cc.vixen03-第59节

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es　glazed；　unknowing；　dulled　with　confusion　and　fear；　the　rest　were　lying　amid　the　machinery　in　unnatural　poses；　blood　trick…ling　from　their　ears　and　mouths。　A　charnel　house；　Fawkes　thought；　a　damn　charnel　house。　God；　I'm　no　better　than　the　butchers　who　slaughtered　my　family。
　He　peered　down　the　center　elevator　tube　to　the　magazines　and　saw　Charles　Shaba　hammering　away　with　a　sledge　on　a　shell　cradle　that　had　bee　wedged　ten　feet　below　the　turret　deck。　The　interlock　doors；　designed　to　prevent　accidental　breech　failure　from　municating　ex…plosive　flash　to　the　magazines；　were　jammed　open；　and　to　Fawkes　it　was　like　looking　into　a　bottomless　pit。　Then　the　black　void　seemed　to　fuzz　and　he　suddenly　realized　the　problem。　The　air　was　too　foul　to　breathe。　Those　who　survived　the　concussion　caused　by　the　Satan　missile　were　dropping　from　lack　of　oxygen。
　〃Open　the　outside　hatch！〃　he　roared。　〃Get　some　fresh　air　in　here！〃
　〃She's　buckled；　Captain；〃　a　voice　rasped　on　the　other　side　of　the　turret。　〃Jammed　tight。〃
　〃The　ventilators！　Why　aren't　they　operating？〃
　〃Blown　circuits；〃　another　man　said；　coughing。　〃The　only　air　we've　got　is　what's　ing　up　through　the　magazine　tubes。〃
　In　the　choking　haze　and　gloom　Fawkes　could　barely　make　out　the　form　of　the　man　who　spoke。　〃Find　me　something　to　pry　the　hatch　open。　We've　got　to　make　a　path　for　crossventilation。〃
　He　made　his　way　around　the　bodies　and　over　the　huge　gun　mechanism　to　the　hatch　that　opened　to　the　main　deck。　Looking　at　its　seven…inch…thick　wall　of　hard　steel；　Fawkes　could　well　appreciate　what　he　was　up　against。　The　only　points　in　his　favor　were　the　shattered　locking　prongs　and　the　inch　of　daylight　showing　at　the　top　where　the　hatch　had　been　blown　inward。
　Someone　tapped　his　shoulder　and　he　turned。　It　was　Shaba。
　〃I　heard　you　down　in　the　magazine　tube；　Captain。　I　thought　you　might　need　this。〃　He　handed　Fawkes　a　heavy　steel　bar　four　feet　long　and　two　inches　thick。
　Fawkes　wasted　no　words　of　appreciation。　He　wedged　the　bar　into　the　opening　to　the　outside　and　pulled。　His　face　flushed　with　the　effort　and　his　great　arms　trembled；　but　the　hatch　would　not　budge。
　The　obstinacy　of　the　hatch　came　as　no　surprise　to　Fawkes。　It　was　an　age…old　Scottish　adage　that　nothing　fell　to　a　man's　lot　on　the　first　try。　He　closed　his　eyes　and　sucked　in　great　breaths；　hyperventilating。　Every　cell　in　his　body　focused　on　kindling　the　strength　locked　within　his　immense　body。　Shaba　watched；　fascinated。　He　had　never　seen　such　a　demonstra…tion　of　sheer　concentration。　Fawkes　reinserted　the　bar；　paused　a　few　seconds　more；　and　finally　began　to　heave。　It　looked　to　Shaba　as　though　the　captain　had　turned　to　stone；　there　was　no　obvious　hint　of　effort；　no　tenseness　of　the　muscles。　The　sweat　began　to　pop　from　Fawkes's　forehead　and　the　tendons　of　his　neck　bulged　and　tautened；　every　muscle　turned　rock　hard　with　strain；　then；　slowly；　incredibly；　the　hatch　shrieked　as　steel　scraped　against　steel。
