Ralph Peters (74 page)

"
Range: twenty miles,
"
Krebs told them all.

Abruptly, the M-100 bucked and began to pulse under Taylor's seat. The main gun was firing.

What does my enemy see? Taylor wondered. If the systems were functioning correctly, his opposite number was reading hundreds of blurred, identical targets, a swarm of ghost images in the midst of which the real M-l00s were hiding. Or, depending on the parameters of his system, he might only be receiving static and fuzz.

Taylor slapped the eyeshield down from atop the headset.

"
Laser alert
,
"
he said over the command net. Beside him, Krebs slid down his own shield.

The protective lenses darkened the sky, and the bucking of the M-100 as it maneuvered forward made it even harder to focus. Nonetheless, Taylor believed he could pick out the tiny black spots that marked the enemy.

He took full manual control of the aircraft and pointed it straight at the enemy.

"
Full combat speed,
"
he ordered.
"
Let's get them.
"

"
'Garry Owen,'
"
a voice replied from a sister ship.

"
Thirteen miles,
"
Krebs said.
"
We're not hitting a damned thing.
"

"
Neither are they,
"
Taylor said. Below the insulated cockpit, the main gun continued to pump out precious rounds, its accuracy deteriorating with every shot.

"
I've still got good voice on them,
"
Merry called.
"
They're going crazy. They've lost us. They're firing everything they've got.
"

"
Ten miles.
"

Taylor looked out at the black dots. He counted ten. But he could not see the slightest trace of hostile action. The sky was full of high-velocity projectiles and lasers, but the M-l00's rounds were far quicker than the human eye, while the enemy's current lasers were not tuned to the spectrum of visible light. Around the lethal balls and beams, the heavens pulsed with electronic violence. Yet all that was visible was the gray sky, and a line of swelling black dots on a collision course with his outnumbered element.

"
Seven miles. Jesus Christ.
"

"
Steady,
"
Taylor said, his fear forgotten now.

Dark tubular fuselages, the blur of rotors and propellers.

It was, Taylor thought, like a battle between knights so heavily armored they did not possess the offensive technology to hurt each other. New magic shields deflected the other man's blows.

"
Four miles
"
Krebs said.
"
Jesus, sir, we got to climb. We're on a collision course.
"

No, Taylor thought. If they haven't hit us yet at this angle, they won't. But the first man to flinch, to reveal a vulnerable angle, was going to lose.

The M-100 threw another series of rounds toward the closing enemy.

"
All stations
,"
Taylor said.
"
Steady on course.
"

"
Two miles
...
"

The Toshiba gunships were unmistakable now. Their contours had not changed much over the years. A mongrelized forward aspect, a helicopter with turboprops on the sides. Or a plane with rotors. Take your pick.

"
Hold course
,
"
Taylor shouted.

The M-l00's cannon pummeled the sky. To no effect.

"
One mile and closing
...
"

Where once horsemen rode at each other with sabers drawn, their descendants rode the sky in a long metal line, jousting with lightning.

Hit, goddamn it, hit, Taylor told the main gun.

He could see every detail on the enemy gunships now. The mock Iranian markings, the mottled camouflage. The low-slung laser pod.

"
We're going to collide
."

Taylor froze his hand on the joystick. Straight ahead.

In a buffeting wash of air and noise, the M-100 shot past the enemy's line.

"
All stations,
"
Taylor said.
"
Follow my lead. We've got a tighter turning radius than they do.
"

He felt far more confident now. The M-l00's airframe was of a design over a decade fresher than the Toshiba gunships. The M-100 had all of the maneuvering advantages.

"
Everybody with me?
"
Taylor demanded.

The other four ships reported in quick succession.

"
Complete the turn. We're only vulnerable from the back.
"

He looked at his monitor. The fuzz cloud that marked the enemy had begun to turn too. But they were slower. He could feel it.

"
Flapper,
"
Taylor said.
"
Turn off the
auto-systems
. They're just canceling each other out. Take manual control of the main gun. And use a little Kentucky windage.
"

"
The accuracy's breaking down,
"
Krebs said.
"
We're just about shot out.
"

"
You can do it, Flapper. Come on. We didn't have all this fancy shit when you and I started out.
"

Krebs nodded, doubt on the lower portion of his face left visible by the laser shield.

