By Richard Herman
Colonel Anthony "Muddy" Waters has a project: to mildew an organization of poorly knowledgeable rogues and misfits into heroes. His project is person who no different officer within the usa Air strength could contact. yet Waters has a fabled stubbornness and commitment unprecedented within the armed companies ... and the need to make the very unlikely possible.
The Warbirds is the leap forward novel that captures the saga of the F-4 Phantom and the boys who made it a legend: like "Muddy" Waters, who needs to remodel the boys and girls below his command -- together with a perfectly proficient pilot yet free cannon named Jack Locke-into a scuffling with strength to be reckoned with. simply because their nation may ask them at any time to fly their F-4s into the attention of the firestorm, to stand an overpowering enemy and courageous the flames of hell itself with out query and without support.
Tomorrow that decision will come.
And there'll be no turning backwhen the heavens explode.
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Extra info for The Warbirds (Jack Locke, Book 1)
He missed a meeting with me this morning and did not answer his page. ” Langdon felt a sudden chill realizing that he was about to see a dead body. His stomach had never been particularly stalwart. It was a weakness he’d discovered as an art student when the teacher informed the class that Leonardo da Vinci had gained his expertise in the human form by exhuming corpses and dissecting their musculature. Kohler led the way to the far end of the hallway. There was a single door. “The Penthouse, as you would say,” Kohler announced, dabbing a bead of perspiration from his forehead.
Although his people did not celebrate Christmas, he imagined that this is what it must feel like to be a Christian child, sitting before a stack of Christmas presents, about to discover the miracles inside. He opened the album and examined the photos. A lifetime of sexual fantasies stared back at him. Marisa. An Italian goddess. Fiery. A young Sophia Loren. Sachiko. A Japanese geisha. Lithe. No doubt skilled. Kanara. A stunning black vision. Muscular. Exotic. He examined the entire album twice and made his choice.
6 Sixty-four minutes had passed when an incredulous and slightly air-sick Robert Langdon stepped down the gangplank onto the sun-drenched runway. A crisp breeze rustled the lapels of his tweed jacket. The open space felt wonderful. He squinted out at the lush green valley rising to snowcapped peaks all around them. I’m dreaming, he told himself. Any minute now I’ll be waking up. “Welcome to Switzerland,” the pilot said, yelling over the roar of the X-33’s misted-fuel HEDM engines winding down behind them.