tc.redstormrising-第110部分

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〃I　imagine　from　seventeen　miles　off　it　doesn't　look　like　much…what　about　when　the　sucker　ignites　twenty　feet　from　my　F…15？〃　A　long　way　to　skydive；　Buns　thought。
〃I'm　sorry；　Major。　This　rocket　motor　is　nearly　ten　years　old。　Nobody　checked　our　spec　sheet　on　proper　storage　after　it　was　mated　with　the　ASAT　warhead。　We've　checked　it　out　with　X　rays　and　ultrasound。　I　think　it's　okay；　but　I　might　be　wrong；〃　the　man　from　Lockheed　said。　Of　the　six　remaining　ASAT　missiles；　three　had　been　decertified　by　the　man　for　cracks　in　the　solid…fuel　propellant。　The　other　three　were　question　marks。　〃You　want　the　truth　or　you　want　a　song　and　dance？〃
〃You　gotta　fly　it；　Major；〃　the　deputy　mander　of　Tactical　Air　mand　said。　〃It's　your　decision。〃
〃Can　we　rig　it　so　the　bird　doesn't　ignite　until　I'm　clear？〃
〃How　long　will　you　need？〃　the　engineer　asked。　Buns　thought　about　her　speed　and　maneuverability　at　that　altitude。
〃Say　ten　or　fifteen　seconds。〃
〃I'll　have　to　make　a　small　change　in　the　programming　software；　but　that　shouldn't　be　much　of　a　problem。　We'll　have　to　make　sure　that　the　missile　will　retain　enough　forward　velocity　to　keep　its　launch　attitude；　though。　You　sure　that's　enough　time？〃
〃No。　We'll　have　to　check　that　out　on　the　simulator；　too。　How　long　we　got？〃
〃Minimum　two　days；　maximum　six　days。　Depends　on　the　Navy；〃　replied　the　General。
〃Great。〃

STORNOWAY；　SCOTLAND
〃Here's　some　good　news；〃　Toland　announced。　〃An　Air　Force　F…15　Eagle　fighter　was　flying　over　a　fast　convoy　north　of　the　Azores。　Two　Bears　came　looking　for　the　ships　and　the　Eagle　got　'em　both。　That　makes　three　in　the　past　four　days。　The　Backfire　raid　appears　to　have　aborted。〃
〃What's　their　position？〃　the　group　captain　asked。
Toland　ran　his　hand　along　the　chart；　checking　latitude　and　longitude　against　the　numbers　on　the　dispatch　form。　〃Looks　like　right　about　here；　and　that　datum　is　twenty　minutes　old。〃
〃That　puts　them　over　Iceland　in　just　under　two　hours。〃
〃What　about　tankers？〃　the　Navy　fighter　mander　asked。
〃Not　on　such　short　notice。〃
〃We　can　stretch　that　far　with　two　fighters；　using　another　two　for　buddy　stores；　but　it　only　gives　them　about　twenty　minutes　on　station；　under　five　on　burner；　and　a　ten…minute　reserve　when　they　get　back　here。〃　The　fighter　boss　whistled。　〃Close。　Too　close。　We　have　to　wave　off　on　this。〃
A　phone　rang。　The　British　base　mander　grabbed。
〃Group　Captain　Mallory。　Yes　。　。　。　very　well；　scramble。〃　He　hung　up。　Klaxons　went　off　at　the　ready　shack　half　a　mile　away。　Fighter　pilots　raced　to　their　aircraft。　〃Ivan's　settled　the　argument　in　any　case；　mander。　Your　radar　aircraft　report　heavy　jamming　activity　inbound　from　the　north。〃
The　mander　raced　out　the　door　and　jumped　into　a　jeep。

NORFOLK；　VIRGINIA
