CVN-76 USS RONALD REAGAN
OFF THE COAST OF NIIGATA, JAPAN
SEA OF JAPAN
Rear Admiral J. J. Quinn entered the hangar bay. Other than the aircraft carrier’s small exercise room, the hangar bay was the best area on board to exercise. For several minutes, he watched. Sixteen men were running wind sprints. The pattern would vary—one lap, then a short rest, followed by three laps and a rest, then sit-ups or push-ups. They looked like they’d been doing it for at least an hour.
The pace was intense. The men were struggling. Yet not one of them stopped. It didn’t surprise Quinn. After all, all of them were from SEAL Team 6.
The frogman running the exercises was also participating. His name was Mark Fusco. He barked out orders that he and the others then followed.
Finally, Quinn stepped toward the group. Fusco saw him as he and the fifteen other SEALs were running across the length of the big bay. When Fusco reached the wall, he leaned over, hands on knees, catching his breath.
“Take a break,” yelled Fusco to the other SEALs.
“Hi, Mark,” said Quinn.
“Admiral,” said Fusco, straightening up. “What can I do for you?”
“I need you to pick three guys,” said Quinn. “You’re going to the Benfold. Osprey leaves in ten minutes.”
Fusco nodded.
“Unless I’m mistaken, the Benfold is in the Yellow Sea?” said Fusco.
“That’s right. From the Benfold, your team will boat to the coast of North Korea, then move by land to Pyongyang. You’re meeting up with a guy from Langley named Andreas. He’ll have in-theater command control, but not until you meet up.”
Fusco wiped perspiration from his face.
“J.J.,” said Fusco. “What are we doing?”
“That’s all I know,” said Quinn. “That being said, American missile defenses were raised last night. This is an Emergency Priority order. I’d take your three best men—and some ammo.”
“Understood, sir.”
Fusco turned to the group of SEALs now hanging out near a stack of tires.
“Truax, Barrazza, Kolackovsky: get your shit. We’re going to see the Rocket Man.”