State Of The Union

As he was no longer carrying his M4, the bulk of Harvath’s gear was now contained in a medium sized buoyancy bag, which could be partially inflated via a small, attached bottle of air, thus rendering the bag weightless underwater. Harvath inflated it to the proper buoyancy and using carabiners, secured the bag to two eyehook style receivers mounted beneath his DPV. Cutting the cord that co

His rendezvous point was off another island, just inside the Russian maritime border, about five kilometers away. It was a tiny, insignificant port where fisherman stocked up on fuel and supplies, as well as waited out storms or repairs to their boats before putting back to sea. The vessel Harvath was meeting, complete with the SEAL team that had commandeered it, would fit in perfectly.

As Harvath fixed his location with the DPV’s Global Positioning System, he wasn’t surprised to hear the low grumble of Zevzda high-speed diesels coming from one of the Sokzhoi patrol boats on the surface. It had made a beeline straight for theRebecca the minute he had abandoned ship. It was exactly what he had been counting on.

Depressing the trigger switches of his DPV, Harvath began to move as quickly as he could away from theRebecca and the Russian boarding party that was probably already clambering over her gunwales.

Despite his dry suit and all the other precautions he had taken, the water was still freezing. Not only was the suit not keeping him as warm as he would have liked, but along with the buoyancy bag suspended from the bottom of the DPV, it was also creating a lot of drag. Had he been more streamlined, he might have been able to get away a lot faster from what was about to happen.

Illuminating the timer strapped to his wrist, Harvath counted down the final seconds before theRebecca exploded. When the timer reached zero, he said to himself, “da sveedanya,motherfuckers,” but was unprepared for the incredible concussion wave that followed.

Had it not been for the MkX’s locking forearm cuffs, Harvath would have lost the DPV for sure. His ears were ringing and he was completely disoriented. He fought to hold on to consciousness as the change in pressure slammed his body into a deadly spin. It was like being caught beneath the biggest wave he had ever imagined. Over and over he turned as the force of the blast threatened to squeeze the life out of him. The regulator was knocked from his mouth and he had no idea which way was up.

There was a tightness in his chest and as he struggled against the blackness overtaking his head, he realized he was holding the triggers of the DPV in a viselike death grip and that it was pulling him straight down. Harvath let go and the machine’s propeller came to a halt. Unlocking one of his arms, he located his regulator and placed it back into his mouth. For several seconds, all he did was breathe, but the air tasted fu

As the DPV pulled him on a gradual ascent toward the surface, Harvath felt the pressure on his body lessen and his mind began to clear. There was no way the blast he had felt was from theRebecca, he was too far away when it had gone up. It had to have been something else.

Approaching the surface, Harvath could once again hear the low diesel grumble of one of the Sokzhoi patrol boats. This one was very close. Though he was tempted to take a look, he decided against it. Pointing the DPV in the opposite direction, he depressed the triggers and set about putting as much distance between himself and the Russians as possible.

Surprisingly, the sound of the engines didn’t fade. In fact, they grew louder. Harvath changed course again and so did the patrol boat. It was if they had some sort of lock on him, but how? Then he realized-sonar.

The Sokzhoi was one of the most efficient, best-equipped patrol boats the Russians had. There was no doubt that it would have been outfitted with all the bells and whistles and with his DPV, Harvath was unquestionably giving off a small, but distinct sonar signature. Though a small, moving target was hard to hit, if the Federal Border Guard agents were using grenades to force him to the surface, they wouldn’t have to be dead-on accurate, just being in the general neighborhood would be enough. Harvath had to act fast.

Diving, Harvath pushed the limits of toxicity for his rebreather as far as he dared. At just below thirty-two feet, he hovered and braced for impact. Moments later, the explosions came. The first two were far enough away, but the third rattled him so hard, he almost blacked out.

Using the sound of the high-speed diesel engines as his guide, Harvath slowly made his way toward the surface. As the patrol boat’s bright searchlight swept the water looking for him, Harvath located the dark shadow cast by the vessel’s hull. Now, it was all just a matter of timing.

Harvath dove back down and unlocked himself from the DPV’s arm cuffs. The patrol boat was right above him and had come to a dead stop as its searchlight continued to carve through the water. Goosing the Diver Propulsion Vehicle just to the edge of the Sokzhoi’s shadow, Harvath then opened the attached buoyancy bag’s air bottle as far as it would go and released it.

The carabiners snapped tight and the buoyancy bag began to pull the DPV upwards as Harvath swam toward the bow of the boat and began his ascent.

When the DPV broke the surface, it was immediately spotted by several heavily armed Federal Border Guard agents crowding the ship’s railing. With their attention diverted, the first thing Harvath did was take aim at the Sokzhoi’s searchlight.

The silent dart raced from the H amp;K P11 underwater pistol and hit its mark dead on. The searchlight exploded in a shower of sparks that rained down upon the forward deck of the patrol boat. For the moment, Harvath had the advantage, but it wouldn’t last long.

Just beneath the surface of the water, he activated his night vision monocle, and took aim at the men along the railing. The first three were felled with shots to the chest while the fourth, who was seating another 40mm round into his grenade launcher, caught his in the stomach.

Harvath watched the man double over and lurch against the patrol boat’s cable railing. His forward momentum carried him over the side and into the water where he landed with a loud splash. Alarms were ringing and men were rushing out onto the decks, but there was nothing they could do to save their fallen comrades, especially the man in the water.

After relieving the dying man of his weapon, which he slung over his back, Harvath retrieved the DPV and started purging the air from the buoyancy bag. Powerful handheld floodlights were being distributed to the patrol boat’s remaining crew, but by the time they began lighting up the surrounding water, Harvath was nowhere to be found.

Bobbing just out of view, he watched as the floodlight beams went from a disorganized free-for-all to a defined focus in his general direction. The patrol boat’s engines growled back to life and Harvath realized that their sonar must have picked up his signal again. Any second, the heavy 30mm guns and 14.5mm machine guns would start and the chase would be on once again.

Unshouldering the grenade launcher, Harvath took aim and waited. He had only one shot. Less than half a mile away, the fiery remains of theRebecca and the other patrol boat burned in tandem, painting the night sky with an eerie orange glow.

As the remaining Sokzhoi barreled down on him, Harvath sighted his weapon, took a deep breath and squeezed the trigger.