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“YOU GUYS DOING OKAY?” Spectre asked as he approached his team. They were sitting around one of the briefing tables drinking water and Gatorade. Woody and Cowboy had wrapped the top half of their flight suits around their waists. They all looked exhausted.
“Woody is a four G kind of guy. Eight is a bit much,” Woody moaned, referring to the G-forces he had pulled in his previous two sorties so far that day in the SU-30.
“Just one more and we can all go home,” Spectre said. “Then you’ll get a couple of down days before we start training again.”
“You still haven’t told us what we’re training for,” Woody said.
“The most important mission of your career,” Spectre said with a grin. “Now let’s go. Time to brief.”
“Goddammit,” Woody said with an exaggerated groan as he slowly stood and untied the flight suit from his waist so he could put it back on.
“C’mon, mate, it’s not so bad,” Cowboy said as he also put his flight suit top back on. “It’s fun.”
“I miss the A-10,” Woody replied. “Much more gentlemanly.”
“Learn as much as you can,” Spectre said. “You can have a steak tonight on the flight home as your reward. The jet is supposed to be catered this time.”
“Now you’re talking!” Woody said as he turned and saw Alexei. “C’mon, Lexi. Let’s do this!”
Alexei smiled at his student’s newfound enthusiasm and slapped Woody on the back. “Is good!” he yelled.
Spectre looked at Sparky. They were both tired too, but neither said anything. They just had one more flight to muscle through and then they’d be on their way home.
“How are you feeling about this jet?” Spectre asked.
“It’s not bad,” Sparky said. “The Russians built a sturdy airplane, but the avionics integration sucks. Hopefully you’re not expecting us to go out and employ this thing with any level of proficiency.”
“Learn what you can,” Spectre said cryptically. “We’ll fine tune what you need to know when we get back home.”
“Copy that,” Sparky replied.
Spectre nodded and then turned to find his instructor. They briefed and stepped for his last flight in the front seat of the SU-30. From here on out, he would be riding in the backseat as the instructor for Woody and Sparky as they honed their skills for the upcoming mission.
The flight went uneventfully. Despite his fatigue, Spectre enjoyed every minute of it. The Flanker was an incredible aircraft. They worked on high angle-of-attack and slow speed maneuvering as well as recovering from departures from controlled flight. After finishing their work in the airspace, they came back and flew two instrument approaches for practice and then landed.
After climbing out of the front seat for the last time, Spectre shook hands with his instructor and returned to the hangar. He watched Sparky and Dusty finishing their briefs with their instructors as he took off his gear and stowed it.
“That was fun. Let’s eat!” Woody said as he approached with his helmet in hand.
“Better flight?” Spectre asked, unzipping his G-suit.
“Alexei took me out for a quick low level. It was a lot more fun than pulling until the lights go out,” Woody said, referring to the loss of vision pilots often experienced at high Gs when their Anti-G Straining Maneuver (AGSM) was insufficient. “Besides, hunger is a powerful motivator.”
“Sparky and Dusty should be going out now. When Cowboy gets back, we’ll get all our bags loaded and get ready to move out,” Spectre said.
“And then we eat?”
“And then we eat,” Spectre said.
“Perfect! But don’t forget the ice cream!”
Spectre laughed as he finished putting away his gear. As he closed the black Pelican Case, Sierra walked up to him and handed him a bottle of water.
“You look like you’ve had a long day,” she said.
“I’m going to sleep like a baby on the flight home,” Spectre said.
Sierra pulled a folded envelope from her back pocket. “Your new documents, sir.”
Spectre opened them and read the passport and official papers. “Security detail. That was fast.”
“Mallory and Coolio work well together,” Sierra replied, referring to her own computer analyst back at MI-6.
“Thanks for doing this,” Spectre said, holding up the documents.
“Sledge will issue your weapons and uniform,” Sierra said before pointing to Spectre’s flight suit. “You won’t be able to wear those pajamas.”
“Fair enough,” Spectre replied. “Any news on the asset pickup last night?”
“Kruger and Ringo touched down about an hour ago,” Sierra said. “So far, so good.”
“What about the others?”
Sierra frowned. “Diverted to Lajes in the Azores.”
“Diverted? For what?”
Sierra shrugged. “I’m no pilot or mechanic, but I think it had something to do with oil. Maybe oil pressure?”
“Can they fix it? Or get another aircraft?”
“They’re assessing that right now,” Sierra replied. “I’m waiting for an answer.”
“So, what do we do? Are we going to fly to Lajes from Minsk?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Why not?”
Sierra looked around them to ensure no one was listening.
“It’s bad enough we’re flying everyone on one jet back to the states. There’s no reason to mix assets with people. That’s how state intelligence agencies start putting pieces together. I cannot allow it.”
“And they can’t put it together with us here?”
“It’s a calculated risk we’ve had to take,” Sierra replied. “Unless you would’ve preferred to learn to fly the aircraft on your own?”
“Fair enough,” Spectre said. “So how many assets does that give us?”
“Without the one in Lajes?”
“Yeah.”
“Zero.”
“Zero? How? Why?”
“From what I understand, they had to load key components on the Air Force aircraft to make room.”
“Can’t they send a C-17 in to get those pieces? So we’ll at least have what Kruger and Ringo brought back?”
Sierra seemed to consider it for a moment. “I’ll have Mallory and Coolio look into it. I don’t like the idea of involving more people than we have to. And another aircraft and crew just adds to the risk.”
“I get that,” Spectre said. “But these folks are professionals. They deal with this sort of stuff all the time. I think you can trust them.”
“I trust no one.”
“Well, it’s either that or we have no mission at all. That C-5 could be stuck there for weeks.”
“I’ll make the call.”