Brown, Dale - Patrick McLanahan 02 (59 page)

 
          
“Well,
the lightbulb has finally come on,” Maraklov said. Tret’yak obviously did not
understand, but Maraklov’s tone of voice was clear. “While your interceptors
were being suckered away you left DreamStar wide open for attack. Here’s
another news flash for you, General—they’ll be back. They no doubt transmitted those
pictures back to
Washington
, and they’re being analyzed right now. You can expect a second wave of
fighters in a few hours—and this time they won’t just be carrying cameras. I
know them. You have four MiG-29 fighters to counter a whole squadron of F-15
^or
F/A-18 fighter-bombers—”

 
          
“We
will be ready for them, I assure you—”

 
          
“Never
mind assurances, DreamStar is too vulnerable. We’re in real danger of losing
it. After all I’ve done to get it here. It will take your workers another
twelve hours to finish the refit, plus who knows how many to get her ready to
fly.”

           
“We can transfer forces from
Managua
to Sebaco and other coastal bases to
provide longer-range coverage—”

           
“You’re talking about the damned
Nicaraguan air force as if it was a real defensive force.” Judging by the
expression on Tret’yak’s face, Maraklov could tell the Soviet general agreed
with him. “They might be good for providing a way for the Americans to deplete
their missiles, but if you rely on the Nicaraguans to defend Sebaco . . .”

 
          
He
did not need to finish the sentence—Tret’yak had finished it for him. They had
MiG-29 fighters at Sebaco because Tret’yak did not trust the Nicaraguans to
protect it. It would be a tactical nightmare to bring Nicaraguan pilots to
Sebaco. Few of them spoke Russian, few spoke English, and few had trained for
longer than a month or two with their Russian counterparts. Maraklov was
right—they were good for little more than target practice for the Americans.

 
          
“I
understand, Colonel,” Tret’yak said, “but if an attack comes we must deal with
it with the resources we have. I will contact my headquarters and request
additional defensive forces from
Cuba
. Perhaps some diplomatic pressure can be
applied as well. Meanwhile, the refit of the aircraft will proceed. I will call
in all shifts to increase our pace.”

KGB Headquarters,
Dzerzhinsky
Square
,
Moscow

Friday, 19 June 1996
, 1858 EET (1058 EDT)

 
          
Viktor
Kalinin crumpled the dispatch in his hand. His senior aide, Kevi Molokov, stood
by as the KGB chief swiveled in his chair and stared at a map of
Central America
that had been set up near his desk. “The
Americans have just flown an F-15 fighter bomber aircraft over the exact spot
where the experimental aircraft is being stored. Tret’yak believes the Americans
now have detailed, incontrovertible evidence that their aircraft is in
Nicaragua
. Tret’yak ends his message with an
observation from Maraklov that the Americans may attack at any time.”

 
          
“Sir,
I think General Tret’yak is overreacting,” Molokov said. “The
United States
will not take direct military action.”

 
          
“You
seem so sure. Yet they sent an F-15 fighter right into the Nicaraguan and
General Tret’yak’s forces.”

 
          
“That
was foreseeable, sir. I would have expected a high- altitude reconnaissance
aircraft, such as their SR-71 or TR-i aircraft, but I am sure they did that for
show. If they were really serious about retrieving their aircraft, they have a
carrier in
Puerto
Rico
that could
have been moved into the area by now. That carrier is still in port. They could
have sent a squadron of fighter-bombers to destroy the aircraft on the ground,
but they sent one aircraft, apparently only to take photographs. If they were
going to mount an offensive it would have followed immediately.”

 
          
“I
almost wish the damn plane
had
been
bombed,”
Kalinin
said. “The XF-34 is slipping out of our
grasp, Kevi. It’s fortunate that the American government is denying the entire
incident—no pressure on our government has been applied yet.” Yet. . .

 
          
“We
need Maraklov to fly the plane out of
Nicaragua
before real pressure begins,” Molokov said.
“Once the aircraft is in our hands we can control events.”

 
          
“But
I can’t stand by waiting for the dam to burst,”
Kalinin
said, slapping the table with the palm of
his hand. “I want a way to stop an American offensive
before
it begins. Never mind that
you
think they’re not going to start one.”

 
          
“That
would mean exposing the Central Committee,” Molokov said. “Only they can
initiate any direct dealings with the American government.”

 
          
Kalinin
paused, considering his aide’s words. “We
just may be able to bypass the Central Committee. To a degree, at least . . .”

 
          
“I
am sure it is possible, sir, but can you take that chance? It would mean a
major breach of procedure—”

 
          
“It’s
time to reach out,”
Kalinin
said cryptically. “Be sure I have two secure communications lines open
all evening.” “Yes, sir, they are open now. But who can you possibly contact
that has the authority to act in so little time?”

           
“This government’s golden boy. He is
in a perfect position to influence the Americans. Whether he will cooperate
with us depends—if he has any skeletons in his closet. I believe a call from
KGB headquarters will be enough to get his attention. It is time to see if this
star performer also has reason for a guilty conscience.”

