“I can certainly agree with you there,” Eddie said feelingly. “But to be honest, better than even is a lot better chance than I’d figured on.”
He leaned forward, gazing down at the large-scale chart of Wismar and its approaches pinned down on the table between him and Jesse, studying it so intently that no one would ever have guessed he didn’t actually see it at all.
“What are your intentions?” Jesse asked quietly.
“Um?” Eddie looked back up quickly and shook himself. “Well, Captain Stecher’s supposed to be staying in line-of-sight from our antenna overnight, so we should be able to catch any transmission from him if he spots anything out there tonight. If he does, Larry and I may try a night attack with the low-light gear.” He paused, and Jesse nodded in understanding. Given all of the deer hunters in and around Grantville, it had been inevitable that several someones would have acquired low-light vision equipment. As it happened, no less than thirteen Russian Army surplus night-vision glasses had turned up, along with four low-light telescopic rifle sights. Batteries would become a problem eventually, but not for quite some time. And in the meantime, they provided a limited, potentially invaluable night combat capability.
“And if Stecher doesn’t spot anything?” Jesse asked.
“In that case, we’re going to have to go looking for them ourselves,” Eddie replied. “Either that, or just sit here and wait for them, and that’s not what the admiral had in mind when he sent us up here. Which is why I hope you can get into the air tomorrow.”
“Understood.” It was Jesse’s turn to step closer to the map table and frown down at the chart. “At the very least, we can probably get up under the cloud deck and circle above the city. That would extend Stecher’s range; you could send him further out and still give him a good line-of-sight to the radio in the plane. And we could get back onto the ground in a hurry if the weather went bad on us again.
“Of course,” he continued, “his detection range is going to be limited. I doubt the Danes could slip an entire fleet past him, but it certainly wouldn’t be impossible. Depending on how far he can actually see, we might need to send one or both of the planes out to do the scouting for you.” His hand traced an arc across Wismar Bay toward the open waters of the Baltic beyond. “I’d be a lot happier about trying that if the weather really cleared instead of just improving, of course. But if we can get up at all, we should be able to see a lot further than you could from sea level. And we’ve got the camcorders rigged in both planes. So if we do see anything, we should be able to bring back pretty decent reconnaissance footage.”
“What about the rockets?” Eddie asked in a suddenly toneless voice, and Jesse’s frown deepened. He understood the need to throw every possible weapon at the Danes. And there wasn’t any technical reason why they couldn’t strap a couple of rockets under either wing. The problem was that Jesse didn’t see much chance that weapons that short-ranged and inaccurate were likely to do much damage, whereas their weight would certainly decrease the aircraft’s safety margins. Not to mention their potential to explode in a bad landing . . . or takeoff.
On the other hand, he reminded himself, the amount of actual damage they did might be pretty much immaterial compared to their morale effect.
“All right,” he said reluctantly. Then he sighed. “I suppose there never really was much question,” he admitted. “Not after Greg Ferrara went ahead and wired the damned hard points for them!”
Mike looked over the pile of equipment Harry Lefferts had brought to Magdeburg with him, now stacked in a well-shielded and guarded part of the naval yard. He shook his head, partly in bemusement at the weird assemblage, but mostly at the thought of Harry himself. And the barely veiled glee with which he and his handful of cohorts had so obviously put it all together.
“Two outboard motors?”
Harry grinned. “Don’t be a cheapskate, Mike. We’re on a mission of mercy, remember.”