tc.redstormrising-第58节

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e。

NORTH　ATLANTIC
She　was　pissed　off。　Sure；　she　thought；　I'm　good　enough　to　fly。　I'm　good　enough　to　be　an　instructor　pilot　for　the　Eagle。　Engineering　test　pilot；　assistant　project　officer　for　the　ASAT　program…I'm　good　enough　to　get　an　invite　to　Houston；　even…but　will　they　let　me　fly　bat？　No；　there's　a　war　going　on　and　I'm　nothing　but　a　Goddamned　ferry　pilot！
〃Shit。〃　Her　name　was　Amy　Nakamura。　She　was　a　major；　United　States　Air　Force；　with　three　thousand　hours　of　jet　time；　two…thirds　of　it　in　F…15s。　Short　and　stocky　like　many　fighter　pilots；　only　her　father　had　ever　called　her　beautiful。　He　also　called　her　Bunny。　When　her　fellow　pilots　found　that　one　out；　they　shortened　it　to　Buns。　She　and　three　men　were　ferrying　four　brand…new　Eagle　fighters　to　Germany　where　others…men！…would　get　to　use　them　properly。　They　each　carried　fast…pack　conformal　fuel　tanks　to　make　the　trip　in　one　long　hop；　and　for　self…defense　a　single　Sidewinder　missile；　plus　their　usual　load　of　20mm　cannon　shells。　The　Russians　let　women　fly　bat　in　World　War　II！　she　thought。　A　couple　even　made　ace！
〃Hey；　Buns；　check　your　three　o'clock！〃　called　her　wingman。
Nakamura　had　phenomenal　eyesight；　but　she　could　scarcely　believe　it。　〃Tell　me　what　you　see；　Butch。〃
〃Badgers　。。。　？〃
〃Fuckin'　Tu…16　Badgers…tallyho！　Where's　the　Navy　supposed　to　be？〃
〃Close。　Try　and　raise　'em；　Buns！〃
〃Navy　task　force；　Navy　task　force；　this　is　Air　Force　ferry　flight　Golf…Four…Niner。　We　are　eastbound　with　four　Foxtrot…One…Fives。　We　have　a　visual　on　a　Russian　bomber　formation　position…shit；　do　you　read；　over？〃
〃Who　the　hell　is　that？〃　a　Hawkeye　crewman　asked　aloud。
The　munications　technician　answered；　〃Golf…Four…Niner；　we　need　authentication。　November　Four　Whiskey。〃　This　could　be　a　Russian　playing　radio　games
Major　Nakamura　swore　to　herself　as　she　ran　her　finger　down　the　list　of　munication　codes。　There！　〃Alpha　Six　Hotel。〃
〃Golf…Four…Niner；　this　is　Navy　Hawk…One；　say　your　position。　Warning；　we　are　calling　in　the　clans　on　those　Badgers。　You'd　better　get　clear；　acknowledge。〃
〃Like　hell；　Navy；　I　got　visual　on　three…plus　Badgers　northbound；　position　forty…nine　north；　thirty…three　east。〃

