tc.redstormrising-第94部分

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p　for　8th　Guards　Army。　Since　the　war　had　begun；　the　Soviet　Army　had　been　trying　to　break　one　of　these　powerful　units　into　the　NATO　rear。　It　was　now　possible。
〃Well　done；　rade　General；〃　Alekseyev　said。　The　plotting　table　showed　a　general　breakthrough。　Three　of　the　four　attacking　motor…rifle　divisions　had　broken　through　the　German　lines。
The　MiGs　succeeded　in　killing　one　of　the　AWACS　aircraft　and　three　Eagle　fighters；　at　the　price　of　nineteen　of　their　own；　in　a　furious　air　battle　that　lasted　fifteen　minutes。　The　surviving　AWACS　was　back　at　altitude　now；　eighty　miles　behind　the　Rhein；　and　its　radar　operators　were　working　to　reestablish　control　of　the　air　battle　over　central　Germany　as　the　MiGs　ran　for　home　through　a　cloud　of　NATO　surface…to…air　missiles。　At　murderous　cost　they　had　acplished　a　mission　for　which　they　had　not　even　been　briefed。
But　this　was　only　the　beginning。　Now　that　the　initial　attack　had　succeeded；　the　most　difficult　part　of　the　battle　was　under　way。　The　generals　and　colonels　manding　the　attack　had　to　move　their　units　forward　rapidly；　careful　to　keep　the　formations　intact　as　they　leapfrogged　their　artillery　southwest　to　provide　continuous　support　for　the　advancing　regiments。　The　tank　division　had　the　highest　priority。　It　had　to　hit　the　next　set　of　German　lines　only　minutes　behind　the　motor…rifle　troops；　in　order　to　reach　Alfeld　before　nightfall。　Units　of　the　field　police　established　preplanned　traffic…control　points；　and　directed　units　down　roads　whose　marker　signs　had　been　removed　by　the　Germans…of　course。　The　process　was　not　as　easy　as　might　have　been　expected。　Units　were　not　intact。　Some　manders　were　dead；　vehicles　had　broken　down；　and　damaged　roads　slowed　traffic　well　below　normal　rates　of　advance。
For　their　part　the　German　troops　were　trying　to　reorganize。　Rear　guard　units　lingered　behind　every　turn　in　the　road；　pausing　to　loose　their　antitank　missiles　at　the　hard…charging　Soviet　advance　guard；　which　took　a　particularly　heavy　toll　of　unit　manders。　Allied　aircraft　were　reorganizing　also；　and　low…level　attack　fighters　began　to　engage　the　Soviet　units　in　the　open。
Behind　the　sundered　battle　line　a　German　tank　brigade　rolled　into　Alfeld；　with　a　Belgian　motorized　regiment　ten　minutes　behind。　The　Germans　proceeded　northeast　on　the　main　road；　watched　by　citizens　who　had　just　been　ordered　to　evacuate　their　homes。

FASLANE；　SCOTLAND
〃No　luck；　eh？〃　asked　Todd　Simms；　mander　of　USS　Boston。
〃None；〃　McCafferty　confirmed。　Even　the　trip　into　Faslane　had　been　unlucky。　The　guard　ship　for　the　safe…transit　corridor；　HMS　Osiris；　had　gotten　into　attack　position　without　their　having　detected　her。　Had　that　Brit　diesel　sub　been　a　Russian；　McCafferty　could　very　well　be　dead　now。　〃We　had　our　big　chance　against　that　amphibious　group。　Things　were　going　perfect；　y'know？　The　Russians　had　their　sonobuoy　lines　out；　and　we　beat　them　clean；　just　about　had　our　targets　lined　up　for　the　missile　attack…I　figured　we'd　hit　with　our　missiles　first；　then　go　in　with　torpedoes…〃
〃Sounds　good　to　me；〃　Simms　agreed。