The　drive　from　SACLANT　headquarters　took　ten　minutes。　The　Marines　at　the　main　gate　were　checking　everyone　and　everything　carefully；　even　a　Chevy　with　a　three…star　flag。　They　drove　to　the　waterfront　amid　an　unending　flurry　of　activity。　Trains　rolled　down　the　tracks　set　in　the　streets；　repair　shops　and　testing　facilities　worked　around　the　clock。　Even　the　McDonald's　on　the　road　immediately　outside　was　working　a　twenty…four…hour　day；　feeding　hamburgers　and　fries　to　the　men　who　took　a　few　minutes　for　nourishment。　For　sailors　spending　a　day　or　so　on　land　it　was　an　important；　if　seemingly　trivial；　touchstone。　The　car　turned　right　as　it　reached　the　docks；　past　the　submarine　piers　to　the　ones　that　held　destroyers。
〃She's　brand　new；　only　a　month　in　mission；　just　about　long　enough　to　calibrate　the　electronics；　and　they　must　have　shaved　some　time　on　that；〃　the　Admiral　said。　〃Captain　Wilkens　did　continuous　workups　on　the　transit　from　San　Diego；　but　nothing　with　helicopters　yet。　PACFLT　kept　hers；　and　I　can't　give　you　a　regular　helo　plement　either。　All　we　have　left　is　one　Seahawk…F　variant；　a　prototype　helo　they　were　evaluating　down　at　Jacksonville。〃
〃The　one　with　the　dipping　sonar？〃　Ed　Morris　asked。　〃I　can　live　with　that。　How　about　a　driver　who　knows　how　to　use　it？〃
〃It's　covered。　Lieutenant　mander　O'Malley。　We　pulled　him　out　of　a　training　billet　at　Jax。〃
〃I've　heard　the　name。　He　was　doing　systems　qualifications　on　Moosbrugger　when　I　was　tactical　action　officer　on　John　Rodgers。　Yeah；　he　knows　the　job。〃

〃Have　to　drop　you　off　here。　I'll　be　back　in　an　hour；　after　I　have　a　look　at　what's　left　of　the　Kidd。〃
Reuben　James。　Her　raked　clipper　bow　marked　with　hull　number　57　hung　over　the　dock　like　a　guillotine　blade。　His　weariness　momentarily　forgotten；　Morris　stepped　out　of　the　Chevy　to　examine　his　new　mand　with　all　the　quiet　enthusiasm　of　a　man　with　his　newborn　child。
He'd　seen　FFG…7…class　frigates；　but　never　been　aboard　one。　Her　severe　hull　lines　reminded　him　of　a　Cigarette　racing　yacht。　Six　five…inch　mooring　lines　secured　her　to　the　pier；　but　the　sleek　form　already　seemed　to　be　straining　at　them。　At　only　3900　tons　full　load；　not　a　large　ship　but　manifestly　a　fast　one　to　go　in　harm's　way。
Her　superstructure　was　an　aesthetic　embarrassment；　with　all　the　grace　of　a　brick　garage；　topped　with　antenna　whips　and　radar　masts　that　looked　like　they　had　been　built　by　a　child's　erector　set；　but　Morris　saw　the　functional　simplicity　of　the　design。　The　frigate's　forty　missiles　were　tucked　away　in　circular　racks　forward。　Her　boxy　after　deckhouse　contained　enough　room　for　a　pair　of　deadly　ASW　helicopters。　Her　hull　was　sleek　because　speed　required　it。　Her　superstructure　was　boxy　because　it　had　to　be。　This　was　a　warship；　and　whatever　beauty　Reuben　James　might　have　had　was　accidental。
Sailors　wearing　blue　shirts　and　jeans　moved　rapidly　across　three　gangways；　bringing　supplies　aboard　for　an　immediate　sailing。　Morris　walked　briskly　to　the　after　gangway。　A　Marine　guard　saluted　him　at　the　foot　of　the　brow　and　an　officer　on　the　frigate's　deck　frantically　ordered　preparations　to　receive　his　new　CO。　The　ship's　bell　was　struck　four　times；　and　mander　Ed　Morris　assumed　his　new　identity。
〃Reuben　James；　arriving。〃
Morris　saluted　the　colors；　then　the　officer　of　the　deck。
〃Sir；　we　didn't　expect　you　for　another…〃　the　lieutenant　blurted。
〃How's　the　work　going？〃　Morris　cut　him　off。
〃Two　more　hours；　tops；　sir。〃
