Edward Crichton - To Crown a Caesar

A few seconds later, I was quick to notice the lumbering behemoth that was the bottom of the pleasure barge loom into view. I switched on my headlamp and directed my attention towards the hull, Helena’s light providing additional coverage. Maneuvering my body so that I was lying parallel with the ship, I felt along its surface with my bare hands. The wood seemed smooth and clean, no effects of mold, decay, or shoddy workmanship visible. I gave the hull a knock with my fist, and determined it was solid and thick.

I glanced over at Helena as she floated next to me, her body perpendicular to the ship and her head a few feet away from my own. She pointed at the ship and flipped her hand in a questioning gesture. I shook my own head to ward off her unspoken question and hooked a thumb towards my bag, floating behind me.

BUD/S wasn’t called Basic Underwater Demolition/SEAL for nothing. I learned everything I know about swimming, the open water, demolitions, and how to combine all three effectively there, and what I didn’t learn there was drilled into my head as I attended countless other schools for the next two years before I was able to join the Teams. Once we could do all that, and so much more, we became Frogmen.

Prior to the Vietnam War, there were no SEALs, instead, there was the Underwater Demolition Team, or UDT. Their legacy dated back to World War II when they were known simply as Frogmen. When SEAL teams were developed during the Vietnam War, the two teams worked side by side until the UDT was finally decommissioned in the 1980’s. Since then, in respect to its roots, SEALs were known as Frogmen as well.

I took an unnecessarily deep breath as I floated, confused as to why Helena hadn’t understood what I was doing. We had gone over these procedures a dozen times before. She should already know that I was using rudimentary methods to determine the ship’s structural integrity. I had a few devices back home could determine the hull’s thickness and density, but our supplies had unfortunately forgotten those toys.

It wasn’t a problem. The ship was obviously constructed out of wood, and considering the kinds of explosives I was using, it didn’t matter what kind. I held out my hand and extended three fingers before gripping an object Helena held out in front of her, one of the smallest demo pieces I’d brought. The object was cylindrical in design, and had a dial and two buttons. One button activated a timed countdown, while the dial determined the amount of time before it blew. The second button activated that device’s remote detonation function. It allowed us to blow the charges on command if desired. Safe and simple, perfect for this kind of work.

After placing the first demo charge on the hull, utilizing an underwater adhesive Helena had applied to it before handing it to me, I gave it a quick tug to make sure it was secure. Satisfied that it was, I used my hands to guide my body across the hull and my flippers to propel me forward. I glanced at my watch. We still had about twelve minutes of air left to secure four more charges.

We had only traveled along the very tip of the bow, a fraction of the boat itself, by the time we finished planting four of the five planned bombs in a square pattern. I glanced at my watch. Four minutes left. We made our way to the center of the grid, and I held up two fingers indicating I wanted our middle sized charge, the biggest one I’d asked for yet. I placed the bomb against the hull on instinct alone, securing it as quickly as I could. I made a final adjustment to its placement, a feeling of lightheadedness growing inside me.

I must have used up my air supply quicker than I thought.

Taking as deep a breath as I could manage, I pulled the canister out of my mouth, and pushed off from the bottom of the ship, torpedoing myself away from it. I saw Helena was already a few meters out ahead of me, her air having apparently run out just before mine had. I put my snorkel back in my mouth and secured the oxygen tank to my belt as I kicked with all my might.

Just as I cleared the boat, my more experienced swimming legs allowed me to overtake Helena easily. I grabbed her hand as I swam past and pulled her forward behind me, making sure we stayed submerged as long as possible. I felt her start to surface after a few seconds, but I held her down.

Usually, people instinctually tried to find air as soon as they think they’ve run out. However, as a general rule, most of the time they actually have a few more seconds than they think before their heart stops pumping. Learning how to avoid panic and utilize those extra seconds could save your life, but the only problem now was that I wasn’t sure if Helena knew that, and another five seconds later I felt her slow down behind me.

She was blacking out, and I had to surface now before she finally ran out of air. When we finally broke the surface she sputtered and coughed water from her lungs and fell beneath the surface again. I wrapped an arm around her chest and secured her above the water.

She sputtered out another lungful of water.

“What the hell are you doing, Jacob!?”

“Sorry,” I said. “Bu take a look at the ship before you really get mad at me.”

I was facing away, but her head was looking directly at it. I knew she would see what I already knew would be there, small shapes that were really two men standing along the railing, looking out over the water. We’d noted them during our reconnaissance, and they may have spotted us had we surfaced earlier.

She coughed up a little more water. “Oh. The guards. I forgot.”

“That tends to happen when you’re passing out.”

“You can let go now, Jacob.” she said as she regained control of herself. “I can make it back on my own.”

I didn’t argue with her, and slowly released her into the river. I shifted into a backstroke so I could keep an eye on her until I was satisfied she could manage, but, true to her word, she was now moving easily under her own power. I spit some water that had made its way into my mouth at her playfully and turned towards where I estimated Santino was, resisting the urge to challenge her to a race.

I felt fantastic. Reinvigorated. Something about pulling Helena through the water to outrun the prying eyes of guards aboard a pleasure boat had riled something deep inside me. My heart was pounding, but I wasn’t out of breath, wasn’t fatigued. It was an exhilarating feeling, one I didn’t want to let go of. All these years of mundane missions and solving little problems seemed so insignificant against what we were doing now, and my body reflected that.

Tomorrow couldn’t come sooner.

Once we passed our point of entry, I scanned the opposite tree line for sign of Santino. I almost thought we’d passed him when I saw two quick pulses of a dim red light emerge from the trees. Angling my body, I headed towards the source. As I crawled out of the water, Helena wearily behind me, I moved into the trees and shrubs, and found Santino lying in a shallow ditch, one of his eyes buried in a spotting monocular.

I knelt beside him and looked over his shoulder at the enormous barge in the distance.

“Any indication they noticed us?” I asked.

“No,” he whispered. “Just as you two surfaced, it looked like one of them may have caught sight of something, but he didn’t seem suspicious. One of his buddies came up to him a few seconds later and they started bitching about something. It didn’t seem like you were the topic of interest.”

“Good,” I replied, glancing at Helena.

She was lying on her back, her left forearm draped across her forehead, her right hand resting on her bare abdomen as her chest rose and fell heavily. It didn’t seem like simple fatigue, and I wondered if she was recovering from another pain attack.