"
All stations,
"
Taylor said.
"
Open order. Go to
manual
target acquisition and
manual
fire control.
"

The tight steepness of the turn tugged his harness. But they were almost out of it. And the enemy were still in midturn. There wouldn't be much time. But there would be a window of opportunity.

As nearly as he could remember, the Japanese gunships did not have a manual weapons override.

The sin of pride.

"
Fire at will,
"
Taylor said.

He guided the ship around as though he were reining a spirited horse. Soon he could visually track the black specks of the enemy formation describing a long arc across the sky. They looked clean. Very disciplined fliers.

Every one of his crews would be flying for themselves now. The American formation hardly existed as such. Instead, five M-l00s speckled the sky, each seeking the best possible angle of attack.

Taylor applied full throttle, trying to get into his enemy's
flank before the Japanese gunships could bring their weapons to bear.

"
I don't know,
"
Krebs said, hanging on the weapons control stick.

"
Fuck you don't know,
"
Taylor said.
"
I
know. Take those fuckers out.
"

Krebs fired.

Nothing.

"
Just getting a feel for the deflection,
"
he excused himself. He sounded calmer now that he was committed to action.

Taylor flew straight for the center of the enemy formation. He watched the increasingly clear gunships coming into the last segment of their turns.

"
Come on, baby,
"
Krebs said. He fired again.

Instantaneously, a black gunship erupted in flames and left the enemy formation, its component parts hurtling through the sky in multiple directions.

Taylor howled with delight, eternally the wild young captain who had sailed dreamily into Africa.

"
Well, fuck me,
"
Krebs said in wonder. He fired again, pulsing out rounds.

Another Japanese gunship broke apart in the sky.

Remember me,
Taylor told his enemy.
Remember me.

In quick succession, two more Japanese gunships blazed and broke up. The other American ships were hitting.

There was very little time. The enemy systems defined themselves with greater clarity with each passing second. Taylor was afraid they would be able to come around at their own angle and sweep the sky with lasers in a crossfire effect.

Taylor stared hard at the enemy formation, trying to read the pattern.

"
Flapper,
"
he yelled suddenly.
"
Get the number three ship. That's the flight leader.
"

"
Roger.
"
Krebs had put his gruff old soldier voice back on. But, bubbling under the gray tones was the same unmistakable exhilaration that Taylor felt. The indescribable joy of destruction.

The old warrant officer followed the turn of the aircraft with his optics. He let go one round, then another.

The enemy's flight leader disappeared in a hot
white
flash. When the dazzle faded there were only black chunks of waste dropping into the sea.

Another of the enemy's aircraft exploded.

The remaining gunships began to abort their turns. Instead of trying to close with their tormentors, they were trying to escape.

Wrong decision, Taylor thought coldly.
"
All stations
,
right wheel
,
"
he called, slipping unconsciously into an old cavalry command.

Two of the enemy's surviving gunships exploded in tandem, as though they had been taken out by a doublebarreled shotgun.

Only two enemy ships remained. Taylor knew what they were feeling. The terror. The recognition that it was all over battling with the human tendency to hope against hope. And the frantic uncertainty that interfered with those functions it did not completely paralyze. But the knowledge did not move him.

They were on the enemy's rear hemisphere now. The attempt to flee was hopeless, since the American aircraft were faster. But the enemy pilots would not know that. At this point, the only thing they would know with any certainty was that they were still alive.

Taylor felt Krebs tense mercilessly beside him. The warrant sent off another succession of rounds.

A gunship spun around like a weathervane in a storm, breaking up even before the fire from its fuel tanks could engulf it. Then the familiar cloud of flames swelled outward, spitting odd aircraft parts.

A lone enemy survivor strained off to the southeast. Taylor could feel the pilot pushing for each last ounce of thrust, aching to go faster than physical laws allowed.

The lone black ship flared and fell away in a sputtering rain of components.

For a long moment no one spoke. The M-l00s automatically slipped back into formation, conditioned by drill. But no drill had given them the language to express what they felt.

The sky was eerily clean.

"
All stations,
"
Taylor said finally.
"
Return to automatic flight
controls.
Next stop: Objective Blackjack.
"

Baku.

He
took a deep breath.

"
Flapper,
"
he said,
"
I'm going back to have a little talk with our
Russian
friend.
"

"
I
swear
,
"
Kozlov
said. His mouth was bleeding from Taylor's blow.
"
I swear
I
didn't know.
"

Taylor looked at him grimly. He wanted to open a hatch
and
push the Russian
out
into the sky. He did not know
whether
or not there were sharks in the Caspian Sea, but
he
hoped
nature had
not missed the opportunity to put some there.

