"William Forstchen - Crystal Warriors 1 - Crystal Warriors" - читать интересную книгу автора (Forstchen William R)

"Mark, this is Kraut. It's not good."

"Go on."

"There's no way we'll make it back to base. Our only hope of safety is to head for Soviet territory."

Russia would mean internment. The Reds were still at peace with Japan, and it could take months before
they would be cycled back into the fighting. But there were the unofficial orders, as well. The B-29s were
the best the U.S. had. Russia might be their ally, but the longer the Russians had to wait before getting
their hands on a model, the better high command would feel. Russia was out.

"Here comes that one from above!"

Mark braced himself for the impact. The Dragon Fire shuddered as the enemy's guns stitched yet more
holes in the damaged wing. Trying to knock off the Zero's aim, Mark desperately rolled the plane, but he
could see they were taking more damage. The enemy shot past, followed by twin arcs of tracers from the
bottom guns.
"She's not going to hold up much longer," Younger shouted. "Number four is starting to lose pressure."

Mark could almost smell Younger's panic. How had he ever got stuck with this clown, anyway? His old
copilot Tom Seay had been with him in Europe along with Kochanski and Walker, and together the four
had made a good team. But a bout of amoebic dysentery got Tom pulled from this eight-hour run.
Younger's old commander, John Foss, had ditched him at the first chance, and now Mark could see
why. The guy was a coward--he couldn't hack the pressure.

"Russia's out, Kraut. You wanta eat borsch for the rest of the war?"

"Thought you'd say that," Goldberg cut in. "My old man never did have anything good to say for them
cossacks, anyhow. Listen, Mark, our fuel loss is increasing. I can give you three hundred miles max,
more like two fifty."

"Where does that put us, Kraut?"

"Puts us over to a heading of, just a minute... puts us onto two sixty-five. If we can make two hundred
seventy-five miles, we'll enter guerrilla country, along the China-Mongolia border. We might have a
chance there. Rough terrain though--we'll have to bail out."

"Mark, we can't jump." It was Kochanski, the radar operator.

"Why not?"

"It's Jose."

"How's he doing?"

"Not too good: he's unconscious. I've stopped the blood loss; his arm looks pretty bad. He's in no shape
to jump."

Shit! He'd have to order the crew out and then pull the heroic act. If he jumped from a plane leaving a
crew member to certain death, he could never live with himself. Once they cleared Japanese space, he'd