tc.redstormrising-第61章

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arines　could　not　reach。　They　would　score　kills；　but　would　they　score　enough？　How　much　larger　would　the　threat　be　this　week？　Morris　could　see　from　their　return　route　to　the　States　that　they　were　adding　nearly　five　hundred　miles　to　the　passage　by　looping　far　to　the　south…partially　because　of　the　Backfires；　but　more　now　to　dilute　the　submarine　threat。　Two　threats　to　worry　about。　His　ship　was　equipped　to　deal　with　only　one。
They'd　lost　a　third　of　the　convoy；　mainly　to　aircraft。　Could　they　sustain　that？　He　wondered　how　the　merchant　crews　were　holding　up。
They　had　closed　in　on　the　convoy；　and　he　could　see　the　northernmost　line　of　merchies。　On　the　horizon　a　big　container　ship　was　blinking　a　light　at　them。　Morris　raised　his　glasses　to　read　the　signal。
THANKS　FOR　NOTHING　NAVY。　One　question　answered。

USS　CHICAGO
〃So；　there　they　are；〃　McCafferty　said。
The　trace　showed　almost　white　on　the　screen；　a　thick　spoke　of　broadband　noise　bearing　three…two…nine。　It　could　only　be　the　Soviet　task　force　heading　for　Bodo。
〃How　far　out？〃　McCafferty　asked。
〃At　least　two　CZs；　skipper；　maybe　three。　The　signal　just　increased　in　intensity　four　minutes　ago。〃
〃Can　you　get　a　blade　count　on　anything？〃
〃No；　sir。〃　The　sonarman　shook　his　head。　〃Just　a　lot　of　undifferentiated　noise　for　the　moment。　We've　tried　to　isolate　a　few　discrete　frequencies；　but　even　that's　all　screwed　up。　Maybe　later；　but　all　we　got　now　is　a　thundering　herd。〃
McCafferty　nodded。　The　third　convergence　zone　was　a　good　hundred　miles　off。　At　such　ranges　acoustical　signals　lost　definition；　to　the　point　that　their　bearing　to　target　was　only　a　rough　estimate。　The　Russian　formation　could　be　several　degrees　left　or　right　of　where　they　thought；　and　at　this　range　that　was　a　difference　measured　in　miles。　He　went　aft　to　Control。
〃Take　her　west　five　miles　at　twenty　knots；〃　McCafferty　ordered。　It　was　a　gamble；　but　a　small　one。　On　reaching　station；　they'd　found　unusually　good　water　conditions；　and　the　small　move　risked　losing　the　contact　temporarily。　On　the　other　hand；　getting　precise　range　information　would　give　him　a　much　better　tactical　picture　and　enable　them　to　make　a　solid　contact　report…and　make　it　by　line…of…sight　UHF　radio　before　the　Soviet　formation　got　close　enough　that　they　could　intercept　the　submarine's　transmission。　As　the　boat　raced　west；　McCafferty　watched　the　bathythermograph　trace。　As　long　as　the　temperature　didn't　change；　he'd　keep　that　good　sound　channel。　It　didn't。　The　submarine　slowed　rapidly　and　McCafferty　went　back　to　sonar。
〃Okay；　where　are　they　now？〃
〃Got　'em！　Right　there；　bearing　three…three…two。〃
〃XO；　plot　it　and　get　a　contact　report　made　up。〃
Ten　minutes　later　the　report　was　sent　via　satellite。　The　reply　ordered　Chicago　in：　GO　FOR　THE　HEAVIES。

ICELAND
The　farm　was　three　miles　away；　thankfully　downhill　through　tall；　rough　grass。　On　first　sighting　it　through　binoculars；　Edwards　called　it　the　Gingerbread　House。　A　typical　Icelandic　farmhouse；　it　had　white　stucco　walls　buttressed　by　heavy　wooden　beams；　a　contrasting　red…painted　trim；　and　a　steeply　pitched　roof　right　out　of　the　Brothers　Grimm。　The　outlying　barns　were　large；　but　low…slung　with　sod…covered　roofs。　The　lower　meadows　by　the　stream　were　dotted　with　hundreds　of　large；　odd…looking　sheep　with　massively　thick　coats　of　wool；　asleep　in　the　grass　half　a　mile　beyond　the　house。
〃Dead…end　road；〃　Edwards　said；　folding　up　the　map。　〃And　we　could　use　some　food。　Gentlemen；　it's　worth　the　chance；　but　we　approach　carefully。　We'll　follow　this　dip　to　the　right　and　keep　that　ridgeline　between　us　and　the　farm　till　we're　within　half　a　mile　or　so。〃
