cc.vixen03-第2章

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　〃Up；　up　and　away；〃　sighed　Hoffman。　〃I　don't　mind　admitting　I　had　a　couple　of　tiny　doubts　there　for　a　while。〃
　〃Join　the　club；〃　said　Burns；　grinning。
　As　soon　as　he　broke　through　the　clouds　and　leveled　the　Stratocruiser　out　at　sixteen　thousand　feet　on　a　westerly　heading　over　the　Rockies；　Vylander　motioned　to　Gold。
　〃Take　her。　I'm　going　to　make　a　check　aft。〃
　Gold　looked　at　him。　The　major　did　not　normally　relinquish　the　con…trols　so　early　in　the　flight。
　〃Got　her；〃　Gold　acknowledged；　placing　his　hands　on　the　yoke。
　Vylander　released　his　seat　belt　and　shoulder　harness　and　stepped　into　the　cargo　section；　making　sure　the　door　to　the　cockpit　was　closed　behind　him。
　He　counted　thirty…six　of　the　gleaming　stainless…steel　canisters；　firmly　strapped　to　wooden　blocks　on　the　deck。　He　began　carefully　checking　the　surface　area　of　each　canister。　He　searched　for　the　usual　stenciled　mili…tary　markings　denoting　weight；　date　of　manufacture；　inspector's　initials；　handling　instructions。　There　were　none。
　After　nearly　fifteen　minutes　he　was　about　to　give　up　and　return　to　the　cockpit　when　he　spotted　a　small　aluminum　plate　that　had　fallen　down　between　the　blocks。　It　had　an　adhesive　backing；　and　Vylander　felt　a　tinge　of　smugness　as　he　matched　it　to　a　sticky　spot　of　stainless　steel　where　it　had　once　been　bonded。　He　held　the　plate　up　to　the　dim　cabin　light　and　squinted　at　its　smooth　side。　The　tiny　engraved　marking　confirmed　his　worst　fear。
　He　stood　for　a　time；　staring　at　the　little　aluminum　plate。　Suddenly　he　was　jolted　out　of　his　reverie　by　a　lurch　of　the　aircraft。　He　rushed　across　the　cargo　cabin　and　threw　open　the　door　to　the　cockpit。
　It　was　filled　with　smoke。
　〃Oxygen　masks！〃　Vylander　shouted。　He　could　barely　make　out　the　outlines　of　Hoffman　and　Burns。　Gold　was　pletely　enveloped　in　the　bluish　haze。　He　groped　his　way　to　the　pilot's　seat　and　fumbled　for　his　oxygen　mask；　wincing　at　the　acrid　smell　of　an　electrical　short　circuit。
　〃Buckley　Tower；　this　is　Vixen　03；〃　Gold　was　yelling　into　a　micro…phone。　〃We　have　smoke　in　the　cockpit。　Request　emergency…landing　instructions。　Over。〃
　〃Taking　over　the　controls；〃　said　Vylander。
　〃She's　yours。〃　Gold's　acceptance　came　without　hesitation。
　〃Burns？〃
　〃Sir？〃
　〃What　in　hell's　gone　wrong？〃
　〃Can't　tell　for　sure　with　all　this　smoke；　Major。〃　Burns's　voice　sounded　hollow　under　the　oxygen　mask。　〃It　looks　like　a　short　in　the　area　of　the　radio　transmitter。〃
　〃Buckley　Tower；　this　is　Vixen　03；〃　Gold　persisted。　〃Please　e　in。〃
　〃It's　no　use；　Lieutenant；〃　Burns　gasped。　〃They　can't　hear　you。　No…body　can　hear　you。　The　circuit　breaker　for　the　radio　equipment　won't　stay　set。〃
　Vylander's　eyes　were　watering　so　badly　he　could　hardly　see。　〃I'm　bringing　her　around　on　a　course　back　to　Buckley；〃　he　announced　calmly。
　But　before　he　could　plete　the　hundred…and…eighty…degree　turn；　the　C…97　started　to　vibrate　abruptly　in　unison　with　a　metallic　ripping　sound。　The　smoke　disappeared　as　if　by　magic　and　a　frigid　blast　of　air　tore　into　the　small　enclosure；　assailing　the　men's　exposed　skin　like　a　thousand　wasps。　The　plane　was　shaking　herself　to　pieces。
　〃Number…three　engine　threw　a　propeller　blade！〃　Burns　cried。
　〃Jesus　Christ；　it　never　rains　。　。　。　Shut　down　three！〃　snapped　Vylander；　〃and　feather　what's　left　of　the　prop。〃
　Gold's　hands　flew　over　the　control　panel；　and　soon　the　vibration　ceased。　His　heart　sinking；　Vylander　gingerly　tested　the　controls。　His　breath　quickened　and　a　growing　dread　mushroomed　inside　him。
　〃The　prop　blade　ripped　through　the　fuselage；〃　Hoffman　reported。　There's　a　six…foot　gash　in　the　cargo…cabin　wall。　Cables　and　hydraulic　lines　are　dangling　all　over。〃
　〃That　explains　where　the　smoke　went；〃　Gold　said　wryly。　〃It　was　sucked　outside　when　we　lost　cabin　pressure。〃
