Double Eagle(科幻战争)-第53部分

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Viltry　saw　her　plight。　He　pulled　away　from　the　superheavy　he　had　just　crippled　and　lit　his
burners；　spearing　down　through　the　bomber　formation　into　the　denser　smoke。
“Jagdea！　Come　left！”　he　called。　She　turned；　but　the　crimson　bats　would　not　let　her　go。　Viltry
fired　on　them　and　tucked　in。　He　couldn’t　get　a　lock。　He　wasn’t　going　to　get　them　in　time。
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Blansher　and　Kaminsky　left　the　bombers　alone　and　stooped　after　Jagdea　too。　Kaminsky　saw　the
pearl…white　bat　first。　It　seemed　to　come　out　of　the　vapour　of　fyceline　smoke　like　a　spectre；　gun…pods
flickering。　Umbra　Two　wrenched　violently　as　gaping　wounds　punched　into　its　tail　plane。
“Blansher！”　Kaminsky　yelled。
Blansher　tried　to　viff；　tried　to　shake　it　just　the　way　he　had　taught　Kaminsky。　But　his　vector　ports
were　damaged。　The　white　bat　fired　again；　a　stream　of　illuminated　shells；　and　a　spray　of　flames
sheathed　Blansher’s　entire　tail。　The　shots　had　penetrated　the　tanks　of　the　Thunderbolt’s　rocket
motor；　and　the　hypergolic　propellants　had　ignited。　The　huge　thread　of　flame　was　greenish…white
with　intense　heat。　Blansher　started　to　dive。
Ignoring　the　white　killer；　Kaminsky　scream…dived　after　Umbra　Two。　Blansher’s　plane　was　now
on　fire　from　nose　to　tail。
“Get　out！　Get　out；　Milan；　eject！”
“…can’t！　I…　can’t…　canopy’s　jammed！”
“Blansher！”
The　Thunderbolt　no　longer　resembled　a　plane。　It　fell　like　a　comet。　A　meteor。　An　attenuated　ball
of　fire；　almost　too　bright　to　look　at。　But　diving　with　it；　Kaminsky　could　not　look　away。　He　knew
fire。　He　knew　the　terror　of　a　burning　plane　all　too　well。
Blansher　started　screaming。　The　fire　was　inside　the　cockpit　now。　The　voice　on　the　vox　no　longer
seemed　human。
Kaminsky　was　strangely　relieved　when　the　inferno　hit　the　sea。
Obarkon　watched　with　curiosity　as　the　Imperial’s　wing…man　made　the　strange　choice　to　follow
his　burning　leader　down。　How　odd。　As　if　there　was　anything　he　could　do。
It　rendered　the　wingman　an　extraordinarily　easy　target。　Obarkon　turned　into　a　dive；　feeling　the
grav　armour　clench　around　his　body　and　the　cardio…centrifuges　throb。　He　blinked　to　settle　the
gunsight　focus　and　put　the　orange　pipper　on　the　wingman’s　tail。
Attention…
Target　found。
Just　a　little　more。
A　warning　sounded。　Obarkon　glanced　up　and　instinctively　raised　his　nose；　losing　the　target
immediately。　Shots　stripped　past　him。
“Someone’s　eager　to　die；”　he　muttered。
Darrow　came　in　hard　and　tight；　firing　as　soon　as　he　dared；　but　leaving　it　late　enough　to　be　in
positive　range。　The　white　bat　pulled　out　of　his　line　and　banked　away。
Darrow　turned　and　chased　it。　This　wasn’t　going　to　be　like　the　last　time。　He　wasn’t　going　to　run；
frantic；　in　an　outclassed　machine。　He　was　a　Thunderbolt　pilot　now。　The　bastard　white　bat　that　had
slaughtered　all　of　Hunt　Flight—and　Heckel　too；　in　a　way—was　going　to　be　the　one　doing　the
running。
A　vector…aided　roll　and　a　burst　of　speed　put　Darrow　closer　and　closer　still；　despite　the　enemy’s
excellent　out…rolls。　Darrow　got　two　brief　locks；　but　lost　them　both。　He　waited　for　the　third。
Interesting；　Obarkon　thought；　his　pulse　not　even　drifting　in　its　rhythm。　This　one　has　some　merit。
He　flies　by　the　claws。　If　this　had　been　a　quieter　hour；　he　would　have　enjoyed　sport　with　this　child。
But　this　was　the　day　of　days；　and　there　was　still　great　work　to　be　done。　This　duel　was　over。
The　white　bat　dropped　down　to　an　altitude　of　no　more　than　fifty　metres　and　proceeded　to　whip　in
and　out　of　the　inlets　and　bays　at　speeds　that　Darrow　thought　he’d　never　be　able　to　follow。　Every　turn
threatened　to　smash　them　into　a　sheer　cliff　or　clip　a　rocky　outcrop。
He　stayed　on　the　bat　as　long　as　he　could　and　then　was　forced　to　climb　by　a　jutting　atoll　that　he
