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 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 Tango, 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 Norwegian 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 them. 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 Lucifer’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 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 …
Chapter 44
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!” 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 … ”