Dragon Fire (The Battle for the Falklands Book 2) by Peter von Bleichert Page B

grill.
    “Bloody
hell,” he bounced in his seat, and, turned to the director, proclaiming:
“Torpedo, torpedo, torpedo.”   As those
around him shifted their focus from the radar’s plan position indicator to
sonar readouts, the sonar technician began the classification and
identification routine.
    Within
seconds, he had weapon types to help the director and captain defend the ship:
“VA-111 Shkval super-cavitators.   Two inbound, bearing zero-two-five
degrees.”   Two more frequency lines
appeared on the sonar display.   The
midshipman squirmed in his seat again and began
to analyze bearing, frequency, and range of the threats.
    The
Asters dove on the anti-ship missiles.   One Aster detonated above a Klub and sprayed it
with steel cubes.   The damaged Argentine
sea-skimmer wobbled and then tore itself apart by dynamic pressure.   The second Aster detonated proximate to the
second Klub anti-ship missile, but its warhead’s
shotgun effect missed the target.   This
second Klub accelerated and broke the sound barrier
with a crack as it carried on toward Dragon .
    “ASM
inside outer fence,” Williams noted.   “Phalanx online.   Then the
lieutenant commander reiterated: “All weapons free.”
    Fryatt’s
only response was a clenching of his teeth that made his cheeks poke out.   He looked to the clouds of chaff that floated
down toward the sea.
    The
anti-ship missile screamed over the water and flew at the shape its nose radar
said was an enemy target.   However, Dragon ’s chaff made this shape larger
than her true mass represented, and the missile’s computerized brain continued
to adjust its path at what it believed to be the enemy’s center of mass.   This center, however, was now off to the
starboard of the British guided-missile destroyer.
    Mounted
to its sponson was Dragon ’s close-in
weapons system.   With its distinctive
radome—nicknamed ‘Dalek’ after the aliens in Doctor Who—the Phalanx scanned the
sea with its search subsystem.   When it
had found a target and provided altitude, bearing, heading, range, and velocity
information to its computer, the computer analyzed the target’s range, speed
and direction.   A millisecond later, the
Phalanx swiveled on its mount and raised its Vulcan six-barreled Gatling
cannon.   Its track antenna and subsystem
scrutinized the target, observing it until it determined the probability of a
hit was worth firing.   On automatic, the
computer pressed the trigger, and with a ripping sound the Phalanx spat 75
tungsten bullets per second, walking them into the radar return it had deemed
threatening.
    Too
close for comfort, the remaining Klub anti-ship
missile blew up in a flash of orange, black, and red.   Its turbojet engine, the most robust part of
its structure, splashed in and cartwheeled for a moment before it stopped with
a slam and then abruptly sank.
    Fryatt
sighed and exhaled a breath he had held for minutes.   His blued air-deprived face turned pink
again, and he turned his attention to the report of underwater contacts.   The enemy had reached up to assault them from
the air, and now stabbed from beneath the waves.   His enemy would try to stick the knife in,
twist it, and look into his very eyes as he spilled Fryatt’s guts.   Fryatt, in that moment and without knowing
him by name, respected Argentine Navy Captain Matias.   He was, after all, just a patriot doing
everything within his power to win.   Fryatt nodded.   As he acknowledged
the existence and purpose of his foe, Fryatt decided he would win, and that he
would damn his enemy’s shadow to a deep, cold, black grave.   But he would do so with a salute and a memory he
would hold as long as he lived.
    If my life is to be a long one ,
Fryatt pondered as he looked around at the young people manning his ship’s
bridge.   He loved every one of them.   He would never tell them this directly, but had
anyone been looking, his usually cold blue eyes would have betrayed