tc.redstormrising-第80节

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s　it's　by　submarine…〃
〃You　turned　back　at　Skagen？〃
〃Ran　out　of　film；　and　we　were　low　on　fuel。　The　fighter　opposition　really　started　picking　up　north　of　Bodo。　If　you　want　a　guess；　we　need　to　check　out　Andoya；　but　we　need　something　else　to　do　it；　SR…71　maybe。　I　don't　think　I　can　get　in　and　out　of　there　except　on　burner。　I'd　have　to　tank　right　close　to　there　even　to　try　that；　and…like　I　said；　lots　of　fighters　were　operating　there。〃
〃Hardly　matters；〃　the　group　captain　said。　〃Our　aircraft　haven't　the　legs　for　a　strike　that　far　without　massive　tanker　support；　and　most　of　our　tankers　are　mitted　elsewhere。〃





25　…　Treks

ICELAND
Once　clear　of　the　meadow；　they　were　back　in　what　the　map　called　wasteland。　It　was　level　for　the　first　kilometer；　then　the　uphill　effort　began　in　earnest　on　the　Glymsbrekkur；　a　seven…hundred…foot　climb。　So　soon　your　legs　forget；　Edwards　thought。　The　rain　hadn't　let　up；　and　the　deep　twilight　they　had　to　guide　them　forced　a　slow　pace。　Many　of　the　rocks　they　tried　to　walk　on　were　loose。　The　footing　was　treacherous；　and　a　misstep　could　easily　be　fatal。　Their　ankles　were　sore　from　the　constant　twists　on　the　uneven　ground；　and　their　tightly　laced　boots　didn't　seem　to　help　anymore。
After　six　days　in　the　back　country；　Edwards　and　his　Marines　were　beginning　to　understand　what　fatigue　was。　At　each　step　their　knees　gave　just　an　inch　or　so　too　much；　making　the　next　step　that　much　more　of　an　effort。　Their　pack　straps　cut　cruelly　into　their　shoulders。　Their　arms　were　tired　from　carrying　their　weapons　and　from　constantly　adjusting　their　gear。　Necks　sagged。　It　was　an　effort　to　look　up　and　around；　always　having　to　be　alert　for　a　possible　ambush。
Behind　them　the　glow　of　the　house　fire　disappeared　behind　a　ridgeline；　the　first　good　thing　that　had　happened。　No　helicopters　yet；　no　vehicles　investigating　the　fire。　Good；　but　how　long　would　that　last？　How　soon　would　the　patrol　be　missed？　they　all　wondered。
All　but　Vigdis。　Edwards　walked　a　few　yards　in　front　of　her；　listening　to　her　breathing；　listening　for　sobs；　wanting　to　say　something　to　her；　but　not　knowing　what。　Had　he　done　the　right　thing？　Was　it　murder？　Was　it　expediency？　Or　was　it　justice？　Did　that　matter？　So　many　questions。　He　set　them　aside。　They　had　to　survive。　That　mattered。
〃Take　a　break；〃　he　said。　〃Ten　minutes。〃
Sergeant　Smith　checked　to　see　where　the　others　were；　then　sat　down　beside　his　officer。
〃We　done　good；　Lieutenant。　I　figure　four；　maybe　five　miles　in　the　past　two　hours。　I　think　we　can　ease　up　a　little。〃
Edwards　smiled　wanly。　〃Why　not　just　stop　and　build　a　house　here？〃
Smith　chuckled　in　the　darkness。　〃I　hear　you；　skipper。〃
The　lieutenant　studied　the　map　briefly；　looking　up　to　see　how　well　it　matched　with　what　he　could　see。　〃What　say　we　go　left　around　this　marsh？　The　map　shows　a　waterfall　here；　the　Skulafoss。　Looks　like　a　nice　deep　canyon。　Maybe　we'll　get　lucky　and　find　a　cave　or　something。　If　not；　it's　deep。　No　choppers'll　e　in　there；　and　we'll　have　shadows　to　hide　in。　Five　hours？〃
〃'Bout　that；〃　Smith　agreed。　〃Roads　to　cross？〃
