Devil's Fork

by Spencer Adams

CHAPTER 24

  WEDNESDAY

  Northeast Coast, North Korea

  Tom gently poked his head out of the water for the third time. He was about 30 feet from the edge of the sea on the beach. He looked left and right. Then he put his head back underwater.

  This doesn’t make sense

  North Korean soldiers were patrolling the beach. Not two or three. But many. He tried to count them the fourth time he poked his face out of the water.

  Maybe 30?

  And that was just on the football field of beach right in front of him. He saw soldiers farther up and down as well. He tried not to keep his face above water for too long because it increased his chances of being spotted.

  He sat underwater as he thought to himself. He thought the mission was supposed to be clean. In the briefing they kept saying that there generally was a low military presence, especially at night. Even then, the North Korean military intelligence units patrolling the area were supposed to be much closer to the underground base itself. What were they doing on the beach? And why so many?

  Whatever, just get to that base.

  He stuck his face out again. He saw the soldiers walking around with flashlights, scanning them along the beach and into the water. He was far enough away that the lights were not close to him. He noticed that there were patterns in how the soldiers patrolled. Several groups walked in one direction while several more walked in the other. Sometimes they stopped and huddled around for a cigarette. He noticed that there were pockets, sometimes twenty feet wide, that nobody was observing. The sky was dark and the sea loud. If he could just sprint through one of those pockets, he could get past the beach. On the far side was a forest that would give him better cover. He would have to turn on his radio once he got further inland. He definitely could not do it on the beach as planned, he thought.

  He moved in closer. Once he could stand, he took off his flippers and attached them to their designated spot on his back. He kept his face above water now and took out the mouthpiece to his rebreather and hooked it onto his chest. He unstrapped his M4 so that he could run better.

  Tom saw to his left a group of five soldiers walking towards the right. To his right a group of five soldiers were walking towards the left, soon to cross paths with the other group.

  A pocket is going to form here

  Up and down the beach it looked like the other soldiers were heading away from the soon-to-be pocket in front of him. Once these groups ahead cross, Tom thought, he would sprint through the pocket. As these groups approached each other, they slowed down. When they met, they stopped. This happened right in front of Tom. The group of ten, now, took out some cigarettes and started lighting up. Tom could hear their voices. They sounded surprisingly normal. He thought for a minute and realized he was probably expecting to hear animalistic screams instead of voices. But these soldiers sounded like they could have been talking about their kids. It was an odd feeling, and Tom made sure to shake it off.

  Come on, keep walking.

  Tom wanted them to move. By now he was shivering. Vibrating was a better way to describe it. The sea at night could be cold. Tom was completely wet and sitting still – not the best way to maintain body heat. He ignored it and kept watching.

  Suddenly the group divided itself back into two. Now there were groups on the left moving further towards the left and groups on the right moving further towards the right. Tom had an empty pocket in front of him that nobody was watching. He figured he probably had twenty seconds at most. He did not have time to think about best practices – he had to go.

  He started walking forward methodically and slowly, so as not to create any noise. In no time, his entire body was out of the water. At this point, he started sprinting towards the other side of the beach. It seemed like it took a hundred steps to get there. He could feel adrenaline start to pump through his body, making him super-conscious of his surroundings. While running he quickly glanced left and right. The soldiers on either side were turned away. This just might work, he thought.

  As he got near the end of the beach, he slowed down. He did not want to make a rustling noise as he dove into the woods. By now, he thought he was in the trees’ shadows, so he should be harder to spot.

  When the woods were just feet away, he slowed more and took a measured step into the forest. Now he began to walk methodically, at a measured speed. He was monitoring his right and left side.

  He stopped as he saw something at his two o’clock. He got on his knee and raised his M4. About 50 feet away, Tom saw a light moving around.

  A Flashlight.

  He could hear the soldiers holding it speaking loudly and laughing at something. They were walking away from him luckily. But it served as a warning. Other patrols were likely to be walking around in the woods. Tom had to be beyond cautious.

  This is the most heavily patrolled area I have ever infiltrated.

  He stayed on his knee, thinking for a minute. If he turned his radio on and called in here, one of these patrols might be able to hear him. Tom thought some more. It was best to continue moving inland before radioing in.