The White House Conference
Room

Friday, 19 June 1996
, 1605 EDT

 
          
General
Elliott watched as the President, Deborah O’Day, Wilbur Curtis, William Stuart
and Richard Benson viewed the replay of Cheetah’s sortie over
Nicaragua
. He had had an opportunity to see the tape
as it was received via satellite from Dreamland after decoding, and it reminded
Elliott of films shot from the first car on a roller-coaster. The viewers were
twisting and squirming in their seats as it unfolded.

 
          
“This
is the forward view,” Elliott explained, “as the aircraft approached Sebaco.
The F-15’s under attack from an SA-10 surface-to-air missile site. There—you
can just barely see the missile as it misses.” The huge missile could be seen
easily, and Elliott watched the viewers cringe and even move to the left as the
missile shot by, missing by only a few yards.

 
          
“The
aircraft is now approaching Sebaco. As you can see, the base is not very large
but its facilities are extensive. Here—you can see an anti-aircraft gun
emplacement that we have identified as an older version of the standard S-60
air-defense weapon. Our aircraft has come up on the base so fast there wasn’t
enough time for the Soviets to get this S-60 into position. Both the SA-10 and
S-60 are fairly old systems. The Soviets throw nothing away.”

 
          
The
scene shifted to a side-looking image, with forests and hills going by in a
blur. “This imagery has been slowed down fifty percent—we’ll slow it down even
more in a moment. Our aircraft is at Mach one—about seven hundred eighty miles
an hour.” The trees thinned out as the first few signs of the runway
environment came into view, but the most spectacular sight was the buildings
and other structures racing by—all towering over the F-15. Elliott slowed the imagery
down by half again as he continued:

 
          
“We
are now looking out the left-side camera of the F-15, at the rows of hangars
and buildings just off the flight line at Sebaco. We will replay the image
without magnification at first. Here—take a look at this hangar.”

 
          
Even
without increased magnification the sight was obvious—it was the XF-34 parked
inside the hangar. “It’s unmistakable—this is DreamStar. Notice the
forward-swept wings, the canards with the trailing edges pointing downward, the
chin intake, the slanted vertical stabilizers. This is what the crew saw on
their first pass. Now I’ll let the film go for the rest of the pass.”

 
          
In
normal speed the scene suddenly swung down out of view, revealing only sky and
treetops—mostly treetops, since the fighter was still very low. The scene then
shifted back to the forward camera, and Elliott could see Benson grabbing his
chair’s armrests as treetops skittered past the bottom half of the screen. The
image then centered on the hangar again— and remained centered on it. They did
not see the top of the hangar. The field of view was centered precisely on the
aircraft inside. Their eyes widened as the mouth of the hangar raced forward.
It seemed to engulf the entire screen. The needle nose of the XF-34 was aimed
right at them. It seemed impossible that the fighter could turn away in time—

 
          
The
hangar disappeared, to be replaced by a rearward shot as the F-15 sped a few
feet above the hangar—they could see antennae and even birds’ nests on the
hangar roof. The image revolved once, and trees rushed up again, snapping and
whipping around in the fury of the fighter’s wingtip vortices.

 
          
Attorney
General Benson was the first to get out a word.
“That
was unbelievable. Who was that pilot?”

 
          
“One
of my best test pilots. He flies photographic chase missions against the XF-34.
He was the one who almost shot down DreamStar over
Mexico
.”

 
          
“He
must have a death wish,” William Stuart said. “Or else he’s completely nuts.
How could you let him fly this mission? Wasn’t he reprimanded by General Kane?”

 
          
“I
needed the best pilot for this job. There was no final decision on a reprimand,
and I needed him. Considering his performance today I believe he’s in line for
a commendation.” The President was still blinking from what he had just seen.
“I’m very impressed, General Elliott. It certainly sent a message to the
Soviets . . . There’s no doubt that your DreamStar fighter is in
Nicaragua
. What do you think they’re going to do with
it?”

 
          
Elliott
pressed a button on his remote control. The recon- pod imagery rewound to a
clear view inside the hangar, just before Cheetah dodged skyward. “That’s clear
in this picture, sir. You can see access panels on the sides open, and these
objects here are fuel tanks. We believe they’re modifying DreamStar with
long-range fuel tanks. I believe their objective is to fly it out of
Nicaragua
as soon as possible, maybe to
Cuba
, maybe even to
Russia
.”

           
The President nodded. “Well, for
damn sure they obviously aren’t about to give it back ... I will call a meeting
later this evening with the Russian ambassador and Secretary Danahall. Debbie,
Richard, I’d like you to be there. We need to make an official protest. Let’s
set it for
eight
P.M.
That’ll get the ambassador’s attention.”

 
          
“But
Mr. President,” Elliott cut in, “that won’t stop the Russians. By the time that
meeting is over DreamStar could be on a Soviet-controlled airbase. We have
got
to keep it from leaving
Nicaragua
.”