tc.redstormrising-第65部分

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The　ground　here　was　agreeably　flat；　the　grass　as　high　as　their　boot　tops。　They　moved　rapidly；　keeping　low；　weapons　held　ready　across　their　chests　as　they　angled　slightly　east　to　avoid　the　village　of　Holmur。　The　next　stream　was　shallower　than　the　Sudura；　though　no　less　cold。　They　stopped　on　crossing　it；　now　only　two　hundred　yards　from　the　highway。　Again　Smith　moved　off　first；　this　time　with　his　back　bent　double；　moving　in　rushes　followed　by　pauses　while　he　knelt　to　examine　the　terrain　repeatedly。　The　men　behind　him　matched　his　movements　exactly；　and　the　team　got　together　again　in　tall　grass　fifty　feet　from　the　road。
〃Okay；〃　Smith　said。　〃We　cross　one　at　a　time；　a　minute　apart。　I　go　first。　I'll　stop　fifty　feet　on　the　other　side　by　those　rocks。　When　you　cross；　don't　screw　around…run　and　keep　low；　and　e　to　me。　If　you　see　something　ing；　get　as　far　from　the　road　as　you　can　and　drop。　They　can't　see　you　if　you　lay　still；　people。　Take　things　real　easy。　Okay？〃　Everyone；　Edwards　included；　nodded　agreement。
The　sergeant　was　as　good　as　his　word。　After　a　final　look　to　be　sure　that　nothing　was　moving　in　their　direction；　he　raced　off　across　the　road；　his　personal　gear　flopping　and　slapping　against　his　body　as　he　did　so。　They　waited　a　minute；　then　Garcia　followed。　After　another　minute；　Rodgers　went。　Edwards　counted　to　sixty　and　darted　forward。　The　lieutenant　was　d　appalled…at　how　stressful　this　was。　His　heart　pounded　with　terror　as　he　reached　the　roadway；　and　he　froze　dead　in　the　center。　Automobile　lights　were　approaching　them　from　the　north。　Edwards　just　stood　there；　watching　them　e　closer
〃Move　your　ass；　Lieutenant！''　the　sergeant's　voice　rasped　at　him。
The　lieutenant　shook　his　head　clear　and　ran　to　the　sound　of　the　sergeant's　voice；　one　hand　holding　his　helmet　in　place　on　his　head。
〃Lights　ing　down！''　he　gasped。
〃No　shit。　Be　cool；　sir。　People；　let's　get　spread　out。　Find　some　good　cover　and　freeze。　And　make　Goddamned　sure　those　weapons　are　on　safe！　You　stay　with　me；　sir。〃
The　two　privates　moved　left　and　right　into　tall　weeds；　disappearing　from　view　as　soon　as　they　stopped　moving。　Edwards　lay　next　to　Sergeant　Smith。
〃You　think　they　saw　me？〃
The　darkness　prevented　him　from　seeing　the　angry　expression　acpanying　Smith's　reply：　〃Prob'ly　not。　Don't　freeze　in　the　road　like　that　again；　sir。〃
〃I　won't。　Sorry；　Sarge；　this　isn't　exactly　my　thing。〃
〃Just　listen　and　learn　what　we　tell　ya'；　okay？〃　Smith　whispered。　〃We're　Marines。　We'll　take　good　care　of　you。〃
The　lights　approached　slowly；　proceeding　down　the　steep　grade　to　their　north。　The　driver　didn't　trust　the　loose　gravel　surface。　The　north…south　road　split　here；　forking　left　and　right　to　Route　1。　It　had　to　be　a　military　truck；　they　saw。　The　lights　were　rectangular；　taped　slips　over　headlights　installed　at　the　Soviets'　massive　Kama　River　factory；　built　largely　with　Western　aid。　The　truck　stopped。
Edwards　did　not　allow　himself　to　react；　except　that　his　grip　tightened　on　the　plastic　stock　of　his　rifle。　What　if　someone　had　seen　them　cross　the　road　and　telephoned　the　Russians？　Smith's　hand　reached　out　and　pushed　the　lieutenant's　rifle　down。
