Chương 74: Book 3 - Chapter 9 C

It was overcast and pouring rain as security drove me behind the trucks carrying the equipment to the San Diego airport. The low clouds and heavy rain in the pre-dawn light gave everything a sense of impending drama. The trucks pulled directly onto the secure cargo apron, stopping nose-to-tail beside a waiting Boeing 747-200F cargo jet. The plane itself was immense, easily swallowing up the trucks in its shadow, but what impressed me most was the nose-loading mechanism.

The entire forward section of the aircraft, including the cockpit, was hinged and lifted like a great silver visor, exposing the main deck—a cavernous space lined with metallic rollers and powered drive units. This wasn't some haphazard loading operation. It was a high-precision, military-grade logistical ballet. I watched, considerably impressed, as the forklift operators and the professional loadmasters began the process.

Each large, wooden crate—containing the disassembled steel frames or the massive rolls of laser-welded graphene felt—had been secured onto aircraft pallets overnight. The lift drivers carefully approached the tail of the trucks, lifted the heavy pallets, and drove them up a ramp into the massive nose opening. Inside the plane, the loadmasters moved with practiced urgency. They used joysticks to activate the powered rollers, that slid the long heavy pallets deep into the body of the 747.

Every crate, every piece of equipment, from the Dnieper spillway frame to the translated instruction manuals, was accounted for and secured with nylon straps and locking mechanisms. Matt walked up to watch as well.

"Morning," I greeted.

"Morning," he said and handed me a hot chocolate covered in whipped cream.

"Thanks," I said as I started to sip the piping hot beverage.

"You're not feeling exhausted again are you?" he asked worriedly.

"No. Just tired. I slept a few hours. I didn't do much, just organized it and supervised."

"It was impressive to watch. They like working for you." I took another sip.

"They're the best at General Atomics," I replied, watching a crane hoist the final, enormous pallet—the crated spillway structure—into the belly of the jet.

"But we are cutting it close. We're supposed to be wheels up at six."

"Don't worry," Matt said, checking his watch.

"Once they get that massive nose door down, they can finish the tie-downs and paperwork in the air."

"You know cargo planes?" I asked.

"It's how most of the military moves around, inside a cargo plane. To the Air Force, ground troops are just self-loading cargo after all."

"Well I'm looking forward to trying to get a nap once we get in the air. Do you know if our guest arrived?" He snorted a laugh knowing the difficulties of sleeping on a cargo plane.

"I think that's him now," Matt said, gesturing at a group of oncoming vehicles. The loading supervisor gave a quick thumbs-up, and the complex hydraulic system began to whir. The giant silver nose of the 747 slowly lowered back into position with a soft thud and the engagement of heavy latches. The air crew, already aboard, were likely running their final checks. Two black Ford passenger vans pulled up and Matt and I watched as six soldiers and one well-dressed man got out.

The soldiers carried the luggage onto the plane, disappearing inside. The well-dressed man came up to me with a hand out.

"Dr Cook, I presume," he said as we shook.

"Mr Riley, I presume," I said in return.

"I'm sorry I'm running a little late. I'm glad you haven't left yet." Security came up then.

"Sir, it's time to board."

"Alright!" I said raising my voice.

"Everybody going, time to board." I brushed the rain off my jacket and headed for the steps. Matt and Mr Riley followed closely. Nick was at the top of the stairs and directed me to the nearby steps leading to the upper deck. The 747 engines, which had been turning over softly, now began to spool up to taxi power. The mission was now on. I had a long flight ahead of me, riding along with sixty tons of steel, graphene, and audacity.

To Matt's surprise I had no trouble falling asleep as soon as we boarded, missing the takeoff completely. I opened my eyes hours later to find him in the seat next to me reading a book with a long-haired bare-chested man holding a scantily clad woman on the cover.

"Morning," I told him.

"Afternoon. We'll be landing soon for refueling. Mr Riley will be getting off for a bit as well," he said.

"Really?" I asked.

"Yeah. In his rush to bring the extra six soldiers he didn't bring any food. He's contacted the catering service at the airport." Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

"Funny. I need the bathroom. Where is it?" I asked. Matt pointed me to it, and soon I was back in my seat.

"We brought food right?" I asked him.

"We did. It's in the cooler under the seat in front of you." I pulled it out and opened the top finding silver-wrapped burritos.

"Nice. You got the good stuff," I told him. They were still warm from the insulated container as I bit into the Mission style burrito. When I was done the plane was beginning its descent. I looked around.

"Where is Mr Riley?"

"The wall behind us has the crew bunks and there is more seating behind that. He left this smaller group of seats up front for us."

"I saw the cockpit when I went to the bathroom."

"Yeah. Nice guys. They've been flying a long time."

