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WOODY TAXIED OFF THE runway and limped the Flanker down the taxiway behind Spectre’s aircraft. The number two engine had been successfully shut down and the Exhaust Gas Temperature (EGT) indication had come back down to within limits. There was no indication of fire or any other abnormalities.
“I knew we’d end up in a North Korean jail!” Woody said over the intercom.
“We’re not going to end up in jail, bub. Just stick to the plan,” Kruger replied from the backseat.
“How are we going to do a demo with only one engine?” Woody asked nervously.
“You won’t have to. Just stick to the plan, don’t say anything, nod, and smile,” Kruger replied.
“Right,” Woody said.
“How bad did the EGT spike?” Spectre asked over their aux frequency.
“I saw 980 before I shut it down,” Woody replied.
“So, it’s toast,” Spectre said.
“Affirm!”
“Copy,” Spectre said. “I’m going to take the spot in front of the viewing stand and you can park in the spot next to me. Do a quick post flight, but don’t be obvious about it.”
“Wilco,” Woody replied.
He turned left to follow Spectre as they taxied by the row of SU-25s and MiG-29s. Some of the aircraft didn’t even appear flyable, missing engines or seats. Woody wondered where the North Koreans were going to get the money for Advanced Flankers, but that wasn’t his problem. He just wanted to kill the bad guy and get the hell out of there.
Spectre turned right into the poorly marked spot in front of the viewing stand. Woody continued forward for a few feet and then turned to line up on his mark. There were no marshallers or wing-walkers to guide him in, but he could see he had plenty of room.
He set the parking brake and shut down the good engine. “Canopy’s opening,” Woody announced as he hit the switch.
Two men ran in from the left and chocked the wheels of Woody’s aircraft. They then ran back to where they had been standing, grabbed two ladders and returned to attach them to the side of the jet. Woody took his helmet off and pulled the Acces ear plugs out of his ears as he put the helmet on the canopy rail. He pulled a case out of his pocket and inserted the communicator he had been given. It was another gift from DARPA, specially designed to translate foreign languages and also had a two-way line of sight communicator with the rest of the team.
Woody wormed out of his harness and descended the ladder to where Kruger was already on the ground taking off his G-suit. “Remember, get an initial assessment, but don’t bring any attention to what you find,” Kruger warned in a low voice.
Woody nodded and quickly took off his G-suit and hung it on the ladder. He walked under the nose of the aircraft, quickly looking over it as he eyed the number two intake. He made his way down the fuselage and peered into the intake. As his eyes adjusted, he immediately saw the damage – a least four blades were completely mangled and two were partially bent. The motor had been completely fragged by a chunk of asphalt kicked up by Spectre’s aircraft on landing.
He caught himself lingering and then quickly moved to the right main landing gear and continued his post flight inspection. The tires and brakes were in good condition, and there didn’t appear to be any other damage to the intake. They had that much going for them at least.
Woody checked out the right wing and then moved down the fuselage. He stopped at the tail of the aircraft and did his best to hide his reaction as he saw the nozzle on the right side. It was heavily damaged and charred. It only confirmed what he already knew, but now he was worried that the North Koreans might also catch on sooner rather than later.
He finished the post flight inspection and then nodded to Kruger as he joined him at the ladder. “Totally screwed,” Woody whispered.
“Nod and smile,” Kruger said under his breath.
The two walked around the nose of the aircraft and joined Spectre and Cowboy at attention in between the two Advanced Flankers. He saw Natasha standing with Viktor, Anatoly and a group of North Korean generals. There was a camera crew filming them as Natasha gave them the sales pitch for the aircraft.
A group of soldiers approached as they waited. The men frisked Spectre and company for weapons and then went to the aircraft. They each climbed up the ladders, inspecting the cockpits for bombs or weapons before descending and returning to the group of dignitaries. The leader nodded and the group approached.
“Look sharp, boys,” Spectre mumbled.
Woody immediately recognized Kim Jong-Un and then saw the target, Choe Il-Sung, walking next to him. They were followed by two other generals and an attractive female officer who appeared to be taking notes. A camera crew trailed as Kim Jong-Un approached Spectre at the far right of their formation.
As Kim Jong-Un smiled and shook their hands, Natasha began introducing the pilots by their codenames. Kim Jong-Un appeared to be uninterested in the background of the others, but stopped in front of Woody and pointed casually.
“This one is from where?” Woody heard him ask through the translator ear piece.
“Vladivostok,” Natasha replied in Korean. “His mother is Vietnamese.”
Kim Jong-Un appeared pleased by the answer, but Choe Il-Sung remained unconvinced. He walked up to Woody as Jong-Un walked away.
“He is pilot?” he asked in Korean.
“He is a great pilot,” Natasha replied. “Of course, not as good as Dear Leader.”
“Good flying,” he told Woody in Russian. The translator ear piece worked almost too well. Had Woody not recognized that it was in Russian, he never would’ve known the little man was testing him.
“Spasibo,” Woody replied, using the limited Russian he had learned in their crash course.
Choe Il-Sung seemed pleased by the response and nodded before rejoining Jong-Un. The team remained in place as Natasha followed Jong-Un and company on a cursory walk around of the aircraft.
When they were out of earshot, Woody looked down at Kruger’s gloved hands and whispered, “Did you do it yet?”
“It’s done,” Kruger replied without looking at Woody.
“Good, now let’s go turn dinosaurs into hot air and get out of here.”