tc.redstormrising-第131部分

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〃But　a　Tomcat　could　trail　the　Backfires　nearly　to　the　Russian　doorstep；　and　that　could　allow　you　to　predict　exactly　when　they'll　land？〃　Sir　Charles　persisted。
Toland　looked　at　the　map。　The　Backfires　reentered　Russian　fighter　cover　about　thirty　minutes；　flying　time　from　their　home　bases。
〃Plus　or　minus　fifteen　minutes　。　。　。　yes；　Admiral；　I　think　we　can　do　that。　I　wonder　how　long　it　takes　to　refuel　a　Backfire。〃　There　was　a　lot　of　thinking　going　on　behind　those　blue　eyes；　Toland　saw。
〃mander；　my　operations　officer　will　brief　you　on　something　called　Operation　Doolittle。　We　named　it　after　one　of　your　chaps　as　a　clever　bit　of　subterfuge　to　weasel　the　assets　from　your　navy。　For　the　moment；　this　information　is　eyes…only　to　you。　Be　back　here　in　an　hour。　I　want　your　evaluation　of　how　we　can　improve　the　basic　operational　concept。〃
〃Yes；　sir。〃

USS　REUBEN　JAMES
They　were　in　New　York　harbor。　O'Malley　was　in　the　wardroom　finishing　up　the　written　account　of　the　destruction　of　the　Soviet　submarine　when　the　growler　phone　on　the　port　bulkhead　started　making　noise。　He　looked　up　and　discovered　he　was　the　only　officer　in　the　room。　That　meant　he　had　to　answer　it。
〃Wardroom。　Lieutenant　mander　O'Malley。〃
〃Battleaxe　here。　May　I　please　speak　to　your　CO？〃
〃He's　taking　a　nap。　Can　I　help　you；　or　is　it　important？〃
〃If　he's　not　too　busy；　the　captain　wishes　to　invite　him　to　dinner。　Half　an　hour　from　now。　Your　XO　and　helicopter　pilot　also　if　he's　available。〃
The　pilot　laughed。　〃The　XO's　on　the　beach；　but　the　helo　driver's　available　if　the　Queen's　ships　are　still　wet。〃
〃Indeed　we　are；　mander。〃
〃Okay。　I'll　go　wake　him　up。　Be　back　to　you　in　a　few　minutes。〃　O'Malley　hung　up　and　went　out　the　door。　He　bumped　into　Willy。
〃Excuse　me；　sir。　The　torpedo…loading　practice？〃
〃Okay；　I'm　going　to　see　the　skipper　anyway。〃　Willy　had　plained　that　the　last　practice　had　gone　a　little　slow。　He　handed　the　petty　officer　his　report。　〃Take　this　down　to　the　ship's　office　and　tell　'em　to　type　it　up。〃
O'Malley　went　forward　and　found　the　door　to　the　captain's　stateroom　closed；　but　the　do…not…disturb　light　was　switched　off。　He　knocked　and　went　in。　The　noise　surprised　him。
〃Don't　you　see　it！〃　The　words　came　out　as　a　gasp。　Morris　was　lying　on　his　back；　his　hands　balled　into　fists　on　the　blanket。　His　face　was　covered　in　sweat　and　he　breathed　like　a　man　finishing　a　marathon。
〃Jesus。〃　O'Malley　hesitated。　He　didn't　really　know　the　man。
〃Look　out！〃　This　was　louder；　and　the　pilot　wondered　if　anyone　in　the　passageway　outside　might　hear　it　and　wonder　if　the　captain　were…he　had　to　do　something。
〃Wake　up；　Captain！〃　Jerry　grabbed　Morris　by　the　shoulders　and　lifted　him　up　into　a　sitting　position。
〃Don't　you　see　it！〃　Morris　shouted；　still　not　really　awake。
〃Settle　down；　pal。　You're　tied　to　the　pier　in　New　York　harbor。　You're　safe。　The　ship　is　safe。　e　around；　Captain。　It's　okay。〃　Morris　blinked　his　eyes　about　ten　times。　He　saw　O'Malley's　face　about　six　inches　away。
〃What　the　hell　are　you　doing　here？〃
〃Glad　I　came。　You　all　right？〃　The　pilot　lit　a　cigarette　and　handed　it　to　the　captain。
Morris　refused　it　and　stood。　He　walked　to　his　basin　and　got　a　glass　of　water。　〃Just　a　dumb　dream。　What　do　you　want？〃
〃We've　been　invited　out　to　dinner　next　door　in　half　an　hour…I　guess　a　reward　for　giving　them　the　Victor。　Also；　I'd　like　your　deck　crew　to　practice　loading　torps　on　my　bird。　Last　time　was　a　little　slow；　my　petty　says。〃
〃When　do　you　want　'em　to　do　it？〃
〃Soon　as　it　gets　dark；　Captain。　Better　they　should　learn　it　the　hard　way。〃
〃Okay。　Half　an　hour　on　dinner？〃
〃Yes；　sir。　Be　nice　to　have　a　drink。〃
Morris　smiled　without　much　enthusiasm。　〃Guess　it　would。　I'll　wash　up。　Meet　you　in　the　wardroom。　This　thing　formal？〃
〃They　didn't　say　so。　I　wasn't　planning　to　change；　if　that's　all　right　with　you；　skipper。〃　O'Malley　was　wearing　his　flight　suit。　He　got　lonely　without　all　the　pockets。
〃Twenty　minutes。〃
O'Malley　went　to　his　stateroom　and　ran　a　cloth　over　his　flight　boots。　The　flight　suit　was　new；　and　he　figured　that　was　dressy　enough。　Morris　worried　him。　The　man　might　e　apart；　not　something　that　should　happen　to　a　manding　officer。　That　made　it　partly　his　problem。　Besides；　O'Malley　told　himself；　he's　a　pretty　good　man。
