Read Online America by Stephen Coonts - Free Book Online Page A

tonight?”
    â€œI don’t know. Perhaps.”
    â€œWhy don’t you call me from Washington, let me know? I could thaw steaks and Toad can cook them tonight on the grill. I’ll thaw one out for you.”
    â€œOkay.”
    She touched his cheek. “You seem happier than I’ve seen you in years, Jake. You’re fully engaged.”
    â€œThey keep me jumping, that’s for sure.”
    â€œAnd you love it.”
    He grinned. “It’s the niftiest job I’ve had in years. Maybe ever. The truth is that it’s fun working with really smart people, like Ilin. Man, I didn’t know there were this many geniuses in the world. At times I feel like I’m the dumbest kid in the class, but what the hey. I’m giving it my best shot. And yeah, that’s fun.”
    They found Toad and Ilin sitting on the screened-in porch drinking coffee. In his mid-forties, Janos Ilin was a tall, lean man with craggy features and lively, expressive features. He greeted Callie now with a phrase in Russian, and she fired a few words back at him.
    â€œGood morning, Jake,” Ilin said to the admiral with a smile. Ilin liked to use first names. Apparently someone had told him that was the American custom and he took it to heart.
    â€œSo did you sleep okay?”
    â€œFine, Jake. Just fine.”
    â€œI’m going back to Washington in a few minutes,” Jake said, more to Toad than Ilin. “You guys make yourselves at home. Callie is going to thaw steaks for tonight.”
    â€œWill you be returning this evening, sir?” Toad asked.
    â€œI don’t know.”
    Jake took his coffee with him when he went upstairs to pack. As he climbed the stairs he heard Callie speaking to Ilin in Russian, probably asking him what he wanted for breakfast. When Jake came back downstairs carrying his overnight bag, he found Ilin inspecting the bookshelf.
    â€œHelp yourself,” he told the Russian. “Toad, how about driving me down to the hospital helo pad.”
    He kissed his wife, then went out to the car with Tarkington. As Toad piloted the car along the highway, Jake told him of the submarine hijacking. “USS America, according to the Pentagon duty officer. It’s on television, he says; all the channels are running news specials. Turn it on when you get back, watch Ilin’s reaction.”
    â€œWhy?” Toad asked, referring to the theft of the sub.
    â€œI dunno. Someone wanted a sub.”
    Toad whistled. “Holy…!”
    After a bit Jake asked, “What do you think of Ilin?”
    â€œHe’s sharp as a razor, Admiral. It’s hard to figure what he’s thinking, but I suspect that he has a low opinion of you and me. It’s just a feeling I have, nothing specific.”
    â€œWe are sorta small-caliber guys,” Jake muttered.
    â€œHe speaks great English,” Toad continued. “Has an excellent vocabulary. Seems to know a lot about a lot of stuff. He has something to say about every subject I could think to raise. This morning you saw him checking out your taste in literature.”
    As Jake mentally cataloged the thrillers, mysteries, and action-adventure novels that filled his shelves, Toad added, “He thinks we’re nincompoops.”
    â€œThere’s nothing on my shelves that will disabuse him of that notion,” Jake replied. “Let’s let him hang on to it as long as possible.”
    *   *   *
    Kolnikov had America running at three knots, five hundred feet below the surface of the sea, when he engaged the autopilot. He had seen submarine autopilots before, of course, but not an autopilot that was designed to run the ship all the time, except in the most dire emergency. He had never seen a submarine with completely computerized, fly-by-wire controls operated with a joystick, either. No fool, Vladimir Kolnikov knew the reason that naval engineers didn’t trust submarine