〃Northbound？〃　the　intercept　officer　said。　〃Golf；　this　is　Hawk…One。　Confirm　your　visual。　Say　again　your　visual。〃
〃Hawk…One；　this　is　Golf；　I　now　have　a　dozen　Badger；　say　again　Tango…Uniform…One…Six　bombers　visual；　south　of　my　position；　heading　towards　me　and　closing　fast。　We　are　engaging。　Out。〃
〃Nothing　on　radar；　boss；〃　the　radar　operator　said。　〃That's　way　the　hell　north　of　here。〃
〃Then　what　the　hell　is　he　talking　about？〃
Major　Amelia　〃Buns〃　Nakamura　reached　down　without　looking　to　toggle　up　her　missile　and　head…up　display　to　tactical。　Then　she　flipped　the　switch　for　her　air…intercept　radar。　Her　IFF　system　interrogated　the　target　as　a　possible　friendly　and　came　up　blank。　That　was　enough。
〃Frank；　take　your　element　east。　Butch；　follow　me。　Everybody　watch　your　fuel　states。　Charge！〃
The　Badger　pilots　were　a　little　too　relaxed；　now　that　the　most　dangerous　part　of　their　mission　was　behind　them。　They　didn't　spot　the　four　American　fighters　until　they　were　less　than　a　mile　away；　their　robin's…egg…blue　paint　blending　them　in　perfectly　with　the　clear　morning　sky。
Buns　selected　her　cannon　for　the　first　pass　and　triggered　two　hundred　rounds　into　the　cockpit　of　a　Badger。　The　twin…engine　bomber　went　instantly　out　of　control　and　rolled　over　like　a　dead　whale。　One。　The　major　howled　with　delight；　pulled　the　Eagle　up　into　a　five…g　loop；　then　over　to　dive　on　the　next　target。　The　Soviets　were　alerted　now；　and　the　second　Badger　attempted　to　dive　away。　It　had　not　the　slightest　chance。　Nakamura　fired　her　Sidewinder　from　a　range　of　less　than　a　mile　and　watched　the　missile　trace　all　the　way　into　the　Badger's　left…side　engine；　and　blast　the　wing　right　off　the　airplane。　Two。　Another　Badger　was　three　miles　ahead。　Patience；　she　told　herself。　You　have　a　big　speed　advantage。　She　nearly　forgot　that　the　Russian　bomber　had　tail　guns。　A　Soviet　sergeant　reminded　her　of　it；　missing；　but　scaring　the　hell　out　of　her。　The　Eagle　jerked　in　a　six…g　turn　to　the　left　and　closed　on　a　parallel　course　before　turning　in。　The　next　burst　from　her　cannon　exploded　the　Badger　in　midair；　and　she　had　to　dive　to　avoid　the　wreckage。　The　engagement　lasted　all　of　ninety　seconds；　and　she　was　wringing　wet　with　perspiration。
〃Butch；　where　are　you？〃
〃I　got　one！　Buns；　I　got　one！〃　The　Eagle　pulled　up　alongside。
Nakamura　looked　around。　Suddenly　the　sky　was　clear。　Where　had　they　all　gone？
〃Navy　Hawk…One；　this　is　Golf；　do　you　read；　over？〃
〃Roger；　Golf。〃
〃Okay；　Navy。　We　just　smoked　four；　repeat　four；　Badgers　for　you。〃
'Make　that　five；　Buns！〃　the　other　element　leader　called　in。
〃Something's　wrong；　sir。〃　The　radar　operator　on　Hawk…One　motioned　to　his　scope。　〃We　have　these　buggers　just　popped　through；　and　they　say　they　bagged　some；　gotta　be　three；　four　hundred　miles　away。〃
〃Clipper　Base；　this　is　Hawk…One；　we　just　had　contact　with　an　Air　Force　ferry　flight　eastbound。　They　claim　they　just　splashed　five　Badgers　northbound　several　hundred　miles　north　of　us。　Say　again　northbound。〃
Toland's　eyebrows　went　up。
〃Probably　some　had　to　abort；〃　Baker　observed。　〃This　is　close　to　their　fuel　limit；　isn't　it？〃
〃Yes；　sir；〃　replied　Air/Ops。　He　didn't　look　happy　with　his　own　answer。
〃Burn…through；〃　announced　the　radar　operator。　〃We　have　reacquired　the　targets。〃
The　Kelts　had　flown　on；　oblivious　to　the　furor　around　them。　Their　radar　transponders　made　them　look　like　hundred…ten…foot　Badgers。　Their　own　white…noise　jammers　came　on；　somewhat　obscuring　them　yet　again　on　the　radar　scopes；　and　autopilot　controls　began　to　jerk　them　up；　down；　left；　right；　in　hundred…meter　leaps　as　an　aircraft　might　do　when　trying　to　avoid　a　missile。　The　Kelts　had　been　real　missiles　once；　but　on　retirement　from　front…line　service　six　years　earlier；　their　warheads　had　been　replaced　with　additional　fuel　tankage；　and　they　had　been　relegated　to　a　role　as　target　drones；　a　purpose　they　were　serving　admirably　now。
〃Tallyho！〃　The　first　squadron　of　twelve　Tomcats　was　now　a　hundred　fifty　miles　away。　The　Kelts　showed　up　perfectly　on　radar；　and　the　intercept　officers　in　the　back　seat　of　each　fighter　quickly　established　target　tracks。　The　Kelts　were　approaching　what　would　have　been　nominal　missile…launch　distance…if　they　were　the　bombers　everyone　thought　they　were。
The　Tomcats　launched　a　volley　of　million…dollar　AIM…54C　Phoenix　missiles　at　a　range　of　a　hundred　forty　miles。　The　missiles　blazed　in　on　their　targets　at　Mach…5；　directed　by　the　fighters'　targeting　radars。　In　under　a　minute　the　forty…eight　missiles　had　killed　thirty…nine　targets。　The　first　squadron　broke　clear　as　the　second　came　into　launch　position。