Taylor felt another rush of fury, and he raised his fist.

"
Don't,
"
Meredith said suddenly.
"
I believe him.
"

Taylor looked at the S-2 in surprise, fist suspended in midair.

"
Look at him,
"
Meredith went on, with as little regard as if Kozlov could not hear a word that passed between them.
"
He's scared shitless. He's been that way since the refueling site. He didn't have a clue.
"
Meredith made a spitting gesture with his lips.
"
The poor bastard's just a staff officer with a toothache, not some kind of suicide volunteer. Ivanov set him up too.
"

Taylor lowered his fist. But he did not unclench it. He glowered.
"
Goddamnit,
"
he said to Kozlov,
"
I just want to know one thing. Give me one straight goddamned answer, if you fucking Russians are biologically capable of it. All that shit about the layout of the headquarters in Baku—were you telling the truth? Was that sketch accurate? Or were you just making it all up?
"

Kozlov opened his mouth to speak. Two of the bad front teeth had disappeared. The mouth wavered and shut, blood streaming out onto the Russian's chin, streaking down into his uniform. He spit into his sleeve, then tried a second time to squeeze out the words.
"
Everything . . . everything is true. You see? I am here with you. I, too, believed.
"

Taylor shook his head, turning away in disgust.

"
I trust him too,
"
Ryder said. It was the first time Ryder had spoken in Taylor's presence since the flight began. Taylor almost snapped at him. But Hank Parker spoke first:

"
He's straight, sir. I'd bet my bars.
"

Taylor suddenly felt like a big cat in a small cage.
"
Goddamnit,
"
he said, turning back to Kozlov,
"
your country gets at least as much out of this operation as mine does.
"

"
I understand,
"
Kozlov said cautiously, sick gums still bleeding.

"
Then
why?
Why did Ivanov do it?
"

"
I don't know.
"

"
Why sell out your only friends? Christ, nobody in the world has any sympathy for you except us. Who else tried to save your asses?
"

Kozlov looked down at the deck in shame.
"
I do not understand.
"
He wiped his chin on his sleeve again.
"
Perhaps there was a mistake. I don't know.
"

Taylor punched his blistered hand against a side panel. It hurt. In anger, he tore off the fresh bandage that had been applied before the mission lifted off.

The pain felt right. Good. None of it made sense anymore.

"
I don't know, either,
"
Taylor said wearily.

"
We need him,
"
Meredith said.
"
We're going to need him on the ground.
"

Taylor nodded.
"
All right.
"
He turned to Kozlov.
"
But one false step, and I'll shoot you myself.
"

Kozlov nodded solemnly. He was very pale and the blood smeared over the bottom of his face was very red. He seemed physically smaller now, as if shame had crumpled him, and Taylor felt almost as though he had struck a child.

"
And no gun,
"
Taylor added.
"
You do the guiding. We'll handle the fireworks.
"

Kozlov nodded again, accepting this further humiliation. Taylor turned to Hank Parker, dismissing the Russian from his immediate concern. He leaned in over the battle control console. Then he straightened abruptly.

"
Viktor,
"
he said, facing Kozlov across the small cell. The Russian was feeling in his mouth with his fingers.
"
I want you to tell me one more thing honestly. Did you . . .did your people know anything about the Scramblers? Did you
choose
not to warn us?
"

Kozlov wiped his bloody fingers on the side of his trousers. He coughed and his throat sounded crowded with waste.
"
I
didn't know. I knew nothing personally
...
"
He hesitated. Then he continued with a new resolution:
"
General Ivanov knew something. Honestly, I do not know how much he knew. He said nothing to me
until...
afterward.
"

"
You people,
"
Taylor said, shaking his head in disgust. The tone of his voice reached an odd pitch between fury and resignation.
"
Does
anybody
in your country remember how to tell the truth?
"

Kozlov shrugged slightly, drawing his shoulders together as if trying to disappear into himself. He could not meet Taylor's eyes.

Unexpectedly, the strategic communications set sparked to life: a totally unwelcome interruption. A tired voice fumbled through the call signs at the distant end. Even Washington was growing weary.

Meredith acknowledged.

