probably too much. They'll be gone by the time Rome tells the ocal constabulary to drive out to the airport and make an arrest, if possible." "Can anybody get close enough to shoot down the chopper with missiles?" "Nope. Not enough time. After we launch, I recommend we take the carrier as far south as we can get her to shorten the flight home for the planes.
Fuel is going to be tight. They'll take our one tanker with them, but everyone is going to be watching their gauges pretty close. At least we have Sigonella for a possible fuel divert if necessary.
'Sigonella was a U.s. Naval Air Station on the eastern end of the island of Sicily.
"That would violate Italian sovereignty," objected an officer from the flag staff who had eased over to listen. He was referring to the fact that bases in foreign nations could not be used for takeoffs or landings of planes on combat missions without the host nation's approval, which they certainly didn't have.
"We're going to violate Italian sovereignty anyway," Jake said wearily.
"And if they're pissed they can squawk about it later. That Qazi guy certainly didn't sweat it. I suspect the Italians will have more serious things to worry about when this comes out in the wash." "How are we going to do this, GAG?" Harvey Schultz asked. "We talk to the Gettysburg and the frigate south of Messina and try 1 to sort out the traffic with their help. Then we arrive over Palermo. Then what?" "Have someone make a low pass. He can call in an air strike if he sees that chopper on the ground." Jake smote the arm of the captain's chair. "Jesus...," It was so weak. It would never work.
"You're going to have to use your head, Harve, and do the best you can with what you've got." "What if they've loaded the weapons on a truck and driven away?" "Then we're screwed, was Jake roared. He swallowed hard and lowered his voice. "It's going to be up to you, Harve. You're going to be the man on the spot. You make the call on the spot and I'll back you up. For whatever that's worth. I'm probably I going to get court-martialed anyway. Parker's dead and I'm glad. I'm glad! He doesn't deserve to be pilloried for this. Laird James is going to wish he were dead by the time the admirals and congressmen get through with him. Now it's up to you. Don't let those assholes get away with those bombs." Harvey Schultz kept his eyes on Jake.
"I understand." "Harve, if those people use those weapons on anybody, the United States is finished as a power in the Mediterranean. This ocean will become a Soviet lake. The nations of Europe will be forced to come to terms with Soviet ambitions or face up to another world war, one they can't win.
This is for all the marbles, Harve." Schultz's head bobbed nervously.
"Now get the hell outta here and get those planes into the air. Every minute that passes makes it less and less likely you'll find 1 those people.
Get going!" As the officers departed Jake said, "OOD, when those guys start engines gimme thirty knots of wind right down the deck for launch." Jake slugged off the rest of the coffee and dropped the cigarette butt into the cup. A young enlisted man approached him. "Sir, I'm Wallace, signalman. The chief said to tell you we've established radio contact with Sixth Fleet on the MARS unit. The admiral wants to talk to the senior officer aboard." MARS stood or Military Auxiliary ('Radio System.
The radio set was in a cubbyhole in the signal shack behind the bridge. The sailors used it to talk to their families back in the States with the assistance of olunteer ham radio operators. Jake followed the signalman cross the bridge and out the door that Gunnery Sergeant Garcia ad worked so hard to get through earlier in the evening. Jake settled into one of the two chairs in front of the radio. The hief perched in the other and pointed out the switch on the panel hat had to be pushed up to receive and down to transmit. "This is non-secure radio, sir.
And people all over the world are probaly listening." He pushed the pedestal microphone over in front fJake, who picked it up.
Jake pushed the switch down. "What's their call sign?" The call ign for this set was written in black Magic Marker on the panel in ront of him.
"W6FT, sir," the chief said.
"W6FT, this is W74ally, over." Jake flipped the switch to receive. "W74ally, W6FT, say your rank and name, tilde tilde tilde tilde tilde tilde tilde "Captain Jake Grafton, over." "This is Vice-Admiral Lewis. What in hell is going on out there, Captain?" "I sent you a flash message via USS Gettysburg, sir. Have you got tyet?" "No, and I want to know what the hell is going on. Why did you people sail?" He sounded furious.