　〃It　also　explains　why　the　ailerons　and　rudder　won't　respond；〃　Vylander　added。　〃We　can　go　up　and　we　can　go　down；　but　we　can't　turn　and　bank。〃
　〃Maybe　we　can　slue　her　around　by　opening　and　closing　the　cowl　flaps　on　engines　one　and　four；〃　Gold　suggested。　〃At　least　enough　to　put　us　in　the　landing　pattern　at　Buckley。〃
　〃We　can't　make　Buckley；〃　Vylander　said。　〃Without　number…three　engine；　we're　losing　altitude　at　the　rate　of　nearly　a　hundred　feet　a　minute。　We're　going　to　have　to　set　her　down　in　the　Rockies。〃
　His　announcement　was　greeted　with　stunned　silence。　He　could　see　the　fear　grow　in　his　crew　members'　eyes；　could　almost　smell　it。
　〃My　God；〃　groaned　Hoffman。　〃It　can't　be　done。　We'll　ram　the　side　of　a　mountain　for　sure。〃
　〃We've　still　got　power　and　some　measure　of　control；〃　Vylander　said。　〃And　we're　out　of　the　overcast；　so　we　can　at　least　see　where　we're　going。〃
　〃Thank　heaven　for　small　favors；〃　grunted　Burns。
　〃What's　our　heading？〃　asked　Vylander。
　〃Two…two…seven　southwest；〃　answered　Hoffman。　〃We've　been　thrown　almost　eighty　degrees　off　our　plotted　course。〃
　Vylander　merely　nodded。　There　was　nothing　more　to　say。　He　turned　all　his　concentration　to　keeping　the　Stratocruiser　on　a　lateral　level。　But　there　was　no　stopping　the　rapid　descent。　Even　with　full…power　settings　on　the　remaining　three　engines；　there　was　no　way　the　heavily　laden　plane　could　maintain　altitude。　He　and　Gold　could　only　sit　by　impotently　as　they　began　a　long　glide　earthward　through　the　valleys　surrounded　by　the　fourteen…thousand…foot　peaks　of　the　Colorado　Rockies。
　Soon　they　could　make　out　the　trees　poking　through　the　snow　coating　the　mountains。　At　11；500　feet　the　jagged　summits　began　rising　above　their　wing　tips。　Gold　flicked　on　the　landing　lights　and　strained　his　eyes　through　the　windshield；　searching　for　an　open　piece　of　ground。　Hoffman　and　Burns　sat　frozen；　tensed　for　the　inevitable　crash。
　The　altimeter　needle　dipped　below　the　ten…thousand…foot　mark。　Ten　thousand　feet。　It　was　a　miracle　they　had　made　it　so　low；　a　miracle　a　wall　of　rock　had　not　risen　suddenly　and　blocked　their　glide　path。　Then；　almost　directly　ahead；　the　trees　parted　and　the　landing　lights　revealed　a　flat；　snow…covered　field。
　〃A　meadow！〃　Gold　shouted。　〃A　gorgeous；　beautiful　alpine　meadow　five　degrees　to　starboard。〃
　〃I　see　it；〃　acknowledged　Vylander。　He　coaxed　the　slight　course　ad…justment　out　of　the　Stratocruiser　by　jockeying　the　engine…cowl　flaps　and　throttle　settings。
　There　was　no　time　for　the　formality　of　a　checklist　run…through。　It　was　to　be　a　do…or…die　approach；　textbook　wheels…up　landing。　The　sea　of　trees　disappeared　beneath　the　nose　of　the　cockpit；　and　Gold　cut　off　the　ignition　and　electrical　circuits　as　Vylander　stalled　the　Stratocruiser　a　scant　ten　feet　above　the　ground。　The　three　remaining　engines　died　and　the　great　dark　shadow　below　quickly　rose　and　converged　upon　the　falling　fuselage。
　The　impact　was　far　less　brutal　than　any　of　them　had　a　right　to　expect。　The　belly　kissed　the　snow　and　bumped　lightly；　once；　twice；　and　then　settled　down　like　a　giant　ski。　How　long　the　harrowing；　uncontrolled　ride　continued　Vylander　could　not　tell。　The　short　seconds　passed　like　min…utes。　And　then　the　fallen　aircraft　slid　clumsily　to　a　stop　and　there　was　a　deep　silence；　deathly　still　and　ominous。
　Burns　was　the　first　to　react。
　〃By　God　。。。　we　did　it！〃　he　murmured　through　trembling　lips。
　Gold　stared　ashen…faced　into　the　windshield。　His　eyes　saw　only　white。　An　impenetrable　blanket　of　snow　had　been　piled　high　against　the　glass。　Slowly　he　turned　to　Vylander　and　opened　his　mouth　to　say　something；　but　the　words　never　came。　They　died　in　his　throat。
