The Lucifer Crusade (39 page)

In the course of two minutes, Hunter saw three more of his jets go down-whether by Hind air-to-air missiles or AA fire from the battleships, he never knew. Now he too felt as if he had tripped into the jaws of Hell.

Then he saw that even the evacuation was in jeopardy. Two of the battleships had been disabled by the fighters, but two were relatively healthy and were now steaming right toward the carrier. The huge guns began to open up on the flattop, one-ton projectiles splashing nearer and nearer to the carrier.

Between the battleships and the Legion troops pouring up the eastern shoreline, Hunter knew a "strategic withdrawal" was close to impossible.

That's when he looked up and saw Lucifer's face in the sky . . .

"Flight Commander, this is Eagle Strike Force Command aircraft, come in please."

"Go ahead, Eagle," Captain Crunch O'Malley answered, turning up the volume slightly on his F-4's radio intercom.

"Flight, we have indications of aircraft at Two-Delta-Tango, your south heading zero-three-seven," the voice from the KC-135 AWACs ship replied. "This puts some kind of activity in the vicinity of Ismailia, right on the Canal itself. Over."

"I copy, Eagle Leader," Crunch said, checking his position. They were now just over the deserted city of Cairo, the local pyramids casting strange shadows in the early afternoon sun. "Have you got a report on the situation at Alexandria yet?"

Crunch was at the head of a nine-aircraft convoy-three F-20s were directly behind him, as well as four C-130 gunships and KC-135 in flight tanker that was doubling as an AWACs plane. The airplanes, all belonging to the Pacific American Air Corps or their allies, were the force that General Jones had promised him when he had radioed the US less than a week earlier to report that Hunter might need help.

The Eagle Strike Force had set down on Majorca the day before. The crews had rested briefly, refueled, and took off early the next morning. Their destination: the Suez Canal.

It was an interesting flight. Shortly after taking off from Majorca, the members of the Eagle Strike Force passed over the devastated floating platform near the island of Panatella. They could only guess what had happened there, until they put down for a refueling stop on Malta. There, a man named Baldi told them how Hunter and the others had destroyed

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the flying-boat base and defeated the Sidra-Benghazi Gang.

Soon afterwards, they passed over the scene of another battle, this one located around a group of oil platforms south of Crete. Every platform was either destroyed or burning, and the sea around it was littered with dozens of burning and sinking ships. Though he couldn't be sure, Crunch was certain that Hunter had something to do with this battle also.

Then, an hour later, they had passed over the. enormous convoy of The Modern Knights ... /

While Crunch and Elvis were on Majorca waiting for the American airplanes to arrive, they had learned that the huge Modern Knights' convoy had departed Portugal several days before and was enroute to the Canal zone.

The Strike Force finally caught up to the convoy just off the coast of Egypt.

Through the sophisticated communications setup on the KC-135, Crunch had talked to the convoy commander and learned that Hunter and the Saratoga force had somehow made it to the Canal and were engaging the enemy halfway down the Suez.

While the Knights were still at least a day away from the war zone (and they had told Crunch they were actually ahead of their original timetable), they had suggested that the American aircraft immediately go into mid-Canal. It was a suggestion the Americans would have taken anyway. Though Crunch and the others weren't 100 percent up on the reasons or the purposes of the anti-Lucifer crusade, they did know their friend Hawk Hunter was caught up in the middle of it. His enemy was their enemy.

"Concerning the Alexandria situation," the radio operator in the KC-135

continued. "Our best guess is

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that those subs were sunk by mines. We have not seen or heard any opposing aircraft or surface ships in the area. Over."

"Well, that's a strange one," Crunch radioed back to Elvis, in the rear seat of the F-4. The Strike Force had just flown over the area and witnessed yet another curious sight. "A bunch of Russian subs, floating on the surface like a bunch of dead mackerel."

"And no one fired a shot at them?" Elvis asked.

"That's what the eavesdrop boys say in the AWACs," Crunch replied. "No opposing craft anywhere near them. I mean, they could have done a number on that carrier. And they would have wreaked havoc on the Modern Knights convoy.

But it's like the Russians ran into their own minefield, as crazy as that sounds."

