'What's he doing way the hell over here?'
Beech shrugged. 'Maybe he got lost. Really lost. Maybe he's sightseeing. Joyriding. Some jet jockey with a fake call sign playing fucking Red Rover with the Russians?'
'Well, we'll leave that one to the CIA or the Air Force,' Markham said.
He stood and stretched. 'Send a report to headquarters about this guy.
Advise to obtain positive identified airspace. Suggest a cation before allowing him into Japanes navy or DIA investigation on him when he lands. 'He ran his hands over his expanding belly. 'I'm going to see if they've dreamed up anything new to do with hamburger in the mess.
I'll be upstairs.'called out, sir.
'Lieutenant Ch Baenencehl, Chr(34)+s'evoenneteoefn the radio operators suddenly Beech replaced his headset. After a moment he said Sir, listen to this.'urgently, 'Jonesy, put it on speakers.
The operator flipped a few switches, and soon the room was filled with static. A few moments later a Russian accent boomed, 'Lantern four-five Fox, acknowledge.'
'It's Beringa,' Beech said to Markham.
'Lantern four-five Fox, this is Kommandorskiye Approach Control on GUARD frequency. Urge Soviet airspace. Lantern four five Fox, turn thirty degrees left nt. You are violating immediately and ident. Repeat. You are one- zero-zero kilometers off course and in violation of Soviet airspace. Turn left thirty degrees immediately and ident. 'The warning was then repeated in Russian and in clumsy Chinese.
'One hundred kilometers,' Beech asked. 'What the hell is that guy up to?'
'Whatever,' Markham said, 'he's in deep shit now.'
'Lantern four-five Fox, this is Kommandorskiye Approach on GUARD.I have lost your beacon. Repeat, I have lost your beacon. Check your I.F.F is in NORMAL and squawk ident immediately. You are in violation of Soviet airspace. Identify yourself immediately.'
'That's it,' Markham asked. 'Cancel that last report. Prepare a priority One message for Pacific Fleet headquarters. Say that an unidentified aircraft, presumed American military, has violated Soviet airspace. Give our position and the last reported and estimated position of the aircraft. Soviet intentions are unknown but we expect them to search, intercept and destroy. We do not have any reason to believe that the unknown aircraft has an emergency, but tell them that he may be having navigational difficulties. More details to follow.
I'll have the Captain sign it immediately And get a report ready for the Old Man,' Markham told Beech. 'He's gonna want one fast. I'm going to get permission to send up a radar balloon.'
'We may be able to move closer to his last reported position,' Beech suggested. 'Get on the other side of the Kommandorskiyes. If this guy's in trouble we can-' 'We haven't even established if the son of a bitch is American,' Markham cut in. 'He could be part of some elaborate Russian scheme to pull us away from monitoring Kavaznya.
I'll suggest it, Beech.but I won't recommend it.
Besides, he'd be too far inside Soviet territory for us to do anything.
As his intelligence people hurried to execute his orders, Markham studied the plotting board. In front of him a technician made a series of computations and drew another line, plotting the unknown aircrafts possible location.
'I don't know who you are,' Markham said under his breath, 'but, buddy, you just stirred up one hell of a hornet's nest.
'Call up the next point,' Elliott said. His arms were extended almost straight out from his body, straining to hold the control yoke forward, forcing the Old Dog down toward the dark waters of the north Pacific.
The heading bug swung twenty degrees to the right. As the Old Dog started a right turn to the new computerized heading, Elliott spun the large trim wheel by his right knee forward to help him hold the bomber's nose down-at the current rate of descent and high airspeed, the Megafortress wanted nothing except to zoom skyward.
As he reached for the trim wheel Elliott touched his right knee. The feeling-a tingling sensation, like it was asleep-had still been there a few hours ago, but it was gone now. A ring of pain encircled his thigh midway between his knee and hip like a clamp. A muscle twitched involuntarily on his right buttock. He looked over and saw Ormack carefully watching him.
'Bad?'
'Just watch your damn instruments, John.'
Ormack nodded, not reassured.
Nearly forty years earlier, Elliott recalled, he had hurt that knee falling out of a hayloft on his father's farm. While sitting in the school library, sidelined from the football team, he had read all the books printed on the subject of knee injuries, vitamins to help mending ligaments, special exercises to strengthen muscles.
After the cast came off he nursed the weakened knee back to health in only a few weeks, just in time the state for baseball season. The year his school won championship. He remembered the pride he felt at the time.
Would he be as proud when this was over?
'Will that heading keep us clear of Beringa's radars' 'it should,' Luger asked. 'It'll take us around on a onehundred-twenty-mile arc.'
He checked the altimeter on his front instruments panel.it was spinning down faster than he'd ever seen, like a clock gone haywire.
He was so light in his seat that he had to snatch his charts and pencil in midair to keep them from floating away in the negative Gs. 'Passing twenty-five thousand for-five thousand,' he called out. He was remembering the way Major White's egress trainer back at Ford made his huge mechanical beast dance on its ten-foot hydraulic legs. Well, this was for real-and it was much more than White could ever dream up 'Passing twenty thousand. 'For Air Force Base seemed very, very far away.
'How far were we from your start-descent point, McLanahan?' Ormack asked.
'Still about six minutes.''That long 'I'm surprised,' Luger said, 'that they took to catch us.
Hell, we were almost seventy miles off-course before they called us.'
'Coming up on fifteen thousand,' McLanahan sang out 'Both radar altimeter channels are ready,' Ormack repeated. 'Clearance plane is set to five thousand feet. Autopilc pitch command mode slaved to radar altimeter.'
'Good. 'Elliott flipped switches on his left panel beside his ejection seat. 'Okay, crew, listen up. You now have fit authorization for all defensive measures. Angelina, you have Scorpion missile consent.
Scorpion bay doors are at yo command. Keep your radar transmissions to an absolu minimum. Wendy, you have full jamming authority. If any tracking or guidance signals come up that you think are strong enough to paint us, jam the piss out of them. Patrick, you' now on interceptor watch. Leave navigation to Dave unless he needs help in the mountains.
If Wendy sees any fighters if it looks like they're trying to track us, you've got authority transmit and lock onto them.'
'Passing ten thousand, General,' Luger asked. 'Five thousand to go.
Elliott slowly began to pull back on the yoke and bring the throttles forward from idle to cruise thrust. The roller-coaster descent began to subside. As Luger counted the altitude down, Elliott decreased the descent rate until the Old Dog was leveled off.
'Radar altimeter lock-on,' Ormack announced. He flipped a switch, double-checking the readouts. 'Both radar altimeter channels are ready' 'Autopilot coming on,' Elliott said. He flipped the auto pilot switch on. The Old Dog remained rock-steady at five thousand feet.
Now a pitch computer, slaved to signals from the radar altimeter, would work to keep the Old Dog at a mere five thousand feet above the water.
'Autopilot's engaged,' Elliott confirmed. 'Setting four thousand for a system check. 'He turned the clearance-plane knob down one notch, and the Old Dog started a gentle dive, settling to precisely four thousand feet above the water.
'Resetting five thousand. 'He turned the knob clockwise and the huge bomber started a slow climb back to five thousand 'X, feet.
'Anybody looking for us, Wendy?' Elliott asked.
