Operation Orion - Kevin Dockery [62]
Jackson confirmed again that the wind was falling a little bit, because the trough in the deep drifts marking the path of the fire team’s initial reconnaissance was still visible, though it was half-filled by blowing snow. Aided by the gradual descent, they made good time, reaching the edge of the incongruous pond less than ten minutes after moving out from the crest of the low ridge. The lieutenant looked back at that horizon and was not surprised that he could make out no sign of LaRue and Falco. Nevertheless, he knew they were there, and he was acutely conscious of the clock that would start ticking as soon as the last man entered the water.
The plan had been outlined before the Team had moved out, and so they wasted no time there, exposed on the pond’s shore. The bank was a steep slope of snow plummeting one or two meters almost straight down into the dark liquid. Despite the wind, the pool was sheltered by those banks, and so the surface was only moderately rippled. Jackson easily could make out the bubbles rising to the top on the far side, roiling the water and quickly evaporating into the frigid air.
In contrast to the dry powdery snow that seemed to cover this whole moon, the banks of the pond proved to be wet, almost slushy. It was possible to kick steps solid enough to support a man, and Robinson and Dobson wasted no time moving right down to the surface. They entered the water feet first, quickly vanishing beneath the surface. Jackson stayed at the edge, tapping the SEALS on the shoulders as, one by one, they passed him and entered the frigid liquid. Their headlamps were visible in the darkness, and the lieutenant could see them moving away from the bank, the lights dimming as they dropped deeper and deeper.
Ruiz and Teal moved past, sliding down the chute that had formed in the snowbank to plunge into the pond. Next came Grafton and the four other sailors. Jackson was impressed that despite the harrowing and unique nature of the task, none of them had displayed any hesitation about the mission when the LT had outlined the plan. Three of the men, including the coxswains, were armed with pistols, and two carried the spare G15s and had demonstrated already that they knew how to use the weapons. The extra men had the potential to improve the Team’s firepower significantly if it came to that.
Finally Jackson was alone out of the water. He took one last look at the crest, again feeling that tug of reluctance to divide his force. But there was nothing else to do. He didn’t even risk a farewell wave to the fire team concealed on the ridge top. For now, G-Man and Falco were on their own. Instead, the lieutenant checked his watch and slid down the slushy snow to plunge into the water of the alien pond.
The suit’s heating unit was adequate to protect him from the cold, but he was immediately conscious of the resistance caused by the cold water. Because of the heavy loads of ammunition carried by each man, the SEALS had negative buoyancy, which was an advantage for this part of the mission because they wanted to remain underwater and, presumably, out of sight. Sinking gradually, Jackson finally stood on a bare stone bottom, his head perhaps four or five meters under the surface.
The headlamps bobbed through the surprisingly clear liquid, and Jackson quickly counted all seventeen men of the infiltration party. They were moving forward, led by the intrepid Robinson. When the LT caught up to his point man, the lanky Minnesotan was pointing upward, tilting his head so that his light illuminated the objective. They were underneath an overhanging ledge of rock, and the SEALS could make out clearly the gaping mouth of the air vent, pointed straight down. The aperture was more than a meter across, blocked by a metallic grid that looked to the naked eye to be something similar to stainless steel. A steady stream of bubbles churned there, proof that this was