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CROSSFIRE - Atlantis DSV - New Cape Quest

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Ainsley nodded slowly. “How far are we from Macaw?”<br />

“Sixty miles, Admiral,” Richards noted.<br />

“Get a hold of Roberts, and tell her to do a full sweep of that seamount. I want it<br />

cleared before we get there. I don‟t know how long those Macs are going to be busy, but I‟d<br />

prefer not to give them too much leeway.”<br />

“Rapiers, this is Warseer. Be advised. Drop to the deck and increase speed to target.<br />

Sanitize the area of any contacts and continue patrol until Actual arrives. ETA is forty five<br />

minutes.”<br />

Roberts obediently pushed the fighter down to the seabed, the eleven other<br />

members following her down as they approached the seamount known as Macaw Bank. The<br />

giant submarine structure loomed on her sonar like a black pillar, blocking out everything<br />

beyond. The sea floor was a sheered rift valley, falling and rising like sweeping hills, the<br />

Raptors ducking over and around them as they tried to mask and interfere with their<br />

approach, denying whatever passive guidance locks might have been tracking on their<br />

positions.<br />

Behind her, Sarah Cunningham smiled a little as she settled in to a rhythm with the<br />

seafloor below her, finding every hill and ravine both quickly and precisely as she pressed<br />

her fighter closer and closer to the embankments, feeling the floor beneath her feet shudder<br />

slightly as the huge amount of turbulence beneath her wings kicked off the seabed and<br />

enveloped the Raptor. Rounding the next turn, something glinted in the shallower waters<br />

above her, and her head shot up to see the shadow pass. It had almost looked like...<br />

“Two Birds to Lead,” she called in. “I‟ve got a possible tally-ho on a bandit at eleveno‟clock<br />

high, bearing three one five.”<br />

...Roberts checked the bearing, both eyeballed and on sonars, but saw nothing. “You<br />

sure about that, Two Birds?”<br />

Cunningham strained to make out the shape again, but saw nothing. “Negative, can‟t<br />

confirm. Request permission to pursue?”<br />

Roberts hesitated for a long moment, and then swore. This wasn‟t something she<br />

could take a chance on. “Granted, Eight. Nine, cover her.”<br />

Obligingly, the two Raptors on the end of the formation peeled off and howled<br />

towards the surface, Cunningham‟s eyes darting through the shadows faster than her fighter<br />

could keep up. Her sonars continued to return nothing more than the black shadow of the<br />

seamount ahead, which had started to cast a long, cold shadow through the water as the<br />

sun sank lower on the horizon. The glare being kicked off the surface was painful, and her<br />

eyes watered as she squinted to make out shapes through the gloom just beneath the<br />

surface. Something sharp glinted ahead of her again, and quickly disappeared once more...<br />

but her sonars continued to lie.<br />

“This is not good,” she whispered inwardly.<br />

“Two Birds this is Warseer. I have negative contacts. Area seems clear.”<br />

Cunningham thought for a minute as the waves above her head continued to fly<br />

passed. She looked again at the shadow on her sensors, and kicked the fighter over to close<br />

with it. “Warseer, do you have any coverage on the back side of that seamount?”<br />

“Negative, Two Birds. Macaw Bank is too shallow – we‟re completely blind northside.”<br />

“Damn it,” she muttered again. “Request permission to make a high speed pass.”<br />

Roberts looked up at the shadow of Cunningham and Rogers‟ fighters above her<br />

head, and then looked forward to the looming seamount on her sensors, still several miles<br />

off. “Do it.”<br />

Cunningham didn‟t need to be told twice as she threw her throttles forward, and was<br />

pressed back hard in her seat, chasing the shadow in to the rising mountain. Her sonars<br />

continued to return little more than the haze of the distant fog, and her finger slowly came to<br />

cover her guns as the fighter began to move in to the dark-side of the bank.<br />

“Covering your six o‟clock, Two-Birds,” Rogers reported flatly.<br />

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