"
Is Colonel Taylor at your location?
"
the communications officer asked from the other side of the world.

"
Roger. Standing by.
"

"
Going to visual relay.
"

"
Check.
"

"
Hold for the President of the United States.
"

Oh, shit, Taylor thought, longing for the days when monarchs were weeks or months away from the soldier's camp.

To everyone's surprise, the familiar face of President Waters did not fill the monitor. Instead, the Vice President appeared, looking handsomely tanned and healthy, except for some tiredness around the eyes. When Taylor stepped in front of the monitor, the Vice President winced. The two men had never met.

Vice President Maddox recovered smoothly and leaned forward again, body language suggesting a generous intimacy.

"
Colonel Taylor?
"
he asked.

"
Yes, Mr. Vice President.
"

An odd expression passed across the distant man's face. Then he said:
"
Colonel Taylor, I'm the
President
now. As of about an hour ago, as a matter of fact. President Waters suffered a fatal heart attack in his sleep this morning.
"

"
Yes, sir,
"
Taylor said flatly, calculating as swiftly as he could the implications for his mission. Nothing else mattered now.

"
Colonel Taylor, it sounds as though you're not alone.
"

"
That's correct, sir. Several members of my staff are present.
"

The new President glanced off to the side. It seemed as though he was about to speak to another party off-camera. Then he faced the screen again and said:

"
Could you clear the room or whatever it is you're in? I'd like to talk to you privately.
"

Bad sign. The only question was: how bad? Another time Taylor might have stated that his staff needed to continue at their posts. But he sensed it would be a fatal move at this junction.

"
Merry,
"
he said, turning from the monitor for a moment.

"
Yes, sir,
"
Meredith said. He quickly began shepherding the others into the narrow passageway that led to the cockpit. Hank Parker went first, heading for the cockpit itself, since he was flight-qualified and could reasonably lay a claim to the comfort of Taylor's forward seat.

After a few awkward seconds, the compartment was clear and the internal hatch had been shut.

"
I'm alone now, Mr. President.
"

Maddox nodded, chewing slightly at his lower lip. It was evident that he was trying to get past the shock of Taylor's scars, to size up the total package.

"
Colonel Taylor,
"
he began in a voice that belonged on a veranda in the Deep South,
"
I did not want to embarrass you in front of your subordinates . . . however, it appears to me that the mission upon which you are presently embarked . . . may be ill-advised.
"

Taylor didn't blink. He had been preparing himself for this.

"
Why, Mr. President?
"

Maddox looked surprised. Taylor heard an off-camera voice say:

"
You don't need to explain anything to him, Mr. President. All you have to do is tell him to turn his ass around and he'll by God do it.
"

"
Colonel Taylor,
"
Maddox picked up,
"
I'm afraid there may be insufficient time to explain all of our . . . considerations. I am directing you to terminate your mission immediately.
"

"
Mr. President,
"
Taylor said desperately, struggling not to sound as desperate as he felt,
"
we're almost at the objective area. In one hour—
"

"
Colonel, I don't intend to argue with you. The best minds in Washington have advised me to put a halt to whatever it is you're up to over there. So just turn yourself around and head on back to wherever it is you started from. You've done a fine job up until now, and, I can assure you, your country's grateful to you.
"

"
No,
"
Taylor said.

Maddox looked at him in disbelief.
"
What did you say?
"

"
No, Mr. President. I will not abort this mission. I believe you are receiving bad advice from men who do not understand the situation here in-theater. I have never before disobeyed an order, least of all from my president. But I believe my duty is clear. I intend to execute this mission, as directed by President Waters.
"

"
By
God
, Colonel, you're going to do what—
"

Taylor switched off the strategic link. Then he unlatched the encryption insert, withdrew it, swung it with all his strength against the deck, and inserted it again, doing up the latch as if nothing had happened. Farewell to Washington.

He went forward and opened the internal hatch that led to the cockpit passageway.

In the faint light, the crammed officers looked ridiculous, huddled against each other like college students playing some prank. Taylor could smell Kozlov's decayed, bloody breath bathing them all.

"
Gentlemen,
"
Taylor said,
"
the President of the United States died this morning, of natural causes. The Vice Pres
ident has been sworn in and has assumed the presidency. There have been no difficulties with the transition process. Now,
"
he bent to help Ryder up out of the tangle of limbs and torsos,
"
we've got a mission to run.
"