tc.redstormrising-第112部分

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〃Fire　one；　fire　three。〃　The　executive　officer　struggled　with　his　emotions　and　won。　Where　had　that　Geisha　e　from？　〃Reload　with　48s！〃
〃Last　bird　away！〃　the　missile　technician　announced。　〃Securing　from　launch。〃
〃Left　full　rudder！''

Ametist　never　saw　the　missiles　launching　behind　her。　The　men　were　too　busy　racing　to　stations；　while　her　captain　rang　up　full　power　and　the　ship's　weapons　officer　ran　up　in　his　shorts　to　work　the　rocket　launchers。　They　didn't　need　sonar　for　this；　they　could　see　all　too　well　where　the　submarine　was…firing　missiles　at　the　Motherland！
〃Fire　when　ready！〃　the　captain　yelled。
The　lieutenant's　thumb　came　down　on　the　firing　key。　Twelve　antisubmarine　rockets　arched　through　the　air。
〃Ametist；〃　the　radio　squawked。　〃Repeat　your　message…what　missiles？　What　kind　of　missiles！〃
Providence　discharged　her　last　missile　just　as　the　frigate　fired　at　her。　The　captain　ordered　flank　speed　and　a　radical　turn　even　as　the　rockets　tipped　over　and　began　to　fall　toward　his　submarine。　They　fell　in　a　wide　circular　pattern　designed　to　cover　the　maximum　possible　area；　two　exploding　within　one　hundred　yards；　close　enough　to　startle　but　not　to　damage。　The　last　one　hit　the　water　directly　over　the　submarine's　sail。　A　second　later；　the　forty…six…pound　warhead　exploded。
Ametist's　captain　ignored　the　radio　while　he　tried　to　decide　if　his　first　salvo　had　hit　the　target　or　not。　The　last　rocket　had　exploded　faster　than　the　others。　He　was　about　to　give　the　order　to　fire　again　when　the　sonar　officer　reported　two　objects　approaching　from　aft；　and　he　shouted　rudder　orders。　The　ship　was　already　at　full　speed　as　the　radio　speaker　continued　to　scream　at　him。

〃Both　fish　have　acquired　the　target！〃
〃Up　scope！〃　McCafferty　let　it　go　all　the　way　up　before　pulling　the　handles　down。　At　full　magnification　the　Grisha　nearly　filled　the　lens；　and　then　both　fish　hit　her　port　side　and　the　thousand…ton　patrol　frigate　disintegrated　before　his　eyes。　He　turned　pletely　around；　sweeping　the　horizon　to　check　for　additional　enemy　ships。　〃Okay；　it's　clear。〃
〃That　won't　last　very　long。　He　was　shooting　at　Providence；　sir。〃
〃Sonar；　what　do　you　have　on　zero…nine…zero？〃　McCafferty　asked。
〃Lotsa　noise　from　the　fish；　sir；　but　I　think　we　have　blowing　air　at　zero…nine…eight。〃
〃Get　us　over　there。〃　McCafferty　kept　the　periscope　up　as　the　XO　conned　the　sub　toward　Providence。　The　Grisha　was　well　and　truly　destroyed。　Together　the　torpedoes　carried　nearly　fifteen　hundred　pounds　of　high　explosives。　He　saw　two　life　rafts　that　had　inflated　automatically　on　hitting　the　water；　but　no　men。
〃Boston　is　calling　on　the　gertrude；　skipper。　They　want　to　know　what　the　hell　happened。〃
〃Tell　'em。〃　The　captain　adjusted　the　periscope　slightly。　〃Okay；　there　she　is；　she's　surfacing…holy　shit！〃
The　submarine's　sail　was　wrecked；　the　after　third　of　it　pletely　gone；　and　the　rest　shredded。　One　diving　plane　hung　down　like　the　wing　of　a　crippled　bird；　and　the　Periscopes　and　masts　housed　in　the　structure　were　bent　into　the　shape　of　a　modernistic　sculpture。
〃Try　to　raise　Providence　on　the　gertrude。〃