　A　rumbling　vibration　suddenly　shook　the　Stratocruiser；　followed　by　a　sharp　crackling　noise　and　the　tortured　screech　of　metal　being　bent　and　twisted。
　The　white　outside　the　windows　dissolved　into　a　dense　wall　of　cold　blackness　and　then　there　was　nothing…nothing　at　all。
　At　his　Naval　Headquarters　office　in　Washington；　Admiral　Bass　va…cantly　studied　a　map　indicating　Vixen　03's　scheduled　flight　path。　It　was　all　there　in　his　tired　eyes；　the　deeply　etched　lines　on　his　pale　sunken　cheeks；　the　weary　slump　of　his　shoulders。　In　the　past　four　months　Bass　had　aged　far　beyond　his　years。　The　desk　phone　rang　and　he　picked　it　up。
　〃Admiral　Bass？〃　came　a　familiar　voice。
　〃Yes；　Mr。　President。〃
　〃Secretary　Wilson　tells　me　you　wish　to　call　off　the　search　for　Vixen　03。〃
　〃That's　true；〃　Bass　said　quietly。　〃I　see　no　sense　in　prolonging　the　agony。　Navy　surface　craft；　Air　Force　search　planes；　and　Army　ground　Units　have　bed　every　inch　of　land　and　sea　for　fifty　miles　along　either　side　of　Vixen　O3's　plotted　course。〃
　〃What's　your　opinion？〃
　〃My　guess　is　her　remains　are　resting　on　the　seabed　of　the　Pacific　Ocean；〃　answered　Bass。
　〃You　feel　she　made　it　past　the　West　Coast？〃
　〃I　do。〃
　〃Let　us　pray　you're　right；　Admiral。　God　help　us　if　she　crashed　on　land。〃
　〃If　she　had；　we'd　have　known　by　now；〃　Bass　said。
　〃Yes〃…the　President　hesitated…〃I　guess　we　would　at　that。〃　An…other　pause。　〃Close　the　file　on　Vixen　03。　Bury　it；　and　bury　it　deep。〃
　〃I'll　see　to　it；　Mr。　President。〃
　Bass　set　the　receiver　in　its　cradle　and　sank　back　in　his　chair；　a　defeated　man　at　the　end　of　a　long　and　otherwise　distinguished　Navy　career。
　He　stared　at　the　map　again。　〃Where？　'　he　said　aloud　to　himself。　〃Where　are　you？　Where　in　hell　did　you　go？〃
　The　answer　never　came。　No　clue　to　the　disappearance　of　the　ill…fated　Stratocruiser　ever　turned　up。　It　was　as　though　Major　Vylander　and　his　crew　had　flown　into　oblivion。
　

　1
　

　Vixen　03
　Colorado
　September　1988
　

　Dirk　Pitt　released　his　hold　on　sleep；　yawned　a　deep；　satisfying　yawn；　and　absorbed　his　surroundings。　It　had　been　dark　when　he　arrived　at　the　mountain　cabin　and　the　flames　in　the　great　moss…rock　fireplace　along　with　the　light　from　the　pungent…smelling　kerosene　lamps　had　not　illumi…nated　the　knotty…pine　interior　to　its　best　advantage。
　His　vision　sharpened　on　an　old　Seth　Thomas　clock　clinging　to　one　wall。　He　had　set　and　wound　the　clock　the　previous　night；　it　had　seemed　the　thing　to　do。　Next　he　focused　on　the　massive　cobwebbed　head　of　an　elk　that　stared　down　at　him　through　dusty　glass　eyes。　Slightly　beyond　the　elk　was　a　picture　window　that　offered　a　breathtaking　vista　of　the　craggy　Sawatch　mountain　range；　deep　in　the　Colorado　Rockies。
　As　the　last　strands　of　sleep　receded；　Pitt　found　himself　faced　with　his　first　decision　of　the　day：　whether　to　allow　his　eyes　to　bask　in　the　majesty　°f　the　scenery　or　to　feast　them　on　the　smoothly　contoured　body　of　Colorado　congresswoman　Loren　Smith；　who　sat　naked　on　a　quilted　rug；　engrossed　in　yoga　exercises。
　Pitt　discerningly　opted　for　Congresswoman　Smith。
　She　was　sitting　cross…legged；　in　the　lotus　position；　leaning　back　and　resting　her　elbows　and　head　on　the　rug。　The　exposed　nest　between　her　thighs　and　the　small　tautened　mounds　on　her　chest；　Pitt　decided；　put　the　granite　summits　of　the　Sawatch　to　shame。
　〃What　do　you　call　that　unladylike　contortion？〃　he　asked。
　〃The　Fish；〃　she　replied；　without　moving。　〃It's　for　firming　up　the　bosom。〃
　〃Speaking　as　a　man；〃　Pitt　said　with　mock　pompousness；　〃I　do　not　approve　of　rock…hard　boobs。〃
　〃Would　you　prefer　them　limp　and　saggy？〃　Her　violet　eyes　angled　in　his　direction。
　〃Well　。　。　。　not　exactly。　But　perhaps　a　little　silicone　here　and　a　little　silicone　there　。　。　。〃
　〃That's　the　trouble　with　the　masculine　mind；〃　she　snapped；　sitting　up　and　brushing　back　her　long　cinnamon　hair。　〃You　think　all　women