cc.floodtide-第38章

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　Captain　Yu　Tien　of　the　Chengdo；　normally　a　cautious　man；　fell　for　the　sleight　of　hand　as　he　peered　through　binoculars　at　the　seemingly　innocent　old　ship；　observing　his　marines　board　without　the　slightest　show　of　resistance。　He　watched　as　the　green；　white　and　red　Iranian　national　flag　was　lowered　and　replaced　with　the　red　ensign　of　the　People's　Republic　of　China；　with　its　five　gold　stars。　Then　suddenly　Captain　Yu　Tien　was　paralyzed　in　disbelieving　shock。　One　minute　his　seemingly　invincible　ship　was　calmly　overhauling　what　appeared　to　be　a　rusty　old　tramp　steamer；　the　next　the　helpless　tramp　had　inflicted　a　horrifying　amount　of　damage　to　his　vessel　with　sophisticated　precision。　Struck　by　missiles；　torpedoes　and　a　hail　of　small…weapons　fire　almost　simultaneously；　his　ship　was　instantaneously　mortally　wounded。　He　thought　it　outrageous　that　such　an　innocent　mercial　vessel　could　possess　so　much　ftrepower。
　
　Yu　Tien　stiffened　as　he　saw　death　and　dishonor　creeping　out　of　the　ventilators；　hatches　and　panionways　leading　down　to　the　bowels　of　his　ship。　What　began　as　white　puffs　and　orange　flickers　quickly　became　a　torrent　of　red　fire　and　black　smoke　from　the　shambles　that　had　been　an　engine　room　but　had　now　bee　a　crematory　of　helpless　men。
　
　〃Fire！〃　he　cried　out。　〃Destroy　those　deceiving　dogs！〃
　〃Reload！〃　Cabrillo　yelled　through　the　munications　system。　〃Hurry　and　reload…〃
　His　orders　were　interrupted　by　a　tremendous　roar　followed　by　concussions　reverberating　all　around　him。　The　big　guns　on　the　destroyer's　undamaged　forward　turret　belched　a　torrent　of　fire　as　it　sent　its　shells　screaming　toward　the　Oregon。
　
　The　first　shrieked　between　the　loading　cranes　and　burst　against　the　base　of　the　aft　mast；　sheering　it　clean　and　sending　it　crashing　over　the　cargo　deck　while　hurling　a　fiery　core　of　white…hot　fragments　and　debris　in　every　direction；　causing　several　small　fires　but　little　serious　damage。　With　a　convulsive　explosion；　the　second　shell　slammed　into　the　fantail　on　the　Oregon's　stern　and　tore　it　away；　leaving　a　gaping　hole　above　the　rudderpost。　The　destruction　was　severe　but　not　catastrophic。　Cabrillo　involuntarily　ducked　as　a　storm　of　thirty…seven…millimeter　shells　from　the　Chengdo's　lighter　gun　mounts　began　raking　the　Oregon　from　forecastle　to　shattered　stern。　Almost　immediately　he　was　hailed　by　Ross；　who　was　also　manning　the　ship's　fire…control　systems。
　
　〃Sir；　the　Chinese　light　guns　have　knocked　out　the　missile　launcher's　firing　mechanisms。　I　hate　to　be　the　bearer　of　sad　tidings；　but　our　one…two　punch　is　history。〃　〃What　about　the　torpedoes？〃　〃Three　more　minutes　before　they're　ready　for　firing。〃　〃Tell　the　men　loading　the　tubes　to　do　it　in　one！〃　〃Hanley！〃　Cabrillo　shouted　through　the　speakerphone　to　the　engine　room。
　〃I'm　here；　Juan；〃　Hanley　answered　with　quiet　calmness。　〃Any　damage　to　your　engines？〃
　〃A　few　pipes　have　sprung　leaks。　Nothing　we　can't　handle。〃　〃Give　me　full　speed；　every　knot　you　can　coax　out　of　your　engines。　We've　got　to　get　the　hell　out　of　here　before　the　destroyer　rips　us　apart。〃　〃You　got　it。〃
　
　It　was　then　Cabrillo　realized　his　Oerlikons　had　gone　silent。　He　stood　still　and　stared　at　the　twin　guns　sitting　dead　in　the　center　of　a　large　wooden　shipping　crate　with　its　four　walls　peeled　out。　The　barrels　pointed　impotently　at　the　destroyer　as　if　neglected；　their　automated　electronic　controls　severed　by　thirty…seven…millimeter　shells。　He　knew　with　sick　certainty　that　without　its　covering　fire；　their　chances　for　survival　were　rapidly　going　down　the　drain。　Too　late　did　he　feel　the　Oregon's　stern　dip　and　her　bow　raise　as　Hanley's　big　engines　kicked　the　ship　forward。　For　the　first　time　he　felt　fear　and　hopelessness　as　he　stared　down　the　twin　throats　of　the　destroyer's　one…hundred…millimeter　guns；　waiting　for　them　to　destroy　his　dedicated　crew　and　ship。
