"Maloney, Mack - Wingman 04 - Thunder in the East UC" - читать интересную книгу автора (Maloney Mack)

Jones tried to stay calm, but he was quickly losing patience with the man.

"I said we have to stay smart," Jones replied sternly. "And I repeat that we have ten thousand prisoners being held inside that city. Those people will be massacred if we act harshly."

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the Texan was up on his feet. "But by that line of reasoning, they're going to get killed no matter when we invade, so I say do it now!"

Once again, Jones took a deep breath and fought the temptation to lash out at the man. The Texans were good friends and superior soldiers. He didn't want to open up a rift with them now.

"My hope is," the small wiry general said in measured tones, "that by the time the rest of our troops arrive, our efforts inside the city will force the crackpot in charge of the Circle garrison there to see the light. Who knows? He may even pull out of the city altogether..."

"But that's no better for us," The Texan shouted. "If we don't fight them here, we'll have to fight them somewhere along the way to the east coast."

That was it-the breaking point for Jones. "Don't you think I know that?" he angrily shouted back at the man. "But there are brave men of ours risking their lives right now in that city, while we sit back here and discuss the finer points of warfare. They're doing everything from organizing the underground to directing our air strikes . . .

"We have to give these men tune. Tune to reconnoiter and identify strong points we'll have to destroy when we do invade. Time to come up with an escape route for the POWs when we do attack. These things are important to our larger goal. We just cannot risk being hasty at this very important juncture."

The Texan fell silent. A murmur went around the room. The majority of those assembled knew that these were tough decisions and that the burden of making them fell entirely on the shoulders of General Dave Jones.

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But for his part, Jones just hoped that his fifth columnists were still alive and safe within the city . . .

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CHAPTER 2

The two A-4 Skyhawks roared in without warning . . .

They passed low over the downtown section of Football City, their engines unleashing an unearthly scream, which shook buildings and people alike. The sun had just set and the devil-may-care activity of the city was just starting to warm up. But now the bright lights and music of the gambling casinos and whorehouses were replaced by an immediate blackout and the wail of air raid sirens.

A scattering of anti-aircraft fire followed the A-4s as they pulled up and turned east, away from the heart of downtown. Major Tomb, the man in charge of the Circle's AA battalion, watched the two jets from the top of the circle headquarters, the former Federal Building just blocks from downtown.

"Goddamn Skyhawks are loaded with ECM," he cursed to his lieutenant as they watched two SA-7 surface-to-air missiles rise up from the city limits only to careen away from the streaking jets and fall harmlessly into the Mississippi. "It's like those bastards know where every one of our SAMs is located."

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He would never know just how close he was to the truth . . .

Tomb put his NightScope spyglasses back up to his eyes and zeroed in on the lead Skyhawk. Underneath its belly he could see a single bomb-a laser-guided AGM-65 Maverick air-to-surface missile. On the front of the airplane was the unmistakable nub of a AAS-35 laser tracking pod, the electronic brains which would direct the Maverick to its target.

As Tomb watched, the first Skyhawk banked, then roared in on a gasoline truck farm down near the river dock works. When the airplane was about a mile away from the target, he saw a puff of smoke spit out from under its fuselage. The Maverick had launched.

"Damn, he's got a lock on the gas trucks," he said.

The missile uncannily went through a set of gyrations before finally slamming into the first of six gas trucks parked in a line. All the while AA fire and SAMs were being launched at the attackers, but to utterly no effect.

The gasoline trucks exploded in a frenzy of blue and green flames. Then the second Skyhawk swooped in, and mimicking its flight leader, unleashed another precision-guided Maverick, which impacted on the control house for the truck farm.