Read Online The Intruders by Stephen Coonts - Free Book Online Page A

major was good, and the major trapped
on his first pass as Jake was reducing power at the 180-degree position.
Down and turning, on speed, looking for the ball crossing the wake,
wings level and reducing power, now power on for the burble, watching
the lineup and flying that ball …
    The Intruder swept across the ramp and slammed into the deck. As the
throttles went forward the tailhook caught a wire and dragged the plane
to a dead stop.
    Then the plane began to roll backward. Jake jabbed the hook-up button
and added power to taxi out of the gear.
    The director was giving him the come ahead as Flap said, “The whole
concept of having five thousand guys crammed together without women is
unnatural. Everybody horny, jacking off in the shower, into their
sheets-this boat is a floating semen factory! In nineteen
seventy-three! My God, haven’t we humans made any progress in
understanding man’s sexual needs in all these years of . - .”
    Queued up waiting for Cat Two, checking the gear and flap settings, the
fuel, then following the yellow shirt’s signals as he brought the plane
into the shuttle-Jake was doing the things he knew how to do, the things
that made the hassles worthwhile.
    Throttles up … the salut&-and wham, they were off to do it again.
This time Jake left the gear and flaps down. He flew straight ahead
upwind until the major passed him on the left going downwind.
    Jake banked for the crosswind turn. The plane entered a shaft of
sunlight and the warmth played on his arms and legs. Inside his oxygen
mask Jake grinned broadly.
    After four traps Jake was directed to fold his wings and stop near the
carrier’s island with the engines running while the plane was refueled,
a “hot” turnaround. He opened the canopy and took off his oxygen mask.
His face was wet with sweat. He swabbed away the moisture and watched
the planes making their approaches.
    Flap Le Beau also sat watching, silent at last.
    Heavenly silence. Except for the howl of jet engines at full power and
the slam of the catapult and an occasional terse radio message. The
flight deck of an aircraft carrier was the loudest place on earth, yet
oh so pleasant without Flap’s drivel.
    In a few minutes Jake had 6,500 pounds of fuel and gave the
purple-shirted fuel crew the cut sign, a slice of the hand across his
throat. Mask on, canopy closed, parking brake off, engage nose-wheel
steering and goose the throttles a smidgen to follow the director’s
signals. Now into the queue waiting for the cat …
    And too soon it was over. Jake had the ten day traps the law required
and was once more day qualified as a carrier pilot. He shut the plane
down on the porch near Elevator Four and climbed down to the deck still
wearing his helmet.
    After a few words with the plane captain, he descended a ladder to the
catwalk, then went down into the first passageway leading into the 0-3
level, the deck under the flight deck.
    Flap Le Beau was behind him.
    “You did okay out there this morning, Ace,” Flap commented.
    “You didn’t.” Jake stopped and faced the bombardier/navigator.
    “Say again?”
    “I got an eighty-year-old grandmother who could have done a better job
in the right seat than you did today.”
    “Kiss my chocolate ass, Ace. I didn’t ask for your opinion.
    “You’re going to get it. You flew with me. I expect a BN to help me
fly the plane, to act as a safety observer at all times, to read the
checklists.”
    “I just wanted to see if you could-`
    “I can! While you were sitting there with your thumb up your butt and
boring me to tears with the story of your miserable life, you could have
been checking out the computer and radar for the debrief. You never
even brought the radar out of standby! Don’t ever pull that stunt
again.”
    Flap put his face just inches from Grafton’s. “I ain’t taking any shit
from the Navy, swabbie. We’d better get that straightened out here and
now.”
    “Le Beau, I don’t know if you’re senior to me or