Fortunes of War

Fortunes of War

Stephen Coonts

Language: English

Pages: 376

ISBN: 0312185839

Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub

The bestselling author of "Flight of the Intruder" now presents a powerful story of an utterly believable Third World War. Filled with up-to-the-minute insider military detail and dramatic, compelling scenes of battles in the air and on the sea, "Fortunes of War" tells an epic tale of three heroes, three countries--and a world in the balance.

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the lead, took the runway as the last MiG lifted off. Chernov and his wingman made a section takeoff, Chernov on the left. Safely airborne, Chernov turned slightly left so that he could look back over his shoulder. Yes, the other two Sukhois were lifting off. In less than a minute, the four fighters were together and climbing to catch the three MiGs, which were climbing on course as a flight of three aircraft, spread over a quarter of a mile of sky. The Tateyama strike was scheduled to follow

reference to them. Jiro hoped that somewhere his old friends killed by F-22s were having a good laugh at Nishimura’s naïveté. Or stupidity. Whichever. When Cassidy came slashing in, Nishimura was going to get a quick education. He would probably die before he realized his folly. Jiro had recommended that the Zeros use their radars until they were fifty miles from Chita. “Only at Chita have we encountered antiradiation missiles, which must be ground-based. We must use our radars to find the

and began a descent. “Call the Japanese and Russian ambassadors,” President David Herbert Hood told the national security adviser, Jack Innes. “Ask them to come to the White House again as soon as possible.” It was one o’clock in the morning in Washington. Innes didn’t ask questions. He got up from the table and went to a telephone in the back of the White House war room. Hood turned to General Tuck, the chairman of the Joint Chiefs. “It’s time for us to get in the middle. Congress has been

this scoundrel. He rose stiffly, bowed, and walked from the room. That had been two days ago. Naruhito had forsaken his ceremonial, almost-mystical position as head of state to speak the truth as he believed it, for the good of the nation. He had never done that before, but Abe…advocating the unthinkable…telling the emperor to his face what his duty was—never in his life had Naruhito been so insulted. The memory of Abe’s words still burned deeply. He had written a letter to the president of

was pounding. Sweat stung his eyes, ran down his neck… He checked his switches—missiles selected, stations armed, master arm on. The transport was still eight or ten miles away when it went by Chernov’s right wingtip. He laid the Sukhoi into a sixty-degree angle of bank and stuffed the nose down while he lit the afterburners, shoved the throttles on through to stage four. The heavy jet slid through the sonic barrier and accelerated quickly: Mach 1.5, 1.7…1.9. Passing Mach 2 he raised the nose

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