicopter struggled to hold it steady over the deck. But the helicopter and the
Seawolf
were each moving too much, and the pilot, losing his reference point, had to abort the attempt. He too pulled up and forward, passing overhead and Kristen got a good look at the heavy metal hook dangling from the end of the cable as it whipped by her head barely fifteen feet away.

“Watch out for that cable,” Brodie shouted to them and then turned back to watch the next attempt.

Three more attempts to create a stable hover over the pitching deck failed, and Kristen saw no reason to think any further attempts would be successful. She turned and watched the latest attempt and saw Brodie leaning out over the side of the sail. Reynolds had turned halfway around and grabbed one of Brodie’s legs to prevent the captain from going over the side. Kristen immediately grabbed his other leg, finding his disregard for his own safety maddening.

“Captain!” Reynolds shouted to be heard over the roar of an approaching Seahawk.

Brodie leaned back from the side and looked at him, “Whatcha got?”

“An E-2 Hawkeye off the
Abe Lincoln’s
is reporting a pair of North Korean jets have just taken off from Hwangsuwon Air Base. ETA our location is seven minutes.”

Kristen’s first thought was that Brodie would abort the rescue and order an emergency dive. Instead, he just nodded his head and turned back to watch the next attempt. He appeared completely unaffected by the warning that two North Korean jets were approaching. She glanced back toward the front and once more scanned her area of responsibility. Her initial excitement about being on the bridge had waned somewhat, and now it was just another grueling operation she was a part of.

“DOWN!” Brodie’s resonating voice bellowed a split second before she was tackled and slammed down hard to the deck. Kristen had no idea what had caused Brodie to suddenly throw himself down on top of her, Reynolds, and Hicks. But as she went down, she heard a metallic clanking sound on the sail followed by a resounding metallic thud just above her head.

Slowly they untangled themselves from each other, and she stood back up, still uncertain what had happened. Then she saw a long shiny streak on the top of the sail’s finish. Beside her, where she’d been standing a split second earlier, there was now a large dent in the bridge. She realized that one of the helicopters had been too low as it flew over the bridge during the latest failed attempt, and the heavy rescue hook had struck the sail, damaging some of the anechoic tiles and then slamming into the bridge.

“Go back to Pensacola, you fucking asshole!” Reynolds shouted in anger at the helicopter’s pilot as he pulled away.

Brodie returned to his perch as if nothing had happened and leaned out over the sail again. Kristen forgot about the night vision goggles around her neck and grabbed his legs, determined to keep him alive despite his apparent disregard for his own mortality.

“Captain, E-2 Hawkeye reports North Korean jets are SU-17s and have just crossed the beach and are feet wet. ETA three minutes.”

Brodie turned back to Reynolds and shouted his orders. “Tell those pilots this is their last chance. Also inform the XO to prepare to crash dive the moment we’re buttoned up!”

“Are you okay, ma’am?” Hicks asked Kristen as he handed back her ball cap. It had fallen off when Brodie had pushed them all down.

“I’m fine,” she replied, but in none of her wildest fantasies of serving on a submarine, had she ever imagined being nearly decapitated by a hook swinging under a helicopter. She’d had enough excitement for one night and was anxious to get everyone back inside and the
Seawolf
below the surface where she belonged.

“Captain!” Reynolds reported as the next helicopter tried a final time to make the rescue. “We have two F-18 Hornets inbound. They are supersonic and should intercept the two bandits in four minutes.”

“Wonderful,” Brodie shouted back. “We’ll be down below in three,” he replied and then resumed watching the last rescue attempt. Once more Kristen abandoned her post and grabbed his legs along with Reynolds as the
Seawolf
rolled violently.

“I hate it when he does this!” Reynolds shouted to her.

Kristen was no longer having fun. She was tired, cold, and worried that they would never get Cheng off safely. But then, as she watched the last helicopter come over the deck, she saw the pilot. He was wearing night vision goggles and his head was locked on the bridge of the
Seawolf
. The other pilot’s head looked to be on a swivel, but the helicopter was hovering steady over the deck.