　Shaba　could　not　believe　that　such　brute　force　existed；　he　could　not　know　of　the　secret　that　drove　Fawkes　far　above　and　beyond　his　normal　energies。　Another　inch　of　light　appeared　between　the　hatch　and　the　turret　armor。　Then；　three　inches　。。。　six　。。。　and　abruptly　the　mangled　steel　twisted　from　its　broken　hinges　and　dropped　to　the　deck　with　a　great　metallic　echo。
　Almost　immediately；　the　stench　and　smoke　were　driven　outside　and　replaced　with　cool；　damp　air　from　below。　Fawkes　stood　aside　and　tossed　the　bar　through　the　hatch；　his　clothes　soaked　through　with　sweat；　his　torso　shuddering　as　he　caught　his　breath　and　his　pounding　heart　slowed　to　normal。
　〃Clear　the　breeches　and　secure　the　guns；〃　he　ordered。
　Shaba　looked　blank。　〃We've　lost　hydraulic　pressure　to　the　power　I　rammer。　It　can't　be　reversed　to　remove　the　shells。〃
　〃Damn　the　rammer；〃　Fawkes　snorted。　〃Do　it　by　hand。〃
　
　Shaba　said　nothing　in　reply。　He　had　no　time。　A　gun　barrel　poked　through　the　open　hatch　and　a　hail　of　bullets　ricocheted　throughout　the　armored　chamber。　The　burst　whistled　past　Fawkes's　side。
　Shaba　was　not　as　lucky。　Four　bullets　entered　his　neck　almost　simulta…neously。　He　sank　to　his　knees；　his　eyes　staring　unprehendingly　at　Fawkes；　his　mouth　moving　but　expelling　no　words；　only　a　gush　of　red　that　rivered　down　his　chest。
　Fawkes　stood　by　helplessly　and　watched　Shaba　die。　Then　a　rage　swelled　inside　him　and　he　whirled　and　grabbed　the　gun　muzzle。　The　heat　from　the　barrel　seared　the　flesh　from　his　hands　but　he　was　far　beyond　any　sensation　of　pain。　Fawkes　gave　a　great　pull；　and　the　SEAL　outside；　stubbornly　refusing　to　let　go　of　his　weapon；　catapulted　past　the　narrow　aperture　and　landed　inside；　his　index　finger　still　locked　on　the　trigger。
　There　is　no　fear　in　a　man　who　knows　with　certainty　he　is　about　to　die。　Fawkes　did　not　possess　that　certainty。　His　face　was　white　with　fear；　fear　that　he　would　be　killed　before　the　Quick　Death　shell　inside　one　of　the　three　guns　could　be　deactivated。
　〃You　bloody　fool！〃　he　grunted　as　the　SEAL　kicked　him　in　the　stomach。　〃The　guns　。　。　。　inside　the　guns　。。。　a　plague　。　。　。〃
　The　SEAL　twisted　violently　and　slashed　out　with　his　free　hand　to　Fawkes's　jaw。　Fighting　to　keep　the　muzzle　away　from　his　body；　Fawkes　could　do　nothing　but　absorb　the　blow。　His　strength　was　draining　away　when　he　lurched　backward　and　fell　partially　through　the　hatch　opening；　trying　with　one　last　mighty　effort　to　yank　the　gun　from　the　SEAL's　grasp。　Instead；　the　flesh　came　away　from　his　palms　and　fingers　and　he　lost　his　grip。　The　SEAL　jumped　sideways　and　lowered　the　gun；　aiming　it　with　agonizing　deliberation　at　Fawkes's　stomach。
　Daniel　Obasi；　the　young　boy　sitting　in　the　turret　officer's　firing　booth；　watched　in　numbed　horror　as　the　SEAL'S　finger　tightened　on　the　trigger。　He　tried　to　yell；　to　distract　the　killer　in　the　black　wet　suit；　but　his　throat　was　dry　as　sand　and　a　mere　whisper　rasped　through　his　lips。　Out　of　sheer　desperation；　in　what　he　prayed　was　his　one　hope　of　saving　his　captain's　life；　Obasi　pushed　the　red　〃fire〃　button。
　
　65
　
