Patriot games - Tom Clancy [244]
"I'd love to be there. We do have a little free time "
"Then let's do it," Jackson said.
"I see you two are getting along."
"Indeed," the Prince replied. "I've wanted to meet an F-14 pilot for years. Now, you say that telescopic camera arrangement is really effective?"
"Yes, sir! It's not that big a deal. It's a ten-power lens on a dinky little TV camera. You can identify your target fifty miles out, and it's Phoenix time. If you play it right, you can splash the guy before he knows you're in the same county, and that's the idea, isn't it?"
"So you try to avoid the dogfight?"
"ACM, you mean-air-combat maneuvering, Jack," Robby explained to the ignorant bystander. "That'll change when we get the new engines, Cap'n, but, yeah, the farther away you can take him, the better, right? Sometimes you have to get wrapped up in the fur-ball, but if you do that you're giving away your biggest advantage. Our mission is to engage the other guy as far from the boat as we can. That's why we call it the Outer Air Battle."
"It would have been rather useful at the Falklands," His Highness observed.
"That's right. If you engage the enemy over your own decks, he's already won the biggest part of the battle. We want to start scoring three hundred miles out, and hammer their butts all the way in. If your Navy'd had a full-size carrier, that useless little war never would have happened. Excuse me, sir. That wasn't your fault."
"Can I show you around the house?" Jack asked. It always seemed to happen. You worked to have one of your guests meet another, and all of a sudden you were cut out of the conversation.
"How old is it, Jack?"
"We moved in a few months before Sally was born."
"The woodwork is marvelous. Is that the library down there?"
"Yes, sir." The way the house was laid out, you could look down from the living room into the library. The master bedroom was perched over it. There had been a rectangular hole in the wall, which allowed someone in there to see into the living room, but Ryan had placed a print over it. The picture was mounted on a rail and could be slid aside, Jackson noticed. The purpose of that was clear enough. Jack led them to his library next. Everyone liked that the only window was over his desk and looked out over the bay.
"No servants. Jack?"
"No, sir. Cathy's talking about getting a nanny, but she hasn't sold me on that idea yet. Is everyone ready for dinner?"
The response was enthusiastic. The potatoes were already in the oven, and Cathy was ready to start the corn. Jack took the steaks from the refrigerator and led the menfolk outside.
"You'll like this, Cap'n. Jack does a mean steak."
"The secret's in the charcoal," Ryan explained. He had six gorgeous-looking sirloins, and a hamburger for Sally. "It helps to have good meat, too."
"I know it's too late to ask, Jack, but where do you get those?"
"One of my old stock clients has a restaurant-supply business. These are Kansas City strips." Jack transferred them to the grill with a long-handled fork. A gratifying sizzle rose to their ears. He brushed some sauce on the meat.
"The view is spectacular," His Highness observed.
"It's nice to be able to watch the boats go by," Jack agreed. "Looks a little thin now, though."
"They must be listening to the radio," Robby observed. "There's a severe-thunderstorm warning on for tonight."
"I didn't hear that."
"It's the leading edge of that cold front. They develop pretty fast over Pittsburgh. I'm going up tomorrow, like I said, and I called Pax Weather right before we left. They told me that the storms look pretty ferocious on radar. Heavy rain and gusts. Supposed to hit around ten or so."
"Do you get many of those here?" His Highness asked.
"Sure do, Captain. We don't get tornadoes like in the Midwest, but the thunder-boomers we get here'll curl your hair. I was bringing a bird back from Memphis last-no, two years ago, and it was like being on a pogo stick. You just don't have control of the airplane. Those