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Authors: John Schettler
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Irish. We never know what we want,
but we’re prepared to fight to the death until we get it.”
“Is
Fairchild Irish? I thought she was proper British.”
“That
she is, but there’s a wee bit of good Irish honey in her blood, and those lips have
kissed the blarney stone, eh? Why else would she plant the company flag on the
Isle of Man, right smack in the Irish Sea?”
“Missing
Bradytown, are you?”
“Aye,
we’re a long way from home out here, Tommy. Now we get this new mission and something
tells me a good many of us may not ever get home again.”
Wicks
thought that one over, his eyes drifting to one of the rifle squads resting in the
open hanger across the way. “What is it we’re supposed to do, exactly?”
“There’s
a Russian base on the other side of that big lake out there.”
“Lake?
You mean the Caspian Sea?”
“Right-O.
Well, we’re paying them a visit, if you know what I mean. Mack Morgan thinks they’re
ready to run some kind of Spetsnaz operation from an anchorage just off shore.
They want us to crash the party.”
“Lord
almighty! What are we up against?”
“Not
much off shore. Just a big floating power plant, but the Russians seem to be using
it as a staging base for some pending operation. They want us to shoot the damn
thing up before they get it underway.”
“Where
is the place?”
“About
15 klicks off the coast near that naval base at Kaspiysk. I make it about 350 kilometers
from here.”
“That
sounds like a run and gun mission, Lieutenant. We taking the Argonauts?”
“Well
we’ve got to get them home some way, right? But you’re right, we won’t much need
them on a mission like this. My plan is to get them down to Baku—that’s a 500
kilometer run, so we’ll need to refuel there again at the BP facility. Then we
run up the coast, go in fast and low, paint the target, and let the missiles do
the rest. We can pick the Argonauts up on the way back.”
“If
we make it back,” said Wicks with a shrug. “We’re packing Hydra-70s in the rocket
pods. Their effective range is 8,000 meters, and they’re unguided, so we’ll
have to be pretty damn close. You think the Russians might know we’re coming?
They’ll sure as hell have radar and SAM batteries at that naval base. We’ve got
a fairly small radar cross section, but they’ll see us in time.”
“Aye,
and they won’t be happy when they do. Things are getting pretty dicey now.
Russians beefed up the 414th Naval Infantry at Kaspiysk. There’s a motorized
column from their 58th Army heading for Makhachkala. Could be trouble, and
Morgan thinks they mean to make a move on Baku, and grab the Kashagan
superfields up here while they’re at it.”
“What’s
this world coming to, Lieutenant?”
“No
good,” said Ryan. “Well, the birds are all fueled and ready to go. Let’s get the
Argonauts loaded and get on with it.”
“What
about those Chevron people?”
“What,
Flack and the rest? They come too, at least as far as, Baku. The birds will be heavy
but we’ll lift them easily enough. That will take more fuel, which is why we
top off at Baku again after we get back. It’ll be another thousand kilometer run
back to Argos in the Black Sea. So take a good look at the Caspian while
we’re here, Tommy. And I hope to God we never see the damn place again.”
Ryan
turned to the open hanger and gave a loud whistle, waving at the men there. The
Argonauts had done what they came for. It was no problem scaring off the local militias
near the oil fields. One look at these dangerous looking men in jet black
military garb was enough to convince them that their little oil war would best
be conducted some other day. They melted away, and Lieutenant Ryan was able to
pull out good number of Chevron workers and get them safely back to Buzachi.
They were shutting down. The place was just too dangerous now to contemplate
any further operations. There had already been a brief air duel between Russian
fighter
but we’re prepared to fight to the death until we get it.”
“Is
Fairchild Irish? I thought she was proper British.”
“That
she is, but there’s a wee bit of good Irish honey in her blood, and those lips have
kissed the blarney stone, eh? Why else would she plant the company flag on the
Isle of Man, right smack in the Irish Sea?”
“Missing
Bradytown, are you?”
“Aye,
we’re a long way from home out here, Tommy. Now we get this new mission and something
tells me a good many of us may not ever get home again.”
Wicks
thought that one over, his eyes drifting to one of the rifle squads resting in the
open hanger across the way. “What is it we’re supposed to do, exactly?”
“There’s
a Russian base on the other side of that big lake out there.”
“Lake?
You mean the Caspian Sea?”
“Right-O.
Well, we’re paying them a visit, if you know what I mean. Mack Morgan thinks they’re
ready to run some kind of Spetsnaz operation from an anchorage just off shore.
They want us to crash the party.”
“Lord
almighty! What are we up against?”
“Not
much off shore. Just a big floating power plant, but the Russians seem to be using
it as a staging base for some pending operation. They want us to shoot the damn
thing up before they get it underway.”
“Where
is the place?”
“About
15 klicks off the coast near that naval base at Kaspiysk. I make it about 350 kilometers
from here.”
“That
sounds like a run and gun mission, Lieutenant. We taking the Argonauts?”
“Well
we’ve got to get them home some way, right? But you’re right, we won’t much need
them on a mission like this. My plan is to get them down to Baku—that’s a 500
kilometer run, so we’ll need to refuel there again at the BP facility. Then we
run up the coast, go in fast and low, paint the target, and let the missiles do
the rest. We can pick the Argonauts up on the way back.”
“If
we make it back,” said Wicks with a shrug. “We’re packing Hydra-70s in the rocket
pods. Their effective range is 8,000 meters, and they’re unguided, so we’ll
have to be pretty damn close. You think the Russians might know we’re coming?
They’ll sure as hell have radar and SAM batteries at that naval base. We’ve got
a fairly small radar cross section, but they’ll see us in time.”
“Aye,
and they won’t be happy when they do. Things are getting pretty dicey now.
Russians beefed up the 414th Naval Infantry at Kaspiysk. There’s a motorized
column from their 58th Army heading for Makhachkala. Could be trouble, and
Morgan thinks they mean to make a move on Baku, and grab the Kashagan
superfields up here while they’re at it.”
“What’s
this world coming to, Lieutenant?”
“No
good,” said Ryan. “Well, the birds are all fueled and ready to go. Let’s get the
Argonauts loaded and get on with it.”
“What
about those Chevron people?”
“What,
Flack and the rest? They come too, at least as far as, Baku. The birds will be heavy
but we’ll lift them easily enough. That will take more fuel, which is why we
top off at Baku again after we get back. It’ll be another thousand kilometer run
back to Argos in the Black Sea. So take a good look at the Caspian while
we’re here, Tommy. And I hope to God we never see the damn place again.”
Ryan
turned to the open hanger and gave a loud whistle, waving at the men there. The
Argonauts had done what they came for. It was no problem scaring off the local militias
near the oil fields. One look at these dangerous looking men in jet black
military garb was enough to convince them that their little oil war would best
be conducted some other day. They melted away, and Lieutenant Ryan was able to
pull out good number of Chevron workers and get them safely back to Buzachi.
They were shutting down. The place was just too dangerous now to contemplate
any further operations. There had already been a brief air duel between Russian
fighter
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