Devil's Fork

CHAPTER 32

  WEDNESDAY

  Northeast Coast, North Korea

  Tom was kneeling at the edge of the woods. A long dirt road stretched out in front of him. Past him it also went as far back as the eye could see. Tom was at Waypoint 1. The plan was to get to this road and follow it at the edge of the woods until it reached a particular ridge. The ridge led to a smaller dirt path that went directly to the base.

  For now Tom sat and watched the road through his night vision goggles. He had avoided that last KPA patrol with the zig zag run. In fact, he had veered a bit more to his right to get away.

  Before moving up this road, Tom wanted to observe it. He wanted to see if there were any patrols on it or if anyone else was observing the road. He was looking for anyone trying to see him walking along it.

  Up ahead, about 1,500 feet away Tom could see a vehicle patrol. A military car was driving towards him. On it a large, bright light was shining on the woods. It was shining on the side of the woods he was on. Around the vehicle, several KPA soldiers were walking on foot. The group was moving very slowly.

  Strange that they are just giving away their position like that.

  Tom took a moment to think to himself. If he were trying to find an operative, he would try to do it quietly. Someone can see a light and then maneuver around it. The smart thing to do would have been to have people quietly sitting and watching for movement along the road without a light.

  Suddenly Tom’s earpiece started talking.

  “I hope you are going to avoid that patrol.”

  Tom whispered into his microphone.

  “Affirmative. I am observing them right now. I will evade them once they are within 1,000 feet of my position. Over.” It helped that the Command Room could see what he was seeing. But it also felt strange sometimes when they commented on what they saw in front of him Tom thought.

  He looked through the scope on his M4 at the team ahead. Now they looked like they were standing around. Their flashlight was large and bright and focused on the section of forest in front of them. One of the men had what looked like a radio up to his ear. He seemed to be nodding. Tom tried to look more carefully. Most of the soldiers did not even seem to be looking for anything. They were standing around. Maybe one was actually looking at the forest.

  What are they doing?

  Maybe they are just taking a break from patrolling, he thought. He knew that he needed to get around them somehow to continue down the road. He realized one option was to cross the road and move along the other side. That side did not have a flashlight shining at it and it did not appear that the patrol was observing it at all. Tom stared for a minute at the road in front of him. It was open space. He estimated that he would need to cross about twenty feet to get to the other side. That twenty feet had no cover. He would have to run across open air and be completely visible for a moment. He already had to do this on the beach, and he felt he had accomplished a miracle by not being seen. He might as well have walked on water. Trying this again would not feel right he thought.

  He thought about his other option. He could go back into the woods behind him, where he just had been playing hide-and-seek. If he went deep enough, he could walk past the unit ahead without being seen by its large flashlight. But then he would be back in the midst of the many patrols in those woods. He had just maneuvered past them.

  He continued sitting right at the edge of the woods, staring through his M4. He was weighing the benefits of each option.

  Suddenly he smelled something unusual. He lowered his M4 and focused on the smell.

  Cigarette smoke.

  He looked across the road, but could not see anyone. Then he looked behind him at the road stretching in the opposite direction. There was a squad of soldiers walking at the side of the road 30 feet from him. Several were smoking. They were walking at a brisk pace and for the moment did not see him, both because of the pitch-black night and the fact that he was nestled at the edge of the woods. But these soldiers were looking around actively. They were searching. Tom assumed that in less than half a minute, one of these soldiers would see him. He had no choice now. Almost without thinking, he backed up into the woods, turned around, and started moving deeper into the forest from which he had just come. He could feel an adrenaline rush kick in. He was displeased with the amount of noise he had made turning around. Thirty feet away, he thought, they had to have heard him. He picked up his pace to put some distance between him and that patrol. He could not hear anything behind him and did not turn around to see. He imagined that a SERE instructor would have yelled at him for what he just did. He made two mistakes after doing one thing right. First, he disturbed some vegetation as he quickly tried to turn around and get back into the woods. That KPA patrol, he thought, would now be able to examine the bushes and branches at the edge of the forest and figure out that someone had been sitting there. Second, he was now jogging. Movement was supposed to be slow and controlled. But he had no time. He had been surprised. Smelling the smoke was one thing he performed correctly. Tom remembered that at SERE they were trained to actively look, listen, and smell. Smells could often alert one to enemy presence before looking or listening would. The smell of a campfire traveled far and wide. In this case, without focusing on smells, Tom would not have seen those soldiers until it was too late.

  His mind continued running through what just happened.

  How did that patrol come out of nowhere?

  Now he heard voices coming behind him from the edge of the woods. The patrol had stopped.