scoonts.theminotaur-第20节

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　Moravia　slapped　the　gear　handle　up　and；　passing　170　knots；　raised　the　flaps　and　slats。　Climbing　and　accelerating；　the　Intruder　shot　over　the　little　town　of　Oak　Harbor　bellowing　its　song。　Upward　they　flew；　upward；　into　the　smooth　gentle　sky。
　He　was　flying　again。　It　seemed…somehow　it　was　strange　and　bittersweet　all　at　once。　He　hadn't　thought　about　his　last　flight　in　months；　but　now　as　the　engines　moaned　and　the　plane　swam　through　the　air；　memories　of　his　last　flight　with　Jake　Grafton　in　an　F…14　over　the　Med　flooded　over　Toad　Tarkington。　There　was　fear　in　those　memories。　He　fought　to　push　them　out　of　his　mind　as　he　twiddled　the　knobs　to　optimize　the　radar　presentation　and　checked　the　puter　readouts。　He　glanced　outside。　The　peaks　of　the　Cascade　Mountains　were　sliding　by　beneath　the　plane。　The　steep　crags　were　gray　in　those　places　where　the　clouds　and　snow　didn't　hide　their　naked　slopes。
　Rita　Moravia　had　the　Intruder　level　at　Flight　Level　230…23；000　feet　Toad　concentrated　on　the　equipment　on　the　panel　in　front　of　him。　As　he　tried　desperately　to　remember　all　that　his　instructor　had　told　him；　he　sneaked　a　glance　at　Moravia。　She　sat　in　her　seat　calmly　scanning　the　sky　and　the　instrument　panel。　She　had　engaged　the　autopilot　and　was　watching　it　fly　the　plane。　Now　she　adjusted　the　bug　on　the　HSI；　the　rotating　pass　ring。　She　had　the　Yakima　TACAN　dialed　in。　Now　she　toggled　the　switch　that　moved　her　seat　up　a　millimeter　and　stretched　lazily。　〃Nice　plane；　huh？〃　she　said　when　her　left　hand　once　more　came　to　rest　on　the　throttles；　where　her　ICS　button　was。
　Toad　fumbled　with　his　ICS　button；　which　he　keyed　with　his　left　foot。　〃Yeah。　Fucking　super。〃
　〃How's　the　system？〃
　〃Looks　okay　to　me；　as　if　I　knew。〃
　〃Found　Yakima　yet？〃
　He　ignored　the　question　as　he　studied　the　radar。　The　city　was　still　seventy　miles　away　according　to　the　TACAN。　There　it　was　on　the　radar；　right　under　the　cursor　cross　hairs；　just　a　blob　of　solid　return　amid　a　whole　scope　of　return　from　hills　and　ridges　and　houses　and　barns。
　Yeah；　Toad；　you　better　figure　out　how　to　find　a　city　in　all　this　mess　or　this　little　flight　is　gonna　be　a　disaster。　The　whole　essence　of　the　bombardier's　art　was　interpreting　this　jumble　of　return　on　the　radar　scope。　And　Jake　Grafton　and　those　other　A…6　perverts　demanded　he　pick　it　up　in　just　a　week！　Well；　he'd　show　them！　If　those　attack　weenies　can　figure　out　this　shit　in　eight　months；　a　week　will　be　about　right　for　the　old　Horny　Toad。　After　all；　this　worn…out　flying　dump　truck…
　Moravia　was　asking　Seattle　Center　if　they　could　proceed　direct　to　the　start　of　the　low…level　route。　Toad　cycled　the　steering　to　that　point　and　examined　the　radar　carefully。　Thank　God　the　guys　at　VA…128　had　picked　a　town　on　the　Columbia　River　to　start　the　route。　Even　a　blind　fighter　RIO…Radar　Intercept　Officer…could　find　that　Or　should　be　able　to　find　it　with　the　aid　of　the　radarscope　photographs　that　were　included　in　the　navigation　package　for　this　route。　He　arranged　the　stack　of　photographs　on　his　kneeboard　and　pared　the　first　one　to　the　live　presentation　on　the　radar　scope。　Yep！
