jammers, direct command post to make a transcript of the radio transmissions. 'Sands stared out the boom window into the inky blackness. 'I'll file it in my usual timely, efficient manner,Chr(34)+ you old bastard,' Sands muttered.
'And I'll be there to watch you roast on a spit.
'So what's the news?' Elliott asked Ormack. The co-pilot had just got off the interphone with McLanahan, coordinating the distances, altitudes, and fuel flows. Elliott had just finished a five-minute stint on the firefighting oxygen mask and had done a.station check of the cockpit and left and right load central I circuit breaker panels, the two massive walls of circuit breakers and fuses lining the pressure cabin between the ilot's and defensive operator's compartments. He had also checked for fuel leaks around the air refueling valve in the upper deck walkway.
'Want the good news or bad news first?' McLanahan asked him.
'Better give me the bad news first.'
'We are some sixty thousand pounds short of fuel,' Ormack said.
Elliott had no answer to that one. The enormous quantity involved…
'Eighteen thousand of that, of course, was the left outboard drop tank,' Ormack went on. 'I Put some fuel in the left inboard drop and left outboard wing tanks during refueling, but there's a serious leak in both those tanks and it's almost goneabout fifteen thousand pounds.
I transferred the rest into the mains to keep from losing it all.
There might also be a small leak in the right outboard tank, which happened when we hit the hangar. Our automatic fuel management system is now out the porthole until the right drop tank and outboards are dry.
That's why we have so much rudder trim in-the right wing is twenty-one tons heavier than the left.'
'Sixty thousand pounds short,' Elliott muttered. 'Two hours' fuel.
Well, what's the good news?'
'I've been looking at the aeronautical charts on board,' McLanahan began. 'There are some civil aviation airways from Alaska to Japan that cross very close to the Kamchatka peninsula. 'Elliott said, as Ormack pulled out his copy of the high-altitude navigation chart from his publications bin. 'The Russians can't completely close off their airspace, even their air defense identification zone. But we'd need a flight plan to enter that airway. If we just appear out of nowhere we'll get intercepted for sure.
'But they won't see us Ormack asked, 'How can they miss us?That air-way is Wendy Tork said.
only he measured the distance with a pencil about a hundred and twenty miles from their radar.'
'Well, Seattle Center couldn't see us at that same distance.
Remember, they only had a secondary beacon target on us, on our transponder. And I'd guess that Seattle's radar is better than a Siberian one. Our fibersteel skin has already proved itselfLos Angeles Center couldn't see us after we launched out of Dreamland, and we were right in the middle of their airspace.'
'But we've somehow got to jump into their coastline,' Ormack said.
'How do we do that?'
'Dave and I have been doing some wagging on the computer down here,' McLanahan said, 'and here's what we've come up with… there's an island off the east coast of the Kamchatka peninsula, midway between Kavaznya to the north and the sub pens at Petropavlovsk to the south.
It's pretty big and has an airfield-if I'm not mistaken they've got sub communications gear there.
'Beringa,' Dave said, pointing to his high-altitude map.
'They've got a circle around it that looks like surveillance radar only. No high-altitude coverage. 'He went back to his work on the computer terminal.
'Beringa island,' McLanahan took it up, 'is right in a gap in high-altitude radar coverage between Ossora Airfield near Kavaznya and Petropavlovsk. It's also only a few miles off the high-altitude airway between Anchorage and Japan. We can head toward that gap, cut just to the south of surveillance radar coverage at Beringa, and still be at high altitude all the way Once we get inside high-altitude radar coverage, we'll only be about seventeen minutes from the coast. We duck under high altitude radar and then get into the mountains along the spine of the Kamchatka peninsula. If we stay away from Beringa radar, the lowest we'll have to go is about five thousand feet until we get into Kavaznya low-altitude surveillance radar coverage.'
'Did you work out the fuel for a plan like that?' Elliott asked.
Yes, ' Luger told him, 'and it's close. We'd never make it back to Eielson, that's for sure. We'd barely make it back across the Bering Strait, but we'd do it. 'I hope, he added to himself.
Ormack looked at Elliott, who shrugged. 'Looks like one of those ice-bound alternates will have to do,' he said.
'We do have another problem,' Luger said, checking the computer display again. 'The computer doesn't have elevation data for any of the Kamchatka peninsula except for about a hundred miles around Kavaznya.
That means that most of the ride up the mountain ranges would be either at safe-clearance attitudes or manual terrain-avoidance. That's a pretty wild ride even for our experienced crew. We're good, but good enough for two hours of manual terrain-following?We have no detailed charts, no terrain elevations. We'd be relying on radar the whole way until the Computer could start driving the boat.'
'Well,' Elliott said, 'now I know why we brought two navigators along.
Do you think you could have come up with all that so fast, John?'
Ormack shook his head. 'Not with all the computers in Japan, General.' 'well, we've got the gas, and now we've got a plan.
Patrick, Dave, how long will it take you to reenter your new flight plan in the computer?'
In reply, the steering bug on the pilot's Attitude-Directional Indicator swung around until it was pointing about twenty degrees left of their present heading. 'Steering is good to intercept the airway,' Luger asked. 'The new flight plan is entered and active.'
'Are we clear of Attu airspace?' Elliott asked.
'Affirmative,' McLanahan said, checking his chart and the satellite navigator's present position readout. 'Attu is off our lour o'clock, just over a hundred miles. We're in international airspace.
'Second-station computer control coming in,' Elliott said.
He engaged the autopilot. The Old Dog banked left in response to the new information to the navigation computers, and the ming signals.
Soon the heading bug was centered at the top of the heading indicator case.thin high radar coverage of Ossora Airfield in 'We'll be wild about an hour,' Luger reported 'Good,' Elliott said. He forced himself to relax and found that his grip on the yoke was that much tighter.
'If there are any last-minute equipment checks to do, now's the time to do them. If not, try to get some rest. 'Ormack looked across at the three-star general beside him, and they exchanged smiles.
'Well, at least try to relax,' Elliott corrected himself.
Luger checked the position and heading readouts and marked a fix point on his chart.''Relax,Chr(34)+ he says. Better said to the target-a target in goddamned Russia-and he than done. Less than an hour from low level, about two hours wants us to He glanced over at McLanahan. His partner had his arms wrapped around his body, his head awkwardly lying back on the headrest of his ejection seat. His snoring could be clearly heard over the roar of the Old Dog's eight turbofan engines.
'Amazing,' he said, shaking his head in disbelief. 'Absolutely fuckin' amazing.'
'Ten minutes from horizon crossing,' Luger announced.
McLanahan had just caught Luger's last announcement as he plugged into the defense instructor's interphone cord once again. He handed Wendy and Angelina two cans of water each and a green packet of freeze-dried food. 'Leave one can out for now, and stick the rest in the pockets in the liner of your jackets. 'He watched as both women unbuckled their parachute harnesses. They were now wearing life preservers, small green pouches on a harness on their waists, and had to unbuckle those to unzip their jackets and stuff the water and food into the jacket pockets.
Angelina's water and food rations stuck out in bulky bulges from her denim jacket. With McLanahan's help she refastened her parachute harness and slipped on the silver firefighting gloves she was using as flight gloves. Wendy had already given Angelina her thermal underwear tops and was drinking hot soup made in the cup downstairs. Angelina, however, still shivered in the chill of the Old Dog's upper cabin 'Comfy?' McLanahan said to Angelina. 'I hope you ladies don't have to go potty now.
Angelina turned on him. 'Are we supposed to eat this stuff in a life raft bobbing in the North Pacific Ocean?