〃Nothing　shows　but　foot　trails。〃
〃I　like　it。〃　Smith　turned　to　the　girl；　who　watched　them　without　a　word　as　she　sat　with　her　back　against　a　rock。　〃How　do　you　feel；　ma'am？〃　he　inquired　gently。
〃Tired。〃　Her　voice　said　more　than　that；　Edwards　thought。　There　was　no　emotion　there；　none　at　all。　He　wondered　if　this　was　good　or　bad。　What　was　the　right　thing　to　do　for　the　victims　of　serious　crime？　Her　parents　murdered　before　her　eyes；　her　own　body　brutally　violated；　what　kind　of　thoughts　were　going　through　that　head？　Get　her　mind　off　it；　he　decided。
〃How　well　do　you　know　this　area？〃　the　lieutenant　asked。
〃My　father　fish　here。　I　e　with　him　many　times。〃　Her　head　leaned　back　into　a　shadow。　Her　voice　cracked　and　dropped　into　quiet　sobs。
Edwards　wanted　to　wrap　an　arm　around　her；　to　tell　her　things　were　all　right　now；　but　he　was　afraid　it　might　only　make　things　worse。　Besides；　who　would　believe　that　things　were　all　right　now？
〃How　we　fixed　for　food；　Sarge？〃
〃I　figure　we　got　maybe　four　days'　worth　of　canned　stuff。　I　went　through　the　house　pretty　good；　sir；〃　Smith　whispered。　〃Got　a　pair　of　fishing　rods　and　some　lures。　If　we　take　our　time；　we　ought　to　be　able　to　feed　ourselves。　Lots　of　good　fishin'　creeks　around　here；　maybe　at　this　place　we're　goin'。　Salmon　and　trout。　Never　could　afford　to　do　it　myself；　but　I　heard　tell　that　the　fishing's　really　something。　You　said　your　daddy's　a　fisherman；　right？〃
〃Lobsterman…close　enough。　You　said　you　couldn't　afford…〃
〃Lieutenant；　they　charge　you　like　two　hundred　bucks　a　day　to　fish　up　here；〃　Smith　explained。　〃Hard　to　afford　on　a　sergeant's　pay；　you　know？　But　if　they　charge　that　much；　there　must　be　a　shitload　of　fish　in　the　water；　right？〃
〃Sounds　reasonable；〃　Edwards　agreed。　〃Time　to　move。　When　we　get　to　that　mountain；　we'll　belly…up　for　a　while　and　get　everybody　rested。〃
〃I'll　drink　to　that；　skipper。　Might　make　us　late　getting
〃Screw　it！　Then　were　late。　The　rules　just　changed　some。　Ivan's　liable　to　be　looking　for　us。　We　take　it　slow　from　now　on。　If　our　friends　on　the　other　end　of　this　radio　don't　like　it；　too　damned　bad。　We'll　get　there　late；　but　we'll　get　there。〃
〃You　got　it；　skipper。　Garcia！　Take　the　point。　Rodgers；　cover　the　back　door。　Five　more　hours；　Marines；　then　we　sleep。〃

USS　PHARRIS
The　spray　stung　his　face；　and　Morris　loved　it。　The　convoy　of　ballasted　ships　was　steaming　into　the　teeth　of　a　forty…knot　gale。　The　sea　was　an　ugly；　foam…whipped　shade　of　green；　droplets　of　seawater　tearing　off　the　whitecaps　to　fly　horizontally　through　the　air。　His　frigate　climbed　up　the　steep　face　of　endless　twenty…foot　swells；　then　crashed　down　again　in　a　succession　that　had　lasted　six　hours。　The　ship's　motion　was　brutal。　Each　time　the　bow　nosed　down　it　was　as　though　the　brakes　had　been　slammed　on　a　car。　Men　held　on　to　stanchions　and　stood　with　their　feet　wide　apart　to　pensate　for　the　continuous　motion。　Those　in　the　open　like　Morris　wore　life　preservers　and　hooded　jackets。　A　number　of　his　young　crewmen　would　be　suffering　from　this；　ordinarily…even　professional　sailormen　wanted　to　avoid　this　sort　of　weather…but　now　mainly　they　slept。　Pharris　was　back　to　normal　Condition…3　steaming；　and　that　allowed　the　men　to　catch　up　on　their　rest。
