Balance of Power: A Novel by James W. Huston Read Free Book Online Page B

approached. Armstrong watched out the side window as the ocean grew closer; it looked as if the helicopter was going to smack into the water anysecond. He couldn’t judge how high they were. The only reference point was the horizon and he had learned a long time ago that the ocean can look the same from five thousand feet as it does from one hundred.
    The helicopter crew chief gave him a two-minute warning. Armstrong ordered his men up, “Check gear!” he shouted.
    The dark helicopters hovered ten feet above the ocean as they drew closer to the target.
    “Two minutes!” the crew chief shouted as he lowered the ramp at the back of the helicopter and waited until it stopped. He then looked at Lieutenant Armstrong, who nodded.
    The Marine captains who had been trained to fly the Sea Stallion in special operations accelerated their helicopters to the maximum speed at sea level of one hundred sixty knots. The helicopters beat their way through the moist air, each with its seven massive blades bending under the weight.
    The pilots strained to see the ship ahead. The pilot in Armstrong’s helicopter could just make out the superstructure of the ship ahead of them. Fortunately, the Flyer had a very distinctive look that made the close-up identification easy. “That’s her!” he exclaimed as he tried to determine the heading. He wanted to approach from the stern, but they were coming in on the Flyer’s bow.
    The pilot climbed to avoid striking the water with his rotors as he banked left to slow his approach. He circled around low on the horizon to head toward the stern of the ship. They were still three miles away and would be seen only by a diligent lookout who knew what he was looking for. The pilot noticed the ship didn’t seem to be moving. Strange. The fastest merchant ship in the world dead in the water. He looked around the horizon for other ships or airplanes. Nothing. He continued in toward the Flyer and gave the signal to the crew chief for the SEALs to get ready. The crew chief shouted, “One minute!”
    Armstrong gave hand signals to his men as they stoodand lined up in order. The four lead SEALs attached the ninety-foot specially braided ropes to the bulkhead hard-points above the ramp of the helicopter. They had been carefully coiled so that the first men out had only to kick them and the ropes would easily uncoil to the deck of the ship.
    The pilot hugged the surface and held his speed, flying as low and fast as safety would allow. At one quarter mile he pulled the nose of the helicopter up quickly, using the rotors as a large brake. The helicopter slowed as quickly as it could be slowed as it approached the stern of the ship. The Super Stallion looked like an enormous bug about to crush something smaller as it approached the fantail. Two SEAL snipers hung out of the open door and trained their M14s on the ship, looking for anything moving.
    Armstrong reached for something to hold as the Super Stallion came to a deafening, frightening stop two hundred yards aft and left of the Flyer’ s fantail. The snipers scanned the ship quickly but carefully through their scopes. While continuing to look, one of the snipers gave a thumbs-up to the crew chief, who relayed immediately to the pilot, who transmitted via the radio to the other helicopter that it was clear.
    The second Super Stallion charged in, covered by the hovering sniper helicopter, and did a quickstop directly over the fantail of the Flyer . The SEALs kicked the braided ropes onto the deck and fastroped down instantly. When the first half of the SEAL platoon was on the deck, the first helicopter jerked up and pulled away.
    Armstrong’s helo rushed in and stopped over the fantail. The SEALs already on deck were covering every possible approach point with their automatic weapons.
    Lieutenant Armstrong was the first to leap out of the helicopter and slide down the fastrope to the deck. He landed on his feet and ran away from the rope. He stopped next to