tc.redstormrising-第38部分

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ssance　satellite　of　their　own；　sweeping　over　the　central　region　of　the　USSR。　The　colonel　lifted　the　phone　to　Cheyenne　Mountain。

USS　PHARRIS
I　should　be　sleeping；　Morris　told　himself。　I　should　stockpile　sleep；　bank　it　away　against　the　time　when　I　can't　have　any。　But　he　was　too　keyed　up　to　sleep。
USS　PHARRIS　was　steaming　figure　eights　off　the　mouth　of　the　Delaware　River。　Thirty　miles　north；　at　the　piers　of　Philadelphia；　Chester；　and　Camden；　ships　of　the　National　Reserve　Defense　Fleet　that　had　been　held　in　readiness　for　years　were　getting　ready　to　sail。　Cargo　holds　were　loading　with　tanks；　guns；　and　crates　of　explosive　ordnance。　His　air…search　radar　showed　the　tracks　of　numerous　troop　transports　lifting　out　of　Dover　Air　Force　Base。　The　Military　Airlift　mand's　huge　aircraft　could　ferry　the　troops　across　to　Germany　where　they　would　be　mated　with　their　prepositioned　equipment；　but　when　their　unit　loads　of　munitions　ran　out；　the　resupply　would　have　to　be　ferried　across　the　way　it　had　always　been；　in　ugly；　fat；　slow　merchant　ships…targets。　Maybe　the　merchies　weren't　so　slow　anymore；　and　were　larger　than　before；　but　there　were　fewer　of　them。　During　his　naval　career；　the　American　merchant　fleet　had　fallen　sharply；　even　supplemented　by　these　federally　funded　vessels。　Now　a　submarine　could　sink　one　ship　and　get　the　benefit　it　would　have　achieved　in　World　War　Il　by　sinking　four　or　five。
The　merchant　crews　were　another　problem。　Traditionally　held　in　contempt　by　Navy　sailors…a　truism　in　the　U。S。　Navy　was　to　steer　well　clear　of　any　merchantman；　lest　he　decide　to　liven　up　his　day　by　ramming　you　…the　average　age　of　the　crews　running　the　ships　was　about　fifty；　more　than　double　that　in　any　American　naval　vessel。　How　would　those　grandfathers　take　the　stress　of　bat　operations？　Morris　wondered。　They　were　quite　well　paid…some　of　the　senior　seamen　made　as　much　as　he　did…but　would　their　fortable；　union…negotiated　salaries　devalue　in　the　face　of　missiles　and　torpedoes？　He　had　to　erase　the　thought　from　his　mind。　These　old　men　with　kids　in　high　school　and　college　were　his　flock。　He　was　the　shepherd；　and　there　were　wolves　hiding　under　the　gray　surface　of　the　Atlantic。
Not　a　large　flock。　He　had　seen　the　figures　only　a　year　ago：　the　total　number　of　privately　owned　cargo　ships　in　operation　under　the　American　flag　was　170　and　averaged　about　eighteen　thousand　tons　apiece。　Of　those；　a　mere　103　were　routinely　engaged　in　overseas　trade。　The　supplemental　National　Defense　Reserve　Fleet　consisted　of　only　172　cargo　ships。　To　call　the　situation　a　disgrace　was　to　describe　gang　rape　as　a　mild　social　deviation。
They　couldn't　allow　even　one　to　be　lost。
Morris　wandered　over　to　the　bridge　radarscope　and　looked　down　into　the　rubber　eyeshield　to　watch　the　aircraft　lifting　out　of　Dover。　Each　blip　contained　three　to　five　hundred　men。　What　would　happen　when　they　ran　out　of　shells？
〃Another　merchie；　skipper。〃　The　officer　of　the　dock　pointed　to　a　dot　on　the　horizon。　〃She's　a　Dutch　container　boat。　I　expect　she's　inbound　for　military　cargo。〃
Morris　grunted。　〃We　need　all　the　help　we　can　get。〃

