cc.fireice-第84部分

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　Austin　pushed　the　goggles　back　on　his　head　and　saw　one　of　Razov's　guards　standing　like　a　deer　frozen　in　the　headlights。　The　man　clutched　a　bottle　of　vodka　and　his　arm　was　around　the　shoulders　of　a　young　woman　in　a　maid's　uniform；　his　hand　under　the　unbuttoned　front　of　her　dress。　Her　dyed　red　hair　hung　down　over　her　face；　and　her　bright　lipstick　was　smeared。　Austin　realized　he　had　provided　for　every　eventuality　except　the　human　libido。
　
　The　man's　drunken　grin　faded　at　the　sight　of　the　intruders　with　their　painted　faces　and　automatic　weapons。　As　a　professional　gunman　he　knew　exactly　what　was　expected　of　him：　silence。　His　female　panion　had　no　such　restraint。　Her　mouth　opened　wide；　and　she　let　out　an　ear…piercing　scream。　Her　lung　power　was　opera…star　level。　Her　second　shriek　was　even　louder；　the　howl　easily　drowning　Austin's　curses。　She　finally　ran　out　of　breath；　her　eyes　rolled　up　and　she　crumpled　to　the　deck　in　a　faint。
　
　As　the　echoes　faded；　the　ship　lit　up　like　a　pinball　machine。　Doors　flew　open　at　every　level；　and　yells　seemed　to　e　from　all　directions。　There　was　the　sound　of　running　feet　and　rough　voices　shouting　orders；　with　a　few　more　high…pitched　screams　thrown　in　for　variety。　Those　were　only　the　preliminaries。　A　second　later；　all　hell　broke　loose。
　
　…35…
　THE　SIKORSKY　HH　60…H　Seahawk　helicopters　raced　side　by　side　over　the　ocean　like　twin　Valkyries；　skimming　so　low　their　landing　gear　was　splashed　with　spume　from　the　cresting　wave　tops。　The　aircraft　were　painted　in　low…visibility　gray；　their　insignia　and　markings　toned　down　and　almost　invisible。
　
　As　he　stared　out　the　window　of　the　right…hand　helicopter；　the　platoon　mander；　Navy　Lieutenant　Zack　Mason；　reflected　on　the　urgent　phone　call　from　Washington　and　the　orders　to　scramble　a　special　warfare　task　unit　for　a　secret　mission。
　
　With　his　classic　profile　and　soft…spoken　manner；　Mason　could　have　passed　for　an　investment　banker。　Under　the　patrician　looks　was　a　tough　and　petent　warrior　who　had　not　simply　survived　the　rugged　SEAL　training；　but　thrived　on　it。　Still　only　in　his　thirties；　Mason　had　been　involved　in　missions　that　ranged　from　an　aborted　plan　to　shoot　down　Saddam　Hussein's　helicopter　to　security　at　the　Olympics　in　Atlanta。
　
　Officially；　he　was　the　leader　of　a　SEAL　group　on　the　East　Coast。　Unofficially；　he　was　liaison　to　the　Joint　Special　Operations　mand；　an　amalgam　of　SEALs；　Delta　Force　and　the　160th　Special　Operations　Aviation　Regiment　known　as　SOAR。　The　shadow　force　maintained　its　own　helicopter　support。　The　assault　teams　specialized　in　attacking　at…sea　targets　such　as　shipping　or　oil　rigs。　The　joint　mand　was　authorized　to　conduct　preemptive　strikes　against　terrorists　and　terrorism。
　
　The　orders　for　the　mission　had　bypassed　the　normal　links　in　the　chain　of　mand。　This　job　had　been　directly　authorized　by　the　secretary　of　the　navy；　who　had　handed　the　problem　off　to　the　admiral　in　mand　of　the　Naval　Special　Warfare　mand　in　Coronado；　California。　The　admiral　had　been　told　to　avoid　the　usual　red　tape；　and　have　the　operations　decisions　made　at　the　lowest　possible　level。　Mason　would　report　directly　to　Coronado　from　the　field。
　
　After　Sandecker　talked　to　him；　Sid　Sparkman　had　gone　to　the　president　and　told　him　the　truth　about　his　connection　to　Ataman。　He'd　admitted　to　being　seduced　by　the　chance　to　make　billions　of　dollars；　but　he'd　said　he　had　no　inkling　of　Razov's　plans　against　the　United　States。　He'd　handed　in　his　written　resignation；　to　be　announced　at　the　pleasure　of　the　president。　And　he　had　offered　himself　up　as　a　sacrificial　lamb。　If　the　operation　blew　up　in　their　faces；　Sparkman　would　take　responsibility　for　the　rogue　action　to　contain　the　damage。　Ever　the　pragmatist；　the　president　pocketed　the　resignation；　accepted　Sparkman's　offer　and　told　him　to　call　the　naval　secretary。
　
　Based　in　Little　Creek；　Virginia；　Mason's　SEAL　team　was　chosen　because　it　had　been　trained　in　boarding　a　ship　at　sea。　The　mission　goal　was　simple：　Swarm　aboard　the　ship　without　warning　and　deactivate　a　bomb。　Mason　knew　that　reaching　that　goal　would　be　the　hard　part。
