thermal-imaging navigation set, and by their AN / APQ- 174 multimode terrain-following radar, the tiny warplane streaked inbound, changing course every ten to twenty seconds, skirting as far as possible around the growing number of vessels they picked up On radar. In OVER WATER mode, a tiny beam of radar energy measured the distance between the CV-22's belly and the water, and a warning light would illuminate if the distance dipped below twenty feet.

The pilot was responsible for keeping the aircraft a safe distance above the water-no autopilot in existence had the precision to hold such a low altitude. Flight and sensor information was electronically projected onto

Fell's helmet visor, so he didn't have to look down into the cockpit for vital information-a fraction of a second's distraction could kill them all. As long as there were no sheer obstructions such as ships or towers in the flight path-the radar altimeter did not look forward, only downward- they were safe.

That is, if flying less than a wingspan's distance above the water at four miles per minute could be considered safe.

The plane was to drop the MSPF team about ten to twelve miles from the coast, but obviously the closer to shore they could get before running into hostile detection systems, the better. In their case it was not hostile Soviet radars-it was the huge number of boats that kept popping up on radar. But there was an "obstacle" to contend with-the port town of Liepaja, now only fifteen miles away. The piers and warehouses along the coast were so bright now that they threatened to destroy their night vision-and if they could see the town, someone could well see them. They managed to get closer than ten miles to shore before encountering boats they could not safely circumnavigate, but the closer they got to shore, the harder it was to avoid them.

"All right, I think we've gotten as close as we can get," Fell told Watanabe. "I can't go far enough around these sonsofbitches. If they get an eyeball on us, the game is up. Alert the team and get the cargo doors open.~~

Watanabe made the interphone calls. The glow from Liepaja was so bright now that it created glare on the CV-22 PAVE HAMMER's windscreen.

"Christ, it feels like the whole world can see us up here," Fell muttered on interphone.

"Double-check switches, Martin. If we make one squeak on the radio or forward-looking radar, they'll pick it up all the way to fucking St. Petersburg."

Watanabe carefully checked to see that all the radio switches were on STANDBY or RECEIVE, the APQ- 174 was not in TER mode, all other radios that could transmit a signal were in STANDBY, such as the instrument-landing system, and that all exterior lights were off.

The AAR-50 infrared scanner showed the area around them was clear for at least eight miles, the optimal range limit for the FLIR. "Clear on cargo doors." As Watanabe hit the switch to open the rear cargo ramp, Fell rotated a small switch on his control stick, which rotated the engine nacelles on the wingtips of the PAVE HAMMER and transformed the bird from a conventional turboprop plane to a helicopter, and the CV-22 began slowing from two hundred and fifty to only thirty miles per hour.