by Dale Brown
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 an-
tennae and even birds' nests on the hangar roof. The image re-
volved once, and the trees rushed up again, snapping and
whipping around in the fury of the fighter's wingtip vortices.
304 DALE BROWN
Attorney General Benson was the first to get out a word. -7hat
was unbelievable. Who was that pilot?"
"One of my best test pilots. He flies photographic chase mis-
sions 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 de-
cision on a reprimand, and I needed him. Considering his per-
formance today I believe he's in line for a commendation."
I 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 reconpod
imagery rewound to a clear view. inside the hangar, just before
Cheetah dodged skyward. "That's clear in this picture, sir. You
can see across 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. That'll get the ambas-
sador's attention."
"But Mr. President," Elliott cut in, "that won't stop the Rus-
sians. By the time that meeting is over DreamStar could be on
a Soviet-controlled airbase. We have got to keep it from leaving
Nicaragua. "
"And exactly how am I supposed to manage that? Load up
your F-15 fighter with bombs and destroy that base? Send in the
Marines? Think, General. I can't attack a country that's barely
the size of Arkansas and five times poorer without a damn good
overwhelming reason."
"This has very little to do with Nicaragua, sir. It--
Stuart, still smarting from not being included in the plans on
Cheetah's recon mission over Sebaco, said: "The world won't
DAY OF THE CHEETAH 305
care if we say we're really after Russians. All they'll know is
that we attacked Nicaragua. Your strong-arm tactics would get
this government into deep trouble-"
"All right ' enough," the President said. "It's late. General
Elliott, I'll expect you at the staff meeting tomorrow morning at
eight A. We'll go over the situation then and decide what
next." As Elliott stood, tight-lipped, and headed for the door,
the intercom phone on the President's communications panel be-
side his desk buzzed and he picked it up.
"Hold it, General," the President called out. His eyes wid-
ened with delight. "You're kidding . . . and he's here? Right
now? You bet, Paul. Send him up." The President scanned the
faces around him in the room. "Rewind your tape there, Gen-
eral. Sergei Vilizherchev just arrived. He wants to speak with
US."
"The Russian ambassador is here?" Benson said.
I 'It's just got to be about DreamStar, " Deborah O'Day said.
"But I never expected them to react first. I was figuring on a
world-class stall job if we tried to see him tonight. What are you
going to do, Mr. President?"
"Listen to what he has to say. I assume he wants to talk about
a way out of this. If he tries to deny that they have the aircraft
we'll show him this tape. " He picked up his intercom button
again. "Paul, see if Dennis Danahall is available. If he can be
here, we'll ask Vilizherchev to wait until he arrives."
"Yes, sir.
The President put the phone down. "I hate to admit it, Wil-
bur," he said to Secretary of the Air Force Curtis, "but it looks
like sending that F-15 over Sebaco wasn't such a bad idea. We
seemed to have gotten the Soviets' attention without getting any-
one killed.
"The crew of the Old Dog," Elliott said quietly.
"I accept the reminder," the President said, "but this isn't
the time to be settling a score, General. Right now, we want
your airplane back. Period."
"Sir, I'm sorry, but I think they owe more than DreamStar,"
Elliott said. "A dozen good people are dead, plus the destruction
of the B-52 and the fighters."
"What I want is an end to this whole business," the President
said. "We'll still negotiate for reparations, but to tell the damned
306 DALE BROWN
truth I'll settle for getting back what belongs to us and having
the parties move back to their comers and call this one a draw."
Elliott considered pressing his argument further, but there
seemed no point to it now. He had spent much of the day on the
carpet with the President of the United States after an exhausting
twenty-four hours the da before. He had organized a daylight
recon mission through a heavily defended Soviet base with no
losses, which apparently had forced the Russians to the bargain-
ing table. He had been at it for eighteen hours. He was beat. All
right, maybe it was time to let the big-shots do their thing.
The phone rang again. Vilizherchev had just arrived. Surpris-
ingly, none of the few straggling members of the White House
press corps had picked up on the early evening visit-since Fri-
day was now considered the first day of the three-day weekend,
few reporters hung around in the evening. Secretary of State
Danahall was en route; they would make the ambassador wait
about fifteen minutes until Danahall arrived and could be briefed
on what was going on.
