Eagle in the Sky - Smith Wilbur (бесплатные версии книг .txt) 📗

there were lectures and training films, and after that not much desire

for anything but a quick meal and then sleep.

The Colonel, le Dauphin, had flown one sortie with David.  He was a

small man with a relaxed manner and quick, shrewd eyes.  He had made his

judgement quickly.

After that first day, David and Joe flew together, and David moved his

gear into the locker across from Joe in the underground quarters that

the crews on standby used.

In those seventeen days the last links in an iron friendship were

forged.  David's flare and dash balanced perfectly with Joe's rock-solid

dependability.

David would always be the star while Joe seemed destined to be the

accompanist, the straight guy who was a perfect foil, the wingman

without personal ambition for glory whose talent was to put his number

one into the position for the strike.

Quickly they developed into a truly formidable team, so perfectly in

accord that communication in the air was almost extra-sensory, similar

to the instantaneous reaction of the bird flock or the shoal of fish.

Joe sitting out there behind him was for David like a million dollars in

insurance.  His tail was secure and he could concentrate on the special

task that his superior eyesight and lightning reactions were so suited

to.  David was the gunfighter, in a service where the gunfighter was

supreme.

The I.  A.  F.  had been the first to appreciate the shortcomings of

the-air-to-air missile, and relied heavily on the classic type of air

combat.  A missile could be induced to run stupid.  It was possible to

make its computer think in a set pattern and then sucker it with a break

in the pattern.  For every three hundred missile launches in air-to-air

combat, a single strike could be expected.

However, if you had a gunfighter coming up into your six o'clock

position with his finger on the trigger of twin 30-mm.  cannons, capable

of pouring twelve thousand shells a minute into you, then your chances

were considerably lighter than three hundred to one.

Joe also had his own special talent.  The forward scanning radar of the

Mirage was a complicated and sophisticated body of electronics, that

required firstly a high degree of manual dexterity.  The mechanism was

operated entirely by the left hand, and the fingers of that hand had to

move like those of a concert pianist.  However, more important was the

feel for the instrument, a lover's touch to draw the optimum results

from it.  Joe had the feel, David did not.

They flew training interceptions, day and night, against high-flying and

low-altitude practice targets.

They flew low-level training strikes, and at other times they went out

high over the Mediterranean and engaged each other in plane-to-plane

dogfights.

However, Desert Flower steered them tactfully away from any actual or

potential combat situation.  They were watching David.

At the end of the period, David's service dossier passed over

Major-General Mordecai's desk.  Personnel was the Brig's special

responsibility and although each officer's dossier was reviewed by him

regularly, he had asked particularly to see David's.

The dossier was still slim, compared to the bulky tomes of some of the

old salts and the Brig flicked quickly over his own initial

recommendation and the documents of David's acting commission.  Then he

stopped to read the later reports and results.  He grinned wolfishly as

he saw the gunnery report.  He could pick them out of a crowd, he

thought with satisfaction.

At last he came to le Dauphin's personal appraisal: Morgan is a pilot of

exceptional ability.  Recommended that acting rank be confirmed and that

he be placed on fully operational basis forthwith.  The Brig picked up

the red pen that was his own special prerogative and scrawled J agree at

the foot of the report.

That took care of Morgan, the pilot.  He could now consider Morgan, the

man.  His expression became bleak and severe.  Debra's sudden desire to

leave home almost immediately David arrived in Jerusalem had been too

much of a coincidence for a man who was trained to search for underlying

motives and meanings.

It had taken him two days and a few phone calls to learn that Debra was

merely using the hostel room at the University as an accommodation

address, and that her real domestic arrangements were more comfortable.

The Brig did not approve, very definitely not.  Yet he knew that it was

beyond his jurisdiction.  He learned that his daughter had inherited his

own iron will.  Confrontations between them were cataclysmic events,

that shook the family to its foundations and seldom ended in

satisfactory results.

Although he spent much of his time with young people, still he found the

new values hard to live with - let alone accept.  He remembered the

physical agony of his long and chaste engagement to Ruth with pride,

like a veteran reviewing an old campaign.

Well, at the least she has the sense not to flout it, not to bring shame

on us all.  She has spared her mother that.  The Brig closed the dossier

firmly.

Le Dauphin called David into his office and told him of his change in

status.  He would go on regular green standby, which meant four nights a

week on base.

David would not have to undergo his paratrooper training in unarmed

combat and weapons.  A downed pilot in Arab territory had a much better

chance of survival if he was proficient in this type of fighting.

David went straight from le Dauphin's office to the telephone in the

crew-room.  He caught Debra before she left the Lauterman Building for

lunch.

Warm the bed, wench, he told her, I'll be home tomorrow night.

He and Joe drove up to Jerusalem in the Mercedes, and he wasn't

listening to Joe's low rumbling voice until a thumb like an oar prodded

his ribs.

Sorry, Joe, I was thinking.

Well, stop it.  Your thoughts are misting up the windows.  What did you

say?

J was talking about the wedding, Hannah and me.  David realized it was

only a month away now, and he expected the excitement amongst the women

was heavy as static on a summer's day before the rain.  Debra's letters

had been filled with news of the arrangements.

I would be happy if you will stand up with me, and be my witness.  You

fly as wingman for a change, and I'll take on the target.

David realized that he was being honoured by the request and he accepted

with proper solemnity.  Secretly he was amused.  Like most young

Israelis David had spoken to, both Debra and Joe claimed not to be

religious.  He had learned that this was a pose.  All of them were very

conscious of their religious heritage, and well versed in the history

and practice of Judaism.

They followed all the laws of living that were not oppressive, and which

accorded with a modern and busy existence.

To them religious meant dressing in the black robes and wide-brimmed

hats of the ultra orthodox Mea Shea rim, or in following a routine for

daily living that was crippling in its restrictions.

The wedding would be a traditional affair, complete with all the

ceremony and the rich symbolism, complicated only by the security

precautions which would have to be most rigorously enforced.

The ceremony was to take place in the Brig's garden, for Hannah was an

orphan.  Also the secluded garden and fortress-like walls about it, were

easier to protect.

Amongst the guests would be many prominent figures in the government and