Read Online The Lucifer Crusade by Mack Maloney - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Mack Maloney
Tags: Suspense
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crystal-clear. Where there had been hundreds of lines of wavy static before, now there was the sharp, neon-blue-and-white image of the snow-capped mountain range.
"Ah, yes, the Pyrenees," Sir Neil said happily by way of explanation. "Used to take the wife skiing there before the war. She's in Free Canada now, thank God."
Hunter couldn't help but think of Dominique; she too was in Free Canada.
The TV screen was beautifully registering the ground ten miles below, despite the poor weather. The image was so clear, it almost looked like it was 67
being shot by a television camera, not a ground-imaging radar.
"Great piece of equipment, this," Sir Neil said, fine-tuning the picture even more. "It's a LORAL TK-1Q imager."
"Next best thing to being there," Hunter agreed.
Slowly the image of the mountain faded and was replaced by the swaying lines of the ocean.
"We're over the Gulf of Lions now," Sir Neil said. "That's Marseilles up ahead."
The airplane bucked once, hard. The video screen protested with a brief burst of static, then returned a faithful picture of the southern coast of France.
Hunter turned to look over the heads of the Nim-rod's pilots and out the cockpit window. The rain was getting heavier, the air more turbulent. The pilots had the airplane's windshield wipers working overtime, and were taking turns wrestling with the controls in an effort to keep the airplane level.
"Here it comes!" Sir Neil called out, drawing Hunter's attention back to the screen. At the same time, the Nimrod's pilot called back to them. "Toulon is clear, Commander."
Hunter knew the pilot had just done a routine electronic-weapons sweep of the ground below and found no hostile SAMs waiting for them. Now, as Hunter studied the TV screen, he saw the outline of the once-famous French Riviera come into view.
An anxious jolt ran through him. The most important element of the Brits' plan to capture the Suez was soon to come into view below. The closer they got, the wilder the British plan was becoming to Hunter.
"Just a few seconds now," Sir Neil told him. "Just the other side of Nice and we'll see it . . ."
68
Sir Neil and his men were convinced the only way to seize control of the Canal was with air power. Warplanes were rarer items in the Med than in America.
Lucifer's Legions had very few, although the madman's allies in the area boasted some small but formidable air forces. These were mostly local air units, satisfied with their role as air terrorists in Lucifer's employ, doing occasional air pirating or freelance bombing jobs on the side.
On the other hand, the RAF, with its major air facility at Gibraltar and a few outposts like the Highway Base scattered throughout the Western Mediterranean, could muster as many as thirty aircraft, of varying types and quality. And unlike the air raiders, the Brits had a coordinated air-command system; their units frequently did training exercises together, with the entire command carrying out extensive maneuvers several times a year.
The trouble was the British air power found itself confined to the western Med. The RAF airplanes rarely ranged much beyond the airspace west of Sardinia. There were no friendly air fields that would serve them if they did.
These days, going from west to east on the Med was like sailing up the proverbial River of Fools. The further one traveled, the more bizarre and unpredictable things became. All kinds of dangerous characters plied the waters of the central and eastern sea, as well as sometimes prowling the skies above it. Appropriately enough, the miscellaneous madness peaked right around the Suez Canal. And just 250 miles beyond that lay the outer reaches of Lucifer's evil empire.
Just as in America, where Hunter and democracies stopped a larger land army with a small but effective air force during The Circle War, the Brits 69
felt that if they could project their air superiority-quickly-to Suez, they could seize the canal and the air above it. Thus, the
"Ah, yes, the Pyrenees," Sir Neil said happily by way of explanation. "Used to take the wife skiing there before the war. She's in Free Canada now, thank God."
Hunter couldn't help but think of Dominique; she too was in Free Canada.
The TV screen was beautifully registering the ground ten miles below, despite the poor weather. The image was so clear, it almost looked like it was 67
being shot by a television camera, not a ground-imaging radar.
"Great piece of equipment, this," Sir Neil said, fine-tuning the picture even more. "It's a LORAL TK-1Q imager."
"Next best thing to being there," Hunter agreed.
Slowly the image of the mountain faded and was replaced by the swaying lines of the ocean.
"We're over the Gulf of Lions now," Sir Neil said. "That's Marseilles up ahead."
The airplane bucked once, hard. The video screen protested with a brief burst of static, then returned a faithful picture of the southern coast of France.
Hunter turned to look over the heads of the Nim-rod's pilots and out the cockpit window. The rain was getting heavier, the air more turbulent. The pilots had the airplane's windshield wipers working overtime, and were taking turns wrestling with the controls in an effort to keep the airplane level.
"Here it comes!" Sir Neil called out, drawing Hunter's attention back to the screen. At the same time, the Nimrod's pilot called back to them. "Toulon is clear, Commander."
Hunter knew the pilot had just done a routine electronic-weapons sweep of the ground below and found no hostile SAMs waiting for them. Now, as Hunter studied the TV screen, he saw the outline of the once-famous French Riviera come into view.
An anxious jolt ran through him. The most important element of the Brits' plan to capture the Suez was soon to come into view below. The closer they got, the wilder the British plan was becoming to Hunter.
"Just a few seconds now," Sir Neil told him. "Just the other side of Nice and we'll see it . . ."
68
Sir Neil and his men were convinced the only way to seize control of the Canal was with air power. Warplanes were rarer items in the Med than in America.
Lucifer's Legions had very few, although the madman's allies in the area boasted some small but formidable air forces. These were mostly local air units, satisfied with their role as air terrorists in Lucifer's employ, doing occasional air pirating or freelance bombing jobs on the side.
On the other hand, the RAF, with its major air facility at Gibraltar and a few outposts like the Highway Base scattered throughout the Western Mediterranean, could muster as many as thirty aircraft, of varying types and quality. And unlike the air raiders, the Brits had a coordinated air-command system; their units frequently did training exercises together, with the entire command carrying out extensive maneuvers several times a year.
The trouble was the British air power found itself confined to the western Med. The RAF airplanes rarely ranged much beyond the airspace west of Sardinia. There were no friendly air fields that would serve them if they did.
These days, going from west to east on the Med was like sailing up the proverbial River of Fools. The further one traveled, the more bizarre and unpredictable things became. All kinds of dangerous characters plied the waters of the central and eastern sea, as well as sometimes prowling the skies above it. Appropriately enough, the miscellaneous madness peaked right around the Suez Canal. And just 250 miles beyond that lay the outer reaches of Lucifer's evil empire.
Just as in America, where Hunter and democracies stopped a larger land army with a small but effective air force during The Circle War, the Brits 69
felt that if they could project their air superiority-quickly-to Suez, they could seize the canal and the air above it. Thus, the
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