THE RED HORSEMAN

The forces at work in a collapsed super-power are the strands that Stephen Coonts weaves into his latest block-buster novel, THE RED HORSEMAN. Greed, hatred, patriotism and blind ambition run riot in a society on the brink of chaos--a society that has been ruled for centuries by terror, murder and naked force.

As the infrastructure of the Soviet Union crumbles before the world's eyes, twenty thousand tactical nuclear weapons, once under the command of the Soviet military, are now up for grabs--and US intelligence believes they may soon appear on the open market, available to the highest bidder.

Rear Admiral Jake Grafton, attached to the Defense Intelligence Agency, is dispatched to Moscow. His assignment: ensure that the weapons are destroyed before they disappear into a terrorist pipeline pointed south, toward the Middle East. Unofficially, however, Grafton has learned there are those in his own government who would prefer to see his mission fail--and who will go to any lengths to stop it.

A hemisphere away, off the coast of the Canary Islands, the body of the British billionaire and media magnate Nigel Keren has been found floating in the sea near his yacht. Although Keren apparently died of natural causes, Grafton's contacts in Israeli intelligence--the Mossad--have evidence that he was the victim of a hit squad from within the CIA. It's the kind of knowledge that could prove fatal to Grafton--as well as to his wife and daughter. But he cannot back off: if the freelance operation succeeds, it could fan the flames of Middle East hostility into an international conflagration.

In a world of shifting loyalties and shifting allegiances, the rules Grafton used to live by no longer apply. The countdown to Armageddon may already have begun, and the only thing Grafton knows for sure is--as a soldier among spies--his rear flank is dangerously exposed. He has been targeted for assassination, and the conspiracy is clearly stamped: Made in America.

Stalked by rogue CIA agents, caught between rival factions fighting for the control of Russia, Jake Grafton vividly demonstrates the qualities that have captivated millions of readers around the globe. THE RED HORSEMAN is a story ripped from today's headlines, touching a raw nerve that runs from the heart of the New Russia...through a Washington seemingly out of control...straight into our living rooms.

The collapse of the Soviet Union was the inspiration for this novel of post-communist Russia. I had a good start on the tale when I decided that I had to see what Russia really looked like, so I boarded a jet for Moscow. What I saw in those ten July days in 1992 changed my take on the whole story. Every morning I walked the streets, then in the afternoons and evenings I would write on my laptop computer in my hotel room. That summer in Moscow beggars were everywhere. Gangs of gypsy urchins robbed foreigners on the public sidewalks while the police watched and did nothing. I used my umbrella to beat off a pack that latched onto me one afternoon as I walked back to my hotel from the American Embassy.

A great many people in Moscow still revere Lenin and Stalin, the communist icons. It was a shock to my American nervous system to look into what were obviously expensive apartments and see Stalin's portrait hanging on walls. The worse ogre of the 20th Century, the man who personally ordered the deaths of millions of Russians, was still admired and respected by some of his fellow countrymen.

Near Red Square I saw a classic communist demonstration. A small mob of people wearing red armbands, waving red flags, and carrying posters of Lenin mounted on poles ranted, paraded and argued with everyone in sight. Staying well away from them, I watched the show. Obviously many Russians weren't buying what the communists were selling that day. Perhaps the changes coming to this tortured land were real.

On one of my morning jaunts I found the place where some of the statues had ended up after being torn down during the anti-communist riots in the summer of 1991, while Gorbachev was being held under house arrest by a would-be junta. They lay beside the Moskva River in a little grassy area, a few hundred yards from the entrance to Gorky Park. Here a broken marble of Stalin rested on its side, Felix Dzerzhinsky communed with grass, and dogs urinated on a mutilated Lenin. I was very moved by these discarded statues, and used this setting for two scenes of THE RED HORSEMAN.

The most interesting part of my trip was a leisurely luncheon with Oleg Kalugin, who had once been a very senior KGB officer. While serving in the KGB he had been the case officer for the Walker spy ring. The year before I met Kalugin, when Gorbachev was being held by the junta that wanted to take over the government, Boris Yeltsin defied the KGB and the junta by climbing onto a tank in Red Square, one of the most courageous and dramatic acts in Russian history. Another man climbed onto that tank beside Yeltsin and convinced his former KGB colleagues not to fire upon Yeltsin or the crowd. That man was Oleg Kalugin.

In Russia in 1992, Kalugin was Somebody. As he walked into the restaurant, men stood at every table and shook his hand. He looked like an American president moving down the aisle of congress to make a state of the union address. Throughout our hour and a half discussion diners would come over, interrupt, shake his hand and say a few words. It wouldn't surprise me if he is someday elected president of Russia.

Kalugin talked to me at the request of an American literary agent who was selling his book in America. We didn't discuss spies or the KGB, both of which subjects I suspected were off limits. What we discussed at length was his take on the new order in Russia, on the politics of change. I left the interview with wider horizons. True, the streets were still full of beggars and thieves, every government employee in the land was on the take and the place was a reeking, polluted sewer, but some extremely able men, like Kalugin, were trying to build a better, decent country for all Russians to live in. Kalugin showed me Russia's human face.