Danahall, partially briefed in his car on the way to the White
House, arrived ten minutes later-Cesare had to give him a jacket
and tie from the contingency closet-the Secretary of State,
working late in his office, looked rumpled. Cesare handed him
the coat as he finished with the tie.
"I was wondering where my jacket had disappeared to,"
Danahall deadpanned. ". . . So Vilizherchev just called the
White House and requested a conference?"
"We figure it has to do with DrearnStar," Richard Benson
said. "General Elliott's group found the aircraft in Nicaragua.
We got ph
otos."
"Brad Elliott's group, eh?" Danahall said with a shake of his
head. "That explains why Vilizherchev is coming out here at
this time of night. What did you do, General-create a new Lake
Nicaragua with some Star Wars neutrino bomb?"
There wasn't time for a reply. The President gave a nod to
Cesare, who went to the formal waiting area and asked the So-
viet ambassador inside.
Sergei Vilizherchev didn't fit the image of the stereotypical
Russian bureaucrat. Young as career diplomats went, in his early
fifties, dark haired, tall and athletic, he wore an Italian-tailored
suit, spoke with a slight, well-trained British accent. Altogether
as polite and correct as could be. A Soviet cookie-duster, or so
DAY OF THE CHEETAH 307
it seemed. It was common knowledge that this man would be
the- next Soviet foreign minister, in a few years, and possibly
could become General Secretary.
Vilizherchev strode up to the head of the conference table,
where the President was seated. Taylor stood just as Vilizher-
chev approached him. The Russian ambassador made a slight
bow before extending his hand.
"Good evening, Mr. President, very nice to see you again,
sir. "
"Dobriy vyechyeer, Mr. Vilizherchev, " the President said in
awkward Russian. If Vilizherchev was amused by the Presi-
dent's attempt, he was careful not to show it.
"Thank you very much, Mr. President. Your Russian is ex-
cellent. You will soon be able to dismiss all your interpreters."
The ambassador shook hands all around and seemed quite at
home in the White House conference room-until he saw Gen-
eral Elliott. Then, for the first time, Vilizherchev looked genu-
inely surprised.
"Good evening, Ambassador Vilizherchev," Elliott said,
extending his hand. "I am-,,
Vilizherchev took his hand as if he was accepting a delicate
china cup. "General Bradley Elliott. It is a pleasure," he said.
He shook hands with Elliott, clasping it firmly as he spoke. "It
is an honor."
"Have we met before, Mr. Ambassador?"
"Your name and reputation are well known in the Soviet
Union, General. I must admit, not always in a friendly fashion,
but they are the short-sighted ones. I assure you, sir, many hold
you in very high regard in my country. We recognize military
genius and patriotism no matter what the nation or politics. "
The man knew how to lay it on, Elliott thought. "Spasiba,
Mr. Ambassador." Cesare motioned to a seat, and the arnbas@
sador sat down. Elliott remained standing.
"You asked to see us, Mr. Ambassador," the President asked.
"From the group assembled here tonight, Mr., President, I
think we all know what the topic of discussion will be. I must,
as I'm sure you can appreciate, strongly protest the overflight of
our military base in Nicaragua by your aircraft. It was, as you
know, a violation of restricted airspace and territorial bounda-
ries, as well as a serious violation of international aviation reg-
ulations.
308 DAIE BROWN
The President glanced at his advisers, looked at Vilizherchev
with an exaggerated expression of confusion. "Ambassador, did
you really come here at this hour to tell us this?"
Vilizherchev smiled, shook his head. Ever engaging, no mat-
ter the mission. "I would not be so impertinent as to waste your
time like that, Mr. President." His accent was so flawless it was
hard to remember that he was a Russian. "That was the official
statement, Mr. President, and the official airspace-violation pro-
test will be sent through the proper government channels for
proc: essing. But I doubt if the pilots on that mission will ever be
identified. No, sir, I have come to relay my goverriment's PO-
sition concerning the incident with the very unusual aircraft."
President Taylor waited, said nothing.
"This is, of course, being recorded," the ambassador said.
"And I understand that such a recording is for confidential use
only, and I agree to the recording if you, sirs, guarantee that it
will not become public and if my office is furnished an unedited
copy of the transcript."
