Patriot games - Tom Clancy [245]
"It'll be worth it to cool things off," Jack said as he turned the steaks.
"Roger that. It's just your basic thunderstorm. Captain. We get the big ones three or four times a year. It'll knock down some trees, but as long as you're not in the air or out in a small boat, it's no big deal. Down in Alabama with this kind of storm coming across, we'd be sweating tornadoes. Now that's scary!"
"You've seen one?"
"More 'n one, Cap'n. You get those mostly in the spring down home. When I was ten or so, I watched one come across the road, pick up a house like it was part of a Christmas garden, and drop it a quarter mile away. They're weird, though. It didn't even take the weathervane off my pappy's church. They're like that. It's something to see, all right-but you want to do it from a safe distance."
"Turbulence is the main flying hazard, then?"
"Right. But the other thing is water. I know of cases where jets have ingested enough water through the intakes to snuff the engines right out." Robby snapped his fingers. "All of a sudden you're riding in a glider. Definitely not fun. So you keep away from them when you can."
"And when you can't?"
"Once, Cap'n, I had to land on a carrier in one-at night. That's about as close as I've come to wetting my pants since I was two." He even threw in a shudder.
"Your Highness, I have to thank you for getting all of this out of Robby. I've known him for over a year and he's never admitted to being mildly nervous up there." Jack grinned.
"I didn't want to spoil the image," Jackson explained. "You have to put a gun to Jack's head to get him aboard a plane, and I didn't want to scare him any more than he already is." Zing! And Robby took the point.
It helped that the deck was now in the shade, and there was a slight northerly breeze. Jack manipulated the steaks over the coals. There were a few boats out on the bay, but most of them seemed to be heading back to harbor. Jack nearly jumped out of his skin when a jet fighter screamed past the cliff. He turned in time to see the white- painted aircraft heading south.
"Robby, what the hell is that all about? They've been doing that for two weeks."
Jackson watched the plane's double tail vanish in the haze. "They're testing a new piece of gear on the F-18. What's the big deal?"
"The noise!" Ryan flipped the steaks over.
Robby laughed. "Aw, Jack, that's not noise. That's the sound of freedom."
"Not bad, Commander," His Highness judged.
"Well, how about the sound of dinner?" Ryan asked.
Robby grabbed the platter, and Jack piled the meat on it. The salads were already on the table. Cathy made a superb spinach salad, with homemade dressing. Jack noted that Sissy was bringing the corn and potatoes out, wearing an apron to protect her dress. He distributed the steaks and put Sally's hamburger on a roll. Next he got their daughter in a booster seat. The one awkward thing was that nobody was drinking. He'd gotten four bottles of a choice California red to go with the steaks, but it seemed that everyone was in a teetotaling mood.
"Jack, the electricity is acting up again," his wife reported. "For a while there I didn't think we'd get the corn finished."
The Secret Service agent stood in the middle of the road, forcing the van to stop.
"Yes, sir?" the driver said.
"What are you doing here?" The agent's coat was unbuttoned. No gun was visible, but the driver knew it was there somewhere. He counted six more men within ten yards of the van and another four readily visible.
"Hey, I just told the cop." The man gestured backward. The two State Police cars were only two hundred yards away.
"Could you tell me, please?"
"There's a problem with the transformer at the end of the road. I mean, you can see this is a BG and E truck, right?"
"Could you wait here, please?"
"Okay with me, man." The driver exchanged a look with the man in the right-front seat. The agent returned with another. This one held a radio.
"What seems