tc.redstormrising-第102部分

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〃He's　only　a　wing…wiper；　but　he's　doin'　all　right。　How's　the　ankle？〃
〃I'll　have　to　walk　on　it　whether　it's　fit　or　not。　Does　he　know　what　he's　about？〃
〃The　skipper？　I　watched　him　kill　three　Russians　with　a　knife。　That　good　enough？〃
〃Bloody　hell。〃

33　…　Contact

USS　REUBEN　JAMES
〃Captain？〃
Morris　started　at　the　hand　on　his　shoulder。　He'd　just　wanted　to　lie　down　in　his　stateroom　for　a　few　minutes　after　conducting　helicopter　night　landing　practice；　and…he　checked　his　watch。　After　midnight。　His　face　was　sweaty。　The　dream　had　just　started　again。　He　looked　up　at　his　executive　officer。
〃What　is　it；　XO？〃
〃We　got　a　request　to　check　something　out。　Probably　a　snowbird；　but　well；　see　for　yourself　〃
Morris　took　the　dispatch　with　him　to　his　private　bathroom；　tucked　it　in　his　pocket；　then　washed　his　face　quickly。
〃'Unusual　contact　repeated　several　times；　have　attempted　localization　without　success'？　What　the　hell　is　this　supposed　to　be？〃　he　asked；　toweling　off。
〃Beats　the　hell　out　of　me；　skipper。　Forty　degrees；　thirty　minutes　north；　sixty…nine；　fifty　west。　They　got　a　location　but　no　ID。　I'm　having　the　chart　pulled　now。〃
Morris　ran　his　hand　through　his　hair。　Two　hours　sleep　was　better　than　none。　Wasn't　it？　〃Okay；　let's　see　how　it　looks　from　CIC。〃
The　tactical　action　officer　had　the　chart　out　on　the　table　next　to　the　captain's　chair。　Morris　checked　the　main　tactical…display　scope。　They　were　still　far　offshore　in　accordance　with　their　orders　to　check　out　the　hundred…fathom　curve。
〃That's　way　the　hell　away　from　here〃；　Morris　observed　immediately。　There　was　something　familiar　about　the　location。　The　captain　bent　over　the　chart。
〃Yes　sir；　about　a　sixty…mile　run〃；　Ernst　agreed。　〃Shallow　water；　too。　Can't　use　the　towed　array　there。〃
〃Oh；　I　know　what　this　place　is！　That's　where　the　Andrea　Doria　sank。　Probably　somebody's　got　a　MAD　contact　and　didn't　bother　checking　his　chart。〃
〃Don't　think　so。〃　O'Malley　emerged　from　the　shadows。　〃A　frigate　heard　something　first。　The　winch　on　their　tail　was　busted。　They　didn't　want　to　lose　it；　so　they　were　heading　into　Newport　instead　of　New　York　because　the　harbors　deeper。　They　say　they　copied　a　strange　passive…sonar　contact　that　faded　out。　They　did　a　target…motion　analysis　and　generated　this　position。　Their　helicopter　made　a　few　passes；　and　its　magnetic　anomaly　detector　registered　right　over　the　Doria；　and　that　was　that。〃
〃How'd　you　find　that　out？〃
O'Malley　handed　over　a　message　form。　〃Came　in　right　after　the　XO　went　to　get　you。　They　sent　an　Orion　to　check　it。　Same　story。　They　heard　something　odd；　and　it　faded　out。〃
Morris　frowned。　They　were　chasing　after　a　wild　goose；　but　the　orders　came　from　Norfolk。　That　made　it　an　official　wild…goose　chase。
〃What's　the　helo　status？〃
〃I　can　be　up　in　ten　minutes。　One　torpedo　and　an　auxiliary　fuel　tank。　All　the　gear's　on　line。〃
〃Tell　the　bridge　to　take　us　there　at　twenty…five　knots。　Battleaxe　know　about　this？〃　He　got　a　nod。　〃Okay。　Signal　them　what　we're　up　to。　Winch　in　the　tail。　Won't　do　us　any　good　where　we're　going。　O'Malley；　we'll　close　to　within　fifteen　miles　of　the　contact　and　have　you　search　for　it。　That　puts　you　in　the　air　about　0230。　If　you　need　me；　I'll　be　in　the　wardroom。〃　Morris　decided　to　sample　his　new　ship's　〃mid…rats。〃　O'Malley　was　headed　the　same　way。
〃These　ships　are　a　little　weird〃；　the　flyer　said。
