mreilly.icestation-第83节

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


　〃Good…bye；　Scarecrow。〃　
　Oh；　fuck！　
　They　were　going　to　fire。　Schofield　looked　frantically　around　the　cockpit　for　something　to…　
　His　eyes　fell　on　a　button　on　his　display。　
　CLOAK　MODE。　
　What　the　hell；　you've　got　nothing　to　lose。。。。　Schofield　hit　the　cloak　button　just　as；　two　hundred　yards　behind　him；　the　lead　F…22　launched　one　of　its　missiles。　
　
　
　
　What　happened　next　was　nothing　short　of　incredible。　
　Captain　John　Yates…Blue　Leader…looked　out　through　the　canopy　of　his　F…22。　In　the　dull　orange　twilight　over　the　ocean　Yates　saw　the　black　aircraft　hovering　in　the　air　in　front　of　him；　saw　the　luminescent　red　glow　of　its　tail　thrusters。　
　Then　he　saw　the　white　vapor　trail　of　his　own　missile　as　it　streaked　away　from　his　wing　and　headed　in　toward　the　black　fighter's　thrusters。　
　As　the　missile　raced　toward　its　target；　a　shimmering　haze　suddenly　descended　upon　the　black　fighter。　The　sight　was　absolutely　amazing。　It　looked　like　a　shimmering；　rippling　heat　haze…like　the　kind　that　hangs　over　a　highway　on　a　hot　summer's　day…and　it　just　descended　over　the　black　fighter　as　if　someone　were　lowering　a　curtain　over　it。　
　Suddenly　the　black　plane　was　gone。　
　
　Yates's　missile　went　berserk。　
　With　its　initial　target　lost；　the　missile　immediately　began　searching　for　another　target。　
　It　found　it　in　one　of　the　F…22s　flying　in　front　of　Schofield's　Silhouette。　The　missile　shot　into　the　tailpipe　of　the　forward　F…22　and　the　stealth　fighter　exploded　bright　orange　in　the　dark　twilight　sky。　
　Yates　was　stunned。　Voices　shouted　over　his　headset。　
　〃…just　disappeared…〃　
　〃…fucking　thing　just　vanished！…〃　
　Yates　checked　his　scopes。　The　black　fighter　didn't　appear　on　his　radar。　He　searched　the　sky　for　the　black　plane　with　his　eyes。　He　couldn't　see　it；　couldn't　see　it　anywhe…　
　And　then　he　saw　it。　
　Or　at　least　he　thought　he　saw　it。　
　Overlaid　on　the　orange　horizon　Yates　saw　a　shimmering　body　of　air。　It　looked　like　a　warped　glass　lens；　a　lens　that　had　been　superimposed　on　the　flat　horizon；　causing　one　short　section　of　that　horizon　to　ripple　continuously。　
　He　couldn't　believe　his　eyes。　
　
　Inside　the　Silhouette；　Schofield　was　already　flicking　switches。　
　The　missile　had　missed　him　and　he　could　hear　the　ments　of　the　F…22　pilots　over　his　own　radio。　The　F…22s　couldn't　see　him。　It　was　time　to　fight　back。　
　〃Renshaw！　Bring　Gant　up　here！　Wendy；　too！〃　
　Renshaw　brought　Gant　forward；　into　the　back　section　of　the　cockpit。　Wendy　loped　into　the　cockpit　behind　him。　
　〃Shut　the　cockpit　door；〃　Schofield　said。　
　Renshaw　shut　the　door。　They　were　now　cut　off　from　the　missile　bay　in　the　belly　of　the　Silhouette。　
　Schofield　flicked　a　final　switch　and　saw　a　red　warning　light　appear　on　his　puter　screen。　
　MISSILES　ARMED。　TARGETING。。。　
　The　screen　began　to　flash。　
　5　TARGETS　ACQUIRED。　READY　TO　FIRE。　
　Schofield　jammed　down　on　his　thumb　trigger。　
　At　that　moment；　the　missile　bay　door　of　the　Silhouette　opened　and　the　two　racks　in　the　missile　bay　began　to　rotate。　
