Free Top Gun by T. E. Cruise Page A

borrowing him from
     the Air Force in order to put him in charge of the spy-plane pilot-recruitment program. The day he’d backed out of his promise
     to resign from the Air Force without being able to tell Linda why—the spy-plane project was ultra top secret—was the day she’d
     stormed out of his life.
    “I remember the Mayfly MR-1 spy plane program very well,” Linda was saying. “Especially the flap when the Russians managed
     to shoot one down, and how embarrassed Eisenhower and the country was when the Reds put our pilot who’d been captured alive
     on trial for espionage.”
    “That’s right,” Gold said. “Well, anyway, it was GAT who built that spy plane for the government. Back then, as always, GAT
     had the best research-and-design department, and at that point the company already had a long history of working with the
     government on top-secret—or, more to the point, clandestine—programs concerning aeronautical espionage.”
    “What does this have to do with GAT’s jetliner competition against Amalgamated-Landis?”
    “Everything.” Gold sighed. “The AL-12 jetliner was luring away the airlines from the GAT GC-909, the production costs for
     which had been enormous. My father was financially over extended. If the GC-909 didn’t emerge triumphant in this competition,
     GAT was finished. Meanwhile, concerning the spy plane, Pop knew that he had the government over a barrel. GAT had the best
     engineering talent in the industry for that sort of project. If GAT couldn’t—or
wouldn’t
—build the spy plane, the CIA would have to go without.”
    “And?”
    “And so Herman Gold cut a deal. He agreed to build the spy plane if the CIA used its influence with the Civil Aeronautics
     Board to get CAB to reconsider its prior approval of the AL-12’s design specs.” He shook his head. “As you can imagine, the
     news scared the airlines right off the AL-12 and right into the waiting arms of GAT. The GC-909 was a success. The AL-12 was
     sucker-punched into history. Amalgamated-Landis’s perfectly good airplane suffered such a tarnished-by-innuendo reputation
     that it never even made it into production. End of story.”
    “Wow…,” Linda said slowly. “Double-wow… That’s a best-seller’s worth of airline industry dirt right there.”
    “Hey!” Gold exclaimed accusingly.
    She winked. “Just kidding, cutie.”
    Gold nodded, feeling bad.
    “Hey, come on now,” Linda comforted. “It was a long time ago, and your father just did what he had to do in order to save
     his company.”
    “I guess.”
    “And from what I know about Tim Campbell, that guy’s no angel.” She took Gold’s hand. “Steve, it was business, that’s all.”
    “Yeah, I know that,” Gold replied. “It’s just that I grew up with this image of Pop as always being on the up-and-up. A guy
     in a white hat, you know? But I guess I never really knew him. We started to communicate once the Air Force transferred me
     to L.A., but there was so much ground to cover between us, and so little time….”He trailed off.
    “And now it’s too late,” Linda finished for him.
    Gold frowned, angry and frustrated. “I can’t help thinking about all that wasted time when I was growing up and could have
     gotten to know my father. What the hell use is hindsight when we can’t go back to amend our mistakes?”
    Linda kissed him. “Sometimes you can.”

CHAPTER 4
    (One)
    Gold Aviation and Transport
    Burbank, California
    12 February, 1974
    Don Harrison was seated at the head of the table in the empty executive conference room. The room was windowless and darkly
     paneled, illuminated by brass wall sconces and ceiling fixtures with green glass shades, and dominated by the massive, rectangular
     mahogany conference table surrounded by leather chairs. The conference room had always reminded Harrison of the interior of
     the New York Public Library. Herman Gold had favored this men’s-club look with lots of brass, dark