Hypersonic Thunder: A Novel of the Jet Age Read Free Page A

expanding scope. Rodriquez had ridden the crest of the wave and was now president and chief engineer of Aerospace Unlimited. Nancy Shannon, Tom’s second wife, ran the parent company, which had been renamed “Vance Shannon, Incorporated” to honor the old man. Nancy gave Rodriquez a great deal of independence, but in the end, she was calling the shots, with the support of the board of directors.
    Bob had been living at 1550 Foster Road, Apartment 1C, on and off for six months. He spent at least half his time traveling, making it increasingly tough to supervise the rapidly growing interests of the firm Vance Shannon had established for him. This apartment was convenient, about three miles from the flight line at Eglin Air Force Base, where the latest version of his laser-guided bomb was being tested.
    Until three weeks ago, Bob had been living like some broken-down cold-call vacuum cleaner salesman, getting by with a mattresson the floor in the bedroom, his prized television plopped on a box in the living room. The only other furniture was a stool at the breakfast bar, where he ate miserable meals that ranged from a low of a frozen dinner to the relative high of Wheaties cereal and milk that was still fresh.
    Then Mae had called, saying she was coming for one last visit. Panicking, he called Barron Rents, furnishing the place with a single order over the telephone, hoping to mask his miserable bachelor existence from her. Now he flopped back in the plaid recliner, the least offensive thing in the mud-ugly combination of cheap furniture and universal draperies. Everything was glaringly new, unmatched and unloved, and the dismal ensemble told his lonely story even better than a mattress on the floor might have.
    He smiled to himself as he thought of the early days of their courtship, when Mae would have found the mattress on the floor erotic—they had made love in many other equally uncomfortable places.
    A pain stabbed him as he thought about Tom being reunited with Nancy at the same time Mae was cutting ties with him. He still couldn’t believe it, but he couldn’t argue the point. He’d been an absentee husband, gone for months at a time, and Mae was too good for such treatment. He loved her and Rod, their seventeen-year-old son, but he was obsessed with the new weaponry he was helping create, and he let his work take precedence. Things were not going to improve. Now there was a new system on the horizon, one with possibilities that surpassed even his fervid imagination.
    He didn’t blame her. Mae had warned him four years ago that something had to give—and now she was serious. She had probably met someone else, it was inevitable. He couldn’t blame her. He had always been faithful to her with women, but always unfaithful with work.
    A mental image of Tom’s face as he knew him in Korea suddenly surfaced in his mind. Shannon had been young, blond, and ruggedly handsome. Rodriquez had been top dog then, a twelve-victory ace, while Tom was a relative newcomer, eager to go to war in MiG Alley. Tom, a Marine ace in World War II, scored four MiG kills officially during the war, with a fifth victory being confirmed four years later, so he was a jet ace, too.
    Later, Tom had introduced him to his father, Vance Shannon, the legendary test pilot turned industry consultant. Vance had taken an immediate liking to him, for he saw—as Tom did as well—that Rodriquez was an electronics genius, with qualities and talents that the Shannons did not possess.
    For a brief while he had gotten along well with all of them, Vance, Tom, his twin brother Harry, and the rest of the Shannon organization, Aerospace Consultants, Incorporated, as it was called then. Bob liked them and had worked hard. But things changed when Vance brought him, unannounced, into the firm as a partner. Both brothers were upset, but Tom took it as a personal affront.
    As Bob scored one phenomenal business success after another, Tom’s enmity grew to the point