　
　Having　momentarily　forgotten　the　fight　raging　on　the　deck　in　the　midst　of　the　destruction；　he　blinked　and　glanced　downward。　Bloodied　bodies　were　heaped　and　scattered　like　a　truckload　of　human　refuse　dumped　in　the　street。　He　stared　with　bile　welling　up　in　his　throat。　The　appalling　carnage　had　taken　less　than　two　minutes；　a　gory　rampage　that　had　left　no　man　still　alive　uninjured。　Or　so　he　thought。
　
　Then；　like　the　flicker　of　a　camera　shutter；　he　saw　a　figure　sway　to　his　feet　and　begin　staggering　drunkenly　across　the　deck　toward　the　Oerlikons。
　
　Although　protected　by　the　body　armor　around　their　torsos；　James　and　Meadows　were　both　down　with　wounds　in　the　legs。　Seng　had　taken　two　bullets　through　his　right　arm。　Sitting　with　his　back　against　the　railing；　he　tore　off　a　shirtsleeve；　wadded　it　up　and　calmly　pressed　it　against　his　wounds　to　stem　the　flow　of　blood。　Giordino　lay　beside　him；　barely　conscious。　One　of　the　Chinese　marines　had　clubbed　him　on　the　top　of　his　head　with　the　butt　of　an　automatic　rifle　in　almost　the　same　instant　as　Giordino　had　savagely　sunk　his　fist　into　his　opponent's　stomach　nearly　to　the　vertebra。　Both　men　had　toppled　to　the　deck　together；　the　marine　withering　in　pain　and　gasping　for　air；　Giordino　knocked　nearly　senseless。
　
　Pitt；　seeing　that　his　friend　was　not　seriously　wounded；　threw　off　the　coat　with　the　mannequin　arms　and　struggled　painfully　toward　the　silent　Oerlikons；　muttering　to　himself。　〃Twice。　Would　you　believe　it。　Twice　in　the　same　place。〃　He　held　one　hand　over　the　entry　wound　only　an　inch　above　the　still…bandaged　hole　in　his　hip　where　he'd　taken　a　bullet　at　Orion　Lake。　The　other　hand　gripped　a　Chinese　machine　pistol　he'd　snatched　off　a　dead　marine。
　
　From　his　vantage　point　on　the　bridge　wing；　Cabrillo　stood　rooted　in　awe　of　the　unbelievable　sight　of　Pitt　contemptuously　brushing　aside　the　air　filled　with　the　maddening　clatter　of　the　Chengdo's　storm　of　thirty…seven…millimeter　shells　that　scythed　across　the　Oregon's　cargo　deck。　The　fire　splattered　all　around　him　like　rain；　chewing　up　the　wooden　crates　stacked　on　the　deck。　He　heard　them　shriek　past　his　head　and　felt　their　demented　breeze　as　they　passed　within　inches　of　his　face　and　neck。　Miraculously；　none　struck　him　during　his　harrowing　journey　to　the　Oerlikons。
　
　Pitt's　face　was　not　pleasant　to　see。　To　Cabrillo　it　seemed　like　a　mask　of　unholy　rage；　the　vivid　green　eyes　burning　with　furious　determination。　It　was　a　face　Cabrillo　would　never　forget。　He　had　never　seen　a　man　with　such　a　sardonic　contempt　for　death。
　
　At　last；　after　achieving　what　seemed　the　impossible；　Pitt　lifted　the　machine　pistol　and　shot　away　the　shredded　remnants　of　the　cable　leading　to　the　fire…control　room；　giving　the　twin　barrels　freedom　of　movement。　Then　he　moved　behind　the　twin　guns　and　took　manual　control；　his　right　hand　clutching　the　trigger　grip；　which　had　been　installed　but　never　operated。　It　was　as　if　the　old　Oregon　had　e　to　life　again；　like　a　badly　battered　fighter　who　rose　from　the　canvas　at　the　count　of　nine　and　began　punching。　His　aim　was　not　what　Cabrillo　expected。　Instead　of　spraying　the　Chengdo's　bridge　and　thirty…seven…millimeter…gun　mounts；　Pitt　unleashed　the　Oerlikons'　bined　1；400…round…per…minute　firepower　against　the　turret；　whose　hundred…millimeter　guns　were　aimed　at　and　about　to　devastate　the　freighter。
　
