Читать книгу Damage Control - Gordon Kent, Gordon Kent - Страница 21
USS Thomas Jefferson
Оглавление“Goblin’s not responding to the tower.”
“Fuck him.” Rafe couldn’t remember an exercise with such dicked-up comms. Was the guy really an asshole, or had someone put out the wrong freqs? Who knew?
“He’s less than a minute out and starting his pop.”
A pop-up was a typical terminal maneuver in most anti-ship missiles. The missile would climb sharply after it chose its target, then come down as nearly vertical into the deck of the target as possible. The Indian pilot was going for realism.
“He’s too fucking close,” from Air Ops.
The Jefferson was still turning, her aft anti-missile systems unmasked and “firing” for exercise purposes, but the rate of turn had slowed and Rafe felt the thunk of a plane launching, almost certainly the second F-18, headed south.
“Get him the fuck out of our airspace!” the same voice in Air Ops shouted.
Rafe glanced around, and something moved in his peripheral vision, and then the world exploded.