Sixty　Tomahawk　missiles　were　now　in　the　air。　On　leaving　the　water；　solid…fuel　rockets　had　boosted　them　to　an　altitude　of　one　thousand　feet；　where　their　wings　and　jet…engine　air　inlets　had　deployed。　As　soon　as　their　jet　engines　had　begun　to　function；　the　Tomahawks　began　a　shallow　descent　that　ended　thirty　feet　above　the　ground。　On…board　radar　systems　scanned　ahead　to　keep　the　missiles　close　to　the　ground；　and　to　match　the　terrain　with　map　coordinates　stored　in　their　puter　memories。　Six　separate　Soviet　radars　detected　the　missiles'　boost　phase；　then　lost　them　as　they　went　low。
The　Russian　technicians　whose　job　it　was　to　watch　for　a　possible　nuclear　attack　against　their　homeland　were　every　bit　as　tense　as　their　Western　counterparts；　and　the　weeks　of　sustained　conventional　conflict；　coupled　with　continuous　maxirnum…alert　status；　had　frayed　nerves　to　the　breaking　point。　As　soon　as　the　Tomahawks　had　been　detected　rising　from　the　sea；　a　ballistic…missile　attack　warning　had　flashed　to　Moscow。　Ametist's　visual　missile　warning　arrived　at　naval　headquarters　in　Severomorsk　almost　as　fast；　and　a　THUNDERBOLT　alert　sent　immediately；　the　code…word　prefix　guaranteeing　instant　passage　to　the　Ministry　of　Defense。　Launch　authority　for　the　antiballistic　missiles　deployed　around　Moscow　was　automatically　released　to　the　battery　manders；　and　though　it　was　several　minutes　before　radar　officers　were　able　to　confirm　to　Moscow's　satisfaction　that　the　missiles　had　dropped　off　their　scopes　and　were　not　on　ballistic　trajectories；　defense　units　stayed　on　alert；　and　all　over　northern　Russia　air…defense　interceptors　scrambled。
The　missiles　could　not　have　cared　about　the　furor　they　had　caused。　At　this　point；　the　Russian　coast　was　posed　of　rocky　bluffs　and　cliffs　that　gave　way　to　tundra；　the　flat　marsh　of　northern　climes。　It　was　ideal　terrain　for　the　cruise　missiles；　which　settled　down　to　a　flight　path　scant　feet　over　the　grassy　swamps　at　a　speed　of　five　hundred　knots。　Each　flew　over　Lake　Babozero；　their　first　navigational　reference　point；　and　there　their　flight　paths　diverged。
The　Soviet　fighters　now　lifting　off　the　ground　had　little　idea　what　they　were　after。　Radar　information　gave　the　course　and　speed　of　the　targets；　but　if　they　were　cruise　missiles；　they　could　reach　as　far　as　the　Black　Sea　coast。　They　could　even　be　targeted　on　Moscow　and　be　flying　a　deceptive　course　far　off　the　direct　path　to　the　Soviet　capital。　On　orders　from　their　ground　controllers；　the　interceptors　arrayed　themselves　south　of　the　White　Sea；　and　switched　on　their　look…down　radars　to　see　if　they　could　spot　the　missiles　crossing　the　flat　surface。
But　they　weren't　going　to　Moscow。　Dodging　between　the　occasional　hills；　the　missiles　flew　on　a　bearing　of　two…one…three　until　they　reached　the　scrub　pine　forest。　One　by　one　they　banked　hard　to　the　right　and　changed　course　to　two…nine…zero。　One　missile　went　out　of　control　and　fell　to　the　earth；　another　failed　to　make　the　turn　and　went　south。　The　rest　continued　to　their　targets。

