High Flight

by David Hagberg

  “I know that,” Kennedy replied too sharply. “I know.”

  “There was nothing wrong with our airplane, nor was there anything wrong with the Rolls engines. Sending our AOG teams around the world to switch power plants does nothing but waste money and shake our image.”

  “Something we don’t need just now,” Kilbourne put in.

  “But our airplane did fall out of the sky,” Kennedy said.

  “Yes, it did,” Socrates agreed solemnly. “We looked for evidence of sabotage, but we didn’t find a thing. Sam Varelis says that the Board will probably rule in March that the crash was caused by faulty turbine blades in the port engine. Sir Malcolm wants to disagree, but he’s caught in the middle.”

  “You don’t believe it.”

  “The engine swallowed a blade, but I don’t know why.”

  “We’ve done a fault-tree analysis,” Kennedy said.

  “Nothing showed up.”

  “But you have a gut feeling.”

  Socrates nodded.

  “It shouldn’t affect this airplane, George,” Kennedy said reasonably. “Completely different engines from the frame out.”

  “I know. But the break-in and killing here is one more link in what could be a very big and nasty chain. I sat in on some of your meetings with McGarvey. I talked with him, answered his questions, listened to what he had to say. He’s a very bright man, David, but he’s an alarming man. He’s made me think about things I believed were no longer possible. Hitler is dead. Stalin is dead. Hirohito is dead. And the Cold War is over. We won.”

  “That’s exactly why Al wants this flight to go as advertised. Show them that we’re not about to cave in.” Kennedy shrugged. “There’s nothing wrong with this airplane. If some unk-unks crop up we’ll fix them.”

  “There was nothing wrong with our airplane now lying in ugly piles at Dulles.”

  “It could have been tampered with on the ramp in Moscow by the Russians or by the Japanese, or hell, by someone else with a grudge against Americans. Functioning airplanes don’t crash.”

  “A glitch.”

  “Yes, and that’s something we can’t protect against no matter what the circumstances are, George. Just like clear air turbulence and wind shear used to be major problems.”

  “There would have been an indication,” Socrates said. He was tearing himself apart with this. He was an engineer. Effects had causes—it was axiomatic.

  “There’ll be another big difference between this flight and the one into Dulles.”

  Socrates looked up. “What’s that?”

  “We left Moscow after nothing more than a routine pre-flight. Before this airplane leaves for Honolulu it will have been tested from stern to stern a dozen times. You are personally going to oversee that every single system and subsystem aboard is at or above specs.”

  “What about the engines?” Kilbourne asked.

  “I spoke with Sir Malcolm. He’s sending a team. In fact they ought to be showing up later today. Put them to work.”

  “Who’ll be crewing?”

  “Pete Reiner and John Callahan. Northwest has agreed to loan us fifteen flight attendants.”

  It took a moment for what Kennedy said to sink in, and when it did Kilbourne and Socrates were stunned.

  “What are you talking about?” the engineer demanded.

  “We’ll carry a full load out to Honolulu and back,” Kennedy said evenly. He knew that this was going to be the worst part, especially for Socrates. It’s the reason he met them here. The airplane was an impressive piece of machinery.

  “Engineers, technicians, monitoring equipment?”

  Kennedy shook his head. “Al Vasilanti and his wife. Me and my wife. You two, Fred Taich, Gary Topper, and Larry Cross.”

  “The Vice President of the United States?”

  “Yes. Along with Tom Holder and most of his House Subcommittee on Aviation, a few senators, a couple of representatives from the FAA, the news media, of course, and the Russian ambassador.”

  “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” Kilbourne said in awe. “Al has lost his mind.”

  “We’re trying to run an airplane company, Newton,” Kennedy flared. “America may be painted on the fuselage, but our name is stamped on the airframe. We’ve bet the farm on this project, and it either works big or we go under. It’s come down to that.”

  “Somebody wants us to fail,” Socrates said.