Morris　grunted　agreement。　The　main　fore…and…aft　passageway　was　on　the　port　side　instead　of　the　centerline；　for　one　thing。　The　〃figs〃　broke　a　number　of　longstanding　traditions　in　ship　design。
O'Malley　went　down　the　ladder　first　and　opened　the　wardroom　door　for　the　captain。　They　found　two　junior　officers　in　front　of　the　TV　set；　watching　a　taped　movie　that　had　mainly　to　do　with　fast　cars　and　naked　women。　The　tape　machine；　Morris　had　already　learned；　was　run　from　the　chiefs'　quarters。　One　result　of　this　was　that　a　particularly　attractive　chest　was　instant　replayed　for　all　hands。
Midwatch　rations；　or　〃mid…rats；〃　was　an　open　loaf　of　bread　and　a　plate　of　cold　cuts。　Morris　got　himself　a　cup　of　coffee　and　built　a　sandwich。　O'Malley　opted　for　a　fruit　drink　from　the　cooler　on　the　after　bulkhead。　The　official　Navy　term　for　it　was　bug　juice。
〃No　coffee？〃　Morris　asked。　O'Malley　shook　his　head。
〃Too　much　makes　me　jumpy。　You　don't　want　shaky　hands　when　you're　landing　a　helo　in　the　dark。〃　He　smiled。　〃I　really　am　getting　too　old　for　this　crap。〃
〃Kids？〃
〃Three　boys；　and　ain't　none　of　them　gonna　be　a　sailor　if　I　have　anything　to　say　about　it。　You？〃
〃Boy　and　a　girl。　They're　back　in　Kansas　with　their　mother。〃　Morris　went　after　his　sandwich。　The　bread　was　a　little　stale　and　the　cold　cuts　weren't　cold；　but　he　needed　to　eat。　This　was　the　first　meal　in　three　days　he　hadn't　eaten　alone。　O'Malley　pushed　the　potato　chips　over。
〃Get　all　your　carbohydrates；　Captain。〃
〃That　bug　juice'll　kill　you。〃　Morris　nodded　at　the　fruit　drink。
〃It's　been　tried　before。　I　flew　two　years　over　'Nam。　Mostly　search…and…rescue　stuff。　Got　shot　down　twice。　Never　got　scratched；　though。　Just　scared　to　death。〃
Was　he　that　old？　Morris　wondered。　He　had　to　have　been　passed　over　for　promotion　a　few　times。　The　captain　made　a　mental　note　to　check　O'Malley's　date　of　rank。
〃How　e　you　were　in　CIC？〃　the　captain　asked。
〃I　wasn't　very　sleepy　and　I　wanted　to　see　how　the　towed　array　was　working。〃
Morris　was　surprised。　Aviators　didn't　generally　show　this　much　interest　in　the　ship's　equipment。
〃The　word　is　you　did　pretty　well　with　Pharris。
〃Not　good　enough。〃
〃That　happens；　too。〃　O'Malley　watched　his　skipper　very　closely。　The　only　man　aboard　with　extended　bat　experience；　O'Malley　recognized　something　in　Morris　that　he　hadn't　seen　since　Vietnam。　The　flyer　shrugged。　It　wasn't　his　problem。　He　fished　in　his　flight　suit　and　came　out　with　a　pack　of　cigarettes。　〃Mind　if　I　smoke？〃
〃I　just　restarted　myself。〃
〃Thank　God！〃　O'Malley　raised　his　voice。　〃With　all　these　virtuous　children　in　the　wardroom；　I　thought　I　was　the　only　dirty　old　man　here！〃　The　two　young　lieutenants　smiled　at　that；　without　taking　their　eyes　from　the　television　screen。
〃How　much　experience　you　have　on　figs？〃
〃Most　of　my　time　is　on　carriers；　skipper。　Last　fourteen　months　I've　been　an　instructor　down　at　Jax。　I've　done　a　lot　of　odd　jobs；　most　of　them　with　the　Seahawk。　I　think　you'll　like　my　bird。　The　dipping　sonar　is　the　best　I've　ever　worked　with。〃
〃What　do　you　think　about　this　contact　report？〃
O'Malley　leaned　back　and　puffed　on　his　cigarette　with　a　faraway　look。　〃It's　interesting。　I　remember　seeing　something　on　TV　about　the　Doria。　She　sank　on　her　starboard　side。　A　lot　of　people　have　dived　to　look　at　the　wreck。　It's　about　two　hundred　feet　of　water；　just　shallow　enough　for　amateurs　to　try。　And　there's　a　million　cables　draped　over　her。〃
〃Cables？〃　Morris　asked。
〃Trawls。　Lot　of　mercial　fishing　goes　on　there。　They　tangle　their　nets　on　the　wreck。　It　looks　like　Gulliver　on　the　beach　at　Lilliput。〃
