Читать книгу End Game - Dale Brown - Страница 16

The smoke from Port Somalia rose like an overgrown cauliflower from the ocean, furling upward and outward. It was so thick Starship couldn’t see Port Somalia itself.

If the aircraft they’d seen earlier had deposited saboteurs – not a proven fact, but a very good guess – it was likely that the planes would be returning to pick up the men. The Abner Read had activated its radar to look for them.

Starship’s job was twofold. First, scout the water and see if he could find any trace of the saboteurs. Second, check the nearby shore, which was the second most likely escape route. And he’d have to do all that in about ten minutes, or he’d risk running out of fuel before getting back to the ship.

He saw the Indian corvette to his right as he approached the outer edge of the smoke. The ship looked like an upsized cabin cruiser, with a globelike radar dome at the top. Designed for a Russian Bandstand surface targeting radar, the large dome held a less potent Indian design. But it was the small dish radar behind the dome that got Starship’s attention – the Korund antiaircraft unit extended its sticky fingers toward the Werewolf, marking a big red X on it for the ship’s SS-4 antiaircraft missiles.

‘Werewolf One being targeted by Indian vessel,’ Starship reported to Tac. He hit the fuzz buster and tucked the little helicopter toward the waves, weaving quickly to shake the radar’s grip. ‘Hey, tell these guys I’m on their side.’

‘We’re working on it, Werewolf One. They’re having a little trouble identifying targets.’

‘Duh. Tell them I’m not a target.’

‘We’re working it out. Stay out of their range.’

‘It’s ten kilometers,’ protested Starship.

‘Head toward the shore and look for the raiding party. We’ll let the Indians look at the water.’

‘Yeah, roger that,’ he said, jamming his throttle to max power.