Page 7 of Twister

Most of the guys on the sub were used to seeing SEALs onboard, but there were a few with stars in their eyes who were new to the experience. SEALs were the rock stars of the SOF community. He understood the hype, and according to a lot of special forces guys, they were in the media way too much, especially after the raid to kill Osama Bin Laden.

What they did was covert, and they preferred to be invisible when they did it.

“So you climb?” the guy next to him said.

Twister had been doing arm curls and he set the weights down, glancing in the other direction at Dagger.

“The shirt,” Dagger said.

“Oh, yeah.” He’d forgotten he’d donned a Patagonia T-shirt.

“My brother climbs.” He smiled.

“Not you?”

“No. I like the climbing part, but not the falling part.”

He and Dagger chuckled. “That’s the tricky part.”

He nodded. “We all appreciate what you guys do and are proud we get to deliver you where you need to go.”

“Appreciate that, man,” Twister said.

After that they went to the mess deck, and Tex ate with the officers and Bondo with the master chiefs. Then it wasdown to their berth to take care of mission preparation. Twister focused on cleaning his weapons, loading his vest, going over his rebreather and dive gear, his med kit, and checking his mags.

When the time came to get back into the DDS and load out for the mission, he moved with his teammates to the DDS hatch, waited while Tex and Bondo loaded out with Easy, and Shark. Then Brawler and Flash were next with him and Dagger. The SWCC pilots were already in the water with the submersible, having done a mission precheck.

Twister’s chest started to get tight as he went into the DDS, but he kept himself calm. Tex would be watching him because his boss had an inkling that Twister was struggling since getting back onto active duty.

That would be true, but only in tight circumstances. He couldn’t quite figure out what was bothering him about it all, and he’d been more than preoccupied with this mission to really give it a good rundown in his brain. Not to mention, emotions were a hurdle for him to manage. Whatever it was wasn’t physical. It was mental—ah, he hated to admit it, but this response had to be emotional.

As the chamber started to fill with water, the four of them fitted their facemasks, set their regulators in their mouths, and their fins over their swim boots. When the DDS was completely filled, Brawler opened the door, and they swam out into the ocean. It was pitch black, only the lights on their gear illuminating the water so they could see to load up.

They were going to be traveling at about five knots, which roughly was about six miles per hour. They were looking at a five-hour trek.

He kept his breathing calm and steady as the tightness in his chest ramped up and was pushed down throughout the uneventful journey. At their destination, which was about three miles out from the coast, the submersible stopped and unloadedthem. The tide was going in, so that would mean less pull to get to shore and a much faster swim. They were to spend an hour taking photos, and then report back to this location for pick up back to the USSMontana.

Again, the mission went off without a hitch until about the last five minutes.

“Wolf One to Wolf Leader,” came through Twister’s comm. “Be advised. Vehicle compromised. No extract available. Egress to home target on physical power. Copy?”

“Copy,” Tex growled into the comm.

“That’s a thirty-two-mile swim, LT,” Shark said with enthusiasm.

“Then we’d better get to paddling,” he said as they retreated from the shore and slipped back into the water. The ocean was vast, and that word didn’t adequately explain the breadth, width, and depth of water that covered seventy percent of the planet, and all of that water teemed with life. Yet there was thirty-two miles of ocean with riptides, open sea, and a myriad of dangers.

But all he could see was thirty-two miles of challenge—him against one of the most formidable forces on the planet.

Water was as familiar an environment as land and the vast expanse of the skies. Training played an integral part in that comfort. Twister’s muscles, lungs, and mind went on autopilot. His body was tuned to the rhythm of the ocean. The waves lifted his torso as it passed overhead, then pushed him flat against the bottom as the water receded before the next set. Up, down, breathe, hold. The rocking motion was relaxing.

As they got past the breakers, Tex said, “Underwater until we clear this area. Then we’ll surface and swim until we reach theMontana. Any questions?”

Brawler raised his hand. “I think Flash forgot his pretty pink unicorn floaty.”

“Fuck you, Brawler,” Flash said.

“What about sharks?” Easy asked.

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