knew　he　would　not　otherwise　avoid。　The　white　bat　let　him　go　over；　then　sliced　up　after　him；　firing。
Darrow　twisted　out；　but　the　bat　locked　him　cold。
Then　shots　sprayed　in　from　a　second　Thunderbolt。　It　was　Marquall。
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Viltry　put　all　his　power　into　a　last　turn　and　fired　again。　Now　at　last　he　disturbed　the　crimson　bats
enough　to　break　them　from　Jagdea’s　tail。　One　looped　back　to　engage　him。　“Switch　out！”　Jagdea
ordered。
Viltry　obeyed。　Ignoring　the　looping　attacker；　he　kept　on　after　the　other　one；　lining　up。　Jagdea
broke　wide　and　turned　up　to　face　the　threat　to　Viltry。
Viltry　opened　fire　and　the　crimson　bat　empted　and　came　apart。
A　moment　later；　Jagdea　caught　the　other　one　in　a　head…on　attack　and　ripped　it　out　of　the　sky。
Marquall’s　flunked　attack　gave　Darrow　time　to　break。　The　white　bat　turned　out　to　meet　Umbra
Eight。
“I’ve　got　him！”　Marquall　cried。　“I’ve　got　a　score　to　settle！”
So　have　I；　thought　Darrow。　And　I　wouldn’t　be　so　sure　that　you’ve　got　him　either。
Marquall　fired　again；　but　the　Razor　rolled　on　its　axis　and　slid　under　his　fire　cone。　Marquall
banked；　exactly　the　right　way；　but　the　white　bat　had　already　viffed　as　it　looped；　and　it　fell　on　him。　Its
gunpods　roared。
Darrow　watched　in　horror　as　shots　tore　into　the　midsection　of　Marquall’s　plane。
Marquall　wrenched　the　stick。　He　saw　an　engine　tube　explode　off；　and　felt　the　airframe　shake　as
rounds　went　into　the　hull　around　him。　Two　shots　buckled　his　air…mix　canisters　and　punctured　the
radiator。　Two　more　ripped　through　his　ejector　mount　and　packed　chute；　shredding　the　chute　and
bursting　shrapnel　from　the　seat　frame。　A　chunk　of　metal　chopped　Marquall’s　left　calf　and　another
whickered　up　from　under　the　seat　itself　and　punched　clean　through　the　meat　of　his　left　thigh。
He　screamed　in　pain　and　his　bird　fell　into　a　sharp　dive；　but　he　hauled　back　on　the　stick　and　came
up　again。　There　was　a　track　of　blood　spots　glued　to　the　inside　of　his　canopy。
Darrow　banked。　eat。　Darrow　hit　the　throttle　and　shot　across　the
pearl…white　bat；　deliberately　turning　out；　drawing　his　aim。　The　Razor　followed　him。
The　wounded　one　wasn’t　going　anywhere。　Obarkon　knew　he　should　take　care　of　the　one　with
the　real　merit　first。　Especially　as　the　child　had　now　made　a　very　basic　mistake　and　lined　himself　up；
vulnerable　for　the　Echelon　chieftain’s　guns。
The　auto…sight　reconfigured。　The　orange　pipper　drifted　in。
Darrow　went　low　through　the　atolls。　He’d　made　himself　a　target　for　Marquall’s　sake。　Running
for　his　life　did　not　seem　like　the　best　way　to　fight　the　enemy。
But　he　remember　what　Eads　had　said。　Retreat　is　a　hard　thing　to　deal　with；　but　you’ll　be　a　better
warrior；　Enric；　if　you　realise　that　sometimes　that’s　the　only　way　to　win。
“Come　on！　That’s　right！　Come　on！”　Darrow　yelled。　“You　couldn’t　catch　me　before；　you　won’t
catch　me　now！”
Darrow　raced　between　the　islets　and　the　jagging　rocks；　lifting　spray　in　his　wake；　flying　on　pure
nerve　and　instinct。　He　had　no　idea　how　he　avoided　some　obstacles。　There　was　no　time　to　think。　The
pearl…white　bat　was　right　at　his　heels。　It　fired　twice；　three　times；　missing　Umbra　Nine　and　spraying
chunks　of　rock　from　the　island　stacks。
By　the　claws　indeed。　Such　skill。　It　reminded　Obarkon　of　a　chase　he’d　once　enjoyed　in　the
Makanites。　Another　young　pup　with　promethium　in　his　veins。
But　the　game　had　to　end。
Attention…
Target　found。
“Goodnight；”　said　Obarkon；　as　his　hardwired　thumbs　dug　at　the　trigger　paddle。
Darrow　heard　the　target　lock　shrilling。
“Umbra　Eight；　for　Throne’s　sake！　How　long　have　I　got　to　keep　him　occupied？”
The　pearl…white　bat　fired。
Two　shots　tore　into　Darrow’s　tail　fin。
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Vander　Marquall；　travelling　at　over　nine　hundred　kph；　came　up　over　an　atoll’s　flat　top；　head　on。