"Well," Elvis said, "whenever I hear anything crazy nowadays, I also just assume that Hunter was behind it."

Crunch rechecked his position, then radioed back to the Strike Force Command ship. "Command, I suggest we turn to that Two-Delta lango, zero-three-seven heading and check out that action near Ismailia," he said. "It may involve Major Hunter."

"We copy, Flight Leader," the reply came back. Within seconds the nine-plane force was turning south.

"Whether you know it or not, Hawk," Crunch said, "help is on the way."

The huge, grinning face of Lucifer hovered over the battle area like a cruel vision from Hell.

The resurgent Legion ground troops were swarming all over the eastern side of the canal, the Norwe-392

gian frigates blasting away at them. The carrier was desperately trying to reverse its engines to back out of the area, but the battleships had now found the range and their enormous shells were hitting all over the big ship. The ship was so battered, it was impossible for any aircraft to land or take off from the carrier now.

On the western side of the canal, the Aussies and Gurkhas were already moving the evacuated soldiers and noncombatants toward the north. However, they knew it was a matter of time before the enemy troops would cross the waterway and pursue thenv What was worse, some of the gunners on the battleships were firing on the smaller boats that were taking the last of Yaz's sailors from the carrier.

There were only six fighters left now, and the others either shot down or crash-landed due to lack of fuel. The remaining airplanes-the F-16, three Harriers, and two Tornados - were continually bombing the battleships and the Legion troops. But the intensity could only last for another five minutes or so. Then the surviving jets would also fall victim to low fuel.

And above it all, Lucifer's obscene image laughed, as if the soldiers fighting and dying below were his playthings.

It only took Hunter a few seconds to finally figure out the trick behind Lucifer's illusion. High above the battle area, Hunter saw that Lucifier's black P-3 Orion airplane was circling directly above the face in the sky.

Hunter deducted that a video image was being beamed up to the P-3, which in turn was projecting a laser image of Lucifer's face. He had seen similar laser-video displays before. Such projections could be beamed hundreds of miles away. Thus, Lucifer was able to project his ugliness 393

over Crete while sitting comfortably in his Arabian Kingdom. And this one was red, like the projections on previous nights.

But in Lucifer's arrogance, he was unintentionally tipping his hand. By lining up the P-3 and the image, Hunter determined the source of the original video image was now coming from one of the battleships.

At last, he had found Lucifer . . .

He put the F-16 into a screaming climb, heading right towards the holographic laser image of his nemesis. As the face got bigger, Hunter felt the fire of hate he had for all things Lucifer boil up inside him. This was Death incarnate. All that was evil with the world was embodied in that sneering, devilish face. If it was the last thing he ever did, he vowed to smash it ...

He streaked right through the image and lined up the P-3 flying 10,000 feet above it. Whether the pilots of the Orion knew he was coming or not, the airplane didn't try to escape. Hunter knew it meant only one thing: Lucifer had ordered them to hold their position no matter what.

Hunter armed a Sidewinder and let it fly. It caught the four-engine propeller plane on its right wing, knocking out its outboard engine. But the damage was not instantly fatal to the laser plane. Hunter wanted more. He let another Sidewinder loose and this one impacted right on the aircraft's midsection, blowing it to pieces.

Just as the missile hit, Hunter turned over quickly and saw the image of Lucifer blink once and fade away . . .

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The Saratoga was being rocked by the deadly accurate fire from the two battleships now just a half-mile away. The remaining principal officers - Sir Neil, Heath, Yaz, and O'Brien -were hurrying the others aboard to lifeboats at the rear of the big ship. The American sailors and Spanish Rocketeers were the most difficult groups to convince to go. But with every shell that hit the flattop, the argument for leaving the carrier grew.

Heath, bandages and all, was running back to the bridge when he heard a strange sound behind him. He spinned to find that, unbelievably, the F-16 was coming in for a landing.

"What the hell is that crazy Yank doing?" Heath thought.

The F-16 screamed in, caught the arresting wire, and screeched to a halt.

Heath ran over to the jet just as another barrage from the battleships struck the forecastle.

