tc.redstormrising-第103部分

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thing　this　time。　O'Malley　changed　positions　again。　If　I　ever　write　a　song　about　hunting　submarines；　he　thought；　I'll　call　it　〃Again；　and　Again；　and　AGAIN！〃　This　time　a　signal　came　back…two　signals；　in　fact。
〃That's　interesting〃；　the　ASW　officer　aboard　Reuben　James　observed。　〃How　close　is　this　to　the　wreck？〃
〃Very　close；〃　Morris　answered。　〃Just　about　the　same　bearing；　too。〃
〃Could　be　flow　noise〃；　Willy　told　O'Malley。　〃Very　faint；　just　like　the　last　time。〃
The　pilot　reached　up　to　flip　a　switch　to　feed　the　sonar　signal　into　his　headset。　We're　looking　for　a　very　faint　signal；　O'Malley　reminded　himself。　〃Could　be　steam　noise；　too。　Prepare　to　raise　dome；　I'm　gonna　go　east　to　triangulate。〃
Two　minutes　later；　the　sonar　transducer　went　into　the　water　for　a　sixth　time。　The　contact　was　now　plotted　on　the　helicopter's　on…board　tactical　display　that　sat　on　the　control　panel　between　pilot　and　copilot。
〃We　got　two　signals　here；〃　Ralston　said。　〃About　six　hundred　yards　apart。〃
〃Looks　that　way　to　me。　Let's　go　see　the　near　one。　Willy…''
〃Cable　within　limits；　ready　to　raise；　skipper。〃
〃Up　dome。　Romeo；　Hammer。　You　got　what　we　got？〃
〃Affirmative；　Hammer；〃　Morris　answered。　〃Check　out　the　southern　one。〃
〃Doing　that　right　now。　Stand　by。〃　O'Malley　paid　close　attention　to　his　instruments　as　he　flew　toward　the　nearer　of　the　two　contacts。　Again　he　halted　the　aircraft。　〃Down　dome。〃
〃Contact！〃　the　petty　officer　said　a　minute　later。　He　examined　the　tone　lines　on　his　display　and　mentally　pared　them　with　data　he　had　on　Soviet　submarines。　〃Evaluate　this　contact　as　steam　and　plant　noises　from　a　nuclear　submarine；　bearing　two…six…two。〃
O'Malley　listened　for　thirty　seconds。　His　face　broke　into　a　slight　smile。　〃That's　a　nuc　boat　all　right！　Romeo；　Hammer；　we　have　a　probable　submarine　contact　bearing　two…six…two　our　position。　Moving　to　firm　that　fix　up　right　now。〃
Ten　minutes　later　they　had　the　contact　locked　in。　O'Malley　made　directly　for　it　and　lowered　his　sonar　right　on　top　of　the　contact。
〃It's　a　Victor…class〃；　the　sonarman　aboard　the　frigate　said。　〃See　this　frequency　line？　A　Victor　with　his　reactor　plant　turned　down　to　minimum　power　output。〃
〃Hammer；〃　Morris　called。　〃Romeo。　Any　suggestions？〃
O'Malley　was　flying　away　from　the　contact；　having　left　a　smoke　float　to　mark　it。　The　submarine　probably　hadn't　heard　them　because　of　the　surface　conditions；　or　if　he　had；　he　knew　his　safest　bet　was　to　sit　on　the　bottom。　The　Americans　carried　only　homing　torpedoes；　which　couldn't　detect　a　submarine　on　the　bottom。　Once　launched；　they'd　either　motor　along　in　a　circle　until　running　out　of　fuel　or　drive　straight　into　the　bottom。　He　could　go　active　and　try　to　flush　the　submarine　off　the　bottom；　he　thought；　but　active　sonar　wasn't　all　that　effective　in　shallow　water；　and　what　if　Ivan　didn't　move？　The　Seahawk　was　down　to　one　hour's　fuel。　The　pilot　made　his　decision。
〃Battleaxe；　this　is　Hammer。　Do　you　read；　over？〃
〃Took　your　time　to　call　us；　Hammer〃；　Captain　Perrin　replied　at　once。　The　British　frigate　was　monitoring　the　search　closely。
〃You　have　any　Mark…11s　aboard？〃
〃We　can　load　them　in　ten　minutes。〃
〃We'll　be　waiting。　Romeo；　do　you　approve　a　VECTAC？〃
〃Affirmative〃　Morris　answered。　The　vectored　attack　approach　was　perfect；　and　he　was　too　excited　at　what　they　had　here　to　be　annoyed　at　O'Malley　for　bypassing　him。　〃Weapons　free。〃
