Island Warriors

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Ku K’ai-Chih stared straight ahead as the water crept up his torso. It was cold, around fifty-five degrees farenheit, but his insulated dry suit made it more a pressure than a temperature change. Water continued to pour into the small lockout chamber of the submarine at a rate that would have panicked many men, but Ku had done this too many times to be concerned. Another few minutes, and he would no longer have the option of breathing the air that was rapidly hissing out through the exhaust tubes. Then, the lockout procedure itself: undogging the hatch by forcing the heavy wheel to turn, and swimming out in the black, featureless water.

The first few seconds were always the worst, the shock of going from the dim red lights of the lockout chamber into the utter blackness of the ocean. The sub would be shallow, and reaching the surface would not take long.

The weather predictions called for a mostly cloudy night, with even a slight chance of rain. The moon was a mere sliver, its pale light blocked out by the cloud cover. It would hide him from prying eyes, from anyone who might wonder what a swimmer was doing out in the middle of the ocean.

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