"Admiral, this is a non-secure radio link. I'd rather you waited and read the message. "I want to know now, tilde tilde Jake stared at the radio. What the hell. The world would probaly read all about it in tomorrow's papers anyway, if Qazi's bunch wasn't already issued their own press release. Jake flipped the witch to transmit, held the mike several inches from his lips, and egan to talk. It took him three minutes to describe the situation and his intentions. Finally he said, "Over," and toggled the switch to receive. "Wait." Jake set the microphone down on the desk and looked at the hief, who averted his eyes. Yeah.
Well, to wish I could too, Jake hought.
"Grafton, this is Lewis. I don't want you to do anything. Don't launch. We just received the message from Gettysburg and are talking with Washington on the satellite net. This is something the National Security Council needs to make the decision on." You ass, Jake thought, and bit his lip. "Clean up the ship, tend your wounded, and await further instructions. Over." Jakejabbed the switch to transmit.
"Admiral, you don't seem to understand the situation.
We have a terrorist on his way God knows where with two nuclear weapons stolen from this ship stolen from the United States Navy. And he has devices that he can use to trigger them.
This man is capable, he's committed, and he's absolutely ruthless. We don't have much of a chance to stop him, but we do have a chance and we had better take it. We may not get another. His attack on this ship was an act of war. We have the right and authority under existing Rules of Engagement to use as much force as necessary to thwart him. We have a duty to do so, sir.
Jake set the microphone on the table and leaned over it. How to say it?
"We have a moral obligation to stop this man before he murders innocent people. A lot of innocent people-hundreds of thousands. The world will judge us by our efforts to meet that obligation." The future of the free world is at stake here, Admiral. Can't you see that? "Over to you.
Lewis's voice dripped with fury. He was not used to officers arguing with him. "My orders to you are to wait, Captain. Do nothing! Do not launch aircraft! The president will have to meet with the National Security Council and decide how to handle this incident, which you people let happen.
Outrageous incompetence and stupidity. Never have I seen the like. You have fucked this up from end to end, and there's no chance you'll do any better if you keep trying. Just keep that ship afloat until we get someone out there who is capable of bringing it into port.
Over to you for a hearty "Aye aye, sir."" Jake reached for the transmit-receive switch. His thumb hovered an inch above it but then backed off.
Okay, so Lewis is a paper-pusher who instinctively covers his ass rather than stick his neck out on a hard decision. You knew all along he was a pygmy. okay. What are you going to do?
"I said, "Over to you, Captain," Lewis snarled. So you did, Admiral.
And Colonel Qazi still has two bombs and he's still taking them to mewhere. Jake's eye fell on the on-off switch.
He threw it and the static from the speaker stopped.
Jake stood.
"Chief, this radio is out of order. Don't turn it on gain." "Aye aye, sir." The chief looked sick.
Jake Grafton stalked out.
The lights on the hangar were off when Qazi's helicopter settled onto the tarmac at the Palermo airport. A group of men came out of the darkness under two high-winged transports parked nearby and walked quickly toward the helicopter as the rotors pun down.
"Where are the other helicopters?" a major asked Qazi. "The others were destroyed on the sh
ip.
This is the only one." The major stuck his head into the machine for a look. He rinned at Qazi and motioned his men forward. They began nstrapping the restraints that held the dollies on which the eapons rode. The three men who had gone to the ship with Qazi limbed around them and wandered off toward the transports. oora and Jarvis followed them, arm in arm. Ten men lifted each dolly from the helicopter to the pavement. azi walked behind the weapons as they were pushed the two hundred feet across the tarmac. The rear access doors of both ircraft were open. These were hinged portions of the after fuseage and consisted of two longitudinal doors that folded upward into the fuselage. A ramp led upward into the interior of the plane on the left, which was a Soviet-built 11-76 Candid. In the dim light azi could just make out the jet engine nacelles on the wing. The there plane was smaller, a four-engine turboprop, an An- I 2 Cub.