O'Malley　circled　his　aircraft　at　one　thousand　feet　while　he　waited。　This　was　really　crazy。　Was　Ivan　just　sitting　there？　Was　he　waiting　for　a　convoy　to　pass　by？　It　was　about　an　even…money　chance　that　he'd　heard　the　helicopter。　If　he'd　heard　the　helo；　did　he　want　the　frigate　to　e　in　so　he　could　attack　her？　His　systems　operator　watched　the　sonar　display　intently　for　any　change　in　the　signal　from　the　contact。　So　far　there'd　been　none。　No　increase　in　engine　power；　no　mechanical　transients。　Nothing　at　all　but　the　hissing　of　a　reactor　plant　at　fractional　power；　a　sound　undetectable　from　more　than　two　miles　off。　No　wonder　several　people　had　looked　and　found　nothing。　He　found　himself　admiring　the　nerve　of　the　Soviet　submarine　mander。
〃Hammer；　this　is　Hatchet。〃
O'Malley　smiled　to　himself。　Unlike　American　procedures；　the　Brits　assigned　helicopter　names　associated　with　that　of　their　mother　ships。　HMS　Brazen's　helo　was　〃Hussy。〃　Battleaxe's　was　〃Hatchet。〃
〃Roger；　Hatchet。　Where　are　you？〃
〃Ten　miles　south　of　you。　We've　two　depth　charges　aboard。〃
O'Malley　switched　his　flying　lights　back　on。　〃Very　well；　stand　by。　Romeo；　the　way　I　want　to　work　this；　you　give　Hatchet　a　radar　steer　to　our　sonobuoy　and　we'll　use　our　sonar　for　the　cross…bearing　to　drop。　Do　you　concur；　over？〃
〃Roger；　concur；〃　Morris　answered。
〃Arm　the　fish；〃　O'Malley　told　his　copilot。
〃Why？〃
〃If　the　charges　miss；　you　can　bet　he'll　e　off　the　bottom　like　a　salmon　at　spawning　time。〃　O'Malley　brought　his　helo　around　and　spotted　the　blinking　anticollision　lights　of　the　British　Lynx　helicopter。　〃Hatchet；　tallyho；　I　have　you　now　at　my　nine　o'clock。　Please　hold　your　current　position　while　we　get　set。　Willy；　any　change　in　the　contact？〃
〃No；　sir。　This　dude's　playing　it　awful　cool；　sir。〃
You　poor　brave　bastard；　O'Malley　thought　to　himself。　The　smoke　float　atop　the　contact　was　about　burned　out。　He　dropped　another。　After　rechecking　his　tactical　display　he　moved　to　a　position　one　thousand　yards　east　of　the　contact；　hovered　fifty　feet　above　the　surface　and　deployed　the　dipping　sonar。
〃There　he　is；〃　the　petty　officer　reported。　〃Bearing　two…six…eight。〃
〃Hatchet；　Hammer。　We're　ready　for　your　VECTAC。　Take　your　steer　from　Romeo。〃
Control　of　the　British　helicopter's　course　came　now　from　Reuben　James's　radar；　which　steered　it　onto　a　precise　northerly　course。　O'Malley　watched　the　Lynx　approach；　checking　to　make　sure　the　wind　wasn't　driving　him　off　his　own　position。
〃You　will　drop　your　charges　one　at　a　time；　on　my　mark。　Stand　by；　Hatchet。〃
〃Standing　by。〃　The　British　pilot　armed　his　depth　charges　and　came　forward　at　ninety　knots。　O'Malley　lined　up　the　blinking　lights　with　the　smoke　float。
〃Charge　one…Mark…mark！　Charge　two…Mark…mark！　Get　clear！〃
The　Lynx　pilot　needed　no　encouragement。　Scarcely　had　the　second　depth　charge　fallen　free　when　the　helo　leaped　upward　and　raced　northeast。　Simultaneously；　O'Malley　yanked　up　on　his　collective　control　to　bring　his　delicate　sonar　transducer　out　of　the　water。
There　was　an　odd　flash　of　light　from　the　bottom；　then　another。　The　surface　of　the　sea　turned　to　foam　that　leaped　into　the　starry　sky。　O'Malley　closed　in　and　switched　on　his　landing　lights。　The　surface　was　churned　with　mud；　and　。　。　。　oil？　Just　like　in　the　movies；　he　thought；　and　dropped　another　sonobuoy　into　the　water。
