Each summer, the skies above the rugged, rocky shores of the Mulberry Ridge Pond echo with the sound of whispering wings. Like flimsy ghostly kites, Big Brown Bats dip and glide over the crisp waters, making their way back to Penn’s Cave after another nightly feast on insects. Today it wasn’t any different. The bats were there, but this time, not alone. It was a bizarre scene that only lasted a few minutes. There, in the middle of the pond, our old assault raft floated peacefully in the water. Its contents though, brought a sickening prospect for all living creatures in the proximity of the Mulberry Ridge. Ivanov and his men had recovered the W82-GP missile from the bottom of the pond. The missile was armed with a cobalt casing that is capable of causing a chain reaction that would incinerate the entire Mulberry Ridge atmosphere. Twenty years later, after being hidden under the pond’s murky waters, the Cobalt Bomb resurfaced thanks to Ivanov’s quest for power. My God! It was a horrifying vision of hell, waiting to happen right in front of me. Dr. Johnson sat inside the raft, holding the missile. Its wires and battery box exposed. Still in the water, a diver held to the raft, as if keeping it in place. The diver was the burly guard I last seen carrying Ivanov into the forest. On the opposite side of the pond, our helicopter could be seen exactly were we left it. Ivanov was there accompanied by more guards. - Can’t you just shoot them, Captain? - asked Sgt. Palmer frustrated. Capt. MacAlister shook his head again. - I wish it was that simple Alan. Ivanov thought of this meticulously. Dr. Johnson has exposed all the wires leading to the guidance electronics. He also removed most of the latching relay circuits. If the missile touches the water, its primary fuse circuits will trip resulting in a faux ground fault, which regrettably will detonate its payload. I can’t even send a team to the other side without the threat of them detonating the warhead. It’s terrible! - explained Capt. MacAlister, irritated. - Has Ivanov made any demands yet? - I asked. - Well, he wants a helicopter pilot. I just can’t let this mad man fly out of here with such powerful warhead. Two days of negotiations and we still haven’t got anywhere. I thought by now they would’ve given up, but they’re still holding on strong. I pondered over the situation for a few minutes. Was this the end? Perhaps if we could get closer to the raft, or force Dr. Johnson closer to the shore (away from the water) we would have a better chance of stopping such madness. Then it came to me: divers! I interrupted Capt. MacAlister and Sgt. Palmer who have been talking about the situation. - Captain, how about divers? Sir, are there any qualified military combat divers in your unit? - I asked eagerly. The Captain looked at me puzzled. - Not really. What do you have in mind Corporal Harris? I looked at the Captain straight in the eyes. Sir, our only chance is to persuade them to believe we are giving them what they want. A team of divers could launch an attack at the other shore once they unload the missile off the raft. They won’t know what hit them - I explained. - Well, it sounds interesting, but it will take sometime to get a team of divers assembled and sent here, besides, we still need a helicopter pilot - replied the Captain. - C’mon Sir! I’m a certified combat diver! The equipment is all here. I’ll go, even if alone! - I said frustrated. Behind me, I heard Roy mumble something. He had his hand up. - I’m going too! I had some training back in Key West! - repeated Roy while approaching the command post. Roy’s volunteering brought a smile to my face. The Captain mulled over the new possibilities. - How about the helicopter pilot? What do you suggest we do about that? - said Capt. MacAlister trying to understand my plan. - Just send someone there, one of your men, posing as a pilot. Hopefully if everything goes right, no one is flying out of here anyway. By now, Dr. Johnson had noticed our presence. Through the radio he made sure to let us know: - Is that you Johnny? Can’t stay away, ah? It’s so nice of you to join our little party! I’m glad to know that if I blow this rotten place up, you be going to hell along with everyone else. Oh, that makes me so happy! - said the doctor through the tiny speakers of the field radio. Captain MacAlister picked up the transmitter piece almost immediately. - Alright, you win. I’ve got your pilot, Johnson! We’ll be sending him your way shortly. Be patient and remain calm. It’s almost over! - the Captain told Dr. Johnson through the radio to everyone’s surprise. He put the transmitter down and turned to me. - This better work Harris - he said to me while waving to one of his soldiers. - Sgt. Nash! You will pose as the bogus pilot. Private Hawk! Drive Corporal Harris and Private Uchena back to Base Camp. They need to gather some equipment. The rest of you stay put - ordered Capt. MacAlister heading inside the command tent. There, we worked out a few details of my plan. Then I headed for the Jeep. I took another look towards the pond and at the raft. I winked at Susan and got in the passenger seat. While Private Hawk drove us to Base Camp to assemble our scuba gear, I couldn’t stop thinking: God help me! My plan MUST work...