  “That’s right,” Kennedy agreed. “That’s why we hired McGarvey.”

  “They’ll be targeting this flight.”

  “I have no doubt of it, George,” Kennedy said evenly. “Which is why we’ve got to do it.”

  “Every passenger and crew member will have to be screened electronically, their baggage searched.”

  “The Vice President will be aboard so I’m sure the Secret Service will help out.”

  “Okay. If Reiner and Callahan are available now, I want them to fly all the test flights. The first one goes the day after tomorrow, and I’ll schedule four others before the Honolulu flight.”

  “I’ll have them out here tomorrow,” Kennedy said. “They might as well be involved with your pre-flights.”

  Socrates turned to Kilbourne. “I want your people down here along with Fred Taich’s shop. We’re going on around-the-clock shifts starting now.”

  “Make it fly, George,” Kennedy said.

  Socrates looked at him. “That I will. And the day she returns from Honolulu is the day I retire.”

  “In a few minutes my driver and bodyguard will take me over to the Kremlin where I will be expected to give my recommendation. Do we retaliate against Japan for the sinking of our frigate, and if so, what form shall this retaliation assume?”

  General Polunin handed a series of photographs to SUR Director Karyagin. “These are the latest RORSAT shots over the Tokara Strait and East China Sea, including the island of Tanegashima.”

  Karyagin studied the photos and then put them aside. “There has been no battle between the American destroyer and the Japanese submarine?”

  “Not yet. Apparently the Thorn received orders from Seventh Fleet to stand aside and allow the Samisho passage through the strait.”

  “It looks as if the Thorn was also ordered to follow the submarine.”

  “That’s what we think, Mr. Director. But look at the Japanese air base on Tanegashima. Photographs six and seven.”

  Karyagin looked at the two pictures. “A lot of activity.”

  “Too much activity. The base is on alert, as are the Japanese Air and Maritime Self Defense Forces on Hokkaido in the north.”

  “It’s not unexpected, General. The Japanese are aware that we may make some response.”

  “Agreed, Mr. Director, which explains their state of readiness on Hokkaido. But why Tanegashima in the south? Those are waters they share with South Korea, not us.”

  “What are you getting at?” Karyagin asked. He was annoyed by Polunin’s continued preoccupation with conspiracy theories.

  “I’m suggesting that we proceed with a great deal of caution until we’re absolutely certain we have all the facts. There is simply too much going on that we cannot explain. Even Abunai is telling us that the situation in Japan is explosive at the moment.”

  “Apparently he’s produced no hard intelligence for us,” Karyagin complained sharply.

  “That’s because of the increased risks he’s facing. But I’m told that he is on the verge of gaining access to the Kobe Bank zaibatsu’s confidential meeting records. Something may turn up soon. But if we accelerate the situation by attacking a Japanese warship or ground installation, there is no predicting what will happen.”

  “You must know that there is a strong sentiment at the Kremlin to make a show of force.”

  “At the very least the American government would probably revoke its license for Guerin to export aircraft technology to us, and certainly the loan guarantees would be lifted.”

  “Which is why, General, I was asked to help devise a
plan so that any attack we might make against Japan would seem to be self-defense. The Americans still have the cowboy mentality.”

  “Have we developed such a plan?”

  “The Defense Ministry may have something. What else have you brought to help brighten my day?”

  “The FBI has begun its investigation of Kirk McGarvey, as we expected it would, given the information that was made available to it. But it seems possible that the CIA is cooperating with the FBI. If that’s true, it may mean that McGarvey is not working for the Agency after all.”

  “He works for Guerin Airplane Company, as he claims?”

  “It seems more likely now than it did before.”

  “But the CIA is cooperating with McGarvey?”

  “He still has friends at Langley, Mr. Director. But the FBI is apparently taking its investigation in a direction that never occurred to us.”

  “Continue,” Karyagin said dourly.

  “It may be attempting to tie McGarvey to a series of murders in Washington and California and Oregon centering around Guerin and the company’s troubles with the Japanese. The issue that McGarvey asked us to help with.”