“Come on,” she whispered knowing no one could hear her with the sound of the helicopter’s twin T700 engines roaring nearby. But as she watched, the pilot held his position despite the gusting winds in excess of forty-five knots. Then, a moment later, Brodie was sitting up and motioning for Reynolds to unplug everything.

“They got him!” Brodie shouted. “Unplug and get below!”

Kristen knelt down and helped Reynolds. They rushed to get below as everyone unhooked their safety lines. Thoughtlessly, she set her hat on her head to free up her hands and quickly unplugged the ship’s phone. As soon as Reynolds had everything unplugged, he began climbing down. The roar of the helicopter reached her again and she felt the terrific rotor wash as the helicopter carrying Cheng flew overhead and away.

She stood up to make way for Hicks so he could follow Reynolds. But as she did, the cap on her head was caught by the wind and blew off. Hicks briefly caught it in his hand, but it slipped through and caught on the forward AN/BRA-34 antenna mount sticking up out of the top of the sail. Before she could stop him, Hicks lunged after it and landed belly first on the sail as he grabbed the hat. But just as he was grabbing the meaningless hat, the
Seawolf
rolled mightily in a heavy swell.

“No!” Kristen shouted as Hicks who was halfway out of the bridge and flailing wildly with his arms to arrest his slide, began to slip toward the side. She then saw, to her dismay, his unhooked safety line. There was nothing to prevent him from sliding off the sail and over the side and into the sea.

A wave hit the
Seawolf
and green water broke over the sail. Kristen lunged toward Hicks but felt herself pushed aside. She slammed into the side of the bridge with enough force to knock the wind out of her. She then saw Brodie, with one hand on Hicks, sliding up onto the sail as well. Kristen grabbed Brodie, but his torso was torn from her grasp as saltwater cascaded over them.

Hicks went over the side of the sail and Brodie was going with him.

Kristen, frantically grasping for anything to grab onto, managed to grab a leg, but she knew their combined weight would pull her over as well. Brodie was still gripping the side of the bridge, and Kristen was gripping one of his legs, but the rest of him was on the sail, dangling precariously over the edge about to join Hicks in the boiling sea.

Kristen heard herself screaming for help as she struggled to hold on. She clawed at Brodie’s clothing, trying to drag him back up onto the sail and into the bridge, but it was like trying to move a mountain. Under his soaked clothing she could feel his flesh; muscles were taught and trembling under the strain. It was then she realized he hadn’t let go of Hicks. She couldn’t see the unfortunate sonarman dangling over the side of the sail, but clearly the captain was still holding onto him.

She knew the captain was strong, but even a man with exceptional strength couldn’t last long under such conditions. She strained, feeling the muscles in her shoulders, back, and arms screaming in protest as she managed to pull Brodie’s left leg back into the bridge. She clawed her way up his torso, pulling with all of her strength. Another wave crashed over them, and for a moment she thought she’d lost him as her hands frantically fought through the water for him.

Kristen grasped his torso as she coughed up seawater. But she was losing the struggle and felt herself beginning to go over with him. She pulled with all her remaining strength, jamming her boots against the inside of the bridge for leverage. Her hands had reached his shoulders and she could feel him literally shaking with the strain of holding on to Hicks. Kristen had managed to get his left leg back in the bridge, but he was still spread eagle on the sail, and her strength was fading.

In the control room, Graves was standing on the periscope platform anxiously monitoring the tactical display showing the North Korean attack jets streaking in at nearly the speed of sound. The two navy helicopters were also displayed as they headed home. Meanwhile, coming from the
USS Abraham Lincoln,
two F/A-18 Super Hornets were racing in to intercept the two SU-17s. As he watched the tactical display, he vaguely heard Reynolds reporting himself back down from the bridge as was proper. Graves was anxious to get the other three down, and he glanced aft where Reynolds, looking like a half-drowned cat, was peeling off his foul weather gear and looking back up the tunnel.