　There　was　no　way　to　reverse　the　process；　no　way　to　halt　the　firing　sequence。　The　powder　charges　detonated　and　two　projectiles　spit　out　of　the　center　and　starboard　muzzles；　but　inside　the　port　barrel　the　warhead　jammed　tight　at　the　fracture　caused　by　the　Satan　missiles；　trapped　the　exploding　gases　at　its　base；　and　blocked　them　from　escaping。
　A　new　gun　might　have　withstood　the　tremendous　blowback　and　the　staggering　pressures　but　the　tired；　rusty　old　breech　had　seen　its　day；　and　it　shattered　and　burst。　In　a　microsecond　a　volcanic　eruption　of　flame　pressed　within　the　turret；　flashed　down　the　magazine　elevator　tubes；　and　set　off　the　powder　sacks　stored　far　below。
　The　Iowa　blew　her　guts　out。
　Patrick　Fawkes；　in　the　fleeting　instant　he　was　blasted　through　the　outside　hatch；　saw　the　utter　waste；　the　terrible　stupidity；　of　his　actions。　He　reached　out　to　his　beloved　Myrna　to　beg　her　forgiveness　as　he　；　smashed　against　the　unyielding　deck　and　was　crushed　to　pulp。
　The　armor…piercing　shell　from　the　starboard　barrel　reached　its　zenith　and　hurtled　downward　through　the　limestone　dome　of　the　National　Archives　building。　By　freakish　chance　it　fell　past　the　twenty…one　tiers　of　books　and　records；　crashed　through　the　granite　floor　of　the　exhibition　hall　less　than　ten　feet　from　the　glass　case　containing　the　Declaration　of　Independence；　and　came　to　rest　with　half　its　length　embedded　in　the　concrete　floor　of　the　subbasement。
　Shell　number　two　was　a　dud。
　Not　so　number　three。
　Activated　by　its　tiny　generator；　the　radar　altimeter　inside　the　Quick　Death　package　began　beaming　signals　to　the　ground　and　recording　its　downward　trajectory。　Lower　and　lower　the　warhead　dropped　until　at　fifteen　hundred　feet　an　electrical　impulse　popped　the　parachute　release　and　an　umbrella　of　fluorescent…orange　silk　blossomed　against　the　blue　sky。　Amazingly；　the　thirty…plus…year…old　material　took　the　sudden　strain　without　splitting　at　the　seams。
　Far　below　the　streets　of　Washington；　the　President　and　his　advisers　sat　motionlessly　in　their　chairs；　their　eyes　blinking　as　they　followed　the　relentless　descent　of　the　projectile。　At　first；　like　passengers　on　the　Titanic　who　refused　to　believe　the　huge　ocean　liner　was　sinking；　they　sat　entranced；　their　minds　unable　to　grasp　the　true　scope　of　the　events　before　them；　feebly　optimistic　that　somehow　the　mechanism　inside　the　warhead　would　fail；　causing　it　to　fall　harmlessly　onto　the　grass　of　the　mall。
　Then；　with　a　frightening　momentum；　they　all　began　to　feel　the　tighten…ing　pincers　of　despair。
　A　light　breeze　sprang　up　from　the　north　and　nudged　the　parachute　toward　the　Smithsonian　Institution　buildings。　Soldiers　who　had　blocked　off　the　streets　around　the　Lincoln　Memorial　and　the　National　Archives　building　and　crowds　of　government　employees　caught　in　the　morning　traffic　gazed　sheeplike　as　a　forest　of　hands　pointed　skyward。
　Around　the　conference　table　the　air　was　still　with　tension；　a　growing　anxiety　that　reached　insufferable　proportions。　Jarvis　could　watch　no　more。　He　placed　his　head　in　his　hands。　〃Finished；〃　he　said；　his　voice　hoarse。　〃We're　finished。〃
　〃Isn't　there　something　that　can　be　done？〃　asked　the　President；　his　eyes　locked　on　the　floating　object　on　the　viewing　screen。
　Higgins　shrugge