　They　had　passed　the　third　checkpoint　on　the　navigation　route　and　were　somewhere　in　central　Oregon　flying　at　360　knots　true；　335　indicated；　500　feet　above　the　ground；　when　Toad's　savage　mood　began　to　improve。　He　was　identifying　the　checkpoints　without　difficulty；　no　doubt　because　they　were　ridiculously　prominent　features　in　the　landscape　ahead；　but　he　was　finding　them。　The　system　seemed　to　be　working　as　advertised　and　the　INS　was　tight；　tight　as　a　virgin's。。。
　For　the　first　time　he　became　aware　of　Moravia's　smooth；　confident　touch　on　the　controls。　She　flew　the　plane　with　a　skill　that　belied　her　inexperience。　Toad　watched　her　handle　the　plane。　The　stick　barely　moved　as　the　plane　rose　and　fell　to　follow　the　ground　contour　and　her　thumb　flicked　the　trim　button　automatically。　She　was　good。　The　airspeed　needle　seemed　glued　to　the　335…knot　tic　on　the　dial　〃You're　a　pretty　good　pilot；〃　he　said　on　the　ICS…
　〃Just　navigate；〃　she　replied；　not　even　glancing　at　him。
　Another　casual　slap　in　the　chops。　Goddamn　women！　He　placed　his　face　against　the　black　hood　that　shielded　the　radar　scope　and　studiously　ignored　her。
　The　plane　approached　the　Columbia　River　again　from　the　south　down　a　long；　jagged　canyon　that　ran　almost　straight　north　out　of　central　Oregon。　Stealing　glances　from　the　radar；　out　the　right　side　of　the　airplane　Toad　saw　a　harsh；　arid　landscape　of　cliffs　and　stone　pillars；　spectacular　monuments　to　the　power　of　wind　and　water　and　the　vastness　of　time。　The　almost　vertical　rock　surfaces　produced　crisp；　sharp　images　on　the　radar　screen。　He　examined　the　infrared　display。　The　infrared　images　were　from　a　sensor　mounted　on　a　turret　on　the　bottom　of　the　aircraft's　nose；　immediately　in　front　of　the　nose…gear　door。　The　sides　of　the　rock　toward　the　sun　looked　almost　white　on　the　IR　scope；　which　was　mounted　above　the　radar　scope　and　was　also　shielded　from　extraneous　light　by　the　black　flexible　hood　projecting　from　the　instrument　panel。
　The　navigation　checkpoint　to　enter　the　navy's　target　range　at　Boardman；　Oregon；　was　a　grain　silo　and　barn　on　top　of　a　cliff　near　the　lower　reaches　of　this　canyon。　The　cursors…cross　hairs　positioned　by　the　puter　on　the　radar　screen…rested　near　a　prominent　blip。　Toad　turned　up　the　magnification　on　the　infrared　as　he　moved　the　cursors　to　the　blip。　Yep。　That　was　the　bam　all　right。　Over　the　bam　he　cycled　the　steering　to　the　initial　point　for　the　run…in　to　the　target　and　called　the　range　on　radio。　〃November　Julie　832；　you're　cleared　in。〃　Rita　let　the　plane　drift　up　to　1；500　feet　above　the　ground。　They　bad　left　the　cliffs　and　canyons　behind　them　and　flew　now　over　almost　flat；　gently　rolling　terrain　that　was　used　for　dry…land　fanning。　Following　a　printed　checklist　on　his　kneeboard；　Toad　set　the　switches　in　the　cockpit　for　bombing。　Six　blue　twenty…five…pound　Mark　76　practice　bombs　hung　on　a　rack　under　the　right　wing；　Station　Four。　Each　of　these　little　bombs　contained　a　smoke　charge　that　would　mark　the　spot　of　impact。　The　A…6　crossed　the　initial　point；　the　IP；　and　Rita　swung　it　toward　the　target　ten　miles　east。