Human face or no, I was delighted to leave the worker's paradise at the end of my ten days. I have traveled all over the world, yet Russia was the most foreign place I ever visited. This is the only country on earth that uses their customs service to search people leaving the country, not those entering. You can take anything you want into Russia. Anything. No one asks what is in your bag, no one opens it, no one cares, and there is no duty. However, they thoroughly search everyone leaving the sacred soil, trying to prevent travelers from exporting rubles, a felony, or some trashy consumer item manufactured at state expense for sale only to Russians. I still had some rubles in my pocket, so I dumped them in a trash can as I stood waiting in the customs line, watching petty bureaucrats hassle Russians trying to get the hell out. When my plane took off I breathed a genuine sigh of relief.

These mixed emotions were the background for THE RED HORSEMAN, a tale of greed and woe custom-made to fit a Russia trying to change. Maybe they will make it. Only God knows. Savant that I am, I predict the road will be damn rocky.

Amazingly enough, a Russian publisher is busy translating all my novels for publication there. They bought THE MINOTAUR first, then the others. It will be interesting to see what the heirs of Stalin think of THE RED HORSEMAN.

Hi Steve,
I certainly don't expect a reply, but just read the omnibus edition combining The Red Horseman and The Intruders, and I don't know where I've been. Now I want to read all the Jake Grafton novels. I was as much intrigued with Jake's musings re war, life, career, future, love, etc., as I was about the novel. I could only surmise that Steve Coonts had very similar thoughts along the highway of life.  I'm ex-military (Canadian and British), had basic flying instruction, flew a Sptifire in 1968, flew a Harrier in the UK before I wrote and published a novel in Canada called Debut for a Spy, but it was sabotaged by mistakes between the publisher and national retailer, didn't have the connections to get an agent in the US, yadayadayada. You've heard it all before. Right now I'm teaching music in Thailand since I'm 77 and you can't work in Canada at that age, but that's another story.
I'm a confirmed fan now! Cheers,
Harry Currie August 24, 2008

"How do you do, Mr. Coonts.
"Here's Mike Shklyarenko, Russian B757 pilot, ex-AF. Once you sent me subscribed copy of THE MINOTAUR.
"Well, about a week ago I've finished to read your FINAL FLIGHT and now I'm deep in your THE RED HORSEMAN. You write amazing! But! I'm sorry but I have to point you to some mistakes or errors.
"Il-76 and An-12 have different construction of cargo doors, though both of them are three-sectional. An-12 has one (aft) section that goes up and two(fwd) that goes inward, Ilyushin has one central, going up and two side sections that goes OUTWARD.
>"Next, in THE RED HORSEMAN, first thing that caught eye -- Russian names: Yakovlev, but not Yakolev, Demidov but not Demodov, Sergey but not Sergi, and at least Zvezdnyi or Zvezdin but not Zvezdni. Most Russian names ends with -ov, -ev, -in, some , with Ukranian origin have -ko, -yuk, -uk at the end and with Belarus origin have some -skiy,-ovich ends.
"Then, by the way, when did Napoleon came into Russia? I think it was warm, 'cause Borodino battle was in September 1812, but he RAN OFF in winter.
"Some words about soldiers' barracks. Maybe somewhere there are like you described, but I never saw like that, I mean with wood beds, there were so many iron beds in Army that it was enough to feed ALL USSR with them. Sure they're simple, iron frame, some springs and iron net. But nevertheless...
"About "Flat tops", 5 store panel apartment buildings -- I've spent in this kind of apartment 5 years as a child and 3 years as officer. When there are no other place to live -- these flat tops appears like penthouses.
"People. You are accustomed to live in really good conditions and you have more than 200 years democracy. This country accustomed to Tsar, or, in common, One Person, One Leader, Tiran, Dictator, as you like. They, people, like when That On The Throne uses his power and f**k them. But, they are happy, 'cause they don't know that there are another way to live.
"And even after all this I can tell you that our people, I mean Americans and Russians, have A LOT in common, I felt it when I was in USA. The same way in mentality, maybe it's due to great dimensions of country. I want to tell you that I didn't mean to offend you in any way, just to help, 'cause in this condition it will be almost impossible to issue your book here, and I want more Americans understand Russia better..." --Michael A. Shklyarenko, June 23, 1998.

"I am not an avid reader by any stretch. My bookshelves are full of half-read novels. Even when I complete a book, it will often take months. Well, I just finished THE RED HORSEMAN in less than a week. The same was true for UNDER SIEGE, THE MINOTAUR, FINAL FLIGHT, and FLIGHT OF THE INTRUDER. I have never written to an author, nor have I ever felt compelled to do so. The worst part of your books is that they eventually end. I have never enjoyed an author's works like I enjoy yours....I was not aware that you wrote THE RED HORSEMAN. I figured you would devote your time to full-time skiing in Boulder. I can't explain the joy I felt at seeing THE RED HORSEMAN at my bookstore....I suppose my main purpose in writing you is to thank you. Thank you for writing in an extremely readable style. Thank you for not retiring after UNDER SIEGE. I am grateful that you climbed out of the cockpit of an A-6 and into my living room. Please visit frequently. --Tom White

"...I am a legal secretary for a law firm her in Indianapolis, and when I am not working, I am reading...I read mostly for enjoyment and escape from the day and all the goings-on, and I find it very relaxing to curl up with one of your books." --Molly Brooke