"Дон Пендлтон. The Libya Connection ("Палач" #48) " - читать интересную книгу автора

I've got to reach him."
Fieldhouse paused to frame a reply, balancing the odds in his mind. He
nodded at the moonwashed expanse of sea.
"The Gulf of Sidra is where two of our planes made hot contact with two
of Libya's Su-22s a while back. Soviet-built fighter planes. Those Sus are
at the bottom of that gulf right now. Our intel is that Khaddafi's training
program hasn't kept up with the technology he's been acquiring. Yes, his
army and airforce do have the equipment to spot you coming in. But whether
they actually spot you, and how quickly they respond... well, I'd say you
stand a chance of getting in and out again if you fly low. Not a good
chance, but some chance. What do you need?"
Grimaldi tossed his cigarette butt over the rail.
He had needed some few minutes alone after receiving the communique
from Stony Man Farm. He came up here from the ship's communications room,
had filled his lungs with gulps of ocean air and half a cigarette. It was
enough.
He could handle it.
"What have you got that will get me in fast under their radar grid and
punch hard when I get there, Admiral?"
"My recommendation would be our new Boeing 1041 multirole V/STOL," said
Fieldhouse. "We have two of them below, on twenty-four standby-one of them
without markings.''
"What kind of armament?"
"The 1041 has air-to-air and air-to-surface missile capability.
Unfortunately it's not equipped with cannon or machine guns. But with a
flight speed of about Mach 0.8, I'd say she's your best bet for the kind of
hit you seem to have in mind." The navy man studied the Stony Man pilot with
a long look. "This is a very bizarre mission, Mr. Grimaldi."
Grimaldi grunted grim acknowledgment. "It's a bizarre world, Admiral.
I'll take your advice. The 1041 it is. Lead the way, please."
Fieldhouse moved down to the principal hangar belowdecks.
Grimaldi tossed one last look over his shoulder at the dark beauty of
the Med. He wondered if the sea would still sparkle in the moonlight and
reflect those stars the way it did right now - after everyone was dead.
Yeah. Everyone.
Strain-7 - No one knew for sure exactly what it was capable of. The
worst possible guess, of course, was that it had the capability of killing
off every human being on the face of the earth...
It was very literally a matter of life and death for most of the planet
that Mack Bolan now held in his hands.
And Mack did not know it.
Ah, friend, soldier, go carefully in this night. This dark night in
your endless war.
Jack Grimaldi knew that his best friend was walking a lonely trail now,
and that he was risking all because he did not want to further endanger Eve
Aguilar's life; and yes, Grimaldi could identify with that. The pilot was a
man of well-defined, fiery Italian temperament who appreciated completely
the powers of love and caring that were the lifeblood of his race and the
driving force of a bigger-than-life dude named Mack Bolan. The guy would've
made a damn good Italiano.