Sea Devil

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Three hours out of Oahu the weather began to deteriorate.

From the jump seat of the specially configured AV-8B Harrier, Commander Brad Mackenzie anxiously scanned the line of dark clouds that seemed to fill the entire southwestern horizon.

“Looks pretty ominous,” broke the gravelly voice of the pilot over the intercom.

“From what the weather boys back at Pearl say, that low-pressure system has all the makings of a full-fledged typhoon. I sure hope it keeps tracking to the north.”

Brad Mackenzie, who was known simply as Mac to his friends and coworkers, could see only the back of the pilot’s head as he responded.

“I was thinking the same thing. Two years ago I rode out a typhoon while I was stationed at Guam. And believe me, it’s not an experience I’d like to repeat.”

“I read you loud and clear. Commander,” returned the pilot.

“Just hang in there a little bit longer. We should be sighting some of the islands of the Ratak Chain shortly. From there on, Kwajalein is practically around the corner.”

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