scoonts.theminotaur-第22部分

按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！


sk　encased　her　head；　and　her　body　and　arms　were　sheathed　in　a　green　flight　suit；　gloves；　steel…toed　black　boots。　Over　all　this　she　wore　a　G　suit；　torso　harness　and　survival　vest；　to　which　was　attached　an　inflatable　life　vest。　Toad　wore　exactly　the　same　outfit；　but　the　thought　that　the　beautiful　Rita　Moravia　was　hidden　somewhere　under　the　flight　gear　in　the　pilot's　seat　struck　him　as　amusing。　One　would　never　even　know　she　was　a　woman　except　for　the　sound　of　her　voice　on　the　inter　system；　the　ICS。　〃Takeoff　checklist；〃　she　said　crisply；　her　voice　all　business。
　Toad　read　the　items　one　by　one　and　she　gave　the　response　to　each　after　checking　the　appropriate　switch　or　lever　or　gauge　as　the　plane　rolled　along。　The　taxiway　seemed　like　a　little　highway　going　nowhere　in　particular；　the　concrete　runways　on　the　right　were　hidden　by　the　grassy　swell　of　a　low　hill。　To　the　left　was　a　gravel　road；　and　paralleling　that　the　beach；　where　the　Puget　Sound　waves　lapped　at　the　land。　The　water　in　the　sound　appeared　glassy　today。　Above　them　was　blue　sky；　a　pleasant　change　from　the　clouds　that　had　moved　restlessly　from　west　to　east　since　Toad　and　Rita　arrived　on　the　island。　Even　Mother　Nature　was　cooperating。　The　background　noise　of　the　two　idling　engines；　a　not　unpleasant　drone；　murmured　of　latent　power。　They　promised　flight。　Toad　breathed　deeply　and　exhaled　slowly。　He　had　been　on　the　ground　too　long。
　Clearance　copied　and　read　back；　Toad　asked　the　tower　for　clearance　to　take　off。　It　was　readily　granted。　The　traffic　pattern　was　momentarily　empty。　Rita　Moravia　rolled　the　A…6　onto　the　runway　and　braked　to　a　stop。　With　her　left　hand　she　advanced　the　throttles　to　the　stops　as　Toad　flipped　the　IFF　to　transmit。　The　IFF　encoded　the　plane's　radar　blip　on　all　air　control　radars。
　The　engines　wound　up　slowly　at　first；　then　quickened　to　a　full…throated　roar　that　was　loud　even　in　the　cockpit。　The　nose　of　the　machine　dipped　as　the　thrust　pressed　the　nose…gear　oleo；　almost　as　if　the　plane　were　crouching；　gathering　strength　for　its　leap　into　the　sky。　Moravia　waggled　the　stick　gently；　testing　the　controls　one　more　time；　while　she　waited　for　the　engine　temperatures　to　peak。　Outside　the　plane。　Toad　knew；　the　roar　of　the　two　engines　could　be　heard　for　several　miles。　No　doubt　the　flight　crewmen　on　the　ramps　near　the　hangars　were　pausing；　listening　as　the　roar　reached　them；　their　attention　momentarily　captured　by　the　bird　announcing　its　readiness　for　flight。　Finally　satisfied；　Rita　Moravia　released　the　brakes。
　The　nose　oleo　rebounded　and　the　A…6　began　to　roll；　gathering　speed；　faster　and　faster　and　faster。　The　needle　on　the　airspeed　indicator　came　off　the　peg。。。　80。。。　100。。。　faster　and　faster　as　the　wheels　thumped　and　the　machine　swayed　gently　over　the　uneven　concrete。。。　130。。。　140。。。　the　nose　came　off　the　ground　and　Moravia　stopped　the　stick's　rearward　movement　with　a　gentle　nudge。
　As　the　broad；　swept　wings　bit　into　the　air　the　main　wheels　left　the　ground　and　the　thumps　and　bumps　ceased。
　Moravia　slapped　the　gear　handle　up　and；　passing　170　knots；　raised　the　flaps　and　slats。　Climbing　and　accelerating；　the　Intruder　shot　over　the　little　town　of　Oak　Harbor　bellowing　its　song。　Upward　they　flew；　upward；　into　the　smooth　gentle　sky。
　He　was　flying　again。　It　seemed…somehow　it　was　strange　and　bittersweet　all　at　once。　He　hadn't　thought　about　his　last　flight　in　months；　but　now　as　the　engines　moaned　and　the　plane　swam　through　the　air；　memories　of　his　last　flight　with　Jake　Grafton　in　an　F…14　over　the　Med　flooded　over　Toad　Tarkington。　There　was　fear　in　those　memories。　He　fought　to　push　them　out　of　his　mind　as　he　twiddled　the　knobs　to　optimize　the　radar　presentation　and　checked　the　puter　readouts。　He　glanced　outside。　The　peaks　of　the　Cascade　Mountains　were　sliding　by　beneath　the　plane。　The　steep　crags　were　gray　in　those　places　where　the　clouds　and　snow　didn't　hide　their　naked　slopes。