He　looked　better　when　they　met　again。　Amazing　what　a　shower　could　do。　His　hair　was　brushed　back　and　his　service　khakis　pressed。　The　two　officers　went　aft　to　the　helicopter　pad；　then　down　the　brow　to　the　dock。
HMS　Battleaxe　gave　the　appearance　of　a　larger　ship　than　the　American　frigate。　In　fact　she　was　about　twelve　feet　shorter；　but　seven　hundred　tons　heavier；　various　differences　in　her　design　reflecting　the　philosophies　of　her　builders。　She　was　undeniably　prettier　than　her　American　counterpart；　her　unexciting　hull　lines　more　than　balanced　by　a　superstructure　that　looked　as　though　it　had　been　sculpted　to　sit　atop　a　ship　instead　of　a　parking　lot。
Morris　was　glad　to　see　that　things　were　informal。　A　youthful　midshipman　met　them　at　the　foot　of　the　brow　and　escorted　them　aboard；　explaining　that　the　captain　was　on　the　radio　at　the　moment。　After　the　customary　salutes　of　flag　and　duty　officer；　the　midshipman　led　them　into　the　ship's　air…conditioned　citadel；　then　forward　to　the　wardroom。
〃Hot　damn；　a　piano！〃　O'Malley　exclaimed。　A　battered　upright　was　secured　to　the　port　bulkhead　with　two…inch　line。　Several　officers　rose　and　introduced　themselves。
〃Drinks；　gentlemen？〃　a　steward　asked。　O'Malley　got　himself　a　can　of　beer　and　moved　toward　the　piano。　A　minute　later　he　was　battering　his　way　through　some　Scott　Joplin。　The　wardroom's　forward　door　opened。
〃Jerr…O！〃　a　man　with　four　stripes　on　his　shoulder　boards　exclaimed。
〃Doug！〃　O'Malley　jumped　up　from　the　stool　and　ran　to　shake　his　hand。　〃How　the　hell　are　you！〃
〃I　knew　it　was　your　voice　on　the　radio。　'Hammer〃　indeed。　The　American　Navy's　run　out　of　petent　pilots　and　scraped　you　up；　eh？〃　Both　men　laughed　out　loud。　O'Malley　waved　his　captain　over。
〃Captain　Ed　Morris；　meet　Captain　Doug　Perrin；　MBE；　RN；　and　a　shitload　of　other　acronyms。　Watch　this　turkey；　skipper；　he　used　to　drive　submarines　before　he　went　straight。〃
〃I　see　you　guys　know　each　other。〃
〃Some　bloody　fool　decided　to　send　him　to　lecture　at　HMS　Dryad；　our　ASW　school；　when　I　was　taking　the　advanced　course。　Set　back　our　relations　by　at　least　a　hundred　years。〃
〃Is　the　Fox　and　Fence　put　back　together　yet？〃　O'Malley　asked。　〃Skipper；　there　was　this　pub　about　half　a　mile　from　the　place；　and　one　night　Doug　and　me…〃
〃I　am　trying　to　forget　that　night；　Jerr…O。　Susan　gave　me　hell　about　it　for　weeks。〃　He　led　them　aft　and　got　himself　a　drink。　〃Marvelous　job　with　that　Victor　last　night！　Captain　Morris；　I　understand　you　did　very　well　with　your　previous　mand。〃
〃Killed　a　Charlie　and　picked　up　two　assists。〃
〃We　stumbled　across　an　Echo　on　our　last　convoy。　Old　boat；　but　she　had　a　good　driver。　Took　us　six　hours。　But　a　pair　of　diesel　submarines；　probably　Tangos；　got　inside　and　killed　five　ships　and　an　escort。　Diomede　may　have　gotten　one　of　them。　We're　not　sure。〃
〃Was　the　Echo　ing　after　you？〃　Morris　asked。
〃Possibly〃；　Perrin　answered。　〃it　does　appear　that　Ivan's　going　after　the　escorts　quite　deliberately。　We　had　two　missiles　shot　at　us　by　the　last　Backfire　raid。　One　ran　into　our　chaff　cloud；　and　fortunately　our　Sea　Wolf　intercepted　the　other。　Unfortunately；　the　one　that　exploded　behind　us　amputated　our　towed　array　and　we're　down　to　just　our　2016　sonar。〃
〃So　you've　been　assigned　to　ride　shotgun　on　us　then？〃
〃It　would　seem　so。〃
The　captains　lapsed　into　shoptalk；　which　was　the　whole　point　of　the　dinner　in　any　case。　O'Malley　found　the　English　helicopter　pilot　while　the　tables　were　set；　and　they　started　the　same　thing　while　the　American　played　the　piano。　Somewhere　in　the　Royal　Navy　was　a　directive：　when　dealing　with　American　naval　officers；　get　them　over　early；　get　a　drink　in　them　first；　then　talk　business。
Dinner　was　excellent；　though　the　Americans；　judgment　was　somewhat　affected　by　the　liquid　refreshments。　O'Malley　listened　closely　as　his　captain　described　the　loss　of　Pharris；　the　tactics　employed　by　the　Russians；　and　how　he　had　failed　to　counter　them　properly。　It　was　like　listening　to　a　man　relate　the　death　of　his　child。
〃Under　the　circumstances；　hard　to　see　what　you　could　have　done　differently；〃　Doug