〃Okay；　sir；〃　Sergeant　Smith　agreed。　The　four　men　struggled　into　a　sitting　position　to　don　their　gear　yet　again。　They'd　been　moving　almost　continuously　for　two　and　a　half　days；　and　were　now　about　thirty…five　miles　northeast　of　Reykjavik。　A　modest　pace　on　flat　roads；　it　was　a　mankilling　effort　cross　country；　particularly　while　staying　watchful　for　the　helicopters　that　were　now　patrolling　the　countryside。　They　had　consumed　their　last　rations　six　hours　before。　The　cool　temperatures　and　hard　physical　effort　conspired　to　drain　the　energy　from　their　bodies　as　they　picked　their　way　around　and　over　the　two…thousand…foot　hills　that　dotted　the　Icelandic　coast　like　so　many　fence　pickets。
Several　things　kept　them　moving。　One　was　the　fear　that　the　Soviet　division　they　had　watched　airlifted　in　would　expand　its　perimeter　and　snap　them　up。　No　one　relished　the　thought　of　captivity　under　the　Russians。　But　worse　than　this　was　fear　of　failure。　They　had　a　mission；　and　no　taskmaster　is　harsher　than　one's　own　self…expectations。　Then　there　was　pride。　Edwards　had　to　set　an　example　for　his　men；　a　principle　remembered　from　Colorado　Springs。　The　Marines；　of　course；　could　hardly　let　a　〃wing…wiper〃　outperform　them。　Thus；　without　thinking　consciously　about　it；　four　men　contrived　to　walk　themselves　into　the　ground；　all　in　the　name　of　pride。
〃Gonna　rain；〃　Smith　said。
〃Yeah；　the　cover　will　be　nice；〃　Edwards　said；　still　sitting　back。　〃We'll　wait　for　it。　Jesus；　I　never　thought　working　in　daylight　would　be　so　Goddamned　tough。　There's　just　something　weird　about　not　having　the　friggin'　sun　go　down。〃
〃Tell　me　about　it。　And　I　ain't　even　got　a　cigarette；〃　Smith　growled。
〃Rain　again？〃　Private　Garcia　asked。
〃Get　used　to　it；〃　Edwards　said。　〃It　rains　seventeen　days　in　June；　on　average；　and　so　far　this's　been　a　wet　year。　How　d'you　think　the　grass　got　so　tall？〃
〃You　like　this　place？〃　Garcia　asked；　dumbfounded　enough　to　forget　the　〃sir。〃　Iceland　had　little　in　mon　with　Puerto　Rico。
〃My　dad's　a　lobsterman　working　out　of　Eastpoint；　Maine。　When　I　was　a　kid　I　went　out　on　the　boat　every　time　I　could；　and　it　was　always　like　this。〃
〃What　we　gonna　do　when　we　get　down　to　that　house；　sir？〃　Smith　brought　them　back　to　things　that　mattered。
〃Ask　for　food…〃
〃Ask？〃　Garcia　was　surprised。
〃Ask。　And　pay　for　it；　with　cash。　And　smile。　And　say；　'Thank　you；　sir；〃'　Edwards　said。　〃Remember　your　manners；　guys；　unless　you　want　him　to　phone　Ivan　ten　minutes　after　we　leave。〃　He　looked　around　at　his　men。　The　thought　sobered　them　all。
The　rain　started　with　a　few　sprinkles。　Two　minutes　later　it　was　falling　heavily；　cutting　visibility　down　to　a　few　hundred　yards。　Edwards　wearily　got　to　his　feet；　forcing　his　Marines　to　do　likewise；　and　they　all　moved　downhill　as　the　sun　above　the　clouds　dipped　in　the　northwestern　sky　and　slid　down　behind　a　hill。　The　hill…since　they'd　probably　have　to　climb　it　the　next　day；　they　thought　of　it　as　a　mountain…had　a　name；　but　none　of　them　could　pronounce　it。　By　the　time　they　were　a　quarter　mile　from　the　farmhouse；　it　was　as　dark　as　it　would　get；　and　the　rain　had　the　visibility　down　to　about　eighty　yards。
〃Car　ing。〃　Smith　saw　the　glare　of　the　lights　first。　All　four　men　dropped　and　instinctively　aimed　their　rifles　at　the　dots　on　the　horizon。
〃Relax；　guys。　This　road　here　breaks　off　the　main　road；　and　those　lights　could　just　be…shit！〃　Edwards　cursed。　The　lights　hadn't　taken　the　sweeping　turn　on　the　coastal　highway。　They　were　ing　down　the　road　to　the　farm。　Was　it　a　car　or　a　track　with　its　driving　lights　on？　〃Spread　out　and　stay　awake。〃　Smith　stayed　with　Edwards；　and　the　two　privates　moved　downhill　about　fifty　yards。
Edwards　lay　prone；　his　elbows　propped　up　on　the　wet　grass　and　binoculars　to　his　eyes。　He　didn't　think　they　could　be　spotted。　The　Marine　pattern　camouflage　made　them　nearly　invisible　in　daylight　as　long　as　they　didn't　move　rapidly。　In　the　dark　they　were　transparent　shadows。