〃Let's　be　careful　with　that；　Lieutenant；〃　Smith　whispered。
The　ten　men　in　the　truck　dismounted　and　spread　into　the　grass　off　the　road；　perhaps　fifty　yards　away。　Edwards　couldn't　tell　if　they　carried　weapons　or　not。　Each　man　stopped；　and　almost　in　unison　they　unbuttoned　their　flies　to　urinate。　Edwards　gawked　and　nearly　laughed。　Finished；　they　moved　back　to　the　truck；　which　started　up　and　proceeded　west　on　the　fork　to　the　main　road；　motoring　off　with　the　sound　on　a　poorly　muffled　diesel　engine。　The　Marines　re…formed　as　the　truck's　taillights　dipped　under　the　horizon。
〃Too　bad。〃　Rodgers　smiled　in　the　semidarkness。　〃I　coulda　blow'd　one　guy's　pecker　right　off！〃
〃You　done　good；　people；〃　Smith　said。　〃Ready　to　move　out；　Lieutenant？〃
〃Yeah。〃　Shamed　by　his　performance；　the　lieutenant　let　Smith　lead　them　off。　They　crossed　the　gravel　road　and　a　hundred　yards　later　were　in　yet　another　lava　field；　climbing　over　rocks　into　the　wasteland。　Their　wet　fatigue　pants　clung　to　their　legs；　drying　slowly　in　the　cool　westerly　breeze。

USS　PHARRIS
〃Our　friend　the　November　doesn't　have　an　anechoic　coating；〃　ASW　said　quietly；　pointing　to　the　display。　〃I　think　that's　him；　running　to　catch　up　with　the　convoy。〃
〃We　have　this　trace　plotted　at　about　forty…six　thousand　yards；〃　the　tactical　action　officer　said。
〃Get　the　helo　up；〃　Morris　ordered。
Five　minutes　later；　Pharris's　helicopter　was　running　southwest　at　full　speed；　and　Bluebird…Seven；　another　P…3C　Orion；　was　closing　on　the　datum　point　from　the　east。　Both　aircraft　flew　low；　hoping　to　surprise　the　submarine　that　had　killed　one　of　their　flock　and　gravely　damaged　another。　The　Russian　had　probably　made　a　mistake　by　increasing　his　speed。　Maybe　he　had　orders　to　trail　the　convoy　and　radio　data　for　other　submarines　to　use。　Maybe　he　wanted　to　catch　up　to　make　another　attack。　Whatever　the　reason；　his　reactor　pumps　were　running　and　making　noise　that　his　hull　could　not　contain。　His　periscope　was　up；　and　that　gave　the　aircraft　a　chance　to　spot　him　with　their　look…down　radars。　The　helo　was　closer；　and　its　pilot　was　municating　with　the　tactical　coordinator　of　the　Orion。　This　could　be　a　textbook　attack　if　things　worked　out　right。
〃Okay；　Bluebird；　we　are　now　three　miles　from　datum　center。　Say　your　position。〃

〃We're　two　miles　behind　you；　Papa…One…Six。　Illuminate！〃
The　systems　operator　flipped　the　cover　off　the　radar　switch　and　moved　it　from　Standby　to　Active。　Instantly；　energy　began　to　radiate　from　the　radar　transmitter　slung　under　the　helicopter's　nose。
〃Contact；　we　have　a　radar　contact　bearing　one…six…five；　range　eleven　hundred　yards！〃
〃Stream　the　MAD　gear！〃　The　pilot　advanced　his　throttles　to　race　toward　the　contact。
〃We　got　him；　too；〃…the　Tacco　called　swiftly。　The　petty　officer　beside　him　armed　a　torpedo；　setting　its　initial　search　depth　for　a　hundred　feet。
The　helicopter's　anticollision　lights　came　on；　the　red　lights　flashing　in　the　darkness。　No　sense　in　hiding　their　approach　now。　The　sub　must　have　detected　their　radar　signals　and　would　now　be　attempting　a　crash　dive。　But　that　took　more　time　than　he　had。