"Hunter, are you daft, man?" Heath screamed up at him. "Get the hell out of here!"

"I can't let you guys go down with the ship!"

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Hunter yelled back to him. "Tell them to pull the S-3A up here. We can jam at least seven of us into it!"

"Impossible, Hunter," Heath said, ducking from another explosion. "The elevator took a hit five minutes ago. It's gone, ruined. Plus we've got fires below. All the airplanes down there are destroyed."

"Well, what the hell are you guys still doing here?" Hunter yelled back to him. "Get your asses in a lifeboat!"

"No . . ." Heath called back. "I must stay here with Sir Neil. He's too banged up to move . ..."

"You frigging British!" Hunter finally yelled at him. "Will you knock off this crap about going down with the ship! This isn't a goddamn movie!"

Suddenly four huge shells hit the Saratoga in succession, two on the conning tower, two on the hull. Hunter felt the flattop rock back and forth. The deck was filled with fire and smoke. Suddenly Yaz ran out of nowhere and was climbing the F-16's access steps. He was carrying two items.

"Not you too?" Hunter yelled at him. "Just because these crazy Brits are willing to go down fighting, doesn't mean you have to!"

"Don't worry about me," Yaz said. "Just take these with you and get out of here!"

He dumped two bundles into Hunter's lap and was gone, disappearing into the smoke. Not Heath nor anyone else was in sight.

Hunter looked at the two bundles. One was a bunch of videotapes, strapped together with a piece of wire. They had to be the BBC videos. The other bundle was the huge Stars and Stripes that Hunter knew belonged to Yaz's unit. It was the flag he first saw flying over their camp back in Algiers.

But then, through the flames, he saw a helicopter

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rising from the second battleship. It was white and gold and he knew immediately that it was Lucifer's personal chopper.

He had to go after it.

He didn't have time to look around for someone to hook him up to the burning carrier's catapult. He doubted it was working anyway. Instead he revved up the F-16's powerful engine, while keeping his brakes locked on. He watched the RPM

build up and, at the right moment, he popped the brakes. The F-16 burnt up a cloud of smoky rubber for two seconds, then instantly screeched forward.

Hunter hit the throttle at full power and yanked back on the side-stick controller. The airplane roared off the carrier, then dipped as its speed was nowhere near that needed for unassisted takeoff. But Hunter coolly kicked in the afterburner, and the engine responded with a burst of flame and power.

Soon he was climbing.

Just as the fighter cleared the deck, a barrage of six shells struck the ship square on the flight deck. Two of the high-explosive shots blew out a pair of huge holes in the deck. Four of the shells crashed on through to the below-decks, exploding there. It was the death blow for the flattop.

Ammunition left over in the hangar area blew up, causing a raging fire to roar through to the reactor room. Another incredible explosion followed, nearly lifting the mighty ship clear out of water. It settled back down into the thirty-foot depth of the Canal, and continued to explode.

Hunter looked over his shoulder and saw the carrier going through its death throes. He still couldn't believe it was happening; the carrier they had all worked so hard to bring to the Canal was now in the process of blowing itself up. And Sir

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Neil. Heath. O'Brien. Probably Yaz. All gone . . .

There were still some Hinds in the area, many of them mercilessly firing on the carrier evacuees. Now the battleships, seeing the Saratoga had received enough punishment, also started hammering away at the western shoreline.

Hunter didn't want Lucifer's chopper to get away, but neither could he leave the helpless carrier survivors at the mercy of the Hinds and the battleships.

As if to underscore his point, he saw three Hinds swooping in on the beach where the carrier survivors were and start to strafe them.

Suddenly he felt a ringing start in his brain.

More aircraft. Nearby. Heading this way.

He dove toward the Hinds, blasted one from the air with his cannon Six Pack, then sheared the main rotor off another one. But just as he was about to open fire on a third, it seemed to explode on its own.

"What the . . .?" Hunter then spun around and saw that there was a very familiar F-4 flying right above him.

"Hey, Hawk!" He heard Crunch's voice come over his radio set. "Where you been?

We've been all over the goddamn Med looking for you!"

"Crunch!" Hunter called back. "I should have heard that Phantom coming a hundred miles away!"