USS　NIMITZ
〃Admiral；　something　is　wrong　here；〃　Toland　said　quietly。
〃What　might　that　be？〃　Baker　liked　the　way　things　were　going。　Enemy　bomber　tracks　were　being　wiped　off　his　screen　just　as　the　war　games　had　predicted　they　would。
〃The　Russians　are　ing　in　dumb；　sir。〃
〃So？〃
〃So　this　far　the　Soviets　have　not　been　very　dumb！　Admiral；　why　aren't　the　Backfires　going　supersonic？　Why　one　attack　group？　Why　one　direction？〃
〃Fuel　constraints；〃　Baker　answered。　〃The　Badgers　are　at　the　limit　of　their　fuel；　they　have　to　e　in　direct。〃
〃But　not　the　Backfires！〃
〃The　course　is　right；　the　raid　count　is　right。〃　Baker　shook　his　head　and　concentrated　on　the　tactical　plot。
The　second　squadron　of　fighters　had　just　launched。　Unable　to　get　a　head…on　shot；　their　missile　accuracy　suffered　somewhat。　They　killed　thirty…four　targets　with　forty…eight　missiles。　There　had　been　a　hundred　fifty…seven　targets　plotted。
The　third　and　fourth　Tomcat　squadrons　arrived　together　and　launched　as　a　group。　When　their　Phoenixes　had　been　fully　expended；　nineteen　targets　were　left。　The　two　fighter　squadrons　moved　in　to　engage　the　remaining　targets　with　their　cannon。
〃Clipper　Base；　this　is　SAM　Boss。　We're　going　to　have　some　leakers。　Remend　we　start　lighting　up　SAM　radars。〃
〃Roger；　SAM　Boss。　Permission　granted；〃　answered　the　group　tactical　warfare　coordinator。

NORTH　ATLANTIC
〃I　have　air…search　radars；　bearing　zero…three…seven；〃　the　Bear　ESM　officer　noted。　〃They　have　detected　us。　Remend　we　illuminate　also。〃　The　Bear　lit　off　its　Big　Bulge　look…down　radar。


USS　NIMITZ
〃New　radar　contact。　Designate　Raid…2…〃
〃What？〃　snapped　Baker。　Next　came　a　call　from　the　fighters。
〃Clipper　Base；　this　is　Slugger　Lead。　I　have　a　visual　on　my　target。〃　The　squadron　mander　was　trying　to　examine　the　target　on　his　long…range　TV　camera。　When　he　spoke；　the　anguish　in　his　voice　was　manifest。　〃Warning；　warning；　this　is　not　a　Badger。　We've　been　shooting　at　Kelt　missiles！〃
〃Raid…2　is　seventy…three　aircraft；　bearing　two…one…seven；　range　one…three…zero　miles。　We　have　a　Big　Bulge　radar　tracking　the　formation；〃　said　the　CIC　talker。
Toland　cringed　as　the　new　contacts　were　plotted。　〃Admiral；　we've　been　had。〃
The　group　tactical　warfare　officer　was　pale　as　he　toggled　his　microphone。　〃Air　Warning　Red。　Weapons　free！　Threat　axis　is　two…one…seven。　All　ships　turn　as　necessary　to　unmask　batteries。〃
The　Tomcats　had　all　been　drawn　off；　leaving　the　formation　practically　naked。　The　only　armed　fighters　over　the　formation　were　Foch's　eight　Crusaders；　long　since　retired　from　the　American　inventory。　On