By this time, the pursuing Sardinians had arrived on the dock just as the fuel tanks he’d set ablaze blew up. The dock area was suddenly awash with flame. That put an end to the enemy fire.
“Now all I’ve got to do is figure out how to sail this thing,” he said to himself.
As it turned out, he wouldn’t have to. The wounded pilot, a Norwegian named Olaaf, hobbled to the center of the bridge and volunteered to steer the ship.
“I used to be a skipper,” he told Hunter. “This is all automatic anyway. May I?”
Hunter gladly stepped aside and let the Norseman take over. Soon they were sailing quickly out of the harbor, Olaaf having gotten the main engine to work.
Hunter checked Sir Neil. He was stable but still in bad shape. He leaned over and said in the man’s ear, “Don’t worry, sir, we’re out now. We’re heading back to the Saratoga.”
He thought he saw the slightest look of acknowledgment on the Englishman’s face.
Just then one of the rocketeers came forward and indicated to Hunter that he should follow him.
“Big, sir,” the Spaniard kept saying. “Big. What we need.”
Hunter followed him into the hold of the ship and flicked on the lights.
“Jesus H. Christ,” he said, stunned.
Inside the hold were at least a hundred crates marked “SIDEWINDERS.”
Chapter 22
The F-4 circled the Gibraltar air base five times before finally coming for a landing. Although the base’s landing lights, radar dishes, and other equipment were operating, Crunch had gotten no response to his repeated attempts to radio the control tower.
“I got a very bad feeling about this,” the pilot said as he rolled the airplane up to a hardstand. No ground personnel appeared to greet them, as would normally be the case at any airfield. “Did everyone take the day off?” he wondered.
“I can’t believe they all went off on this crusade,” Elvis said.
“Well, if they did,” Crunch said, looking around, “they left a lot of equipment on.”
Suddenly Elvis called out, “Christ! What the hell are those things?” Crunch turned to see Elvis pointing at something directly over them. The pilot looked up and saw a dozen or more huge birds lazily circling the base.
“Are they what I think they are?” Elvis asked.
“Jesus, I’m afraid so,” Crunch said, slowly. “Goddamned vultures.”
He rolled the ship around to the back of the hangar, and it was there they made a gruesome discovery. Not only were there several dozen bodies scattered about, there were also five or six dead vultures lying nearby.
At once Crunch and Elvis were both glad that they hadn’t popped the F-4’s canopy and removed their oxygen masks.
“These guys were gassed,” Crunch said. “We could probably find a SCUD missile casing around here somewhere if we looked hard enough. Painted with a big red star on its side, no doubt.”
“The gas killed the people, then the poison in the people’s blood killed the vultures,” Elvis said.
“That’s it,” Crunch replied, looking back up at the buzzards circling overhead. “And those guys up there are still trying to figure it out.”
Crunch rolled the F-4 closer to the bodies. They looked like base help as opposed to RAF personnel. He was sure that other groups of bodies in twos and threes could be found around the base. But then Elvis pointed out something.
“Captain, look at the bodies closest to us,” the Weapons Officer said. “Their pockets have been pulled out. Like they were searched or something.”
“Either that,” Crunch said, “or they got some pretty smart vultures in this part of the world.”
“Who the hell would want to go through the pockets of a bunch of stiffs like these?” Elvis asked. “Looters of some kind?”
“Either that or whoever greased this place was looking to kill one person in particular,” Crunch observed.
They were quiet for a moment, then Elvis asked, “Do you … do you think they were aiming to kill Hawk?”
Crunch had been thinking the exact same thing. “It would be difficult to say,” he answered. “But there is a possibility that’s exactly what happened.
“Remember, our boy has a billion-dollar price tag on his head. And I believe the Russians would gladly supply some wacko everything he needed to bump off our good buddy. Even SCUD missiles.
“Or they’d probably take on the job themselves. I don’t think the New Order boys would mind turning over a billion dollars to the gang in Moscow.”
“It’s probably their money to begin with,” Elvis said.
Crunch fired up the engine and rolled the F-4 toward the runway.
“I’ve seen enough,” he said to Elvis. “I think it’s time to call home and tell them what’s going on over here. Between some nutty crusade and the fact that every other weirdo in Europe is looking to bump him off, I think Mr. Hunter is going to need a little more help than just you and I can provide.”
Chapter 23
They were at sea for only an hour before they were met by two of the Norwegian frigates sailing off the northern end of Sardinia. The ship’s chopper was instantly used to evacuate Sir Neil back to the Saratoga, where two Italian doctors — members of the communications group — could attend to his serious wounds. Although Hunter and the Spanish rocketeers had been able to stem the bleeding from the Englishman’s wounds, Hunter knew the swaggering Brit would never be the same again.
The loss of Sir Neil was tempered somewhat by the discovery of the load of weapons in the hold of the small Sardinian ship. Back on the Saratoga once again, Hunter met with Heath and Yaz and discussed the mother lode he had found.
“Either they were hiding their most valuable weapons in that ship or they were just about to make a huge arms deal and we happened to hijack the delivery truck,” Hunter said as he battled his way through yet another plate of ill-prepared food. “Not only are there Sidewinders, but also Shrike antiship missiles and dozens of other weapons.”
“If I had to guess, I’d say they were doing a deal,” Yaz said. “Most likely with one of Lucifer’s allies. Probably to be used against us.”
“If that’s the case, we were more than dumb lucky jumping on that freighter,” Heath said.
“Right,” agreed Hunter. “Not only did we get more Sidewinders than we need, we kept them out of some unfriendly hands.”
The Saratoga once again starting sailing to the east in earnest. They entered the Strait of Sicily the following evening — a night during which Hunter closely examined the cornucopia of weapons they’d found aboard the Sardinian ship. Hunter counted more than 150 Sidewinders in the cache, which were moved to the ammunition magazine aboard the carrier. There were also a number of antipersonnel bombs, small napalm rockets, and a few dozen Shrike antiradar missiles, as well as more standard iron bombs and high-explosive devices.
Hunter immediately wired up six Sidewinders to his F-16, and began configuring the Harrier jump-jets to do the same. Of all the jets on the carrier, the Harriers could most easily adapt to the fighter-interceptor role.
Hunter later took an hour off to visit the ailing Sir Neil. The Englishman was confined in the carrier’s version of intensive care, the two Italian doctors hovering over him. He was heavily bandaged from his waist to his head. Still, the Brit was conscious and typically plucky.