Tom Clancy's op-center_ acts of war - Tom Clancy [164]
Private Honda was the last Striker into a pit. As soon as he was crouched down, his arms over his head, Rodgers stepped back. He stood in the end of the cave, listening to the bellowing as it grew louder. He felt proud of his countrymen as he thought of the Tomahawk, the result of applied American intellect, skill, spirit, and purpose. He felt that way about the ROC as well. Both machines had worked exactly as they were designed to. They did their jobs. So had the Strikers and he was deeply proud of them as well. As for himself, he would have wished for the blast to consume him, whatever form it took, were it not for the fact that his own job was not yet finished.
The walls and floor of the cavern shook. Particles of rock fell from the cave ceiling. The low thrum of the rocket engine grew deafening as the missile entered the cave.
No sooner had the walls of the main cavern begun to glow with the missile's exhaust than the Tomahawk exploded. The glow became an instant of white light, then a fierce red glow as the roar shook down rocks and dirt. Rodgers clapped his hands over his ears in a failed effort to block out the sound. He watched as flame rolled down the main corridor and fragments of the Tomahawk bounced, skidded, and flew along the cavern. Large and small pieces struck the mouth of the fork and ricocheted off the walls. Some were knife-edged sheets spinning edge-over-edge. Others were clumsy, smoking slag. Most fell to the ground before they reached the pits. One popped the light bulb, throwing the tunnel into darkness. Rodgers was forced to duck and turn his face to the wall, not to escape the shrapnel but to protect his face from a massive fist of heat which pounded him. From the time the intense temperatures surrounded him, it hurt to move and especially to breathe.
The sound died first, followed by the flames. A short time later the stifling heat released him. Rodgers heard coughing from the pits. He stood slowly and walked over.
"Is anyone hurt?"
There were a flurry of negatives. Rodgers reached down and pulled up the first soldier whose hand he could find. It was Sergeant Grey.
"Help the others," Rodgers said, "then put a detail together to find and secure the warhead. I'm going to see about the ROC."
"I think Colonel August already did that, sir," Grey said.
"What do you mean?" Rodgers asked. "Where is he?"
"He didn't come with us," Grey said. "He wanted to move the ROC farther away. He thought it'd give us a better chance if the Tomahawk hit it."
Rodgers told him to help the others out, then jogged toward the main corridor. He took the gun from his belt so he wouldn't lose it.
The cave had resisted the United States Navy's efforts to shut it down. There were chunks of still burning missile embedded in the walls and strewn on the floor. It reminded Rodgers of Gustave Dore's etchings of Dante's Inferno. But the cavern was still whole and still navigable. He turned left, toward the gorge, drawing on the last reserves of stamina to reach his friend.
Rodgers saw the west-side mouth of the cave. He didn't see the ROC. As he came closer he looked out at the thick trees, the surrounding hills, flaming pieces of the missile, and long, late afternoon shadows. He didn't see the ROC. Then he noticed the dirt path which led to the road-cut. The ROC was parked about two hundred yards away. August was running back.
"General!" he yelled. "Is everyone all right?"
"A little scorched," Rodgers replied, "but otherwise okay."
"What about the warhead?"
"I sent Sergeant Grey and a small detachment to look for it."
August reached Rodgers's side. He grabbed his wrists and drew him gently toward the wall beneath the ledge. "There are still some armed Kurds in the hills," he said. He pulled his radio from his belt. "Private Honda?"
"Sir?"
"Let me have Corporal Prementine."
The NCO was on the radio a moment later.
"Corporal," said August, "is B-Team all right?"
"I'm with them now," he said. "They evacuated themselves and the surviving Kurds before the Tomahawk arrived. There were no injuries."
"Very good,"