The　bottom　reverberated　with　the　rumbles　from　the　depth　charges；　but　the　system　fiItered　them　out　and　locked　in　on　the　higher　frequency　sounds。　They　heard　escaping　air　and　rushing　water。　Someone　aboard　the　submarine　might　have　hit　the　ballast　controls　in　a　vain　attempt　to　blow　the　submarine　to　the　surface。　Then　there　was　something　else；　like　water　dropped　on　a　hot　plate。　It　was　a　moment　before　O'Malley　had　it　figured　out。
〃What's　that；　skipper？〃　Willy　asked　over　the　inter。　〃I　never　heard　that　before。〃
〃The　reactor　vessel's　ruptured。　You're　hearing　a　runaway　nuclear　reactor。〃　God；　what　a　mess　that'll　be　this　close　into　shore！　he　thought。　No　more　diving　on　the　Doria　for　a　few　years　。　。　。　O'Malley　switched　to　the　radio　circuit。　〃Hatchet；　this　is　Hammer。　I　copy　collapse　noises。　We　score　that　one　as　a　kill。　Do　you　claim　the　kill；　over？〃
〃Our　fox；　Hammer。　Thanks　for　the　steer　in。〃
O'Malley　laughed。　〃Roger　that；　Hatchet。　If　you　want　the　kill；　you　also　get　to　file　the　environmental…impact　statement。　Out。〃
Aboard　the　Lynx；　pilot　and　copilot　exchanged　a　look。　〃What　the　devil　is　that？〃
The　two　helicopters　returned　in　loose　formation　and　made　a　pass　over　both　the　British　and　American　frigates　to　celebrate　their　kill。　It　was　the　second　for　Battleaxe；　and　Reuben　James　would　now　paint　half　a　submarine　on　the　side　of　her　pilothouse。　The　ships　recovered　their　helicopters　and　turned　west　for　New　York。

MOSCOW；　R。S。F。S。R。
Mikhail　Sergetov　embraced　his　son　in　the　Russian　way；　with　passion　and　kisses　to　wele　him　back　from　the　front。　The　Politburo　member　took　his　son's　arm　and　led　him　to　his　chauffeured　Zil　for　the　drive　into　Moscow。
〃You've　been　hurt；　Vanya。〃
〃I　cut　my　hand　on　some　glass。〃　Ivan　shrugged　it　off。　His　father　offered　him　a　small　glass　of　vodka；　which　he　took。　〃I　haven't　had　a　drink　in　two　weeks。〃
〃Oh？〃
〃The　General　does　not　permit　it　in　his　mand　post；〃　Ivan　explained。
〃Is　he　as　good　an　officer　as　I　thought？〃
〃Perhaps　a　better　one。　I've　seen　him　in　mand　at　the　front。　He　is　a　truly　gifted　leader。〃
〃Then　why　haven't　we　conquered　Germany？〃
Ivan　Mikhailovich　Sergetov　had　grown　up　while　his　father　had　climbed　the　Party　ladder　nearly　to　the　top；　and　he　had　often　seen　him　switch　in　a　moment　from　affable　host　to　abrasive　Party　apparatchik。　This　was　the　first　time　it　had　ever　happened　to　him；　however。
〃NATO　was　far　readier　than　we　had　been　led　to　expect；　father。　They　were　waiting　for　us　to　e；　and　their　first　mission　of　the　war…before　we　had　even　crossed　the　border　in　force…came　as　a　rude　shock。〃　Ivan　explained　the　effects　of　Operation　Dreamland。
〃We　were　not　told　it　was　that　bad。　Are　you　sure？〃
〃I've　seen　some　of　the　bridges。　Those　same　aircraft　raided　a　dummy　mand　post　outside　Stendal。　The　bombs　were　falling　before　we　knew　they　were　there。　If　their　intelligence　had　been　better；　I　might　not　be　here。〃
〃So　it's　their　air　power？〃
〃That's　a　major　part　of　it。　I've　seen　their　ground…attack　fighters　cut　through　a　tank　column　like　a　harvester　through　a　wheatfield。　It's　horrible。〃
〃But　our　missiles？〃
〃Our　missile　troops　practice　once　or　twice　a　year；　firing　at　target　drones　that　plod　along　in　a　straight　line　up　where　everyone　can　see　them。　The　NATO　fighters　fly　between　the　trees。　If　the　antiaircraft　missiles　on　either　side　worked　as　well　as　their　makers　said；　every　airplane　in　the　world　would　have　been　shot　down　twice　over　by　now。　But　the　worst　thing　of　all　are　their　antitank　missiles…you　know；　just　like　ours；　and　these　missiles　work　all　too　well。〃　The　younger　man　gestured　with　his　hands。　〃Three　men　in　a　wheeled　vehicle。　One　driver；　one　loader；　one　gunner。　They　hide　behind　a　tree　at　a　turn　in　the　road　and　wait。