Weather　like　this　made　bat　nearly　impossible。　Submarines　were　mainly　a　one…sensor　platform。　For　the　most　part；　they　detected　targets　on　sonar　and　the　crashing　sea　noise　tended　to　blanket　the　ship　sounds　submarines　listened　for。　A　really　militant　sub　skipper　could　try　running　at　Periscope　depth　to　operate　his　search　radar；　but　that　meant　running　the　risk　of　broaching　and　momentarily　losing　control　of　his　boat；　not　some　thing　a　nuclear　submarine　officer　looked　kindly　upon。　A　submarine　would　practically　have　to　ram　a　ship　to　detect　it；　and　the　odds　against　that　were　slim。　Nor　did　they　have　to　worry　about　air　attacks　for　the　present。　The　sea's　crenelated　surface　would　surely　confuse　the　seeker　head　of　a　Russian　missile。
For　their　own　part；　their　bow…mounted　sonar　was　useless；　as　it　heaved　up　and　down　in　a　twenty…foot　arc；　sometimes　rising　pletely　clear　of　the　water。　Their　towed…array　sonar　trailed　in　the　placid　waters　a　few　hundred　feet　below　the　surface；　and　so　could　theoretically　function　fairly　well；　but　in　practice；　a　submarine　had　to　be　moving　at　high　speed　to　stand　out　from　the　violent　surface　noise；　and　even　then　engaging　a　target　under　these　conditions　was　no　simple　matter。　His　helicopter　was　grounded。　Taking　off　might　have　been　possible；　but　landing　was　a　flat　impossibility　under　these　conditions。　A　submarine　would　have　to　be　within　ASROC　torpedo　range…five　miles…to　be　in　danger　from　the　frigate；　but　even　that　was　a　slim　possibility。　They　could　always　call　in　a　P…3　Orion…two　were　operating　with　the　convoy　at　present…but　Morris　did　not　envy　their　crews　a　bit；　as　they　buffeted　through　the　clouds　at　under　a　thousand　feet。
For　everyone　a　storm　meant　time　off　from　battle；　for　both　sides　to　rest　up　for　the　next　round。　The　Russians　would　have　it　easier。　Their　long…range　aircraft　would　be　down　for　needed　maintenance；　and　their　submarines；　cruising　four　hundred　feet　down；　could　keep　their　sonar　watches　in　fort。
〃Coffee；　skipper？〃　Chief　Clarke　came　out　of　the　pilothouse；　a　cup　in　his　hand　with　a　saucer　on　top　to　keep　the　saltwater　out。
〃Thanks。〃　Morris　took　the　cup　and　drained　half　of　it。　〃How's　the　crew　doing？〃
〃Too　tired　to　barf；　sir。〃　Clarke　laughed。　〃Sleeping　like　babies。　How　much　longer　this　slop　gonna　last；　Cap'n？〃
〃Twelve　more　hours；　then　it's　supposed　to　clear　off。　High…pressure　system　right　behind　this。〃　The　long…range　weather　report　had　just　e　in　from　Norfolk。　The　storm　track　was　moving　farther　north。　Mostly　clear　weather　for　the　next　two　weeks。　Wonderful。
The　chief　leaned　outboard　to　see　how　the　forward　deck　fittings　were　taking　the　abuse。　Every　third　or　fourth　wave；　Pharris　dug　her　nose　in　hard；　occasionally　taking　green　water　over　the　bow。　This　water　slammed　into　things；　and　the　chief's　job　was　to　get　them　fixed。　Like　most　of　the　1052s　assigned　to　the　stormy　Atlantic；　Pharris　had　been　given　spray　strakes　and　higher　bow　plating　on　her　last　overhaul；　which　reduced　but　did　not　entirely　eliminate　the　problem　known　to　sailors　since　men　first　went　to　sea：　the　ocean　wi