SUNNYVALE；　CALIFORNIA
〃It's　definite；　sir；〃　the　colonel　said。　〃That's　a　Soviet　ASAT…bird；　seventy…three　nautical　miles　behind　one　of　ours。〃
The　colonel　had　ordered　his　satellite　to　turn　in　space　and　point　its　cameras　at　its　new　panion。　The　light　wasn't　all　that　good；　but　the　shape　of　the　Soviet　killer　satellite　was　unmistakable：　a　cylinder　nearly　a　hundred　feet　long；　with　a　rocket　motor　at　one　end　and　a　radar　seeker　antenna　at　the　other。
〃What's　your　remendation；　Colonel？〃
〃Sir；　I　am　requesting　unlimited　authority　to　maneuver　my　birds　at　will。　As　soon　as　anything　with　a　red　star　on　it　gets　within　fifty　miles；　I'm　going　to　do　a　series　of　delta…V　maneuvers　to　screw　up　their　intercept　solution。〃
〃That　will　cost　you　a　lot　of　fuel；　son；〃　CINC…NORAD　warned。
〃What　we　have　here；　General；　is　a　binary　solution　set。〃　The　colonel　responded　like　a　true　mathematician。　〃Choice　one；　we　maneuver　the　birds　and　risk　the　fuel　loss。　Choice　two；　we　don't　maneuver　the　birds　and　risk　having　them　taken　out。　Once　they　close　to　fifty　miles；　they　can　achieve　intercept　and　negate　our　bird　in　as　little　as　five　minutes。　Maybe　faster。　Five　minutes　is　only　the　best　we've　observed　them　to　do。　Sir；　you　have　my　remendation。〃　The　colonel　had　a　Ph。D。　in　mathematics　from　the　University　of　Illinois；　but　that　was　not　where　he'd　learned　to　back　generals　into　corners。
〃Okay。　This　one　goes　to　Washington；　but　I'll　forward　your　remendation　with　my　endorsement。〃

USS　NIMITZ
〃Admiral；　we've　just　had　a　disturbing　report　from　the　Barents　Sea。〃　Toland　read　the　dispatch　from　CINCLANTFLT。
〃How　many　more　subs　can　they　throw　at　us　now？〃
〃Perhaps　as　many　as　thirty　additional　boats；　Admiral。〃
〃Thirty？〃　Baker　hadn't　liked　anything　he'd　been　told　for　a　week　now。　He　especially　didn't　like　this。
The　NIMITZ　battle　group；　in　pany　with　Sarotoga　and　the　French　carrier　Foch；　was　escorting　a　marine　amphibious　unit；　called　a　MAU；　to　reinforce　the　ground　defenses　on　Iceland。　A　three…day　run。　If　the　war　started　soon　after　they　made　their　delivery；　their　next　mission　would　be　to　support　the　GIUK　barrier　defense　plan；　the　critically　important　link　that　covered　the　ocean　between　Greenland；　Iceland；　and　the　United　Kingdom。　Carrier　Task　Force　21　was　a　powerful　force。　But　would　it　be　powerful　enough？　Doctrine　required　a　four…carrier　group　to　fight　and　survive　up　here；　but　the　fleet　had　not　yet　been　fully　assembled。　Toland　was　getting　reports　on　frantic　diplomatic　activity　aimed　at　averting　the　war　that　appeared　about　to　start；　much　as　everyone　hoped　it　wouldn't。　How　would　the　Soviets　react　to　four　or　more　carriers　in　the　Norwegian　Sea？　It　seemed　that　no　one　in　Washington　wanted　to　find　out；　but　Toland　was　wondering　if　it　would　matter　at　all。　As　it　was；　Iceland　had　approved　the　reinforcements　they　were　escorting　only　twelve　hours　before；　and　this　NATO　outpost　needed　immediate　reinforcement。