　One　after　the　other；　five　missiles　dropped　through　the　missile　bay　doors　and　out　into　the　sky。　Schofield　watched　as　the　missiles　streaked　away　from　him　and　began　searching　for　their　targets　like　bloodhounds。　
　
　The　first　F…22　exploded　in　a　giant　fireball。　When　it　went　up　in　flames；　the　other　F…22　pilots　shouted　as　one。　
　〃…missile　just　came　out　of　the　fucking　sky！…〃　
　〃…can't　see　him　anywhere…〃　
　〃…bastard's　using　some　sort　of　cloaking　device…〃　
　A　couple　of　the　F…22　pilots　hit　their　afterburners；　but　it　was　no　use。　
　More　missiles　shot　out　from　the　shimmering　body　of　air　that　was　the　Silhouette。　Three　hit　their　targets　right　away；　blasted　them　to　smithereens。　
　The　sixth　and　final　F…22　tried　to　make　a　run　for　it。　It　managed　to　get　a　mile　away　before　the　missile　that　had　acquired　it…the　last　missile　to　drop　from　the　rotating　missile　racks　inside　the　Silhouette…slammed　into　its　tailpipe　and　blew　it　to　hell。　
　
　Inside　the　Silhouette；　Schofield　breathed　a　sigh　of　relief。　As　he　turned　north；　he　keyed　his　radio　again。　〃USS　Wasp。　e　in。　USS　Wasp。　Please。　e　in。〃　
　After　several　tries；　there　finally　came　a　reply。　〃Unidentified　aircraft；　this　is　Wasp。　Identify　yourself。〃　Schofield　gave　his　name　and　service　number。　The　person　at　the　other　end　checked　it　and　then　said；　
　〃Lieutenant　Schofield；　it's　good　to　hear　from　you。　The　flight　deck　has　been　cleared。　You　have　clearance　to　land。　I　am　sending　you　our　coordinates　now。〃　
　
　The　Silhouette　flew　into　the　night　
　The　USS　Wasp；　the　Marine　Corps'　aircraft　carrier…like　vessel；　was　about　eighty　nautical　miles　from　Schofield。　It　would　take　about　fifteen　minutes　to　cruise　there。　
　In　the　luminescent　green　glow　of　his　indicator　dials　Schofield　stared　out　at　the　orange　horizon。　He　had　lifted　the　cloaking　device　and　was　allowing　the　plane　to　go　on　autopilot　for　a　while。　
　The　previous　twenty…four　hours　flitted　through　his　mind。　
　The　French。　The　British。　The　ICG。　His　own　men　who　had　died　on　a　mission　that　was　never　meant　to　succeed。　Faces　flashed　across　his　mind。　Hollywood。　Samurai。　Book。　Mother。　Soldiers　who　had　died　so　that　their　country　could　lay　its　greedy　hands　on　some　extraterrestrial　technology　that　never　was。　
　A　deep　sadness　fell　over　Schofield。　
　He　leaned　forward　and　began　flicking　some　switches。　The　screen　in　front　of　him　flashed：　
　MISSILE　ARMED。　TARGETING　。。。　
　Schofield　quickly　hit　another　switch。　
　MANUAL　TARGETING　SELECTED。　
　He　maneuvered　the　target　selector　on　the　screen　until　he　found　the　target　he　was　looking　for。　He　pressed　the　select　button　on　his　stick。　
　Several　other　option　screens　appeared　and　Schofield　calmly　chose　the　options　he　wanted。　
　SET　DELAY　PERIOD：　23：00　MINS。　SAFETY　MEASURES：　DEACTIVATED。　
　Then；　when　he　was　done；　he　hit　his　thumb　trigger。　
　At　that　moment；　the　sixth　and　final　missile　inside　his　missile　bay　rotated　on　its　rack　and　dropped　down　into　the　sky。　Its　thrusters　kicked　in　and　the　missile　shot　off　into　the　distance；　climbing　high　into　the　deep　black　sky。　
　
　
　
　The　USS　Wasp　lay　at　rest　in　the　middle　of　the　Southern　Ocean。　