El Hakim was standing at the rear of the Ilyushin.
Two bodyguards with Uzis stood behind him. "How did it go, Colonel?" he sked as he returned Qazi's salute.
"We managed to get the six weapons to the flight deck, Your xcellency, and put two weapons in each helicopter. But the Americans destroyed two of the helicopters before they could akeoff." "So we have only these two weapons?" "Only these two." "Where is Ali?" "He was on one of the machines that was destroyed." El Hakim stood in silence and watched the first weapon go up the ramp and disappear into the interior of the plane.
"And the ship?" "The weapon we left on deck failed to explode." No doubt El Hakim already knew that. The electromagnetic pulse from a nuclear explosion would announce itself on every radio receiver for hundreds of miles.
The pilots of these transports would have reported such an event instantly to El Hakim.
"Why?" El Hakim was entirely too calm, Qazi thought. He began to feel uneasy.
"I suspect the Americans disarmed the weapon before we were far enough away to trigger it. They have weapons experts aboard. That was always a possibility." The second weapon was going up the ramp. El Hakim said, "We have staked our national survival on your mission, Qazi, and you have succeeded. We didn't gain as much as we hoped for, but we have succeeded. The nation owes you a debt. The Arab people 1 owe you a debt, and it will be paid." Qazi started to reply, but El Hakim gestured impatiently. "No one else could have done it, Colonel. No one." He sighed audibly. "For twenty years we have struggled to obtain a hammer to strike the chains from our people. Twenty years!
Twenty years of frustration and humiliation." His voice cracked. "And now we have it," he whispered, "praise Allah, now we have it." The second weapon was inside the plane. The engines on the other plane were already turning and the rear door was coming down into place. The three gunmen who had survived the ship had boarded that plane along with the helicopter pilots. Qazi glanced back at the helicopter sitting near the hangar. It would be abandoned here. Not a customs or immigration official was in sight; he had paid Pagliacci a hundred thousand American dollars for the privacy.
"Come," El Hakim said. "We have much to do.
History is waiting to be written." In the transport's interior along the bulkheads was a contraption of ropes and pulleys.
Five triggers sat along the walls, and Jarvis was fitting a trigger to one of the weapons. Noora was crouched beside him.
Qazi stopped and stared. Two khaki bundles sat behind the rearmost dolly and there were straps flaked out on the floor. These were parachutes, the type used to drop ilitary equipment to troops in the field.
The men who had oaded the dollies were busy rigging the straps to the rear dolly. he first dolly, parked as far forward as possible, had been hained to the deck. A hard object dug into Qazi's back.
"Don't move, Colonel." An arm reached around him and reoved the Browning Hi-Power from his waistband.
El Hakim paused halfway through the compartment and turned to face him.
"What did you plan to do, Colonel? Kill me?" A smile slowly spread across the face of El Hakim. "Don't look so surprised.
ome, Colonel.
Come up here so we can close the door and epart." He turned and marched forward. The guard prodded azi in the back and he followed.
A seating module occupied the forward third of the cabin. The uard motioned Qazi into a seat against the outer fuselage. He as directed to buckle his seat belt, and he complied. With his Uzi against Qazi's neck, the guard snapped handcuffs on his wrists, then used a second pair to fasten the first pair to the armrest of the seat. The guard seated himself across from Qazi, beside El Hakim, and leveled the Uzi at Qazi.
Those two had their backs to the radio compartment, beside which was the short stair that led up onto the flight deck.
As the engines started El Hakim chuckled. "You have served us well, Qazi, but your task is complete. You have our gratitude. I express it now." His smile faded. "But that is all the thanks a traitor like you will ever receive." He leaned forward and raised his voice, to be heard above the engine noise. "We are going to Israel now, Colonel, to strike with our hammer. Zionism will not survive the blow. And the debt we owe you for your treason will be paid in full." El Hakim showed his teeth.
