璇玑之心刃·冷血悍将-第129部分

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‘Will　this　be　a　SEAL　job？‘
‘We‘re　not　sure　yet。　Kelly；　I　can　give　you　two　weeks　while　we　work　on　other　aspects　of　the　mission。‘
‘How　do　I　get　in　touch；　sir？‘
Maxwell　dropped　a　Pentagon　pass　on　the　table。　‘No　phones；　no　mail；　it‘s　all　face…to…face　contact。‘
Kelly　stood　and　walked　him　out　to　the　helicopter。　As　soon　as　the　Admiral　came　into　view；　the　flight　crew　started　lighting　up　the　turbine　engines　on　the　SH…2　SeaSprite。　He　grabbed　the　Admiral‘s　arm　as　the　rotor　started　turning。
‘Was　the　Song　Tay　job　burned？‘
That　stopped　Maxwell　in　his　tracks。　‘Why　do　you　ask？‘
Kelly　nodded。　‘You　just　answered　my　question；　Admiral。‘
‘We‘re　not　sure；　Chief。‘　Maxwell　ducked　his　head　under　the　rotor　and　got　into　the　back　of　the　helicopter。　As　it　lifted　off；　he　found　himself　wishing　again　that　Kelly　had　taken　the　invitation　to　officer…candidate　school。　The　lad　was　smarter　than　he‘d　realized；　and　the　Admiral　made　a　note　to　look　up　his　former　mander　for　a　fuller　evaluation。　He　also　wondered　what　Kelly　would　do　on　his　formal　recall　to　active　duty。　It　seemed　a　shame　to　betray　the　boy‘s　trust　…　it　might　be　seen　that　way　to　him；　Maxwell　thought　as　the　Sea…Sprite　turned　and　headed　northwest　…　but　his　mind　and　soul　lingered　with　the　twenty　men　believed　to　be　in　SENDER　GREEN；　and　his　first　loyalty　had　to　be　to　them。　Besides；　maybe　Kelly　needed　the　distraction　from　his　personal　troubles。　The　Admiral　consoled　himself　with　that　thought。
Kelly　watched　the　helo　disappear　into　the　forenoon　haze。　Then　he　walked　towards　his　machine　shop。　He‘d　expected　that　by　this　time　today　his　body　would　be　hurting　and　his　mind　relaxed。　Strangely；　the　reverse　was　now　true。　The　exercise　at　the　hospital　had　paid　off　more　handsomely　than　he‘d　dared　to　hope。　There　was　still　a　problem　with　stamina；　but　his　shoulder；　after　the　usual　start…up　pain；　had　accepted　the　abuse　with　surprisingly　good　grace；　and　now　having　passed　through　the　customary　post…exercise　agony；　the　secondary　period　of　euphoria　had　set　in。　He‘d　feel　good　all　day；　Kelly　expected；　though　he‘d　hit　the　bed　early　tonight　in　anticipation　of　yet　another　day‘s　punishing　exercise；　and　tomorrow　he‘d　take　a　watch　and　start　exercising　in　earnest　by　rating　himself　against　the　clock。　The　Admiral　had　given　him　two　weeks。　That　was　about　the　time　he‘d　given　to　himself　for　his　physical　preparation。　Now　it　was　time　for　another　sort。
Naval　stations；　whatever　their　size　and　purpose；　were　all　alike。　There　were　some　things　they　all　had　to　have。　One　of　these　was　a　machine　shop。　For　six　years　there　had　been　crashboats　stationed　at　Battery　Island；　and　to　support　them；　there　had　to　be　machine　tools　to　repair　and　fabricate　broken　machine　parts。　Kelly‘s　collection　of　tools　was　the　rough　equivalent　of　what　would　be　found　on　a　destroyer；　and　had　probably　been　purchased　that　way；　the　Navy　Standard　Mark　One　Mod　Zero　machine　shop　selected　straight　out　of　some　service　catalog。　Maybe　even　the　Air　Force　had　the　same　thing　for　all　he　knew。　He　switched　on　a　South　Bend　milling　machine　and　began　checking　its　various　parts　and　oil　reservoirs　to　make　sure　it　would　do　what　he　wanted。
Attendant　to　the　machine　were　numerous　hand　tools　and　gauges　and　drawers　full　of　various　steel　blanks；　just　roughly　machined　metal　shapes　intended　for　further　manufacturing　into　whatever　specific　purpose　a　technician　might　need。　Kelly　sat　on　a　stool　to　decide　exactly　what　he　needed；　then　decided　that　he　needed　something　else　first。　He　took　down　the　。45　automatic　from　its　place　on　the　wall；　unloaded　and　disassembled　it　before　giving　the　slide　and　barrel　a　very　careful　look　inside　and　out。
