tc.thebearandthedragon-第167部分

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　〃e　on；　Sergeant；〃　he　ordered　his　gunner；　who　took　one　last　long　burst　before　stepping　down　and　heading　toward　the　escape　tunnel。
　Komanov　counted　off　the　men　as　they　went；　then　headed　out。　He　realized　he　hadn't　phoned　his　intentions　back　to　Regiment；　and　he　hesitated；　but；　no；　there　wasn't　time　for　that　now。　He'd　radio　his　action　from　the　moving　BTR。
　The　tunnel　was　low　enough　that　they　had　to　run　bent　over；　but　it　was　also　lit；　and　there　was　the　outer　door。　When　the　reserve　gunner　opened　it；　they　were　greeted　by　the　much　louder　sound　of　falling　shells。
　〃You　fucking　took　long　enough；〃　a　thirtyish　sergeant　snarled　at　them。　〃e　on！〃　he　urged；　waving　them　to　his　BTR…60。
　〃Wait。〃　Komanov　took　the　twist…detonator　and　attached　the　wire　ends　to　the　terminals。　He　sheltered　behind　the　concrete　abutment　that　contained　the　steel　door　and　twisted　the　handle　once。
　The　demolition　charge　was　ten　kilograms　of　TNT。　It　and　the　stored　shells　created　an　explosion　that　roared　out　of　the　escape　tunnel　with　a　sound　like　the　end　of　the　world；　and　on　the　far　side　of　the　hill　the　heavy　turret　of　the　never…finished　JS…3　tank　rocketed　skyward；　to　the　amazed　pleasure　of　the　Chinese　infantrymen。　And　with　that；　Komanov's　job　was　done。　He　turned　and　followed　his　men　to　board　the　eight…wheeled　armored　personnel　carrier。　It　was　ensconced　on　a　concrete　pad　under　a　grass…covered　concrete　roof　that　had　prevented　anyone　from　seeing　it；　and　now　it　raced　down　the　hill　to　the　north　and　safety。
　
　〃Bugging　out；〃　the　sergeant　told　the　major；　tapping　the　TV　screen　taking　the　feed　from　Marilyn　Monroe。　〃This　bunch　just　blew　up　their　gun　turret。　That's　the　third　one　to　call　it　a　day。〃
　〃Surprised　they　lasted　this　long；〃　General　Wallace　said。　Sitting　still　in　a　bat　zone　was　an　idea　entirely　foreign　to　him。　He'd　never　done　fighting　while　moving　slower　than　four　hundred　knots；　and　he　considered　that　speed　to　be　practically　standing　still。
　〃I　bet　the　Russians　will　be　disappointed；〃　the　major　said。　〃When　do　we　get　the　downlink　to　Chabarsovil？〃
　〃Before　lunch；　sir。　We're　sending　a　team　down　to　show　them　how　to　use　it。〃
　
　The　BTR　was　in　many　ways　the　world's　ultimate　SUV；　with　eight　driving　wheels；　the　lead　four　of　which　turned　with　the　steering　wheel。　The　reservist　behind　that　wheel　was　a　truck　driver　in　civilian　life；　and　knew　how　to　drive　only　with　his　right　foot　pressed　to　the　floor；　Komanov　decided。　He　and　his　men　bounced　inside　like　dice　in　a　cup；　saved　from　head　injury　only　by　their　steel　helmets。　But　they　didn't　plain。　Looking　out　of　the　rifle…firing　ports；　they　could　see　the　impact　of　Chinese　artillery；　and　the　quicker　they　got　away　from　that；　the　better　they'd　all　feel。
　〃How　was　it　for　you？〃　the　lieutenant　asked　the　sergeant　manding　the　vehicle。
　〃Mainly　we　were　praying　for　you　to　be　a　coward。　What　with　all　those　shells　falling　around　us。　Thank　God　for　whoever　built　that　garage　we　were　hidden　in。　At　least　one　shell　fell　directly　on　it。　I　nearly　shit　myself；〃　the　reservist　reported　with　refreshing　candor。　They　were　municating　in　face…to…face　shouts。
　〃How　long　to　regimental　headquarters？〃
　〃About　ten　minutes。　How　many　did　you　get？〃
　〃Maybe　two　hundred；〃　Komanov　thought；　rather　generously。　〃Never　saw　a　tank。〃
　〃They're　probably　building　their　ribbon　bridges　right　now。　It　takes　a　while。　I　saw　a　lot　of　that　when　I　was　in　Eighth　Guards　Army　in　Germany。　Practically　all　we　practiced　was　crossing　rivers。　How　good　are　they？〃