Qazi leaned his head back into the seat and closed his eyes. He listened to the creaks and thumps of the taxiing plane, just audible over the whine of the turbojet engines. He heard Jarvis and Noora slipping into seats behind him. He heard Noora speaking to Jarvis, fastening his buckle for him, fussing over him. After a few minutes the transport creaked to a stop, then the engines spooled up. The plane rolled and in a few moments left the earth.
When at last Qazi opened his eyes, El Hakim had reclined his seat and was watching him with a satisfied, contented expression.
0 0 0 Jake Grafton strode across the flight deck toward the F-14 Tomcat sitting behind Cat Three. The boarding ladder was still down and he mounted it. "Get out, Harvey. I'm going in your place." "What about the ship?" Schultz asked when he found his tongue, his voice bitter.
"The navigator can handle it. Unstrap and get out and give me your gear. You can briefme."...Jake lowered himself back down the ladder.
"CAG," came a voice from the backseat. "Do you want me in here?" Jake looked into the rear cockpit. Toad Tarkington was looking back.
Jake nodded yes and motioned for him to stay put.
When Harvey Schultz reached the flight deck, he began taking off his flight gear. "None of this stuff will fit you," he muttered.
"No time to wait for my stuff." Jake paused, then continued, "It isn't that I don't trust you, Harve, but I'm the senior man and I'm the one who should take the shit when the fan starts turning." "I could handle it, GAG." "I know that, Harve. But I'm not taking you up on the gallows with me.
I want you to get with my staff and get as many of these planes ready to fly as possible.
Cannibalize if you have to. If Qazi gets away, those weapons are going to crop up somewhere, and whoever ends up with them will have bought a lot of trouble.
You get this air wing ready to give them all the trouble it can dish out.
Get this ship ready to fight." Jake zipped Schultz's G-suit around his legs. The fit was terrible. Schultz's calves and thighs were much thicker than his; it was as if he wasn't wearing a G-suit at all. He unzipped it. He would just go without one.
Farnsworth came hurrying across the deck carrying a load of flight gear.
"I heard you were going flying, GAG." "Thanks, Farnsworth." Jake pulled his own G-suit from the pile Farnsworth laid on the deck and zipped it around his stomach and legs. Then he wriggled into his torso harness. All this was going on over his khakis, since Farnsworth hadn't brought his flight suit. "Ask the waist catapult officer," Jake said to Farnsworth as he pulled on his survival vest, histo come over here and talk to me." Schultz briefed Jake as he completed donning his flight gear.
They discussed rendezvous altitudes and frequencies. "Toad knows all this stuff," Schultz said. "You have two Phoenix missiles and two Sidewinders. We had to download the Sparrows-they had shrapnel damage." Ja
ke nodded. The Phoenix missiles were the big guns and were mounted on a missile pallet on the Tomcat's belly. Weighing almost a thousand pounds each, they could knock down a plane over sixty nautical miles away with a 32-pound warhead when red from any angle. They were expensive, too, costing over a million dollars each. Although the F-14 could carry six of them, because of their size, weight, and cost, Sparrows and Sidewinders were the usual load. Phoenix was loaded only when you were going hunting for bear-like now. The Sidewinders were heat seakers and had a limited head-on capability with a much shorter range. They were also a lot smaller and cheaper than Phoenix, weighing only 190 pounds each. Sidewinder was a simple, reliable weapon.
Farnsworth came back with Kowalski and a chief. "Morning, CAG," the chief said. He was in khaki trousers and a yellow shirt, but Kowalski was still wearing grimy civilian trousers.
His once white T-shirt had spots of vomit on it. "Where's the cat officer, chief?" "The only one we had aboard is dead, killed in that hangar fire, and the rest of them are on the beach.
Stephen Coonts - Jake Grafton 2 - Final Flight Page 40