〃Looks　like　a　pickup；　four…by…four；　something　like　that。　Lights　are　pretty　far　off　the　ground；　bouncing　around　too　much　to　be　a　track；〃　Edwards　thought　aloud。
The　lights　came　directly…but　slowly…to　the　farmhouse　and　stopped。　Its　doors　opened；　men　got　out；　and　one　stepped　in　front　of　the　headlights　before　they　were　extinguished。
〃Damn！〃　Smith　snarled。
〃Yep；　looks　like　four　or　five　Ivans。　Get　Garcia　and　Rodgers　over　here；　Sergeant。〃
〃Right。〃
Edwards　kept　his　binoculars　on　the　house。　There　were　no　electric　lights　lit。　He　guessed　that　this　area　got　its　power　from　Artun；　and　he'd　watched　the　bombs　wipe　that　plant　off　the　map。　There　was　some　internal　illumination；　though；　maybe　from　candles　or　a　hurricane　lamp。　It　really　was　a　lot　like　home；　Edwards　told　himself；　our　electricity　went　off　often　enough；　from　nor'eastern　storms　or　ice　on　the　wires。　The　people　in　that　house　had　to　be　asleep。　Working　farmers；　early　to　bed；　early　to　rise…wears　you　out　and　dulls　the　brain；　Edwards　thought。　Through　the　lenses　he　watched　the　Russians…he　counted　five…circle　the　house。　Like　burglars；　he　thought。　They　looking　for　。　。　。　us？　No。　If　they　were　looking　for　us；　there'd　be　more　than　five　guys　in　a　four…by…four。　That's　interesting。　They　must　be　looting…but　what　if　somebody　。　。　。　Jesus；　we　know　that　somebody　lives　there。　Somebody　lit　that　lamp。　What　are　they　up　to？
〃What　gives；　sir？〃　Smith　asked。
〃Looks　like　we　got　five　Russkies。　They're　playing　peeper；　looking　in　the　windows　and…one　just　kicked　the　door　in！　I　don't　like　the　way　this　is　going；　troops；　I…〃
A　scream　confirmed　his　evaluation。　A　woman's　scream；　it　cut　right　through　the　falling　rain　and　made　them　feel　someone's　terror；　chilling　men　already　cold。
〃People；　let's　move　in　a　little。　We　stay　together　and　we　damned　well　stay　alert。〃
〃Why　we　movin'　in　now；　sir？''　Smith　asked　sharply。
〃'Cuz　I　say　so。〃　Edwards　stowed　his　field　glasses。　〃Follow　me。〃
Another　light　was　lit　in　the　building；　and　it　seemed　to　be　moving　around。　Edwards　walked　quickly；　keeping　low　in　a　way　that　punished　his　back。　In　two　minutes　he　was　a　few　yards　from　the　truck　that　had　driven　in；　no　more　than　twenty　yards　from　the　home's　front　door。
〃Sir；　you're　getting　a　little　careless；〃　Smith　warned。
〃Yeah；　well；　if　I　guess　right；　so　are　they。　I　bet…〃
There　was　a　sound　of　breaking　glass。　A　shot　rang　out　through　the　semidarkness。　It　was　followed　by　a　blood…chilling　shriek…and　a　second　shot；　and　a　third。　Then　there　was　another　scream。
〃What　the　hell's　going　on　in　there？〃　Garcia　asked　in　a　rasp。
A　hoarse　male　voice　shouted　something　in　Russian。　The　front　door　opened　and　four　men　came　out。　They　conferred　for　a　moment；　then　split　into　pairs；　going　left　and　right　to　side　windows；　where　all　four　men　stood　to　look　inside。　Then　there　came　another　scream；　and　it　was　perfectly　clear　what　was　going　on。
〃Those　son　of　a　bitches；〃　Smith　observed。
〃Yeah；〃　Lieutenant　Edwards　agreed。　〃Let's　back　off　and　think　about　this　for　a　minute。〃　The　four　men　retreated　about　fifty　yards　and　bunched　together。
〃I　think　it's　time　we　do　something。　Anybody　disagree？〃　Edwards　asked。　Smith　just　nodded；　interested　in　Edwards's　change　of　demeanor。
〃Okay；　we　take　our　time　and　do　it　right。　Smith；　you　e　with　me　and　we　go　around　the　left。　Garcia　and　Rodgers　go　around　the　right。　Go　wide　and　e　in　slow。　Ten　minutes。　If　you　can　take　'em　alive；　that's　okay。　If　not；　stick　'em。　We　try　not　to　make　noise。　But　if　you　gotta　shoot；　make　Goddamned　sure　the　first　burst　does　it。　Okay？〃　Edwards　looked　around　for　additional　Russians。　None。　The　four　men　slipped　out　of　their　packs；　checked　their　watches；　and　moved　out；　crawling　through　the　wet　grass。
There　was　another　scream；　but　none　after　that。　Edwards　was　glad　there　weren't…he　didn't　need　the　distraction。　The　crawling　was　a　slow；　tiring　effort　that　sapped　the