Graves knew how long it should take to clear the bridge in the best as well as the worst circumstances, and by now there should be three more people in the control room and the hatch should be closed. “What’s the problem?” he asked Reynolds who glanced back up. As he did so, a barrel full of water came crashing down from above.

“I don’t see’em, sir,” Reynolds said as Graves grabbed his radio microphone to talk to Brodie.

“Bridge, con. Report, over.” He paused only a few seconds before trying again. “Captain, this is the XO. Status, over.” There was still dead silence. He looked at COB who was already moving aft to the ladder leading to the bridge.

“Get back up there and see what’s wrong,” Graves snapped at Reynolds, who grabbed the ladder and started climbing with COB right behind him.

Kristen tensed every muscle, feeling as if her arms had to come out of their sockets as she dragged his second leg back inside the bridge. Now, with Brodie’s lower torso in the bridge, she gasped as he released his grip on the side of the sail. His left hand was bleeding from a wicked laceration created by the edge of the metal bridge. But instead of using it to pull himself back in, he now grabbed Hicks with both hands. She couldn’t reach Hicks, who was dangling over the side of the sail. Brodie was still leaning out too far and in danger of being pulled over. Kristen grabbed him around the waist and held on for dear life, straining against the sea trying to claim him.

Another wave crashed over the
Seawolf
and the submarine heeled dangerously. She felt the water strike her on the back and try to wash him over the side with Hicks. The submarine shuddered as it righted itself while another wave crashed into it. Then the sound of the raging sea was drowned out by the roar of two SU-17 fighter bombers close overhead.

More water rushed up and over the sail. She felt the icy water strike her and wash over all of them. Kristen threw her entire weight around Brodie’s lower torso, hoping this might help keep him from going over the side. She wrapped her arms around his waist, straining with every muscle she had, but her strength was ebbing, as she knew his had to be. His entire body was trembling from the exertion and neither of them could last much longer. A selfish part of her wanted him to release Hicks, but before she even finished the thought, she knew Brodie would never do that.

A flurry of hands, arms, and legs were suddenly around her. She felt a knee accidentally ram into her head and was slightly dazed as Reynolds and then COB reached them. As they scrambled to get a grip on Brodie and Hicks, Kristen was caught under a mass of legs and arms flailing to grab the two men and drag them back on board.

A few seconds later, she was nearly crushed in a heap of flesh as men collapsed to the deck on top of her. Kristen was literally struggling to breathe as she heard a weak voice ordering everyone below. She felt Brodie lying on her and felt her arms still wrapped around him, holding on to make certain he didn’t go over the edge.

“Get below,” he ordered weakly as he gasped for air.

COB took charge and got the half-conscious Hicks down through the hatch. Reynolds assisted the barely conscious sonarman down. Next, Kristen was helped up and lowered through the hatch. Exhausted and weakened by the struggle to prevent Brodie and Hicks from going over the side, her arms felt like useless stumps and her hands hardly better. It took all of her remaining strength to climb back down the ladder, hardly remembering how excited she’d been just forty minutes earlier when she’d gone up. She was now so weak she had to pause halfway down to regain some feeling in her limbs. Her hands and forearms were cramping and no longer working properly. But she couldn’t rest long. The others were entering the tunnel from above, and she had to get down so the boat could submerge.

More helping hands were waiting as she descended the last section of ladder. Doc Reed and his medical assistants, all of who were soaked from being on the deck for the medivac, were there and tending to Hicks who was bleeding from a laceration to his forehead and suffering from a possible concussion. Apparently, when he was hanging along the side of the sail, he’d banged his head into it. Even now, he was only semi-conscious and being placed on a stretcher.

Men helped Kristen to the periscope platform, wrapping her in a warm blanket and setting her down. Kristen looked over at Hicks. “Is he okay?” she gasped.