　〃They're　not　cowards。　They　advance　under　fire　even　when　you　kill　some　of　them。　What　happened　to　our　artillery？〃
　〃Wiped　out；　artillery　rockets；　came　down　like　a　blanket　of　hail；　rade　Lieutenant；　crump；〃　he　replied　with　a　two…handed　gesture。
　〃Where　is　our　support？〃
　〃Who　the　fuck　do　you　think　we　are？〃　the　sergeant　asked　in　reply。　They　were　all　surprised　when　the　BRT　skidded　to　an　unwarned　stop。　〃What's　happening？〃　he　shouted　at　the　driver。
　〃Look！〃　the　man　said　in　reply；　pointing。
　Then　the　rear　hatches　jerked　open　and　ten　men　scrambled　in；　making　the　interior　of　the　BTR　as　tight　as　a　can　of　fish。
　〃rade　Lieutenant！〃　It　was　Ivanov　from　Five　Zero。
　〃What　happened？〃
　〃We　took　a　shell　on　the　hatch；〃　he　replied；　and　the　bandages　on　his　face　told　the　truth　of　the　tale。　He　was　in　some　pain；　but　happy　to　be　moving　again。　〃Our　BTR　took　a　direct　hit　on　the　nose；　killed　the　driver　and　wrecked　it。〃
　〃I've　never　seen　shelling　like　this；　not　even　in　exercises　in　Germany　and　the　Ukraine；〃　the　BTR　sergeant　said。　〃Like　the　war　movies；　but　different　when　you're　really　in　it。〃
　〃Da；〃　Komanov　agreed。　It　was　no　fun　at　all；　even　in　his　bunker；　but　especially　out　here。　The　sergeant　lit　up　a　cigarette；　a　Japanese　one；　and　held　on　to　the　overhead　grip　to　keep　from　rattling　around　too　much。　Fortunately；　the　driver　knew　the　way；　and　the　Chinese　artillery　abated；　evidently　firing　at　random　target　sets　beyond　visual　range　of　their　spotters。
　It's　started；　Jack；〃　Secretary　of　Defense　Bretano　said。　〃I　want　to　release　our　people　to　start　shooting。〃
　〃Who；　exactly？〃
　〃Air　Force；　fighter　planes　we　have　in　theater；　to　start。　We　have　AWACS　up　and　working　with　the　Russians　already。　There's　been　one　air　battle；　a　little　one；　already。　And　we're　getting　feed　from　reconnaissance　assets。　I　can　cross…link　them　to　you　if　you　want。〃
　〃Okay；　do　that；〃　Ryan　told　the　phone。　〃And　on　the　other　issue；　okay；　turn　'em　loose；〃　Jack　said。　He　looked　over　at　Robby。
　〃Jack；　it's　what　we　pay　'em　for；　and　believe　me；　they　don't　mind。　Fighter　pilots　live　for　this　sort　of　thing…until　they　see　what　happens；　though　they　mainly　never　do。　They　just　see　the　broke　airplane；　not　the　poor　shot…up　bleeding　bastard　inside；　trying　to　eject　while　he's　still　conscious；〃　Vice　President　Jackson　explained。　〃Later　on；　a　pilot　may　think　about　that　a　little。　I　did。　But　not　everyone。　Mainly　you　get　to　paint　a　kill　on　the　side　of　your　aircraft；　and　we　all　want　to　do　that。〃
　Okay；　people；　we　are　now　in　this　fight；〃　Colonel　Bronco　Winters　told　his　assembled　pilots。　He'd　gotten　four　kills　over　Saudi　the　previous　year；　downing　those　poor　dumb　rugheaded　gomers　who　flew　for　the　country　that　had　brought　biological　warfare　to　his　own　nation。　One　more；　and　he'd　be　a　no…shit　fighter　ace；　something　he　dreamed　about　all　the　way　back　to　his　doolie　year　at　Colorado　Springs。　He'd　been　flying　the　F…l5　EAGLE　fighter　for　his　entire　career；　though　he　hoped　to　upgrade　to　the　new　F…22A　Raptor　in　two　or　three　more　years。　He　had　4；231　hours　in　the　EAGLE；　knew　all　its　tricks；　and　couldn't　imagine　a　better　aircraft　to　go　up　in。　So；　now　he'd　kill　Chinese。　He　didn't　understand　the　politics　of　the　moment；　and　didn't　especially　care。　He　was　on　a　Russian　air　base；　something　he'd　never　expected　to　see　except　through　a　gunsight；　but　that　was　okay；　too。　