SEA　EAGLE　TWO…SIX
The　last　Backfire　bomber　circled　Umbozero…South；　waiting　to　land。　The　pilot　checked　his　fuel。　About　thirty　minutes　left；　there　was　not　that　much　of　a　hurry。　For　security　reasons　the　three　regiments　were　divided　among　four　airfields　clustered　south　of　the　mining　city　of　Kirovsk。　The　tall　hills　around　the　town　held　powerful　radars　and　mobile　SAM　batteries　to　stave　off　a　NATO　air　attack。　Most　of　the　smelters　were　still　operating；　the　pilot　saw；　the　smoke　rising　from　the　many　tall　chimneys。
〃Sea　Eagle　Two…Six；　you　are　cleared　to　land；〃　the　tower　said　finally。
〃Who　will　it　be　tonight；　Volodya？〃
〃Twenty　degrees　of　flaps。　Air　speed　two　hundred。　Landing　gear　is　down　and　locked。　Irina　Petrovna；　I　think。　The　tall；　skinny　one　at　the　telephone　exchange。〃
〃What's　that？〃　the　pilot　asked。　A　small　white　object　suddenly　appeared　over　the　runway　in　front　of　him。
The　first　of　twelve　Tomahawk　missiles　assigned　to　Umbozero…South　cut　across　the　runway　at　a　shallow　angle；　then　the　blunt　nose　cover　sprang　off　the　airframe；　and　several　hundred　small　bomblets　began　to　sprinkle　over　the　area。　Seventeen　Backfires　were　already　on　the　ground。　Ten　were　being　refueled　from　trucks　in　the　open；　the　others　were　armed　and　ready　for　another　mission；　dispersed　in　concrete　revetments。　Each　bomblet　was　the　equivalent　of　a　mortar　shell。　The　Tomahawk　dropped　its　plete　load；　then　climbed　straight　up；　stalled；　and　crashed　back　to　earth；　adding　its　own　fuel　load　to　the　destruction。　A　ready…force　Backfire　went　first。　Two　bomblets　fell　on　its　wing　and　the　bomber　fireballed　into　the　sky。
The　pilot　of　Two…Six　advanced　his　throttles　and　climbed　out　of　the　landing　pattern；　watching　in　horror　as　ten　bombers　exploded　before　his　eyes　and　telltale　puffs　of　smoke　told　him　of　less　serious　damage　to　many　others。　In　two　minutes；　it　was　over。　Crash　trucks　raced　like　toys　along　the　concrete　as　men　played　fire　hoses　on　the　burning　trucks　and　aircraft。　The　pilot　headed　north　for　his　alternate　field　and　saw　smoke　rising　there　also。
〃Fifteen　minutes'　fuel。　You'd　better　find　us　a　place　fast；〃　Volodya　warned。　They　turned　left　for　Kirovsk…South　and　the　same　story　was　repeated。　The　attack　had　been　timed　for　the　missiles　to　hit　all　four　targets　simultaneously。
〃Afrikanda；　this　is　Sea　Eagle　Two…Six。　We　are　low　on　fuel　and　need　to　land　immediately。　Can　you　take　us？〃
〃Affirmative；　Two…Six。　Runway　is　clear。　Wind　is　two…six…five　at　twenty。〃
〃Very　well；　we're　ing　in。　Out。〃　The　pilot　turned。　〃What　the　hell　was　that？〃　he　asked　Volodya。

USS　CHICAGO
〃munications　is　gone；　fire…control　is　gone；　fairwater　planes　gone。　We　stopped　the　leaks。　Engines　are　okay；　we　can　steam；〃　the　skipper　of　　Providence　said　over　the　gertrude。
〃Very　well。　Stand　by。〃　Boston　was　also　alongside。　〃Todd；　this　is　Danny。　What　do　you　think？〃
〃She　won't　make　it　out　alone。　I　suggest　we　send　the　rest　back　out。　You　and　me　escort　her。〃
〃Agreed。　You　follow　'em　out。　We'll　try　to　clear　datum　as　quick　as　we　can。〃
〃Good　luck；　Danny。〃　Boston　raised　her　radio　whip　and　made　a　quick　transmission。　A　minute　later　USS　Chicago's　sonar　showed　the　noise　of　the　other　submarines　racing　north。
〃Providence；　remend　you　e　to　course　zero…one…five　and　go　as　fast　as　you　can。　We'll　cover　your　tail。　Boston　will　rendezvous　later　and　we'll　both　escort　you　to　the　pack。〃
〃You　can't　risk　it；　we　can…〃
〃Move　your　fucking　boat！〃　McCafferty　shouted　into　the　microphone。　He　was　exactly　three　months　senior　in　rank　to　his　counterpart　on　Providence。　Presently　the　wounded　submarine　dived　and　headed　northeast　at　fifteen　knots。　Her　damaged　sail　structure　sounded　like　a　junk　wagon　in　the　waterflow；　but　there　was　nothing　they　could　do　about　it。　If　the　submarines　were　to　have　any　chance　of　survival；　they　had　to　put　as　much　distance　between　themselves　and　the　firing　point　as　they　could。

MOSCOW；　R。S。F。S。R。
Mikhail　Sergetov　looked　around　at　a　group　of　men　still　pale　at　what　might　have　been。
〃rade　Defense　Minister；〃　the　General　Secretary　said。　〃Can　you　tell　us　what　has　happened？〃
〃It　would　seem　that　submarines　launched　a　number　of　cruise　missiles　at　some　of　our　northern　airfields。　Their　aim　was　evidently　to　destroy　a　number　of　our　Backfire　bombers。　How　successful　they　were　I