Читаем Shadow Flight полностью

"Oh, Jesus!" a voice shouted as Matthews grasped his ejection handle. "Lead is on fire! Lead is hit!"

"All aircraft," the Hawkeye controller shouted, "go Weapons Hold… Weapons Hold."

Matthews gripped the handle firmly, focusing on the next three seconds. His mind raced as he fought to hold the nose in level flight. Adrenaline pumping, Matthews paused a fraction of a second, then yanked on the ejection handle.

The explosive blast hurled the American pilot more than 150 feet above the B-2. Matthews tumbled through the sky, separated from his seat, then went into free-fall to a lower altitude, where his parachute would automatically open.

The Stealth, trimmed full nose up, pitched violently upward into the clouds. Brotskharnov, blinded and burned by the rocket blast, slumped semiconscious in his seat. The Russian pilot groaned in agony as Simmons unstrapped, then staggered to grab Matthews's control stick. The entire front and left side of the technician's body was blackened by the explosive ejection.

Simmons grasped the stick with his burned hands, shoving forward to lower the nose. He could barely see as he forced the B-2's nose toward level flight. Unaware that the trim was full nose up, the technician kept pressure on the stick. His mind, desperate in his pain and panic, searched for a way to remain alive.

Simmons horsed the bomber around, forcing the nose down. Feeling the howling wind increase, Simmons pulled the three throttles back to idle and raised the nose.

Brotskharnov, now unconscious, was hanging over the left side of his ejection seat. His limp body was impeding Simmons's efforts to control the B-2. The technician shoved the Russian back and to the right. Brotskharnov's head flopped over onto his right shoulder, pulling his upper torso over the right side of the seat.

The gravely injured technician, on his knees in the cavity left by the pilot's seat, felt the bomber tremble at the verge of a stall. The B-2, pointed skyward, was losing speed rapidly. As the airspeed decayed, the nose dropped dangerously low.

Simmons, recognizing that the Stealth was becoming unmaneuverable, shoved the throttles forward and pulled savagely on the control stick. Shadow 37 stalled, rolled off on the right wing, then spun out of control toward the cold, windswept sea.

The bomber, spinning inverted, fell seven miles through the dark clouds as Simmons tried to recover control of the aircraft. He cried out in anguish as the image of Irina Rykhov flashed through his mind. He was rolling the B-2 when it emerged from the low rain clouds. As he screamed in terror, Shadow 37 slammed into the water and exploded in a thunderous fireball.

<p>Epilogue</p>

Lieutenant Colonel Charles Matthews was the only witness to the crash of Shadow 37.

He was hanging from his parachute, descending in the cold rain, when the Stealth bomber exploded three miles away. The flash and low, rolling rumble startled the B-2 pilot as he prepared his life raft for entry into the storm-tossed ocean. Matthews plunged into the ice-cold water, gasping for air as his windswept parachute dragged him over 200 yards through the towering waves. He swallowed two gulps of seawater before he could release the parachute risers.

Freeing himself from the parachute canopy, he struggled into the one-man raft, shivering uncontrollably until he was able to zip the raft's rubber and nylon cover closed around his neck.

Sundowner One, hit by the Soviet air-to-air missile, trailed flames from its starboard side until the pilot secured the right engine. The blazing fire went out after the engine fuel and hydraulic systems were stopcocked.

The F-14 limped back to the USS Carl Vinson where the crew discovered the right main landing gear was jammed in the up position. After repeated attempts to deploy the landing gear the crew faced the inevitable; they would have to abandon the wounded Tomcat.

The pilot, who was the operations officer of VF-111, conferred with the Air Boss, briefed his radar intercept officer, then flew by the carrier and made a controlled ejection 300 yards to the left of the bridge.

Both men arced through the freezing rain, separated from their seats, then stopped in midair as their parachutes opened. They watched the F-14, nose down, dive into the mountainous waves and disappear.

The radar intercept officer, followed by the pilot, splashed down. Quickly releasing their parachutes, they fought to keep their heads above water as the giant waves washed over them.

Overhead, an SH-3 Sea King plane-guard helicopter pitched and rolled as the pilot wrestled the controls. Seconds later, a rescue harness was lowered to the F-14 crew.

The RIO grabbed the sling in a death-grip, placed it over his head and slipped the collar under his armpits. The hoist operator immediately raised the officer to the helicopter's open hatch, helped him in, then lowered the harness to the other crewman.

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