Rules of Engagement (1991) Read Online Free PDF

pilot and his RIO.
    Bradley Carlyle Austin wore the insignia patch of his former Marine Corps fighter squadron. It denoted that he was an F-4 Phantom Phlyer. Twinkling hazel eyes highlighted a tanned face and trim physique. Brad was five feet ten and 165 pounds. Known as a gregarious officer with a quick wit, he enjoyed the company of his fellow pilots and RIOs. They, in turn, respected their solitary "jarhead" for his straightforward personality and excellent flying skills.
    A graduate of the Naval Academy, Brad Austin had majored in aeronautical engineering. He had also been a member of the swimming team, and competed as a platform diver. Graduating with honors, he had resisted his father's wishes by accepting a commission in the Marine Corps.
    His father, Vice Adm. Carlyle Whitney Austin, USN, was a proud Annapolis alumnus who firmly believed in tradition and loyalty. The three-star flag officer had vociferously opposed his son's decision not to pursue a career in the naval service.
    Brad's senior year at the academy had been marred by the prolonged quarrel with his father. The more incensed his father had become over his decision, the more determined Brad had become to chart his own course.
    The past holiday season, when Brad had worn his marine dress blue uniform home, had been a strain for the entire Austin family. When again pressed by his father, Brad had made it clear that it was his decision, and his decision alone, to pursue a career path of his own choosing.
    What he had not disclosed was the fact that he did not want to serve in the same service as his father. Brad had always bristled at the insinuations that his father would ensure a smooth career path. Furthermore, how could he possibly explain to the admiral that he genuinely liked the Marine Corps?
    Lieutenant Russ Lunsford, tall and lanky with stooped shoulders and thinning blond hair, was considered one of the better RIOs in the squadron. The twenty-seven-year-old bachelor had an intellectual air about him, underscored by his methodical approach to every facet of his life. Lunsford made a constant effort to keep his personal world, including his impeccably clean stateroom, as neat and predictable as possible. Naturally nervous, he hid his apprehensiveness behind a pretense of hardy self-assurance.
    Although Russ Lunsford was competent technically, he had never quite adjusted to the hostile environment of aerial combat. Everyone liked the former college basketball star but knew not to approach him when he became moody. His worst emotional swings generally manifested themselves two to three hours before a combat mission.
    It was common knowledge that Russ Lunsford was not overly fond of flying, even with the best pilots in the squadron. The few individuals who knew about Lunsford's past attributed hi s a cute nervousness to the fact that he had washed out of advanced fighter--attack pilot training. Whatever the reason had been, he remained an extremely uneasy crew member.
    Lieutenant Jon O'Meara approached Brad as Lunsford closed and secured the hatch. O'Meara was a quintessential Irishman, full of mirth and always boisterously confident. He was two inches shorter than Brad, with short-cropped red hair and dancing blue eyes.
    O'Meara's pranks had become legend before the air-group commander had censored him for singing an indecent song in mixed company at the officers' club. The lewd rendition of "Shagging O'Leary's Daughter" had not been well received by the admiral's wife.
    O'Meara's look asked the question. "What the hell happened out there?"
    Austin dropped his helmet, flight gloves, and kneeboard in one of the high-backed crew chairs. "We got our asses shot off covering a downed Spad driver. How's the skipper and Ernie?"
    Lieutenant (junior grade) Harry Hutton, the squadron duty officer, placed his hand over the phone he had just answered. Hutton was at a desk next to Brad. "I'm talking to Scary McCary now." McCary was Dr. Lloyd McCary, the squadron