　
　〃ing　up　on　target；〃　the　pilot　said；　with　a　lazy　drawl；　interrupting　Mason's　meditations。　〃T　minus　ten　minutes。〃
　
　Despite　his　calm　demeanor；　Mason　couldn't　avoid　the　adrenaline　rush　and　excitement　of　a　SEAL　mission。　He　was　what　was　known　as　an　〃operator；〃　one　who　had　joined　the　navy　for　action。　He　glanced　at　his　Chase…Durer　Swiss　watch；　turned　and　gave　the　men　behind　him　a　ten…fingered　signal　like　a　basketball　player　making　a　two…handed　free　throw。
　
　Dressed　in　black　uniforms；　their　exposed　faces　streaked　with　war　paint；　the　SEALs　were　barely　visible　in　the　cabin's　dim　light。　As　an　elite　force；　SEALs　were　given　leeway　in　dress　and　weapon。　Some　wore　〃drive…on　rags；〃　Rambo…style　around　their　heads；　others　the　more　traditional　floppy　hats　with　the　brim　turned　up　at　front。
　
　There　was　a　rustle　as　the　SEALs　patted　the　pouches　of　their　assault　vests　and　laid　reassuring　hands　on　their　automatic　weapons。　Most　in　the　team　carried　Colt　automatic　rifles；　the　shortened　version　of　the　M…16　that　fired　rounds　with　no　cartridges；　allowing　them　to　carry　more　ammunition。　One　man；　who　was　built　like　a　bull；　carried　the　M…60　E3；　a　light　machine　gun　that　normally　requires　two　men　to　operate。　Another　was　armed　with　a　12…gauge　shotgun　whose　slugs　could　penetrate　metal。　In　addition　to　his　own　rifle；　the　explosives　expert　carried　a　rucksack　that　contained　C…4　plastic　charges　and　fuses。
　
　Mason　manded　the　sixteen…man　platoon　that　would　board　the　starboard　side。　His　executive　officer；　〃2IC；〃　for　second　in　mand；　headed　the　group　that　would　secure　the　port　deck。　No　matter　how　heavily　armed　they　were；　thirty…two　men　posed　a　small　attack　force　for　a　target　as　huge　as　the　Ataman　Explorer。　The　last　thing　the　SEALs　wanted　to　do　was　get　into　a　firefight　with　a　vastly　superior　force。　Their　main　weapon　would　be　surprise；　their　allies　would　be　confusion　and　shock。
　
　〃m　check；〃　Mason　said。　Like　the　men　in　his　platoon；　he　carried　a　Motorola　MX300　radio　with　throat　mike　and　earpiece。　The　men　answered　in　order　of　their　seating。　Mason　counted　the　answers。　Sixteen。　Everyone　was　connected。　His　2IC　called　in　from　the　other　helicopter。　He　and　his　men　were　ready。
　
　Mason　slipped　a　cell　phone　out　of　his　assault　vest　and　punched　out　a　number。　The　phone　used　a　special　encryption　algorithm　that　connected　Mason　directly　to　the　other　assault　teams。
　
　As　Mason's　unit　headed　due　east　of　Boston　at　the　chopper's　maximum　speed　of　one　hundred　forty…five　miles　per　hour；　the　other　squadrons　were　on　similar　missions　to　the　south。　The　Delta　Force　was　in　the　group　off　of　Charleston；　South　Carolina；　and　an　air　force　special　operations　regiment　was　in　the　southernmost　track　east　of　Miami。　On　this　mission；　the　navy　would　be　in　charge。　Which　meant　Mason　was　calling　the　shots。　If　he　got　taken　out　of　action；　the　Delta　leader　would　take　charge；　then　the　SOAR　officer。
　
　〃This　is　Omega　One；〃　he　said。　〃e　in；　Omega　Two。〃
　〃Omega　Two；　and　how　are　you？〃
　
　Mason　smiled　at　the　bad　rhyme。　On　joint　training　exercises；　he　had　e　to　know　and　respect　the　Delta　Force　leader；　a　wisecracking　African…American　named　Joe　Louis；　after　the　great　champion　boxer。
　
　〃We're　right　on　schedule；　Joe。　T　minus　ten。〃
　〃Roger。　Hey；　Zack；　couldn't　the　navy　brass　e　up　with　something　more　imaginative　than　Omega。　Maybe　something　like　the　Three　Bears？〃
　〃Doubt　if　the　admiral　would　like　being　called　Goldilocks。　Besides；　it　was　the　air　force's　turn　to　name　this　mission。〃
　〃Figures。　Fly　boys。　T　minus　eight。〃
　〃Call　when　you　make　visual　contact。〃
　〃When　we　do；　I　will　call　you。　Over　and　out。〃
　
　Mason　punched　another　button　and　got　Will　Carmichael；　leader　of　Omega　Three。　In　contrast　to　Louis；　Carmichael　went　by　the　book。　Even　his　spontaneous　ments　seemed　to　be　programmed。　He　reported　that　his　team　was　right　on　schedule；　then　added；　〃Pieceacake。〃
　
　Mason　knew　from　hard　experience　that　dropping　out　of　the　sky　onto　a　huge　and　possibly　heavily　armed　moving　ship　in　open　ocean　and　disarming　an　unknown　explosive　was　not　exactly　a　piece　of　cake。　They　had　rehearsed　boarding　vessels　at　sea　dozens　of　times；　but　this　was　the　real　McCoy。　The　m