The President nodded. Formalities over, Vilizherchev contin-
ued:
"We have concluded our initial investigation into this matter,
including interviews with the pilot, a reconstruction of the flight
path taken by the pilot, and an examination of the aircraft. We
conclude that a formal, high-level military investigation must be
conducted to discover how the aircraft in question came to arrive
at our installation in Nicaragua, why it is there, and what, if
any, ulterior objectives the pilot may have had. We are asking
your cooperation while our investigation is underway."
As Elliott stared in disbelief at Vilizherchev, Secretary of State
Danahall reacted. "If I may . . . Ambassador, this sounds to
me like your government is saying that you don't know why this
aircraft is on your base, that you don't know the pilot and that
you were all unaware of any aspect of the plan to steal that
air-craft and deliver it to your country. Do I have that right?"
Vilizherchev appeared genuinely surprised. "Excuse me, Mr.
Secretary, but I am to understand that you believe the media
reports that the pilot of that aircraft is a Soviet KGB agent? You
actually believe that a Soviet agent, somehow in place and un-
detected in your military for several years, actually managed to
steal a top-secret military aircraft-and that this was a plan de-
DAY OF THE CHEETAH 309
vised by our intelligence service? We must clear the air right
now .
"A good idea," Elliott said.
Vilizherchev ignored him. "The pilot of that aircraft is not a
Russian, sir. We have identified him as Captain Kenneth F.
James of the United States Air Force, a test pilot in your orga-
nization, General Elliott. He has never had any connection with
the KGB or our government in any fashion or capacity-no as-
sociation with the Soviet Union in any way, except that his late
parents traveled on occasion to the Soviet Union for purposes of
business and pleasure. I am aware that your press reported that
Captain James radioed he was a colonel in the KGB. That is
nonsense. James is not, never has been, a KGB agent or any
other kind of agent of the Soviet Union."
The President glanced at Danahall and O'Day, and even
though he returned his clinical gaze back at Vilizherchev, the
momentary hesitancy in his eyes had been detected. This was
not a possibility that anyone had seriously considered. Was it a
KGB colonel in that jet? Just because he said he was KGB didn't
make it so, and the President, and the others, realized that they
had no real evidence to prove the true identity of the pilot.
"Our intelligence service has interviewed Captain James at
out installation in Nicaragua, and we have tapes of that interview
that you are welcome to review. Captain Ja
mes is not exactly
cooperative, nor has he completely made clear his motivations,
but he has stated that he requests asylum in the Soviet Union.
His request has not been approved; it will become part of our
investigation-"
"You're saying he defected? " the President said.
"That, Mr. President, is precisely what I am saying."
"That's bullshit-" Elliott exploded. The President held up a
hand to cut him off.
"General Elliott, I am telling you the truth," Vilizherchev
said. "Your Captain James acted on his own, without coercion
or support from my government-"
"What about the refueling in Mexico?" O'Day asked. "Our
pilots reported that it was a Soviet supply helicopter at that
mountain airfield that refueled our fighter."
"The details of that aren't clear to us, Ms. O'Day. But ap-
parently Captain James made contact with operatives in Las Ve-
7-
1
310 DALE BROWN
gas and arranged for refueling support. But I am pledging to you
that your Captain James had no support from us in planning and
executing this operation. We concede only that we were coop-
erative, mistakenly in my government's view, once he left your
country. "
" You're lying," Elliott said. Heads turned in his direction,
but no one, including the President, made a move this time to
silence Elliott.
Vilizherchev turned to face Elliott. "I beg your pardon, sir?"
" Look, we identified the two men killed on my airfield in
Nevada. One was an experienced KGB operative. The other was
a young, inexperienced infantryman. We've also identified the
mortar rounds used during the escape. All were Soviet in origin.
James was a KGB agent, and he killed twelve people while steal-
ing a top-secret aircraft from a U. military installation. In my
book they call that an act of war. Of course, I'm a general, not
a statesman." I .
It was all supposed to be a bluff. KGB Chief Kalinin had
assured Vilizherchev that the identities of the two operatives
were untraceable. By some standards, perhaps, but the Ameri-
cans had sophisticated ways of identifying even a badly muti-