　The　target　lay　on　the　south　side　of　the　Columbia　River　in　fiat；　dry；　treeless　country。　The　run…in　line　was　marked　by　a　dirt　road　on　the　ground；　but　neither　Toad　nor　Rita　paid　any　attention。　During　the　minute　and　forty　seconds　it　took　the　Intruder　to　traverse　the　ten　miles　from　the　IP　to　the　target。　Toad　was　absorbed　in　getting　the　cursors　precisely　on　the　radar　reflector　that　marked　the　target　bull's…eye；　checking　the　puter　and　inertial　readouts；　using　the　infrared　for　visual　ID；　locking　up　the　target　with　the　laser　ranger…designator；　then　checking　the　information　the　puter　received　to　make　sure　it　was　valid。　Finally　he　put　the　system　into　attack。
　Even　though　the　practice　bombs　lacked　laser　seekers；　the　laser　in　Elbe　nose　turret　would　give　the　puter　more　precise　range　and　angular　information　than　the　radar　could。　Rita　was　equally　busy　flying　the　plane　and　centering　the　steering　mands　on　the　Analog　Display　Indicator；　the　ADI；　immediately　in　front　of　her。　The　infrared　and　laser　stayed　locked　to　the　radar　reflector　on　the　little　tower　that　constituted　the　target　bull's…eye　even　after　bomb　release　as　the　nose　turret　rotated。　In　the　cockpit　Toad　watched　the　picture　on　the　infrared　display　change　as　the　plane　passed　over　the　target。　He　was　looking　at　an　inverted　picture　of　the　tower　when　he　felt　the　puff　of　smoke　near　the　base　sent　up　by　the　practice　bomb。　An　excellent　hit。　
　On　the　downwind　leg　Toad　raised　his　helmet　visor　and　swabbed　his　face　with　his　gloved　hands。　This　was　work。　The　plane　was　faded　west　parallel　to　the　Columbia　River。　Rita　scanned　the　sky　around　aircraft。
　〃832；　your　hit　twenty…five　feet　at　six　o'clock。〃
　〃Roger。〃　Toad　made　a　note　on　his　kneeboard。　〃On　the　next　run；〃　he　said　to　Rita；　〃let's　do　500　knots。〃
　〃Okay。〃
　At　the　increased　speed　Toad　had　only　about　sixty…five　seconds　from　the　IP　to　bomb　release；　so　he　had　to　work　faster。　The　plane　bounced　in　the　warm　afternoon　thermals。　In　wartime　the　plane　would　race　in　toward　its　target　at　full　throttle。　The　air　could　be　full　CS　flak　and　enemy　radar　signals　probing　the　darkness　to　lock　them　up　for　a　missile　shot。　Today　over　this　Oregon　prairie　under　a　brilliant　sun；　Toad　could　visualize　how　it　would　be。　Sweat　trickled　down　his　forehead　and　into　his　eyes　as　he　manipulated　the　switches　and　knobs　of　the　equipment。　He　got　the　bomb　off　but　he　was　Struggling。　He　would　need　a　lot　of　practice　to　gain　real　proficiency；　and　today　the　equipment　was　working　perfectly；　no　one　was　shooting。
　〃A　thousand　feet　this　time；　as　fast　as　she'll　go。〃
　〃Roger；〃　Rita　said。
　As　fast　as　she'll　go　turned　out　to　be　512　knots　indicated。　On　the　next　run　they　came　at　five　hundred　feet；　then　four　hundred；　then　three。
　On　the　downwind　leg　before　their　last　run；　Toad　flipped　the　radar　switch　from　transmit　to　standby。　The　picture　disappeared　from　the　scope。　A　stealth　bomber　that　beaconed　its　position　with　radar　emissions　would　have　a　short　life　and　fiery　end。　The　infrared　was　passive；　emitting　nothing。
　As　they　crossed　the　IP　inbound；　Toad　found　the　infrared　was　still　on　the　bull's…eye　tower。　With　the　help　of　the　iner