Able One Read Online Free PDF Page A

smirk.
    “I’m still a married man,” Harry said. “We’re separated; we’re not divorced yet.”
    Delany shook his head. “When are you gonna bite the bullet, Harry? Go through with the divorce, pal. Get on with your life.”
    Harry said nothing.
    Nakamura asked, “Is the colonel married?”
    “Nope,” Rosenberg answered. “I Googled her. She’s in hot water with the Air Force, as a matter of fact. They caught her sleeping with a married guy--some general, no less.”
    “Your kind of woman,” Delany said.
    “Yeah. A slut,” added Reyes.
    Harry decided the banter had gone far enough. “We’ve got work to do. Let’s get moving.”
    As they carried their trays to the disposal area, Taki asked, “Did any of you see the northern lights out there? They’re spectacular!”
    Delany said, “So that’s what it was! I caught a glimpse just before the sun came up. Then they faded out. I was wondering what those lights were.”
    “Well, shit, we are in Alaska,” Rosenberg said.
    Nakamura shook her head. “They were awful bright. Must be some big flare on the sun to work them up like that. Or something.”
     
    Standing in front of the desk in the cubbyhole of an office that the base commander had given her, Lieutenant Colonel Karen Christopher was not in a happy mood. Bad enough to be exiled to this godforsaken dump in Alaska. Even worse to push the regular pilot of this oversized bus out of his job and into the right-hand seat. He’s already pissed off at me. Now they’ve stuck me with a navigator who’s so inexperienced he looks like a skinny high school kid who’s snuck into Air Force blues.
    Her navigator, Lieutenant Eustis Sharmon, was tall, quite lean, with skin the color of dark chocolate. He was standing at attention before Colonel Christopher, who stood a full head shorter than him. Sharmon looked uncomfortable; Christopher felt grouchy.
    But as she looked up at Sharmon’s young face and troubled, red-rimmed eyes, Colonel Christopher said to herself, It’s not his fault. The brass assigned him to me and he’s stuck with the job. Just like I’m stuck with driving this clunker of an airplane.
    “Take it easy, Lieutenant,” she said, trying to put some warmth into it. She extended her hand. “Welcome on board.”
    Sharmon loosened up a little. “Thanks, Colonel,” he mumbled.
    Christopher perched on the edge of the desk and gestured to the chair against the wall. “Have a seat. Relax.”
    The lieutenant settled into the chair like a carpenter’s ruler folding up, big hands on his knees.
    “I bet you played basketball,” Colonel Christopher said, trying to smile.
    “No, ma’am. Track. Ran the distance events.”
    Her brows rose. “Marathon?”
    Shannon smiled for the first time. It was a good, bright smile. “Did the marathon once. Once was enough.”
    She laughed. “Well, what we’re doing here is easier than a marathon.” “Racetrack, they told me.”
    Nodding. “That’s right. We take the bird out to a designated test area over the ocean, then fly a figure eight while the tech geniuses downstairs get their laser working. Piece of cake.”
    But in her mind she was thinking of the missions she had flown over Afghanistan: twelve-thousand-kilometer distances, midair refuelings, full stealth mode, pinpoint delivery of smart bombs. Going from flying a B-2 to jockeying a dumbass 747 was more than a demotion, it was a humiliation.
    “So there’s not much for me to do, then,” Lieutenant Sharmon said.
    Christopher nodded. “Not as long as the GPS is working.”
     
    Fargo, North Dakota: KXND-TV
    “Whattaya mean there’s no satellite pictures?” Heydon Kalheimer demanded indignantly. He was standing in front of the studio’s blue wall, due to be on the air with the weather report in forty seconds. As usual, he had shown up at the last possible moment. The monitor screen that usually showed the National Weather Service satellite imagery was as blank as the wall. Kalheimer felt very