〃You're　right！　I　remember　that〃；　Morris　said。　〃That　explains　the　noise。　It's　the　tide；　or　currents　whistling　through　all　those　cables。〃
O'Malley　nodded。　〃Yep；　that　could　explain　it。　I　still　want　to　give　it　a　look。〃
〃Why？〃
〃All　the　traffic　ing　out　of　New　York　has　to　pass　right　overtop　the　place　for　one　thing。　Ivan　knows　we　got　a　big　convoy　forming　up　in　New　York…he　has　to　know　unless　the　KGB　has　gone　out　of　business。　That's　one　hell　of　a　good　place　to　park　a　submarine　if　they　want　to　put　a　trailer　on　the　convoy。　Think　about　it。　If　you　get　a　NLAD　contact　there；　you　write　it　off。　The　noise　from　a　reactor　plant　at　low　power　probably　won't　be　louder　than　the　flow　noise　over　the　wreck　if　they　get　in　close　enough。　If　I　was　a　real　nervy　sub…driver；　I'd　think　hard　about　using　a　place　like　that　to　belly…up。〃
〃You　really　do　think　like　them〃；　Morris　observed。　〃Okay；　let's　see　how　we　should　handle　this　。　。　。〃
0230　hours。　Morris　watched　the　takeoff　procedures　from　the　control　tower；　then　walked　forward　to　CIC。　The　frigate　was　at　battle　stations；　doing　eight　knots；　her　Prairie/Masker　systems　operating。　If　there　were　a　Russian　sub　out　there；　fifteen　or　so　miles　away；　there　was　no　way　she'd　suspect　a　frigate　was　nearby。　In　CIC　the　radar　plot　showed　the　helo　moving　into　position。
〃Romeo；　this　is　Hammer。　Radio　check；　over；〃　O'Malley　said。　The　helicopter's　on…board　data　link　also　transmitted　a　test　message　to　the　frigate。　The　petty　officer　on　the　helicopter　munications　panel　checked　it　out；　and　grunted　with　satisfaction。　What　was　that　expression　he'd　heard？　Yeah；　right…they　had　a　〃sweet　lock　on　momma's　gadget。〃　He　grinned。
The　helo　began　its　search　two　miles　from　the　grave　of　Andrea　Doria。　O'Malley　halted　his　aircraft　and　hovered　fifty　feet　above　the　rolling　surface。
〃Down　dome；　Willy。〃
In　the　back；　the　petty　officer　unlocked　the　hoist　controls　and　lowered　the　dipping　sonar　transducer　down　a　hole　in　the　belly　of　the　helicopter。　The　Seahawk　carried　over　a　thousand　feet　of　cable；　enough　to　reach　below　the　deepest　of　thermocline　layers。　It　was　only　two　hundred　feet　to　the　bottom　here；　and　they　had　to　be　careful　not　to　let　the　transducer　e　near　the　bottom　for　risk　of　damage。　The　petty　officer　paid　close　attention　to　the　cable　and　halted　the　winch　when　the　transducer　was　a　hundred　feet　down。　As　with　surface　ships；　the　sonar　readout　was　both　visual　and　aural。　A　TV…type　tube　began　to　show　frequency　lines　while　the　sailor　listened　in　on　his　headphones。
This　was　the　hard　part；　O'Malley　reminded　himself。　Hovering　a　helicopter　in　these　wind　conditions　required　constant　attention…there　was　no　autopilot…and　hunting　for　a　submarine　was　always　an　exercise　in　patience。　It　would　take　several　minutes　for　the　passive　sonar　to　tell　them　anything；　and　they　could　not　use　their　active　sonar　systems。　The　pinging　would　only　serve　to　alert　a　target。
After　five　minutes　they　had　detected　nothing　but　random　noise。　They　recovered　the　sonar　and　moved　east。　Again　there　was　nothing。　Patience；　the　pilot　told　himself　He　hated　being　patient。　Another　move　east　and　another　wait。
〃I　got　something　at　zero…four…eight。　Not　sure　what　it　is；　a　whistle　or　something　in　the　high…frequency　range。〃　They　waited　another　two　minutes　to　make　sure　it　wasn't　a　spurious　signal。
〃Up　dome。〃　O'Malley　brought　the　helicopter　up　and　moved　off　northeast　for　three　thousand　yards。　Three　minutes　later　the　sonar　went　down　again。　Nothing