USS　CHICAGO
McCafferty　was　thirty　miles　north　of　the　entrance　to　the　Kola　Fjord。　The　crew　was　relatively　happy　to　be　here　after　a　tense　sixteen…hour　run　from　Cape　Svyatoy。　Though　the　Barents　Sea　was　alive　with　antisubmarine　ships；　immediately　after　making　their　report　they　had　been　withdrawn　from　the　entrance　to　the　White　Sea　for　fear　of　fomenting　a　major　incident。　Here　there　was　a　hundred　thirty　fathoms　of　water　and　room　to　maneuver；　and　they　were　confident　in　their　ability　to　keep　out　of　trouble。　There　was　supposed　to　be　a　pair　of　American　subs　within　fifty　miles　of　Chicago；　plus　a　Brit　and　two　Norwegian　diesel　boats。　His　sonarmen　couldn't　hear　any　of　them；　though　they　could　hear　a　quartet　of　Grisha…class　frigates　pinging　away　at　something　to　the　southeast。　The　allied　submarines　here　were　assigned　to　watch　and　listen。　It　was　a　nearly　ideal　mission　for　them；　since　they　only　had　to　creep　along；　avoiding　contact　with　surface　ships；　which　they　could　detect　from　a　good；　long　distance。
There　was　no　hiding　it　now。　McCafferty　didn't　even　consider　not　telling　his　men　the　significance　of　what　they　had　learned　about　the　Russian　boomers。　Submarines　have　no　long…lived　secrets。　It　looked　like　they　were　about　to　fight　a　war。　The　politicians　in　Washington　and　the　strategists　in　Norfolk　and　elsewhere　might　still　have　their　doubts；　but　there；　at　the　sharp　end　of　the　lance；　the　officers　and　men　aboard　Chicago　discussed　the　way　the　Soviets　were　using　their　ships　and　came　up　with　a　single　answer。　The　submarine's　torpedo　tubes　were　loaded　with　MK…48　torpedoes　and　Harpoon　missiles。　Her　vertical　missile　tubes　forward　of　the　pressure　hull　held　twelve　Tomahawks；　three　nuclear…tipped　land…attack　missiles；　and　nine　conventional　antiship　models。　When　a　shipboard　machine　showed　the　first　suggestion　of　a　fault；　a　technician　immediately　tore　it　down　to　fix　it。　McCafferty　was　pleased　and　not　a　little　surprised　by　his　crew。　So　young　they　were…the　average　age　on　his　submarine　was　twenty…one…to　have　to　adapt　to　this。
He　stood　in　the　sonar　room；　forward　and　to　starboard　of　the　attack　center。　A　few　feet　from　him；　a　massive　puter　system　sifted　through　an　avalanche　of　waterborne　sound；　analyzing　individual　frequency　bands　known　from　experience　to　mark　the　acoustical　signature　of　a　Soviet　vessel。　The　signals　were　displayed　on　a　visual　screen　called　a　waterfall　display；　a　monocolor　curtain　of　yellow　whose　brighter　lines　indicated　the　bearing　to　a　sound　that　might　be　a　source　of　interest。　Four　lines　indicated　the　Grishas；　and　offset　dots　marked　the　pings　from　their　active　sonars。　McCafferty　wondered　what　they　were　after。　His　interest　was　mainly　academic。　They　weren't　pinging　his　ship；　but　there　was　always　something　to　learn　from　how　the　enemy　did　his　job。　A　team　of　officers　in　the　attack　center　was　plotting　the　movement　of　the　Soviet　patrol　ships；　carefully　noting　their　information　patterns　and　hunting　technique　for　later　parison　with　intelligence　estimates。
A　new　series　of　dots　appeared　at　the　bottom　of　the　screen。　A　sonarman　punched　a　button　for　a　more　selective　frequency　setting；　altering　the　display　slightly；　then　plugged　in　a　pair　of　microphones。　The　display　was　on　fast…speed　image　generation；　and　McCafferty　saw　the　dots　grow　to　lines　around　bearing　one…nine…eight；　the　direction　to　the　Kola　channel