Delta Green - [22]

“Roger. Checklist coming up.”

Munoz put the checklist on the rearview screen and read it off quickly.

The rocket motors ignited smoothly, and McKenna used sixty-five percent power to accelerate to Mach 2.2, climbing to an altitude of 63,000 feet.

He left Munoz alone as the WSO studied the terrain on the screen, cutting in the video tape any time something suspicious appeared.

“Shutting down rockets,” he said.

Pulling the rocket power levers back past their detents, he watched the readouts. The starboard motor came quickly to zero, the igniter cut off, and the anti-blowback valve position displayed as closed. The CO2 pressure in the pellet tank measured 10,294 PSI.

The port motor power readout came slowly down to twelve percent. And stayed there.

The igniter remained operative.

The anti-blowback valve remained open.

McKenna jiggled the throttle handle.

Still twelve percent power on the motor, and nearly eleven thousand PSI of pressure in the tanks, feeding the pellets to the combustion chamber.

“Tiger.”

“I see it, jefe. Anti-blowback valve’s stuck open. The interlock is keepin’ the igniter on.”

“I’m going to try the emergency valve shut down.”

“Go.”

McKenna had to lean to his right and shift his shoulders in order to tilt his helmet enough to see the circuit breaker panels on the left side. He found the correct switch and closed it.

“No change, compadre. We’ve got us a real stuck valve.” Already, he was having to balance the power on the left side against the drag on the right by correcting with the rudders.

He ran the power lever forward.

No change.

“We ever run a simulation on this before, Tiger?”

“Nothin’ like it, Snake Eyes. Everythin’ we guessed could happen was power loss at critical moments. This is power on at an uncritical moment.”

McKenna pulled the nose up, to keep the speed from building up on him.

“We’ve got several choices, Tiger.”

“I’ve been flashin’ on them. One, we can just burn off the fuel load, but that’ll leave us way out of balance — five thousand pounds in the starboard tanks. And at one-two per cent, it’ll take over an hour.”

“The slow combustion may also, clog the rocket nozzle.”

“That happens, we’ll get a pressure buildup in the combustion chamber.”

“Which we don’t want,” McKenna said.

“At least I don’t. Maybe I’ll call Mitchell.” “Why don’t you do that?”

USSC-1

Strapped into her cubicle office, Amy Pearson reviewed the photo and dossier scrolling down her screen. General Vitaly Sheremetevo had once been the Deputy Commander in Chief of the Red Air Force. He was sixty-two years of age, with well-deserved gray hair. Under the new regime, he had been recognized as a patriot, and he retained his responsibility for the Protivo-vozdushnaya Oborona (PVO Strany), the largest air defense force in the world. The PVO had over five thousand early-warning radars, twenty-five hundred interceptor aircraft, and fifty thousand surface-to-air missiles at its disposal. Ostensibly, it reported to the Commonwealth, but many of the republics were claiming ownership of parts of the command.

Donna Amber’s voice came over the intercom. “I’ve got a connection for you, Colonel. Channel four.”

“Thank you, Donna.” Pearson tapped the pad for channel four. “General Sheremetevo?”

“Yes, Colonel Pearson.”

“I would like you to know, General, that I have permission from General Marvin Brackman to speak with you. If you would like, I can have him call you to confirm that.”

“I do not believe that will be necessary, Colonel. How may I help you?”

“I have some questions regarding Colonel Pyotr Volontov’s 5th Interceptor Wing.”

The Red Air Force’s 5th Interceptor Wing had been allied with the 1st Aerospace Squadron during the New Germany crisis and had performed exceptionally well.

“Yes?” Sheremetevo said. “Go ahead.”

“After our… joint venture, the United States Department of Defense approved the sale of two Mako aerospace craft to your country for use with the wing. They are still operational, of course.”

She knew they were.

“Very much so, Colonel. And Colonel Volontov is quite pleased with them. Though naturally not as pleased as he might have been with the stealthy version.”

“Yes, I understand that,” she said. McKenna had told her about Volontov.

“We have assured both the United States and the United Nations of the peaceful mission assigned to the Mako, both before and after the changes in our national administration,” Sheremetevo told her.

“I do not have doubts in that regard, General. Rather, I would like to know the names of the pilots who have trained in the Mako, in addition to their current assignments.”

“May I inquire as to why?”

“I would prefer not to say at this time,” Pearson said. “General Brackman would be a far better source.”

After only a moment’s hesitation, Sheremetevo said, “I will talk with Colonel Volontov and then call you back.”

Chapter Five

DELTA BLUE

Lieutenant Colonel Bradley Mitchell, Beta One, was Chief of Maintenance for the 1st Aerospace Squadron fleet. He considered every Mako and MakoShark to be his exclusive property, merely on loan to their flight crews and the United States Air Force. Of course, every maintenance section member, enlisted or commissioned, felt the same way. If the craft were ever divided among their owners, no one would have much. Except Master Sergeant Benny Shalbot, maybe. The electronics specialist was meaner than many of his co-owners.