Brown, Dale - Shadow Command by Brown Dale

Author:Brown, Dale [Brown, Dale]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: General, Thrillers, Air Pilots; Military, McLanahan; Patrick (Fictitious character), Fiction, War & Military, War Stories, Suspense Fiction, Generals, Political, Suspense, United States - Weapons Systems, Iran, United States - Military relations - Russia, Russia (Federation) - Military relations - United States, Air warfare
ISBN: 9780061173721
Publisher: London : Harper, 2009.
Published: 2009-02-09T05:00:00+00:00

EAST UNITED STATES

T H AT S A M E T I M E

Relaxing in his newly reupholstered seat at his desk in the executive

office suite aboard Air Force One, on his way to his “southern White

House” oceanside compound outside St. Petersburg, Florida, Presi-

dent Gardner was studying the very ample bosom and shapely fanny

of the female Air Force staff sergeant who had just brought a pot of

coffee and some wheat crackers into the office. He knew she knew

he was checking her out, because every now and then she would cast

a glance over to him and a tiny smile would appear. He had a news-

paper on his lap but was angled over just enough to surreptitiously

watch her. Yep, he thought, she was taking her sweet time setting

out his stuff. Damn, what an ass . . .

Just as he was going to make his move and invite her to bring

those tits and ass over to his big desk, the phone beeped. He was

tempted to push the do not disturb button, cursing himself that he

hadn’t done so after he finished his last meeting with the staff and

settled in, but something told him that he should take this call. He

reluctantly picked up the receiver. “Yes?”

“President Zevitin of the Russian Federation calling for you on

the ‘hot line,’ sir,” the communications officer responded. “He says

it’s urgent.”

He held the mute button on the receiver, groaned aloud, then

gave the stewardess a wink. “Come back in ten minutes with fresh

stuff, okay, Staff Sergeant?”

“Yes, sir, ” she replied enthusiastically. She stood to attention,

thrusting her chest out to him, before glancing at him mischievously,

slowly turning on a heel, and departing.

He knew he had her pegged, he thought happily as he released

the button. “Give me a minute, Signals,” he said, reaching for a

cigarette.

S H A D O W C O M M A N D

1 8 7

“Yes, sir.”

Shit, Gardner cursed to himself, what in hell does Zevitin want

now? He pressed the buzzer button to summon his chief of staff

Walter Kordus. He was going to have to review the policy he’d es-

tablished of immediately taking calls from Zevitin, he thought—he

was starting to speak with him almost on a daily basis. Ninety sec-

onds and a half a cigarette later: “Put him through, Signals,” he or-

dered, stubbing out the cigarette.

“Yes, Mr. President.” A moment later: “President Zevitin is on

the line, secure, sir.”

“Thank you, Signals. Leonid, this is Joe Gardner. How are

you?”

“I’m fine, Joe,” Zevitin replied in a not-so-pleasant tone. “But I’m

concerned, man, real concerned. I thought we had a deal.”

Gardner reminded himself to stay on guard while talking to this

guy—he sounded so much like an American that he could be talk-

ing to someone from the California congressional delegation or some

Indiana labor union leader. “What are you talking about, Leonid?”

The chief of staff entered the President’s office, picked up the dead

extension so he could listen in, and turned on his computer to start

taking notes and issuing orders if necessary.

“I thought we agreed that we would be notified whenever you’d

fly manned spaceplane missions, especially into Iran,” Zevitin said.

“This is really worrisome, Joe.

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