  “Do they actually suspect the man of working for the Japanese?”

  “I don’t know that yet.”

  “But it’s information that you will get?”

  Polunin nodded. He could see that a veil had been lifted from Karyagin’s eyes. The director was beginning to understand just how powerful a sword and shield the SUR still wielded.

  “Should I know this source, General?”

  “Like Abunai there is no reason for you not to know the name of our penetration network in Washington.”

  Karyagin shook his head. “And no reason other than my own ego at this moment for me to know.”

  Polunin was surprised. It was quite an admission for someone to make, especially a Russian and especially a man in Karyagin’s position.

  “No, sir.”

  “But there is something else you have to tell me. I can see it in your eyes.”

  “We learned that McGarvey spoke with someone from Japan Air Lines in Washington a few days ago and that now he has shown up in Tokyo.”

  “McGarvey is in Tokyo?” Karyagin sat back. “What is he doing there? Have Abunai find out.”

  “We’ve sent those instructions, Mr. Director, but it may take a little while to learn anything significant. It is precisely why I think you should warn the Kremlin to slow down.”

  “General, that puts me in a very difficult position.”

  “Yes, sir, I know it.”

  It was the first time the four of them had sat down together to have a meal at the farmhouse. Glen Zerkel stir-fried some thinly sliced beef marinated in soy sauce, along with some julienned vegetables, and served it with cooked rice. He’d also baked bread and made a salad of cucumbers, tomatoes, and onions dressed with lemon juice, yogurt, and garlic. It was quite good, and Reid, who for once wasn’t drunk, complimented him on the meal.

  “You learn to make do when you live alone,” Glen explained.

  “I never did,” his brother complained. “I think I’ll miss this. When we’re finished, I mean.” He glanced at Mueller.

  “It’ll be easier than we thought,” the German told them. Over the Zerkels’ protests he’d waited until Reid came out to tell them what he’d learned. “I’ll need seven repeaters—and as it turns out the size isn’t as critical as we thought it might be. But I’m going to need a way of shunting a closed-circuit television system so that the monitors won’t detect what’s been done and will leave no traces when I remove it.”

  “Seven is a very specific number,” Reid said.

  “Oakland, Los Angeles, Chicago, Minneapolis, both New York City airports, and Dulles here.”

  “Potentially that’s a lot of airplanes.” Reid looked at his plate. “A lot of people will die.” He got up and poured himself a stiff shot of Irish whiskey, drank it down, poured another, and came back to the table.

  “It’s up to you. But Japan will take the blame.”

  “It might backfire, make Guerin stronger.”

  “Again, it is up to you, Reid. But if this is done correctly, and we bring down seven or more Guerin airplanes, it will take investigators a long time to figure out how it happened. In the meantime the company’s stock will certainly become nearly worthless, and you as a very loyal American who still believes in America for Americans will step in and help save the company. When the signals are finally traced back to the Japanese, you will become twice the hero.”

  No one said a thing.

  Mueller turned to Louis. “Can you do that?”

  Louis’s head bobbed nervously. “Not this instant. I need more time. A week, maybe two. But I can do anything, including that trick you want with the closed-circuit TVs.”

  “I’ll tell you something else,” Mueller said, turning again to a subdued Reid. “When this happens it will have to be nothing less than stunning. Unprecedented. So horrifying that it will be the single worst event in America’s history.”

  “Christ …” Reid said softly.

  “Isn’t it what you want?” Mueller asked. “Isn’t that why you gathered us here? Isn’t this your invention?”

  “I’m still an American.”

  “Yes?” Mueller smiled. “Then pay us and we shall walk away now.”

  Reid looked up out of his sudden anguish. “The Japanese would win.”

  “So what? You’re an old man, even if you begin squandering your money immediately you couldn’t spend it all before you died. We can walk away from this insanity. Can you?”