　Though　it　seemed　like　a　useless；　defiant　gesture…the　hurricane　of　small　shells　merely　splattered　and　ricocheted　off　the　heavily　armored　turret…Cabrillo　realized　what　Pitt　was　attempting　to　do。　Stark　madness；　he　thought；　sheer；　unfettered　madness　to　attempt　the　impossible。　Even　with　a　solid　support　to　rest　the　barrel　of　his　rifle；　only　a　superb　marksman　could　have　put　a　bullet　down　the　barrel　of　any　one　of　the　turret's　gun　muzzles　from　a　ship　rising　and　falling　on　the　ocean　swells。　But　Cabrillo　overlooked　the　awesome　firepower　of　the　Oerlikons　at　Pitt's　mand；　not　realizing　the　law　of　averages　was　on　his　side。　Three　shells；　one　directly　behind　the　other；　entered　the　muzzle　of　the　center　gun　and　swept　down　its　barrel；　impacting　with　the　shell　that　had　been　freshly　loaded　in　the　breech　and　detonating　its　warhead　at　almost　the　same　instant　it　was　fired。
　
　In　a　moment　stolen　from　hell；　the　big　one…hundred…millimeter　shell　burst；　causing　a　sympathetic　explosion　inside　that　peeled　the　turret　open　like　a　tin　can　covering　a　Fourth　of　July　cherry　bomb；　instantly　turning　it　into　a　shambles　of　jagged　steel。　Then；　as　if　on　cue；　the　Oregon's　last　two　torpedoes　smashed　into　the　Chengdo's　hull；　one　of　them　miraculously　entering　through　a　previous　hole　made　by　one　of　its　predecessors。　The　destroyer　shuddered　as　a　great　thunderous　roar　exploded　in　her　bowels；　lifting　her　hull　nearly　clear　of　the　water。　A　blossoming　ball　of　fire　bloomed　around　her；　and　then；　like　a　great；　mortally　wounded　animal；　she　shuddered　and　died。　Three　minutes　later　she　was　gone　amid　a　great　hissing　sound　and　column　of　black　smoke　that　spiraled　upward　and　merged　with　the　night　sky；　hiding　the　stars。
　
　The　shock　wave　swept　against　the　Oregon；　and　the　following　tidal　surge　from　the　sinking　destroyer　rocked　her　as　if　she　was　landlocked　in　an　earthquake。　On　the　bridge；　Cabrillo　had　not　seen　the　final　death　throes　of　the　Chengdo。　Only　seconds　before　Pitt's　shrewdly　directed　fire　turned　her　into　a　smoldering　wreck；　the　destroyer's　light　guns　had　converged　their　fire　on　the　bridge；　pounding　it　into　a　shower　of　debris　and　shattered　glass；　as　if　struck　by　a　thousand　sledgehammers。　Cabrillo　felt　the　air　tear　apart　around　him　in　a　concert　of　explosions。　His　arms　flailed　at　the　air　as　he　was　struck　and　hurled　backward　from　the　bridge　into　the　wheelhouse。　He　fell　to　the　deck；　closed　his　eyes　tightly　and　wrapped　his　arms　around　the　brass　binnacle　and　held　on。　A　shell　had　smashed　through　his　right　leg　below　the　knee；　but　Cabrillo　experienced　no　pain。　And　then　he　heard　a　tremendous　eruption　and　felt　a　rush　of　air；　followed　by　an　almost　eerie　silence。
　
　On　the　deck　below；　Pitt　released　the　trigger　grip　and　retraced　his　steps　through　the　wreckage　littering　the　cargo　deck。　He　reached　Giordino　and　helped　him　upright。　Giordino　put　his　arm　around　Pitt's　waist　to　steady　himself；　and　then　withdrew　it；　staring　at　a　hand　stained　with　red。　〃It　appears　to　me　that　you've　developed　a　leak。〃
　
　Pitt　gave　him　a　tight　grin。　〃I　must　remember　to　stick　my　finger　in　it。〃
　
　Assured　Pitt's　wound　was　not　serious；　Giordino　gestured　at　Seng　and　the　others　and　said；　〃These　guys　are　seriously　injured。　We　must　help　them。〃
　
　〃Do　what　you　can　to　make　them　fortable　until　the　ship's　surgeon　can　tend　to　them；〃　Pitt　said　as　he　looked　up　at　the　ruins　of　what　had　been　the　bridge；　now　a　tangled　mass　of　debris。　〃If　Cabrillo　is　still　alive　I　should　try　to　help　him。〃
　
　The　ladder　to　the　bridge　wing　from　the　cargo　deck　was　a　tangled　piece　of　scrap；　and　Pitt　had　to　scale　the　shell…riddled；　twisted　mass　of　steel　that　had　been　the　aft　superstructure　to　reach　the　wheelhouse。　The　shattered　interior　was　deadly　quiet。
　
　The　only　sounds　came　from　the　racing　beat　of　the　engines　and　the　rash　of　water　along　the　hull　as　the　badly　punished　ship　raced　from　the　scene　of　the　battle；　strangely　enhancing　the　eerie　silence。　Pitt　slowly　entered　Satan's　scrap　heap；　stepping　over　the　rabble。
　
　There　were　no　bodies　of　a　helmsman　or　first　officer　in　the　wheelhouse…all　fire…bat　systems　had　been　operated　from　the　control　center　under　the　foreca