"Badger" Jackson. Flat-bottomed boats.
15.aug.2119. GMT 06.20.
Central African Front, no details.
The neat rows of metal hangars vigorously went down, and then completely slid under the bottom of the vehicle. A hot wind blew friendly in the face. The mood was high. "Badger" Jackson sat in the back left. The anti-tank launcher was turned on - just in case.
In the place of the machine gunner sat "Basta-Buzz". However, the main weapon today was something completely different - a long metal container about five feet long, which was laid between the seats along the hull of the flat-bottomed boat. Suddenly, something flashed from both sides, and immediately sheaves of brightly shining sparks flew away from the car - these were heat traps. Harrison, who was driving the car, joyfully yelled and made several jerks to the right and left.
- What the hell are you doing this for?! - the voice of PFC Private Carter sounded in the on-board communication earpiece.
- As if you don't know what's coming now, - Harrison answered quite cheerfully for a soldier going on a dangerous mission. - Better buckle your asses.
- We're still flying through our territory and to our own! - Basta objected quite fairly.
Indeed, they were now moving west, where the forward operating base, FOB, was located twenty miles from Fort Savage. There they were to receive additional equipment - an anti-drone system, in other words, a turret, and ECM attachments, including RWR - this would allow them to independently, even without an interlink, receive information about enemy AWACS scanning the frontline.
There, at the FOB, while the technicians would install all this electronic equipment on the vehicle, the fighters would probably have time to have a snack and sleep. In general, everything depended not on the technicians but on how quickly the target area would be cleared. One way or another, there was no need to hurry. The full composition of the group, which already included three vehicles with two or three fighters in each, and not four in one, as now, was supposed to fly out in a southerly direction only at sixteen hundred hours, or even later.
- Buckle up your asses, - Harrison said again with a cold voice.
- For what reason?! - Carter responded with disdain
- Show? - Harrison asked with glee.
- Well, show me! - Carter answered.
- This is going to be fun, - thought "Badger" Jackson and pushed Basta with his fist.
Both, knowing what this would bring, had already fixed their bodies.
The car was going smoothly, although quite energetically. Here and there, short, stocky trees were flying by, but soon it became clearly noticeable that for some reason, there, further ahead, trees were not growing.
Suddenly, the ground under the car broke off, and the line of the rocky cliff began to float further and further to the right - the car crossed this line, and not perpendicularly, but at a very sharp angle, going almost parallel.
- This? - Carter responded with arrogant bewilderment.
- Yes, at least, - Harrison answered. And then the car did something... Although a moment later Jackson realized what exactly - the tightened balls in his pants reacted even faster than it became obvious to him that the car was going down.
Everything was like on an amusement park, only below the flat-bottomed car there was, as it seemed then, about a thousand feet.
There seemed to be a rather wide river slowly flowing there, although now it was somehow not convenient to particularly consider whether there was water or just a plain under the car.
Carter howled. Basta managed to stretch out and grab him by the collar with both hands, pressing him back into the seat. In fairness, it should be said that this was not a fall in its purest form, when the device flies down with such acceleration that nothing holds the passengers.
Here, such acceleration, and even a purely airplane speed of descent would not have been possible - like any copter, the flat-bottomed car had its own aerodynamic limitations. However, inside, in his pants, everything was tightening up, and the view of the rock wall rushing towards the top added to the corresponding sensations. The howling of the wind again.
- Does anyone want to go for a swim? - Harrison asked when the car finally stopped its fall and hung over the water surface.
- Your mother! What the hell are you doing?! - Carter shouted, fiddling with the belt carabiner.
- Before the task at hand, you should warm up, - Harrison answered in a calm tone, - and fix your ass so that it does not fly out of the vehicle, and so that when it comes to work, nothing accidentally falls out of your ass - this can interfere, and for the whole team. And it won't take long to let America down.
The device moved upward again. Harrison reached somewhere under the dashboard. From the loudspeakers, unstandardly attached to both sides of the trough, the "iron man" thundered. Thus, with music, they arrived at FOB "Northrop".