〃Madman；　madman；　smoke　away！〃　the　systems　operator　screamed。
The　smoke　was　invisible　in　the　darkness；　but　the　short　green　flame　was　an　unmissable　beacon　in　the　darkness。　The　helo　banked　left；　clearing　the　way　for　the　Orion　now　only　five　hundred　yards　behind　him。
The　P…3C's　powerful　searchlights　came　on；　spotting　the　telltale　wake　left　by　the　now…invisible　periscope。　The　MAD　contact　had　been　right　on；　the　pilot　saw　at　once。　The　Orion's　bomb　doors　swung　open　and　the　torpedo　dropped　toward　the　black　waters　along　with　a　sonobuoy。
〃Positive　sonar　contact；　evaluate　as　submarine！〃　a　sonar…board　operator　said　over　the　inter。　The　tone　lines　displayed　on　his　screen　were　exactly　what　a　November　at　high　speed　looked　like；　and　the　torpedo　chasing　her　was　already　on　continuous　pinging。　〃Torpedo　is　closing　the　target　rapidly　。　。　。　Looks　good；　Tacco；　closing　。　。　。　closing…impact！〃　The　torpedo's　sound　tracing　merged　with　that　of　the　submarine；　and　a　brilliant　splotch　appeared　in　the　waterfall　display。　The　Orion's　operator　switched　the　sonobuoy　from　active　to　passive；　recording　the　recurring　rumbles　of　the　torpedo　warhead　explosion。　The　submarine's　screw　sounds　stopped；　and　again　he　heard　the　sound　of　blowing　air　that　quickly　stopped　as　the　submarine　began　her　last　dive。
〃That's　a　kill；　that's　a　kill！〃　exulted　the　Tacco。
〃Confirm　the　kill；〃　Morris　said　over　the　radio。　〃Nice　job；　Bluebird。　That　was　a　real　quick…draw！〃
〃Roger；　copy；　Pharris。　Thank　you；　sir！　Beautiful　job　with　the　helo　and　the　detection；　guy。　You　just　got　another　assist。　Hell；　we　might　just　orbit　you　for　a　while；　Captain；　looks　like　you　got　all　the　action。　Out。〃
Morris　walked　to　the　corner　and　poured　himself　a　cup　of　coffee。　So；　they　had　just　helped　to　kill　a　pair　of　Soviet　submarines。
The　TAO　was　less　enthusiastic。　〃We　got　a　noisy　old　Foxtrot　and　a　November　who　did　something　dumb。　You　suppose　he　had　orders　to　trail　and　report；　and　that's　why　we　got　him？〃
〃Maybe；〃　Morris　nodded。　〃if　Ivan's　making　his　skippers　do　things　like　that…well；　they　like　central　control；　but　that　can　change　if　they　find　out　ifs　costing　them　boats。　We　learned　that　lesson　ourselves　once。〃

USS　CHICAGO
McCafferty　had　his　own　contact。　They　had　been　tracking　it　for　over　an　hour　now；　the　sonar　operators　struggling　to　discern　random　noise　from　discrete　signal　on　their　visual　displays。　Their　data　was　passed　to　the　firecontrol　tracking　party；　four　men　hovering　over　the　chart　table　in　the　after　er　of　the　attack　center。
Already　the　crew　was　whispering；　McCafferty　knew。　First　the　yard　fire　before　they　were　missioned。　Then　being　pulled　out　of　the　Barents　Sea　at　the　wrong　time。　Then　being　attacked　by　a　friendly　aircraft　。　。　。　was　Chicago　an　unlucky　boat？　they　wondered。　The　chiefs　and　officers　would　work　to　dispel　that　thought；　but　the　chiefs　and　officers　held　it；　too；　since　all　sailors　believed　in　luck；　an　institutional　faith　among　submarines。　If　you're　not　lucky；　we　can't　use　you；　a　famous　submarine　admiral　once　said。　McCafferty　had　heard　that　story　often　enough。　He　had　so　far　been　devoid　of　luck。
The　captain　moved　bac