Air Force One is Haunted (Jerry eBooks) by Robert Serling

Author:Robert Serling [Serling, Robert]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Jerry eBooks
Published: 2016-03-29T04:00:00+00:00

General Duane Collison seldom made luncheon appointments. Invariably he ate his noonday meal at the Army-Navy Club, where he was virtually assured of running into some old military crony or cronies. Today, he walked into the club’s handsome foyer and, as usual, looked around for some convivial acquaintance. At first he saw no one, and he was about to reconnoiter the dining room when a meaty hand thumped his back, and simultaneously his ears were assaulted by a gravelly voice.

“Well, if it isn’t flyboy Collison! Eating alone?” Collison turned and inwardly groaned. Far down on the list of desired luncheon companions was the owner of both hand and voice, Vice-Admiral Virgil “Rhino” Robertson, USN (Ret.), until recently deputy chief of staff for Naval Air Operations. The nickname fitted the potbellied admiral far better than his uniforms—Rhino, in a naval career spanning almost forty years, had walked away from seventeen crashes and collected almost as many reprimands as medals. He was feared for his temper, revered for his fairness, respected for his ability, and enshrined in the Navy’s annals for his idiosyncrasies. These included wearing his old Navy football helmet and monogramed N sweater on the bridge of every ship he commanded, which gave him the appearance of a college student who had somehow wandered accidently into a combat zone.

Collison knew the admiral mainly by reputation and considered him a loud-mouthed boor. Yet when their paths had crossed occasionally at the Pentagon, Collison had found him capable and an articulate advocate of the Navy’s defense role. There was no other luncheon prospect in sight at the club, and the general, who hated to eat by himself, bowed to the inevitable.

“Just popped in for a quick sandwich,” he said with false cordiality. “Why don’t you join me?”

It wasn’t as bad as Collison had feared. Rhino was a bit too bombastic for the general’s taste and decidedly opinionated, but he had a quick wit and was nobody’s fool. Besides, he shared Collison’s conviction that President Haines’s last two budgets had called for military spending cuts of alarming proportions.

“Not just foolhardy but insane,” Collison was saying. “The man’s an absolute lunatic if he thinks we can reduce defense expenditures and still stand up to the communists.”

Robertson admired Haines even though he didn’t always agree with him. “He means well, General. Hell, you know as well as I do the Pentagon wastes too much dough.”

“Are you defending that last cut? Seventeen percent?”

“The budget the Pentagon submitted contained at least 20 percent fat. The trouble was that Haines didn’t go after the fat—he zeroed in on specific projects, in eluding some we really needed. I should know He torpedoed one of my own pets—that experimental aluminum carrier. I really wanted that baby. A sixty-five knot flattop! Christ, I went all the way up to the old man to plead my case.”

“The old man? You mean Haines?”

“Yep, the President himself. Three weeks before I retired, I spent a half-hour trying to sell him on that project. He really surprised me—he’s a naval history buff.

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