〃Fine。〃　Morris　smiled。　〃We　can　worry　about　the　Mickey　Mouse　later。　Get　back　to　work；　Mister…〃
〃Lyles；　sir。　Ship　control　officer。〃
And　what　the　hell　is　that？　Morris　wondered。　〃Okay；　Mr。　Lyles。　Where's　the　XO？〃
〃Right　here；　skipper。〃　The　executive　officer　had　grease　on　his　shirt　and　a　smudge　on　his　cheek。　〃I　was　in　the　generator　room。　Pardon　the　way　I　look。〃
〃What　kind　of　shape　are　we　in？〃
〃It'll　do。　Full　load　of　fuel　and　weapons。　The　tail's　fully　calibrated…〃
〃How'd　you　do　that　so　fast？〃
〃It　wasn't　easy；　sir；　but　we　got　it　done。　How's　Captain　Wilkens？〃
〃The　docs　say　he'll　be　all　right；　but…well；　he's　out　of　the　business　for　a　while。　I'm　Ed　Morris。〃　Captain　and　executive　officer　shook　hands。
〃Frank　Ernst。　First　time　I've　operated　in　the　Atlantic　Fleet。〃　The　lieutenant　mander　smiled　crookedly。　〃Picked　a　great　time　for　it。
Anyway；　we're　in　good　shape；　skipper。　Everything　works。　Our　helo　pilot's　up　in　the　bat　Information　Center　with　the　tactical　guys。　We　got　Jerry　the　Hammer。　I　played　ball　with　him　at　Annapolis；　he's　good　people。　We　got　three　real　good　chiefs。　One's　a　qualified　officer　of　the　deck。　The　crew's　on　the　young　side；　but　I'd　say　we're　about　as　ready　as　you　could　ask。　Ready　to　sail　in　two；　three　hours；　tops。　Where's　your　personal　gear；　sir？〃
〃It　ought　to　be　here　in　half　an　hour。　What　was　the　problem　below？〃
〃No　sweat。　An　oil　line　let　go　on　number…three　diesel　generator。　Yard　goof；　wasn't　welded　right。　It's　fixed。　You'll　love　the　engine　room；　skipper。　On　builder's　trials　in　five…foot　seas　we　topped　out　at　thirty…one…and…a…half　knots。〃　Ernst　raised　his　eyebrows。　〃Fast　enough？〃
〃And　the　stabilizers？〃　Morris　asked。
〃They　work　just　fine；　skipper。〃
〃What　about　the　ASW　troops？〃
〃Let's　meet　'em。〃
Morris　followed　his　XO　into　the　superstructure。　They　proceeded　forward　between　the　two　helicopter　hangars；　then　to　the　left　past　officers　country　and　up　a　ladder。　The　bat　Information　Center　was　located　one　level　below　and　just　aft　of　the　bridge；　adjoining　the　manding　officer's　stateroom。　Dark　as　a　cave；　it　was　newer　than　Pharris's　and　larger；　but　no　less　crammed。　Twenty　or　more　people　were　at　work　running　a　simulation。
〃No；　Goddammit！；　howled　a　loud　voice。　〃You　have　to　react　faster。　This　here's　a　Victor；　and　he　ain't　gonna　wait　for　you　to　make　up　your　damn　mind！〃
〃Attention　on　deck！　Captain　in　bat；〃　called　Ernst。
〃As　you　were；〃　called　Morris。　〃Who's　that　loud　sunuvabitch？〃
A　barrel…chested　man　emerged　from　the　shadows。　His　eyes　were　surrounded　by　crinkles　from　looking　into　too　many　low　suns。　So　this　was　Jerry　the　Hammer　O'Malley。　He　knew　him　only　by　a　crackling　voice　on　a　UHF　radio；　and　by　his　reputation　as　a　sub…hunter　who　cared　more　for　his　trade　than　promotion　boards。
〃I　guess　you　mean　me；　Captain。　O'Malley。　I'm　supposed　to　drive　your　Seahawk…Foxtrot。〃
〃You're　right　about　the　Victor。　One　of　those　bastards　blew　my　first　ship　near　in　half。〃
〃Sorry　to　hear　that；　but　you　oughta　know　that　Ivan's　putting　his　best　skippers　in　the　Victors。　She　handles　better　than　anything　else　they　got；　and　that　rewards　a　smart　driver。　So　you　were　up　against　the　varsity。　Did　you　have　him　outside？〃
Morris　shook