‘You‘re　going　to　need　two　of　everything；‘　Kelly　said　to　himself。　But　first　things　first。　He　set　the　slide　on　a　sturdy　jig　and　used　the　milling　machine　first　of　all　to　drill　two　small　holes　in　the　top　of　the　slide。　…The　South　Bend　machine　made　an　admirably　efficient　drill；　not　even　a　tenth　of　a　turn　on　the　four…handled　wheel　and　the　tiny　cutting　bit　lanced　through　the　ordnance　steel　of　the　automatic。　Kelly　repeated　the　exercise；　making　a　second　hole　1。25　inches　from　the　first。　Tapping　the　holes　for　threads　was　just　as　easy；　and　a　screwdriver　pleted　the　exercise。　That　ended　the　easy　part　of　the　day‘s　work　and　got　him　used　to　operating　the　machine；　something　he　hadn‘t　done　in　over　a　year。　A　final　examination　of　the　modified　gun　slide　assured　Kelly　that　he　hadn‘t　hurt　anything。　It　was　now　time　for　the　tricky　part。
He　didn‘t　have　the　time　or　equipment　to　do　a　really　proper　job。　He　knew　how　to　use　a　welding　set　well　enough；　but　lacked　the　gear　to　fabricate　the　special　parts　needed　for　the　sort　of　instrument　he　would　have　liked　to　have。　To　do　that　would　mean　going　to　a　small　foundry　whose　artisans　might　have　guessed　what　he　was　up　to；　and　that　was　something　he　could　not　risk。　He　consoled　himself　with　the　thought　that　good　enough　was　good　enough；　while　perfect　was　always　a　pain　in　the　ass　and　often　not　worth　the　effort　anyway。
First　he　got　a　sturdy　steel　blank；　rather　like　a　can；　but　narrower　and　with　thicker　walls。　Again　he　drilled　and　tapped　a　hole；　this　time　in　the　center　of　the　bottom　plate；　axial　with　the　body　of　the　‘can；‘　as　he　already　thought　of　it。　The　hole　was　。60　inches　in　diameter；　something　he　had　already　checked　with　a　pair　of　calipers。　There　were　seven　similar　blanks；　but　of　lesser　outside　diameter。　These　he　cut　off　to　a　length　of　three　quarters　of　an　inch　before　drilling　holes　in　their　bottoms。　These　new　holes　were　。24　inches；　and　the　shapes　he　ended　up　with　were　like　small　cups　with　holes　in　the　bottom；　or　maybe　diminutive　flowerpots　with　vertical　sides；　he　thought　with　a　smile。　Each　of　these　was　a　‘baffle。‘　He　tried　to　slide　the　baffles　into　the　‘can；‘　but　they　were　too　wide。　That　earned　Kelly　a　grumble　at　himself。　Each　baffle　had　to　go　on　his　lathe。　This　he　did；　trimming　down　the　outside　of　each　to　a　shiny；　uniform　diameter　exactly　one　millimeter　less　than　that　of　the　inside　of　the　can；　a　lengthy　operation　that　had　him　swearing　at　himself　for　the　fifty　minutes　it　required。　Finished；　finally；　he　rewarded　himself　with　a　cold　Coke　before　sliding　the　baffles　inside　the　can。　Agreeably；　they　all　fit　snugly　enough　that　they　didn‘t　rattle；　but　loosely　enough　that　they　slid　out　with　only　a　shake　or　two。　Good。　He　dumped　them　out　and　next　machined　a　cover　cap　for　the　can；　which　had　to　be　threaded　as　well。　Finished　with　that　task；　he　first　screwed　it　into　place　with　the　baffles　out；　and　then　with　the　baffles　in；　congratulating　himself　for　the　tight　fit　of　all　the　parts　…　before　he　realized　that　he　hadn‘t　cut　a　hole　in　the　cover　plate；　which　he　had　to　do　next；　again　with　the　milling　machine。　This　hole　was　a　scant　。23　inches　in　diameter；　but　when　he　was　done　he　could　see　straight　through　the　entire　assembly。　At　least　he‘d　managed　to　drill　everything　straight。