〃And　somebody　else　launches　his　own　torpedo　attack。　Screwed　everything　up。　We　lofted　three　Harpoons；　but　a　helo　saw　us　do　it；　and；　bingo！　we　had　the　bastards　all　over　us。〃　McCafferty　pulled　open　the　door　to　the　Officers　Club。　〃I　need　a　drink！〃
〃Hell；　yes！〃　Simms　laughed。　〃Everything　looks　better　after　a　few　beers。　Hey；　that　sort　of　thing　happens。　Luck　changes；　Danny。〃　Simms　leaned　over　the　bar。　〃Two　strong　ones。〃
〃As　you　say；　mander。〃　A　white…coated　steward　drew　two　mugs　of　warm；　dark　beer。　Simms　picked　up　the　bill　and　led　his　friend　to　a　corner　booth。　There　was　some　sort　of　small　party　going　on　at　the　far　end　of　the　room。
〃Danny；　for　crying　out　loud；　let　up　on　yourself。　Not　your　fault　that　Ivan　didn't　send　you　any　targets；　is　it？〃
McCafferty　took　a　long　pull　on　his　mug。　Two　miles　away　Chicago　was　reprovisioning。　They'd　be　in　port　for　two　days。　Boston　and　another　688…class　sub　were　tied　to　the　same　quay；　with　another　pair　due　in　later　today。
They　were　to　be　outfitted　for　a　special　mission；　but　they　didn't　yet　know　what　it　was。　In　the　meantime；　the　officers　and　crewmen　were　using　their　modicum　of　free　time　to　breathe　fresh　air　and　unwind。　〃You're　right；　Todd；　right　as　ever。〃
〃Good。　Have　some　pretzels。　Looks　like　quite　a　shindig　over　there。　How　about　we　wander　over？〃　Simms　lifted　his　beer　and　walked　to　the　end　of　the　room。
They　found　a　gathering　of　submarine　officers；　which　was　not　a　surprise；　but　the　center　of　attention　was。　He　was　a　Norwegian　captain；　a　blond　man　of　about　thirty　who　clearly　hadn't　been　sober　for　several　hours。　As　soon　as　he　drained　one　jar　of　beer；　a　Royal　Navy　mander　handed　him　another。
〃I　must　find　the　man　who　save　us！〃　the　Norwegian　insisted　loudly　and　drunkenly。
〃What　gives？〃　Simms　asked。　Introductions　were　exchanged。　The　Royal　Navy　officer　was　captain　of　HMS　Oberon。
〃This　is　the　chappie　who　blasted　Kirov　all　the　way　back　to　Murmansk；〃　he　said。　〃He　tells　the　story　about　every　ten　minutes。　About　time　for　him　to　begin　again。〃
〃Son　of　a　bitch；〃　McCafferty　said。　This　was　the　guy　who　had　sunk　his　target！　Sure　enough；　the　Norwegian　began　speaking　again。
〃We　make　our　approach　slowly。　They　e　right〃…he　belched…〃to　us；　and　we　creep　very　slow。　I　put　periscope　up；　and　there　he　is！　Four　thousand　meters；　twenty　knots；　he　will　pass　within　five　hundred　meters　starboard。〃　The　beer　mug　swept　toward　the　floor。　〃Down　periscope！　Arne…where　are　you；　Arne？　Oh；　is　drunk　at　table。　Arne　is　weapons　officer。　He　set　to　fire　four　torpedoes。　Type　thirty…seven；　American　torpedoes。〃　He　gestured　at　the　two　American　officers　who　had　just　joined　the　crowd。
Four　Mark…37s！　McCafferty　winced　at　the　thought。　That　could　ruin　your　whole　day。
〃Kirov　is　very　close　now。　Up　periscope！　Course　same；　speed　same；　distance　now　two　thousand　meters…I　shoot！　One！　Two！　Three！　Four！　Reload　and　dive　deep。〃
〃You're　the　guy　who　ruined　my　approach！〃　McCafferty　shouted。
The　Norwegian　almost　appeared　sober　for　a　moment。　〃Who　are　you？〃
〃Dan　McCafferty；　USS　Chicago。
〃You　were　there？〃
〃Yes。〃
〃You　shoot　missiles？〃
〃Yes。〃
