Read Online Chopper Ops by Mack Maloney - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Mack Maloney
Tags: Fiction, Action & Adventure
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tandem. Is yours?"
Delaney replied, "Absolutely . . ."
"But the way I'm set up, it looks like I'm flying the pig and shooting the guns."
Delaney took a huge gulp of beer.
"Same here," he said. "I'm doing the driving and the shooting and the gunner is doing diddly."
"Weird . . ."
"Very weird . . ."
They finished their first beer in silence.
"You won't believe how fast they have my ship going," Delaney said finally. "That thing flies so freaking fast, it almost makes sense they have a fighter jock at the wheel. I guess that's why we're here."
"Yeah, well, I get scared when something starts to make sense around here," Norton said.
Delaney coaxed the last few drops of beer from his can. Norton wiped his sweaty forehead once more.
The slightly cooling breeze blew off the water again. The beer was having its first effects on Norton. For a moment it actually seemed like they were just two guys, enjoying a hot afternoon, drinking beer, and fishing off the end of a huge boat.
If only . . . he mused.
Delaney reached into his cooler, took out two more beers, and handed one to Norton.
"Did you know Mutt and Jeff arrived yesterday?" he asked Norton.
"No kidding?"
"I heard they've been crybabying to Smitz ever since," Delaney said.
"They really don't want to be heroes, do they?"
"Can't blame them, I guess," Delaney answered. "I mean look where it got us .''
Norton bit his lip again. That was another thing troubling him. His decision to turn the CIA on to Gillis and Ricco had been preying on his mind.
At the time, it seemed like the right thing to do. The Spooks said this mission needed good air-to-air refueling guys, and when Norton was asked for the best, he gave them Gillis and Ricco.
But had he done the right thing? Or had he just been grandstanding? Caught up a little too much in the cloak-and-dagger excitement of those first few days. How could he justify involving the two tanker pilots in a mission he knew nothing about? What witches' brew had he gotten them into? With its reputation for screwing things up, could he really trust the CIA? Or any Spook, for that matter? Had he just been swept up in it because he wanted to be a hero? Because he wanted to do something more exciting than fly the Cobra at air shows?
He didn't know. And that was the problem. Gillis and Ricco weren't regular military; they were National Guard guys. Weekend warriors. They probably had wives and kids and homes, things he and Delaney did not. What if Gillis and Ricco got killed on this mission? What if by Norton's recommendation he'd brought Gillis and Ricco into something that would end up causing their wives to be widows and their kids to be fatherless?
He took another long sip of beer. Delaney was blabbing away about the weather or something, but Norton could not hear him. His ears were ringing too much. And his shoulders were suddenly feeling very heavy.
These disturbing thoughts were eventually knocked away by a sharp jab to his rib cage, courtesy of Delaney. The pilot was indicating that Norton should look at something off to their left. Norton did, and immediately saw what Delaney had spotted.
It was a group of Marines, about twenty of them, or one quarter of the complement known to be on the island. They were crawling through a grove of palm trees about fifty feet away from the yacht. The Marines were dressed in heavy combat gear and carrying enormous weapons. They were almost invisible.
Norton had seen the Marines training several times since arriving on the island, in those first hours before his marathon sessions in the Can had commenced in earnest. Each time, the Marines were in the process of surrounding and attacking Motel Six, which was the name given to the island's first motel-like structure. (The second motel-like structure, the one where many billets were located, had been named "Motel Hell.") Now it appeared the Marines were preparing to attack the structure once again.
Norton and Delaney watched with bemused
Delaney replied, "Absolutely . . ."
"But the way I'm set up, it looks like I'm flying the pig and shooting the guns."
Delaney took a huge gulp of beer.
"Same here," he said. "I'm doing the driving and the shooting and the gunner is doing diddly."
"Weird . . ."
"Very weird . . ."
They finished their first beer in silence.
"You won't believe how fast they have my ship going," Delaney said finally. "That thing flies so freaking fast, it almost makes sense they have a fighter jock at the wheel. I guess that's why we're here."
"Yeah, well, I get scared when something starts to make sense around here," Norton said.
Delaney coaxed the last few drops of beer from his can. Norton wiped his sweaty forehead once more.
The slightly cooling breeze blew off the water again. The beer was having its first effects on Norton. For a moment it actually seemed like they were just two guys, enjoying a hot afternoon, drinking beer, and fishing off the end of a huge boat.
If only . . . he mused.
Delaney reached into his cooler, took out two more beers, and handed one to Norton.
"Did you know Mutt and Jeff arrived yesterday?" he asked Norton.
"No kidding?"
"I heard they've been crybabying to Smitz ever since," Delaney said.
"They really don't want to be heroes, do they?"
"Can't blame them, I guess," Delaney answered. "I mean look where it got us .''
Norton bit his lip again. That was another thing troubling him. His decision to turn the CIA on to Gillis and Ricco had been preying on his mind.
At the time, it seemed like the right thing to do. The Spooks said this mission needed good air-to-air refueling guys, and when Norton was asked for the best, he gave them Gillis and Ricco.
But had he done the right thing? Or had he just been grandstanding? Caught up a little too much in the cloak-and-dagger excitement of those first few days. How could he justify involving the two tanker pilots in a mission he knew nothing about? What witches' brew had he gotten them into? With its reputation for screwing things up, could he really trust the CIA? Or any Spook, for that matter? Had he just been swept up in it because he wanted to be a hero? Because he wanted to do something more exciting than fly the Cobra at air shows?
He didn't know. And that was the problem. Gillis and Ricco weren't regular military; they were National Guard guys. Weekend warriors. They probably had wives and kids and homes, things he and Delaney did not. What if Gillis and Ricco got killed on this mission? What if by Norton's recommendation he'd brought Gillis and Ricco into something that would end up causing their wives to be widows and their kids to be fatherless?
He took another long sip of beer. Delaney was blabbing away about the weather or something, but Norton could not hear him. His ears were ringing too much. And his shoulders were suddenly feeling very heavy.
These disturbing thoughts were eventually knocked away by a sharp jab to his rib cage, courtesy of Delaney. The pilot was indicating that Norton should look at something off to their left. Norton did, and immediately saw what Delaney had spotted.
It was a group of Marines, about twenty of them, or one quarter of the complement known to be on the island. They were crawling through a grove of palm trees about fifty feet away from the yacht. The Marines were dressed in heavy combat gear and carrying enormous weapons. They were almost invisible.
Norton had seen the Marines training several times since arriving on the island, in those first hours before his marathon sessions in the Can had commenced in earnest. Each time, the Marines were in the process of surrounding and attacking Motel Six, which was the name given to the island's first motel-like structure. (The second motel-like structure, the one where many billets were located, had been named "Motel Hell.") Now it appeared the Marines were preparing to attack the structure once again.
Norton and Delaney watched with bemused
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