Next　came　the　important　part。　Kelly　took　his　time　setting　up　the　machine；　checking　the　arrangements　no　less　than　five　times　before　doing　the　last　tapping　operation　with　one　pull　on　the　operating　handle　…　that　after　a　long　breath。　This　was　something　he‘d　observed　a　few　times　but　never　actually　done　himself；　and　though　he　was　pretty　good　with　tools；　he　was　a　retired　bosun；　not　a　machinist‘s　mate。　Finished；　he　dismounted　the　barrel　and　reassembled　the　pistol；　heading　outside　with　a　box　of　。22　Long　Rifle　ammunition。
Kelly　had　never　been　intimidated　by　the　large；　heavy　Colt　automatic；　but　the　cost　of　。45　ACP　was　far　higher　than　that　of　。22　rimfire　cartridges；　and　so　the　previous　year　he‘d　purchased　a　conversion　kit　allowing　the　lighter　rounds　to　be　fired　through　the　pistol。　He　tossed　the　Coke　can　about　fifteen　feet　before　loading　three　rounds　in　the　magazine。　He　didn‘t　bother　with　ear　protection。　He　stood　as　he　always　did；　relaxed；　hands　at　his　sides；　then　brought　the　gun　up　fast；　dropping　into　a　crouching　two…hand　stance。　Kelly　stopped　cold；　realizing　that　the　can　screwed　onto　the　barrel　blanked　out　his　sights。　That　would　be　a　problem。　The　gun　went　back　down；　then　came　up　again；　and　Kelly　squeezed　off　the　first　round　without　actually　seeing　the　target。　With　the　predictable　results：　when　he　looked；　the　can　was　untouched。　That　was　the　bad　news。　The　good　news　was　that　the　suppressor　had　functioned　well。　Often　misrepresented　by　TV　and　movie　sound　editors　into　an　almost　musical　zing；　the　noise　radiated　by　a　really　good　silencer　is　much　like　that　made　by　swiping　a　metal　brush　along　a　piece　of　finished　lumber。　The　expanding　gas　from　the　cartridge　was　trapped　in　the　baffles　as　the　bullet　passed　through　the　holes；　largely　plugging　them　and　forcing　the　gas　to　expand　in　the　enclosed　spaces　inside　the　can。　With　five　internal　baffles　…　the　cover　plate　made　for　number　six　…　the　noise　of　the　firing　was　muted　to　a　whisper。
All　of　which　was　fine；　Kelly　thought；　but　if　you　missed　the　target；　he　would　probably　hear　the　even　louder　sound　of　the　pistol‘s　slide　racking　back　and　forth；　and　the　mechanical　sounds　of　a　firearm　were　impossible　to　mistake　for　anything　harmless。　Missing　a　soda　can　at　fifteen　feet　did　not　speak　well　of　his　marksmanship。　The　human　head　was　bigger；　of　course；　but　his　target　area　inside　the　human　head　was　not。　Kelly　relaxed　and　tried　again；　bringing　the　gun　up　from　his　side　in　a　smooth　and　quick　arc。　This　time　he　started　pulling　the　trigger　just　as　the　silencer　can　began　to　occult　the　target。　It　worked；　after　a　fashion。　The　can　went　down　with　a　；22…inch　hole　an　inch　from　the　bottom。　Kelly‘s　timing　wasn‘t　quite　right。　His　next　shot　was　roughly　in　the　center　of　the　can；　however；　evoking　a　smile。　He　ejected　the　magazine；　loading　five　hollow…point　rounds；　and　a　minute　later；　the　can　was　no　longer　usable　as　a　target；　with　seven　holes；　six　of　them　roughly　grouped　in　the　center。
‘Still　have　the　old　touch；　Johnnie…boy；‘　Kelly　said　to　himself；　safing　the　pistol。　But　this　was　in　daylight　against　a　stationary　piece　of　red　metal；　and　Kelly　knew　that。　He　walked　back　to　his　shop　and　stripped　the　pistol　down　again。　The　suppressor　had　tolerated　the　use　without　any　apparent　damage；　but　he　cleaned　it　anyway；　lightly　oiling　the　internal　parts。　One　more　thing；　he　thought。　With　a　small　brush　and　white　enamel　he　painted　a　straight　white　line　down　the　top　of　the　slide。　Now　it　was　two　in　the　afternoon。　Kelly　allowe