"No worries about flying into the USSR?" I asked him.

"Not that I could tell."

"Got a book for me?" I asked.

"No. I have several books, but none are for you," he said smugly.

"That's fine," I said and stood. I reached up to open my bag and pulled an artist's sketchbook and a pencil from my bag. I sat down and started to sketch. By the time we landed at Goose Bay, refueled and took off again I had a dozen new pencil drawings of the same beautiful woman. I thought the last one was particularly good. It showed her in profile looking excitedly out an airplane window. I jotted 4566 in the corner to finish it. I looked up to find Mr Riley standing there watching.

"Pretty woman. Doesn't look like a 747 though," he said.

"It's a Concorde," I said and closed the book.

"How can I help you Mr Riley? Is there a problem?"

"Everything's fine I just need your passport," he said. I put my sketchbook back in my luggage and retrieved my passport from it and handed it to him. He smiled after looking at the photo to be sure it was the right one. He put it in his inner coat pocket and handed me a manila envelope.

"What's this?" I asked.

"A present from the President. Open it up and see." I opened it up to reveal a brand new black passport for me, and a gray passport for Matt. I handed Matt his, and read the letter included in the envelope.

"Thank you Mr Riley."

"Thank you, Mr Ambassador," he said with a smirk. I sat back down and watched as he returned to the back of the plane.

"What's all that about?" Matt asked.

"I've just been appointed as a Special Ambassador by the President of the United States." We arrived at Kiev at 2pm on April 30th, 22 hours and two refueling stops after takeoff. There was much confusion as to who we were once we were on the ground. Our flight had been cleared as we had filed a flight plan stating we were delivering emergency equipment for the Kiev hydroelectric dam. I waved out the door to get the security officer's attention and then moved briskly down the steps.

He was very concerned about an American plane landing. I don't know what confused him more. My age and size or my Russian.

"I'm delivering emergency supplies for the Kiev Dam," I explained. His eyes widened, and he looked to the northeast in alarm.

"The dam is in danger?"

"No, the hydroelectric dam is fine. It's the water on the other side."

"What is wrong with the water?" he asked, still alarmed.

"I brought a water filtration system to attach to the dam." Before he could articulate further confusion, I decided to shorten the conversation.

"Thank you for your assistance, officer," I told him as I shook his hand. He frowned, then looked at the size of the diamond I had placed in his palm. He smiled brightly.

"Where do you need to move the equipment, and who should I ask to assist you?" he asked with keen attention.

"I need the person in charge of the dam, the local political commissar and probably the Mayor of Kiev." He saluted smartly.

"Understood Comrade. I will notify those parties."

"I also need some heavy trucks to move the equipment to the dam. Let everyone know that I can pay in diamonds or US Dollars."

"Wait in the plane, Comrade. I will arrange it." I went back to the plane. Mr Riley asked me in Russian.

"I heard the conversation. Where did you learn to speak Russian so fluently?"

"I saw the Pimsleur tapes in a magazine and my Mom ordered them for me. I got them all."

"Impressive."

"I also picked up Ukrainian, so I can talk with the locals if we need to."

"Have you used it much before?" he asked.

"I met some Ukrainian and Russian chess players at the last championship, so I got to practice, and they taught me some fun songs." He smiled, and shook his head. The officer I had met had simply dropped everything in his boss's lap and walked away with his reward. It had trickled up the line, until a Soviet Air Force General responded with someone from his staff.

"I am Major Gerasimov. General Antoshkin sent me to find out if you are here to help with the emergency," the man said after I went down the stairs again to talk to him.

"I'm Dr Cook. I brought a large format water filter to place at the Kiev dam. It will filter out anything radioactive in the Kievske Reservoir and keep it from flowing into the Dnieper River. It must be installed immediately."

"A water filter?" he asked, his big bushy eyebrows scrunching in confusion. I handed him a sample.

"This is a sample of the filter. If you pour water through it, it will come out clean on the other side."

"Really?"

"Yes, you can go test it but we need trucks to move the equipment to the dam as quickly as possible before the river becomes contaminated." He understood and I slipped him an even larger diamond when I shook his hand. He called up his men, and the aircraft opened up. They watched impressed then worked to unload my crates onto big six-wheeled trucks.

"Who's going?" I asked the group inside the plane. Mr Riley pointed at one of the soldiers.

"They have to stay on the plane unless we need a rescue," he said. I looked and discovered that security had been with the soldiers.

"Nick, you can come. You're a civilian. I want you and Matt."

"I'm coming too," Mr Riley stated.

"Okay. Let's go get in a truck before they leave without us." One of the big trucks had a large bench seat behind the driver, so we all sat together. The line of trucks started up and rumbled off to the dam.