〃Hero！〃　The　Norwegian　submarine　mander　ran　to　McCafferty；　almost　knocking　him　down　as　he　wrapped　the　American　in　a　crushing　bear　hug。　〃You　save　my　men！　You　save　my　ship！〃
〃What　the　hell　is　this？〃　Simms　asked。
〃Oh；　introductions；〃　said　a　Royal　Navy　captain。　〃Captain　Bjorn　Johannsen　of　His　Norwegian　Majesty's　submarine　Kobben。　Captain　Daniel　McCafferty　of　USS　Chicago。〃
〃After　we　shoot　Kirov；　they　e　around　us　like　wolves。　Kirov　blow　up…〃
〃Four　fish？　I　believe　it；〃　Simms　agreed。
〃Russians　e　to　us　with　cruiser；　two　destroyers；〃　Johannsen　continued；　now　quite　sober。　〃We；　ah；　evade；　go　deep；　but　they　find　us　and　fire　their　RBU　rockets…many；　many　rockets。　Most　far；　some　close。　We　reload　and　I　shoot　at　cruiser。〃
〃You　hit　her？〃
〃One　hit；　hurt　but　not　sink。　This　take；　I　am　not　sure；　ten　minutes；　fifteen。　It　was　very　busy　time；　yes？〃
〃Me；　too。　We　came　in　fast；　flipped　on　the　radar。　There　were　three　ships　where　we　thought　Kirov　was。〃
〃Kirov　was　sunk…blow　up！　What　you　see　was　cruiser　and　two　destroyers。　Then　you　shoot　missiles；　yes？〃　Johannsen's　eyes　sparkled。
〃Three　Harpoons。　A　Helix　saw　the　launch　and　came　after　us。　We　evaded；　never　did　know　if　the　missiles　hit　anything。〃
〃Hit？　Hah！　Let　me　tell　you。〃　Johannsen　gestured。　〃We　dead；　battery　down。　We　have　damage　now；　cannot　run。　We　already　evade　four　torpedoes；　but　they　have　us　now。　Sonar　have　us。　Destroyer　fire　RBU　at　us。　First　three　miss；　but　they　have　us。　Then…Boom！　Boom！　Boom！　Many　more。　Destroyer　blow　up。　Other　hit；　but　not　sink；　I　think。
〃We　escape。〃　Johannsen　hugged　McCafferty　again；　and　both　spilled　their　beer　on　the　floor。　The　American　had　never　seen　a　Norwegian　display　this　much　emotion；　even　around　his　wife。　〃My　crew　alive　because　of　you；　Chicago！　I　buy　you　drink。　I　buy　all　your　men　drink。〃
〃You　are　sure　we　killed　that　tin　can？〃
〃You　not　kill；〃　Johannsen　said。　〃My　ship　dead；　my　men　dead；　I　dead。　You　kill。〃　A　destroyer　wasn't　exactly　as　good　as　sinking　a　nuclear…powered　battle　cruiser；　McCafferty　told　himself；　but　it　was　a　whole　lot　better　than　nothing；　too。　And　a　piece　of　another；　he　reminded　himself。　And　who　knows；　maybe　that　one　sank　on　the　way　home。
〃Not　too　shabby；　Dan；〃　Simms　observed。
〃Some　people；〃　said　the　skipper　of　HMS　Oberon；　〃have　all　the　bloody　luck！〃
〃You　know；　Todd；〃　said　the　manding　officer　of　USS　Chicago；　〃this　is　pretty　good　beer。〃

USS　PHARRIS
There　were　only　two　bodies　to　bury。　Another　fourteen　men　were　missing　and　presumed　dead；　but　for　all　that；　Morris　counted　himself　fortunate。　Twenty　sailors　were　injured　to　one　extent　or　another。　Clarke's　broken　forearm；　a　number　of　broken　ankles　from　the　shock　of　the　torpedo　impact；　and　a　half…dozen　bad　scaldings　from　ruptured　steam　pipes。　That　didn't　count　minor　cuts　from　flying　glass。
Morris　read　through　the　ceremony　in　the　manual；　his　voice　emotionless　as　he　went　through　the　words　about　the　sure　and　certain　hope　of　how　the　sea　will　one　day　give　up　her　dead　。　。　。　On　mand　the　seamen　tilted　up　the　mess　tables。　The　bodies　wrapped　in　plastic　bags　and　weighted　with　steel　slid　out　from　under　the　flags；　dropping　straight　into　the　water。　It　was　ten　thousand　feet　deep　here；　a　long　last　trip　for　his　executive　officer　and　a　third…clas