Storming Intrepid by Payne Harrison

Author:Payne Harrison
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2015-12-25T23:00:00+00:00

The Northrop KD2R-5 target drone banked away from the beach near Titan Complex 40 at KSC and traveled about a quarter mile over the Atlantic Ocean. The Army specialist played with his remote-control joysticks and the aluminum monoplane turned again, coming to a course parallel with the beach at about five hundred feet altitude.

"Okay, Major," coached Warrrant Officer Hogan, "put it in the circle and wait for the 'engage' light."

Mission Specialist Sandford Watkins peered through the viewfinder of the Stinger surface-to-air missile and easily lined up the propeller-driven drone, which was traveling at 80 knots. When the morning sun glinted off the drone's dark aluminum skin, the red "engage" light lit up in the viewfinder and Watkins squeezed the trigger, causing the missile to pop out of the tube muzzle. After the Stinger "jumped" about forty feet from the launcher, its solid-fuel propellant ignited and the small missile took off, leaving a corkscrew tail of smoke in its wake. Watkins watched the high-powered dart as it vectored off in the wrong direction. He would've sworn it was going to miss the drone, but then it made a sharp climbing left turn and quickly gained on the lumbering target. When the small aircraft disappeared in a ball of flame, Watkins couldn't help yelling, "Awwwright! Man, this is more fun than shooting pop-bottle rockets."

Hogan grinned. "Yes, sir. I know the feeling. I think you've got the hang of it. Now, let's try it with this contraption on."

Watkins shrugged. "Okay. I'm not sure whose idea this was, but I'll give it a try."

"As I understand it, Major," said Hogan, "some air crapper came up with this brainstorm."

Watkins laughed. "Figures. I can't tell you how nice it is to see another Army face around here, Mr. Hogan. I feel a little lonely at times."

"I understand, Major Watkins. Say, how did a ground pounder like you ever become an astronaut, anyway?"

"Beats me. Somebody in the Pentagroin must have dropped my file into the wrong in-basket. Ready? Heave."

The two men lifted up the top half of the extravehicular space-suit, sans oxygen pack and maneuvering unit, and draped it over Watkins's torso. The major raised the clear visor so he could breathe easily, and took another Stinger from the Army warrant officer. Hogan spun his finger in the air, indicating he wanted another drone launched, and almost immediately a monoplane was catapulted off its small ramp.

The first Stinger Watkins fired with the suit on went wild. Fortunately, all the nearby airspace had been closed to air traffic and there was no danger of downing an innocent Cessna. On the second shot, Watkins contorted himself so he could peer through the eyepiece with the helmet on, and the missile got close. The third Stinger was dead on.

"One more drone, Major?" asked Hogan.

"Let's do it."

And the last aluminum monoplane was scattered over the ocean.

"Help me get outta this thing," pleaded Watkins. "It's kinda hot without the cool suit on."

Hogan assisted him, then began a critique. "For your purposes, I think you can handle the Stinger with no problem, sir.

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