Bagley, Desmond - Wyatts Hurricane by Wyatts Hurricane

Author:Wyatts Hurricane [Hurricane, Wyatts]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Six

The highest point of Cap Sarrat was a hillock, the top of which was forty-five feet above sea-level. On the top of the hillock was a 400-foot lattice radio mast which supported an array of radar antennae. From the antenna right at the top of the tower accurately machined wave-guides conducted electronic signals to a low building at the base; these signals, amplified many millions of times, were then projected on to a cathode-ray screen to form a green glow, which cast a bilious light on the face of Petty Officer (3rd Class) Joseph W. Harmon.

Petty Officer Harmon was both bored and tired. The Brass had been giving him the run-around all day. He had been standing-to at his battle station for most of the day and then he had been told off to do his usual job in the radar room that night, so he had had the minimum of sleep. At first he had been excited by the sound of gun-fire reverberating across Santego Bay from the direction of St. Pierre, and even more excited when a column of smoke arose from the town and he was told that Serrurier's two-bit army was surrounding the Base and they could expect an attack any moment.

But a man cannot keep up that pitch of excitement and now, at five in the morning with the sun just about due to rise, he felt bored and sleepy. His eyes were sore, and when he closed them momentarily it felt as though there were many grains of sand on his eyeballs. He blinked them open again and stared at the radar screen, following the sweep of the trace as it swept hypnotically round and round.

He jerked as his attention was caught by a minute green swirl that faded rapidly into nothingness and he had to wait until the trace went round again to recapture it. There it was again, just the merest haze etched electronically against the glass, fading as rapidly as it had arisen. He checked the direction and made it 174 degrees true.

Nothing dangerous there, he thought. That was nearly due south and at the very edge of the screen; the danger -- if it came -- would be from the landward side, from Serrurier's joke of an air force. There had been a fair amount of air activity earlier, but it had died away and now the San Fernandan air force seemed to be totally inactive. That fact had caused a minor stir among the officers but it meant nothing to Harmon, who thought sourly that anything that interested the officers was sure to be something to keep bun out of his sack.

He looked at the screen and again caught the slight disturbance to the south. As an experienced radar operator he knew very well what it was -- there was bad weather out there below the curve of the horizon and the straight-line radar beam was catching the top of it. He hesitated for a moment before he stretched out his arm for the telephone, but he picked it up decisively.

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