　It　was　a　big　ship。　With　a　length　of　844　feet；　it　was　as　long　as　two　and　a　half　football　fields。　The　enormous　five…story　superstructure　in　the　middle　of　the　ship…the　operations　center　of　the　ship　known　as　〃the　island〃…looked　down　on　the　flight　deck。　On　a　normal　day；　the　flight　deck　would　have　been　dotted　with　choppers；　Harriers；　gunships；　and　people；　but　not　today。　
　Today　the　flight　deck　was　deserted。　There　was　no　movement　on　it　at　all；　no　aircraft；　no　people。　
　It　looked　like　a　ghost　town。　
　The　Silhouette　slowed　perfectly　in　the　air　above　the　non…skid　deck　of　the　Wasp；　its　retros　firing　thin　streams　of　gas　down　onto　the　deck　beneath　it。　The　ominous　black　fighter　plane　landed　softly　on　the　flight　deck；　near　the　stern　of　the　ship。　
　Schofield　peered　out　through　the　canopy　of　the　Silhouette。　
　The　flight　deck　in　front　of　him　was　eerily　empty。　Schofield　sighed。　He　had　expected　that。　
　〃All　right；　everyone；　let's　get　out　of　here；〃　he　said。　
　Renshaw　and　Kirsty　left　the　cockpit。　Wendy　went　with　them。　Schofield　said　he　would　take　care　of　Gant。　
　Before　he　left　the　cockpit；　however；　Schofield　pulled　a　long；　thin　silver　canister　from　the　satchel　that　he　had　stretched　over　his　shoulder。　
　He　set　the　timer　on　the　Tritonal　charge　for　ten　minutes　and　then　left　it　on　the　pilot's　chair。　Then　he　picked　up　Gant　and　carried　her　out　of　the　cockpit　and　into　the　missile　bay。　Then　he　carried　her　down　the　steps　and　out　of　the　Silhouette。　
　
　The　flight　deck　was　deserted。　
　In　the　orange　twilight；　Schofield　and　his　motley　collection　of　survivors　stood　in　front　of　the　ominous　black　plane。　The　big　black　Silhouette；　with　its　sharply　pointed　down…turned　nose　and　its　sleek；　low…swept　wings；　looked　like　a　gigantic　bird　of　prey　as　it　sat　there　on　the　deserted　flight　deck　of　the　Wasp　in　the　cold　Antarctic　twilight。　
　Schofield　led　the　others　across　the　empty　flight　deck；　toward　the　five…story　superstructure　in　the　middle　of　the　ship。　It　was　a　strange　sight…Schofield　with　Gant　in　his　arms；　Renshaw　and　Kirsty；　and　last　of　all；　loping　across　the　flight　deck　behind　them；　staring　in　awe　at　the　massive　metal　vessel　all　around　her；　Wendy。　
　As　they　approached　the　island；　a　door　opened　at　the　base　of　the　massive　structure　and　a　white　light　glowed　from　inside　it。　
　Suddenly　a　man's　shadow　appeared　in　the　doorway；　silhouetted　by　the　light　behind　him。　Schofield　came　closer　and　recognized　the　owner　of　the　shadow；　recognized　the　weathered　features　of　a　man　he　knew　well。　
　It　was　Jack　Walsh。　
　The　Captain　of　the　Wasp。　The　man　who；　four　years　ago；　had　defied　the　White　House　and　sent　a　team　of　his　Marines　into　Bosnia　to　get　Shane　Schofield　out。　
　Walsh　smiled　at　Schofield；　his　blue　eyes　shining。　
　〃You've　been　getting　a　lot　of　noses　out　of　joint　today；　Scarecrow；〃　he　said　evenly。　〃Lot　of　people　talking　about　you。〃　
　Schofield　frowned。　He　had　kind　of　expected　a　warmer　reception　from　Jack　Walsh。　
　〃Why　have　you　cleared　the　deck；　sir？〃　Schofield　said。　
　〃I　didn't…〃　Walsh　began；　cutting　himself　off　as　suddenly　another　man　brushed　rudely　past　him　and　stepped　out　onto　the　flight　deck　and　just　stood　th