“Okay,” he said. He felt drained . . . defeated. “Raise the boat. Mat Tell’em we’re coining in. And . . .” He hesitated, watching the burning ship. Was Admiral Vaughn still alive? “Better tell them that Vicksburg’s been hit”
ARMAGEDDON HODE
273
[hours, 26 (torch E200
stone closed his finger over the red firing button on the “Fox one, fox one!” His last missile, an AIM-7M >w, ignited in a blast of white smoke and flame and away from the Tomcat. At forty-five thousand feet, lair was diamond-clear, the sky an endless deep and crystal be.’ The Sparrow’s contrail stood out in sharp relief as it to the north like a chalk line scrawled across a :kboard.
/’He’s turning, Tombstone,” Hitman announced. Tomb-glanced down at his VDI. The target, a lumbering 11-38 laissance aircraft thirty miles away, appeared to be ig away toward the north . . . and Kathiawar. “They’re running,” Tombstone said, almost unable to Ueve what he was seeing. The wave of Indian aircraft had ck against the combined squadrons full-force . . . and sn.
I’He checked his fuel. It was low . . . down to thirty-five pounds. They’d burned a hell of a lot on Zone Five. “Hey, Tombstone?” Hitman said. “I’m getting a oh, God!”
heard it over his headset as well. Batman was ig the Jefferson, reporting the Vicksburg hit by a missile. too early to tell how badly the Aegis cruiser was hit, but I’t sound good.
I^He’s right,” Hitman said a moment later. “Looks like the net is down. Shit, Tombstone, the squadron’s naked
t
jWith a stubborn determination, Tombstone held the Tomcat | level flight, continuing to paint the fleeing Illyushin with his t’s radar. At Mach 4, the Sparrow traveled the thirty to the target in less than fifty seconds. The blips marking le and target merged on Tombstone’s VDI.
“‘He took a deep breath, watching the blips scattered across VDI. It was clear that the Indian aircraft were in full retreat t. The Russian-American force had won.
274
Keith Douglass
ARMAGEDDON MODE
275
But at what cost? Kreml was still burning at last report. And now Vicksburg, shattered by a missile that had knocked out the battle group’s Aegis network.
The Tomcat squadrons had suffered as well, the two replacements, Maverick and Trapper and their RIOs, shot down during the aerial melee.
And Army and Dixie.
It took several minutes more for the 11-38 to die, falling from almost fifty thousand feet. By the time the radar trace fragmented and vanished, Tombstone and Hitman were already heading south and descending.
On the horizon, they could just make out the black speck that was the Jefferson, almost lost against the unending sea.
0915 hours, 26 March
Admiral Vaughn became aware first of the pain, a sharp-edged throbbing in his right arm that grated when he tried to move. The darkness was next, a stinking, pitch-black night that lay across his face, choking him with each breath.
He tried to call out but heard nothing, felt nothing but the pain in his arm and a searing rasp in his throat.
Hearing returned, gradually, beginning with a high-pitched ringing that slowly subsided, replaced by shouts and screams, by the crackle of an open flame and the hiss of a ruptured steam pipe, by the sobbing, agonized moaning of someone lying close by but out of his sight. The darkness was relieved now, he saw, by the orange tongues of flame dancing above a shattered radar console. Vicksburg’ s CIC suite had been transformed into a black and twisted cavern, illuminated only by the acrid glare of burning wiring.
“Syoodah!” a raw voice beside him. “Skaryehyeh! Pama-geeteh!”
Hands closed on his shoulders and Vaughn screamed, “My arm! It’s broken!”
“Sorry, Admiral.” English mis time. Vaughn recognized Sharov’s voice. “Lie still. Help is coming.”
“My legs,” he said. “Can’t . . . feel them.”
•”Skaryehyeh, pahzahloostah!” Sharov yelled. “Hurry, gase!”
The glare of flashlights danced and stabbed in the near-sss. Vaughn heard other voices, speaking English, and ^’ife .scrabble and clatter of men moving through the wreckage. shoosh-shoosh of someone triggering a fire extinguisher : above the babble. ^””Admiral? Can you hear me?” IM’Y-yeah. Cunningham?”