  Mueller wondered if he could take his fee and turn his back on this project as he’d told Reid he could. He expected it wouldn’t be terribly difficult. It wasn’t his fight or his cause. He felt no compelling emotions for the plan, although he admitted to himself that he would miss the excitement of causing all those deaths. But it wasn’t important to him one way or the other.

  The Zerkels were talented sociopaths. Geniuses. But Reid was becoming troublesome because of his drinking, and because he had a conscience. He would self-destruct whether or not they went ahead. He would not live much longer, and he probably knew it.

  Mueller smiled. “If you want me to continue, I will give you an account number in a Channel Islands bank. Within twenty-four hours you will deposit one million dollars in that account. It’s up to you.”

  Reid drained the rest of his drink. “I’ll take care of it first thing in the morning.”

  “What do you think about that?” Louis Zerkel said.

  TWENTY-ONE

  Asagiri Eto refused to discuss exactly who he represented, agreeing that McGarvey needed at least the day and overnight to recover from the effects of jet lag.

  “Japan can be a strenuous country for someone new. Please forgive my impatience. Business can wait until morning.”

  It was midnight when they emerged from the Club Shin-Oki in the Asakusa District a half-dozen blocks from McGarvey’s hotel. The evening was cool, but not unpleasantly so, and because of the hour the streets were nearly deserted. This area was Tokyo’s oldest section, and unlike the glitzy uptown Ginza area, Asakusa closed down at night. The narrow streets were dark, the arcades, shops, stalls, artist studios, and restaurants shuttered until morning.

  “I’ll expect you at my hotel at 8:00 sharp,” McGarvey said. “I will have had my breakfast, and I’ll be ready to conduct my business. Do you understand my English, Mr. Eto?”

  “Perfectly, Mr. McGarvey.”

  “It was my understanding that I would not be meeting with Japan Air Lines, but with another interested party.”

  “That is the case.”

  McGarvey stared coldly at the man. “Who will I be meeting?”

  “I’m not at liberty to tell you that.”

  McGarvey stepped in closer so that he clearly made the Japanese uncomfortable. “I’m not here to play fucking games, pal, if you’re still catching my English. I came to discu
ss a business deal that could be worth billions of dollars to your principals.”

  “Worth the existence of the corporation you work for,” Eto said, suddenly matching McGarvey’s coldness. His eyes looked reptilian, their lids hooded, their expression unreadable.

  “There are other willing trading partners.”

  “You came to us.”

  “Yes,” McGarvey said. “And Mr. Yamagata was receptive, even though he knows who and what I am. And why I was hired by Guerin Airplane Company. Don’t make me an enemy of Japan, Eto-san.”

  “You already are the enemy.”

  “All right.” McGarvey nodded and stepped back. “So fuck you. I’m withdrawing my offer. No negotiations. I’ll book the first flight out.”

  For a moment Eto was caught flat-footed, but then his face began to fall apart. “No,” he said.

  “No, what?”

  “Mr. McGarvey, I was not sent to antagonize you. Just the opposite. My role is simply to arrange a meeting between you and my principal.”

  “Who is this man or men?”

  “In the morning … you will have to trust me.”

  McGarvey allowed a faint smile to curl the corners of his mouth. “Is that right?”

  Again Eto was flustered. “We are interested in a cooperative venture with Guerin Airplane Company. You, acting as its representative, came as a surprise. We were not prepared. We thought it would be someone else. The company’s business counsel, or perhaps their chief financial officer.”

  “Were you expecting Guerin to come to you?”

  “No, not exactly.”

  “Quit jacking me around here. You haven’t told me a thing all night, but Yamagata practically dropped his teeth when I showed up in his Washington office. He suggested that I come to Tokyo, and when I stalled him he came out to Portland. My idea was to speak to someone in Washington from JAL, to see if the airline was interested in principle in doing business with us. If it was, we would send a negotiating team over to explore the possibilities. Something like this is not put together overnight.”

  “You are also dealing with Moscow.”