　Rita　Moravia　had　the　Intruder　level　at　Flight　Level　230…23；000　feet　Toad　concentrated　on　the　equipment　on　the　panel　in　front　of　him。　As　he　tried　desperately　to　remember　all　that　his　instructor　had　told　him；　he　sneaked　a　glance　at　Moravia。　She　sat　in　her　seat　calmly　scanning　the　sky　and　the　instrument　panel。　She　had　engaged　the　autopilot　and　was　watching　it　fly　the　plane。　Now　she　adjusted　the　bug　on　the　HSI；　the　rotating　pass　ring。　She　had　the　Yakima　TACAN　dialed　in。　Now　she　toggled　the　switch　that　moved　her　seat　up　a　millimeter　and　stretched　lazily。　〃Nice　plane；　huh？〃　she　said　when　her　left　hand　once　more　came　to　rest　on　the　throttles；　where　her　ICS　button　was。
　Toad　fumbled　with　his　ICS　button；　which　he　keyed　with　his　left　foot。　〃Yeah。　Fucking　super。〃
　〃How's　the　system？〃
　〃Looks　okay　to　me；　as　if　I　knew。〃
　〃Found　Yakima　yet？〃
　He　ignored　the　question　as　he　studied　the　radar。　The　city　was　still　seventy　miles　away　according　to　the　TACAN。　There　it　was　on　the　radar；　right　under　the　cursor　cross　hairs；　just　a　blob　of　solid　return　amid　a　whole　scope　of　return　from　hills　and　ridges　and　houses　and　barns。
　Yeah；　Toad；　you　better　figure　out　how　to　find　a　city　in　all　this　mess　or　this　little　flight　is　gonna　be　a　disaster。　The　whole　essence　of　the　bombardier's　art　was　interpreting　this　jumble　of　return　on　the　radar　scope。　And　Jake　Grafton　and　those　other　A…6　perverts　demanded　he　pick　it　up　in　just　a　week！　Well；　he'd　show　them！　If　those　attack　weenies　can　figure　out　this　shit　in　eight　months；　a　week　will　be　about　right　for　the　old　Horny　Toad。　After　all；　this　worn…out　flying　dump　truck…
　Moravia　was　asking　Seattle　Center　if　they　could　proceed　direct　to　the　start　of　the　low…level　route。　Toad　cycled　the　steering　to　that　point　and　examined　the　radar　carefully。　Thank　God　the　guys　at　VA…128　had　picked　a　town　on　the　Columbia　River　to　start　the　route。　Even　a　blind　fighter　RIO…Radar　Intercept　Officer…could　find　that　Or　should　be　able　to　find　it　with　the　aid　of　the　radarscope　photographs　that　were　included　in　the　navigation　package　for　this　route。　He　arranged　the　stack　of　photographs　on　his　kneeboard　and　pared　the　first　one　to　the　live　presentation　on　the　radar　scope。　Yep！
　They　had　passed　the　third　checkpoint　on　the　navigation　route　and　were　somewhere　in　central　Oregon　flying　at　360　knots　true；　335　indicated；　500　feet　above　the　ground；　when　Toad's　savage　mood　began　to　improve。　He　was　identifying　the　checkpoints　without　difficulty；　no　doubt　because　they　were　ridiculously　prominent　features　in　the　landscape　ahead；　but　he　was　finding　them。　The　system　seemed　to　be　working　as　advertised　and　the　INS　was　tight；　tight　as　a　virgin's。。。
　For　the　first　time　he　became　aware　of　Moravia's　smooth；　confident　touch　on　the　controls。　She　flew　the　plane　with　a　skill　that　belied　her　inexperience。　Toad　watched　her　handle　the　plane。　The　stick　barely　moved　as　the　plane　rose　and　fell　to　follow　the　ground　contour　and　her　thumb　flicked　the　trim　button　automatically。　She　was　good。　The　airspeed　needle　seemed　glued　to　the　335…knot　tic　on　the　dial　〃You're　a　pretty　good　pilot；〃　he　said　on　the　ICS…
　〃Just　navigate；〃　she　replied；　not　even　glancing　at　him。
　Another　casual　slap　in　the　chops。　Goddamn　women！　He　placed　his　face　against　the　black　hood　that　shielded　the　radar　scope　and　studiously　ignored　her。
　The　plane　approached　the　Columbia　River　again　from　the　south　down　a　long；　jagged　canyon　that　ran　almost　straight　north　out　of　central　Oregon。　Stealing　glances　from　the　radar；　out　the　right　side　of　the　airplane　Toad　saw　a　harsh；　arid　landscape　of　cliffs　and　stone　pillars；　spectacular　monuments　to　the　power　of　wind　and　water　and　the　vastness　of　time。　The　almost　vertical　rock　surfaces　produced　crisp；　sharp　images　on　the　radar　screen。　He　examined　the　infrared　display。　The　infrared　images　were　from　a　sensor　mounted　on　a　turret　on　the　bottom　of　the　aircraft's　nose；　immediately　in　front　of　the　nose…gear　door。　The　sides　of　the　rock　toward　the　sun　looked　almost　white　on　the　IR　scope；　which　was　mounted　above　the　radar　scope　and　was　also　shielded　from　extraneous　light　by　the　black　flexible　hood　projecting　from　the　instrument　panel。
　The　navigation　checkpoint　to　enter　the　navy's　target　range　at　Boardman；　Oregon；　was　a　grain　silo　and　barn　on　top　of　a　cliff　near　the　lower　reaches　of　this　canyon。　The　cursors…cross　hairs　positioned　by　the　p