The Red Horseman by Stephen Coonts

after
eleven before Amy wheeled the car into the driveway and
killed the engine. Jake got out of the passenger seat
and held the rear door open for Callie.
    “Well, Mom, what’d'ya think?” Amy
asked.
    “You drive too fast.”
    “I do not! Do I, Dad?”
    “Wasn’t that a great movie?” said Jake
Grafton.
    “Dad!” Amy exclaimed in anguish.
“Don’t avoid the issue. Oooh, I just hate
it when you do that!”
    From the porch–this rambling three-story brick
built in the 1920’s still had its porch-Jake
waved to the federal protective service guard standing
on the corner under the light, then opened the door with his
key.
    “You two are just so narrow bandwidth,” Amy
continued, “so totally random.” Still talking in a
conversational tone of voice, she made for the stairs and
started up. “It’s like I’m stuck in an uncooled
fossil movie, some black-and white Ronald
Reagan time warp with all the girls in letter sweaters
and white socks and the boys in duck’s ass
greasecuts-was
    “Amy Carol,” Callie called up the
stairs. “I’ll have none of that kind of language in
my house.”
    Her voice came floating down. “I’m the last
kid in America growing up with Ozzie and Harriet
. . .”
    “You’re very narrow bandwidth, Harriet,” Jake
told his wife, who grinned.
    “What does that mean?” she asked softly.
    “I don’t know,” her husband confessed. He
kissed her on the forehead and led the way to the kitchen.
After Callie made coffee and poured him a cup,
he took it upstairs to the study.
    He flipped on the light and started. A man was
sitting behind the desk.
    Another sat on the couch.
    Automatically Jakes eye went to the
door of the safe. it was still closed.
    The men were in suits and ties, The man on the
couch had blond hair and spoke first. “Come in and
close the door, Admiral.”
    Jake stood where he was, “How’d you two get
in here?”
    “‘Come in and close the door. Unless YOU
want Your wife and daughter to hear this. Jake
obeyed.
    “Want to tell me Who YOU are?” he said.
    Now the man behind the desk spoke. “You haven’t
hit the right question Yet, Admiral. Ask us why
we’re here.”
    Jake remembered the coffee in his hand and sipped
it as he examined the visitors. Both under forty, but
not by much. Short hair. clean-shaven, reasonably
fit.
    was Get out of my
    chair,” he said to the man behind the desk.
    “Admiral, that confrontational tone is not going
to get us anywhere. Why don’t You sit down and
we’ll
    Jake tossed the remainder of the coffee
    at the man’s face.
    The liquid hit the target, then some Of
it splashed on the desk. The man grunted, then
wiped his face with his left hand. He Stood UP
slowly. As he got fully erect the blond man
on the couch uncoiled explosively in Jake’s
direction.
    Jake had been expecting this. He smashed the
coffee into the side of the blond man’s face with his
right hancdu-p the cup shattered-and followed it
UP with a hard left that connected with the man’s skull
and jolted Jake clear to the elbow. But then the man
had his shoulder into Jake’s chest and slammed him
back against the bookcase. The other man was coming around
the desk.
    Jake tried to use a knee on his
assailant’s body. No. He tried to chop with
both hands at the back Of the man’s neck. He
succeeded only in getting himself off balance, so his
blows lacked power.
    The man from the desk drew back a right and
delivered a haallymaker to Jake’s chin.
    The admiral saw stars and lost his balance
completely, When his vision cleared he was on the
floor, the blond standing and the other man kneeling beside
him. Blondie was using a handkerchief on the side
of his face. When he withdrew it Jake could
see blood.
    “You’ve had your nose in a matter that doesn’t
concern you, Admiral.
    You’re not Batman or Jesus H. Christ.
This visit was just a friendly warning. You’ve got a
wife and kid and it would be a hell of a shame if
anything happened to them. Do you