He　thought　for　a　moment　that　he　rather　liked　Chinese　food；　especially　the　things　they　did　to　vegetables　in　a　wok；　but　those　were　American　Chinese；　not　the　mie　kind；　and　that；　he　figured；　was　that。　He'd　been　in　Russia　for　just　over　a　day；　long　enough　to　turn　down　about　twenty　offers　to　snort　down　some　vodka。　Their　fighter　pilots　seemed　smart　enough；　maybe　a　little　too　eager　for　their　own　good；　but　friendly　and　respectful　when　they　saw　the　four　kills　painted　on　the　side　panel　of　his　F…15…Charlie；　the　lead　fighter　of　the　390th　Fighter　Squadron。　He　hopped　off　the　Russian　jeep…they　called　it　something　else　that　he　hadn't　caught…at　the　foot　of　his　fighter。　His　chief　mechanic　was　there。
　〃Got　her　all　ready　for　me；　Chief？〃　Winters　asked；　as　he　took　the　first　step　on　the　ladder。
　〃You　bet；〃　replied　Chief　Master　Sergeant　Neil　Nolan。　〃Everything　is　toplined。　She's　as　ready　as　I　can　make　her。　Go　kill　us　some；　Bronco。〃　It　was　a　squadron　rule　that　when　a　pilot　had　his　hands　on　his　aircraft；　he　went　only　by　his　call…sign。
　〃I'll　bring　you　the　scalps；　Nolan。〃　Colonel　Winters　continued　his　climb　up　the　ladder；　patting　the　decorated　panel　as　he　went。　Chief　Master　Sergeant　Nolan　scurried　up　to　help　him　strap　in；　then　dropped　off；　detached　the　ladder；　and　got　clear。
　Winters　began　his　start…up　procedures；　first　of　all　entering　his　ground　coordinates；　something　they　still　did　on　the　EAGLE　despite　the　new　GPS　locator　systems；　because　the　F…15C　had　inertial　navigation　in　case　it　broke　（it　never　did；　but　procedure　was　procedure）。　The　instruments　came　on…line；　telling　Winters　that　his　EAGLE's　conformal　fuel　tanks　were　topped　off；　and　he　had　a　full　load　of　four　AIM…120　AMRAAM　radar…guided　missiles；　plus　four　more　of　the　brand…new　AIM…9X　Sidewinders；　the　super…snake　version　of　a　missile　whose　design　went　back　to　before　his　mom　and　dad　had　married　in　a　church　up　on　Lenox　Avenue　in　Harlem。
　〃Tower；　this　is　Bronco　with　three；　ready　to　taxi；　over。〃
　〃Tower；　Bronco；　you　are　cleared　to　taxi。　Wind　is　three…zero…five　at　ten。　Good　luck；　Colonel。〃
　〃Thank　you；　Tower。　Boars；　this　is　lead；　let's　get　goin'。〃　With　that；　he　tripped　his　brakes　and　the　fighter　started　moving；　driven　by　its　powerful　Pratt　&　Whitney　engines。　A　bunch　of　Russians；　mainly　ground　crewmen；　but　judging　by　the　outfits；　some　drivers　as　well；　were　out　on　the　ramp　watching　him　and　his　flight。　Okay；　he　thought；　we'll　show　'em　how　we　do　things　downtown。　The　four　taxied　in　pairs　to　the　end　of　the　runway　and　then　roared　down　the　concrete　slabs；　and　pulled　back　into　the　air；　wingman　tucked　in　tight。　Seconds　later；　the　other　two　pulled　up　and　they　turned　south；　already　talking　to　the　nearest　AWACS；　EAGLE　Two。
　〃EAGLE　Two；　this　is　Boar　Leader　in　the　air　with　four。〃
　〃Boar　Leader；　this　is　EAGLE　Two。　We　have　you。　e　south；　vector　one…seven…zero；　climb　and　maintain　flight　level　three…three。　Looks　like　there's　going　to　be　some　work　for　ya　today；　over。〃
　〃Suits　me。　Out。〃　Colonel　Winters…he'd　just　been　deep…dip　selected　for　his　bird　as　a　full　bull　colonel…wiggled　a　little　in　his　seat　to　get　things　just　right；　and　finished　his　climb　to　33；000　feet。　His　radar　system　was　off；　and　he　wouldn't　speak　unnecessarily　because　someone　out　there　might　be　listening；　and　why　spoil　the　surprise？　In　a　few　minutes；　he'd　be　entering　the　coverage　of　Chinese　border　radar　stations。　Somebody　would　have　to　do　something　about　that。　Later　today；　he　hoped；　the　Little　Weasel　F…16s　would　go　and　see　about　those。　But　his　job　was　Chinese　fighter　aircraft；　an