He　went　right　across　Darrow’s　plane　and　blazed　his　quads　on　sustain　at　the　white　bat　dead　ahead。
The　furious　fire　needed　no　angle　of　deflection。　Obarkon’s　machine　flew　straight　into　it；　without
any　time　to　evade。
For　a　millisecond；　the　pearl…white　Razor　deformed。　Its　multi…punctured　hull　shredded。　Stress
fractures　peeled　away　armour　like　dead　skin。　The　blitzing　cannon　shell　vaporised　the　pilot。　Then　the
engine　and　weapons　batteries　detonated　in　a　cataclysmic　flash。
Marquall　rode　out　of　the　sheet　of　fire　and　came　clear　on　the　other　side。　Fluttering　hunks　of　pearlwhite
armour　scattered　wide　and　rained　down　across　the　lagoon。
“I　think；”　said　Vander　Marquall；　“that　makes　me　an　ace。”
Over　the　Midwinters；　19。30
Darrow　climbed　back　into　the　raging　air　brawl。　“I　thought　we’d　lost　you；　Nine；”　Jagdea　voxed。
“Copy　Leader；　I’m　okay。　Marquall’s　been　hit。　I　told　him　to　turn　for　home。”
“Copy　that。”
“Umbra　Lead；　he　got　the　bat。　He　stung　the　white　bat。　Definite　kill。”
Jagdea　rolled　Zero…Two　through　the　streaming　tracer。　That　news　was　the　only　thing　worth
smiling　about　she’d　heard　all　day。
The　sky　was　full　of　aircraft　and　fire；　like　some　great　scene　of　damnation　on　a　templum　frieze。
With　Viltry　turning　high　to　her　left；　she　stooped　into　the　pandemonium　and　started　to　avenge
Blansher。
Lucerna　AB；　21。00
It　was　now　almost　dark；　and　strangely　quiet。　The　third　wave　had　faltered　and　broken　half　an　hour
before；　and　some　gut　instinct　told　Bree　Jagdea　that　there　would　be　no　fourth　wave。　Not　that　day。
The　fitters　had　to　almost　carry　her　out　of　her　battered　Thunderbolt。　Zemmic　and　Van　Tull　had
just　landed。　Van　Tull；　sneezing　blood；　had　lost　a　third　of　one　wing。　Viltry　and　Kaminsky　sat　with
their　backs　to　the　hangar　wall；　drained　of　all　strength。
She　crouched　down　with　them。　She　wanted　to　speak；　but　there　was　nothing　to　say　and　no　effort
left　to　say　it　with　anyway。
Darrow　was　last　back。　He　had　taken　fifteen　of　the　enemy。　A　triple　ace。
He　climbed　out　of　his　aircraft；　dropped　his　helmet　from　his　trembling　fingers；　and　made　the　sign
of　the　blessed　aquila。　The　sacred　double　eagle。
“Commander？”　he　called　out。　“Commander　Jagdea？”
She　rose。　“What’s　the　matter；　Darrow？”
“Where’s　Marquall？”　he　asked。
Over　the　Straits；　21。01
Still　flying　level　and　true；　Thunderbolt　serial　Nine…Nine　Double　Eagle　crossed　the　Straits　of　Jabez　at
six　thousand　metres；　cruising；　with　the　fuel　dwindling　in　its　tanks。　The　ocean　lay　before　it。
Vander　Marquall　sat　in　his　seat；　his　head　hung　forward　slightly。
The　vox　crackled。　“Umbra　Eight？　Umbra　Eight？　This　is　Lucerna　Operations？　Do　you　copy？”
Marquall　did　not　answer。　The　damaged　air…mix　system　had　filled　his　cockpit　with　carbon
dioxide　over　half　an　hour　earlier。
The　plane　flew　on；　true　to　its　nature　at　the　very　last；　out　across　the　ocean　and　into　the　folds　of　the
night。
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EPILOGUE
No　fourth　wave　came。　Not　that　day　or　any　day。　Though　the　air　war　on　Enothis　continued　for　three
further　weeks；　the　losses　suffered　by　the　Archenemy　air　force　on　the　270th　were　so　severe　that　a
willingness　to　try　such　a　venture　again　seemed　to　leave　them。
The　Battle　of　the　Zophonian　Sea；　as　the　history　texts　now　call　it；　was　not　the　final　fight　of　the
Enothian　War；　but　it　was　the　most　decisive。　In　the　weeks　that　followed；　Lord　Militant　Humel’s
counter…offensive　began　and；　with　reinforcements　from　the　Khan　Group；　the　Imperial　Guard　began
to　strike　back　into　the　south；　into　a　demoralised　enemy。　The　Trinity　Hives　finally　fell；　after　months
of　savage　fighting；　on　the　62nd　day　of　774。M41。　By　that　time；　the　Archenemy　Magister　Sek　had　fled
the　planet。　Records　show　that　the　first　unit　to　breach　the　Trinity　Gates　was　an　armoured　regiment
commanded　by　a　Captain　Robart　LeGuin。
During　the　Battle　of　the　Zophonian　Sea；　Imperial　air　losses　were