stick would send Cheetah into an unexpected pitch-up or away.
He tried to loosen his tight grip on the control stick, but it was
hard to reprogram his head to the realities of electronic fiber-
optic controls-and had set the system to its lowest sensi-
tivity.
To complicate matters, a universe of information kept flashing
on the windscreen, changing so quickly that McLanahan didn't
have time to read it before it disappeared and another line of
numbers or symbols danced across his eyes. He had experi-
mented with turning off most of the laser-projected symbiology
but found himself repeatedly calling the information back up a
few moments later. Finally he decided to leave it there and just
deal with it-he hoped it wouldn't distract him too much when
472 DAIE BROWN
the shooting started. How could assimilate all this infor-
mation was beyond him.
Suddenly Patrick saw a gloved hand reach across his shoulder.
"By the way, I'm Marcia Preston." He realized only then that
he had not said a word except "prepare for takeoff" to his new
back-seater. With all the things going on in Cheetah's cockpit,
he managed to reach across with his left hand and shake Mar-
cia's extended hand.
He had just leveled Cheetah off at only five thousand feet as
once again he steered it southward toward Puerto Cabezas. At
full power he was maintaining just under Mach one as he raced
across the lush tropical forests and salt marshes of northeastern
Nicaragua. He hit the voice-command control on the stick and
in a deliberate voice said, "Autopilot, on, altitude, hold." The
computer repeated the command, which reminded McLanahan
to double check the autopilot status indicators. Cheetah's voice-
command system had been programmed by , and although
it was supposed to be -adaptable to any pilot, the subtle differ-
ences in pitch, accent and volume of voices sometimes confused
the computer.
"Marcia," McLanahan said after setting the autopilot, "I've,
got a question-why the hell did you volunteer for this mis-
sion?
"Because you needed me, and mostly because I wanted to
go. "
:'There's a chance we won't make it back."
'Not to toot my own horn, sir, but your chances of making
it back are much better now."
"Can the 'sir,' okay?"
"Okay, Patrick. Where to?"
"It's an outside chance but it's possible that DreamStar could
still be on the ground. We need to check the shelter at Puerto
Cabezas. "
At seven miles per minute they reached Puerto Cabezas in a
little over ten minutes. McLanahan pulled the power back to
eighty percent. "I'll line up so I can give you a good look out
the right side," he said. "The shelter is pretty low but you
should be able to see if an aircraft is in there."
Their arrival at the Nicaraguan military base was greeted by
a.cacophony of warning messages in English, Spanish and Rus-
sian, ordering them to turn away. He ignored them-and there
DAY OF THE CHEETAH 473
were no radar threat-warnings anywhere in the vicinity. They
had decreased speed to less than five miles per minute to get a
good look in the shelter. As they approached the base Mc-
Lanahan hit the voice-command switch: "Arm, cannon, mode,
strafe. "
" Warning, cannon armed, strafe mode, five hundred rounds
remaining. " An holographic aiming-reticle appeared on the
windscreen in front of McLanahan. He switched off the autopi-
lot, descended to one thousand feet and began to line up on the
shelter.
"You're arming the guns?"
"If DreamStar is in there I want to shoot before he gets off
the ground." He hit the command button again: "Target se-
lect." The reticle began to blink. He moved his head until the
aiming reticle, slaved to follow the pilot's head movements, was
directly on the mouth of the shelter, then hit the voice-command
button again: ". . . Now." The reticle stopped blinking and a
series of lines drew themselves on the windscreen like an
instrument-landing director. Once McLanahan centered those
lines, the cannon would blast the target to pieces.
"Target designated, select target q .ff to cancel.
"Watch your altitude," Marcia Preston said. "You're less than
five hundred feet AGL with autopilot off."
"Thanks." McLanahan put the altitude-hold autopilot back
on.
As they raced across the Nicaraguan base they could see men
and vehicles darting all across the airfield, even over the run-
way-it was much too crowded on the flightline for normal air
traffic. A number of emergency vehicles crowded the throat taxi-
ramp that led to the alert parking shelters.
When they were about two miles from the alert area Marcia
called out, "I can see the shelters. No aircraft in any of them."
Men were running from the shelter. "They think you're going
to bomb them, I think."
"I should put a few rounds in there."
"Waste of ammo."
"It would make me feel better, though." Instead of firing,
however, McLanahan hit the voice-command button. "Target
off. Cannon safe." The computer repeated and verified. He shut
off the autopilot and began a shallow climb, putting in full mil-
itary power once again.
474 DAIE BROWN
"Long gone," Marcia Preston said. "Which way now?"
"Not sure." Patrick McLanahan climbed to ten thousand feet,
well above the mountains of central Nicaragua far off to the
west. "James' original plan was to fly DreamStar to Cuba. More
secure than Nicaragua. Then on to the Soviet Union . . . " He
switched frequencies to the channel set up with the communi-
cations facility at Puerto Lempira. "Storm Control, this is Storm
T,vo. How copy?"
"Loud and clear, Storm Two," General Elliott replied im-
mediately.
"Our target wasn't at Puerto Cabezas. Is the AWACS up?"
"Affirmative," from Elliott. "He's got complete coverage of
the Caribbean north of Nicaragua. He's got one F-16 with him.
No word from him yet."
"Target must be heading south, back to Sebaco or Managua."
McLanahan called up Managua on the inertial navigation unit
and set the autopilot on course. "We're en route back to Sebaco
to check it out, then Managua."
"Roger. Keep us advised. Storm Control out."
They flew on for another few minutes, then Marcia clicked
on the interphone: "Colonel, you said we're flying to Sebaco,
then Managua . . . What kind of air defenses does Sebaco have?
I know Managua is heavily protected. Isn't Sebaco that KGB
base where they kept DrearnStar?"
"Yes," he replied testily, the questions interrupting his train
of thought. "Sebaco was protected by fifty-seven-millimeter guns
and SA-10 missiles and a few MiG-29 fighters. We destroyed
them two days ago."
"Are they back in place?"
"I don't know."
"What about Managua? What kind
of defenses does it have?"
M "Probably like Puerto Cabezas. SA-15 missiles, MiG-29 or
iG-27 fighters, probably tactical anti-aircraft artillery. Why?"
"Why? Well . . . do you think the Nicaraguans are just going
to let us fly over their cities? Don't you think they're going to
throw everything they got at us?"
"We're going anyway. I don't care what defenses they have,
we've penetrated them before, and--
"No, sir- JC. Powell and you defeated their defenses. You
were in the backseat-"
"What the hell does that mean?"
DAY OF THE CHEETAH 475
"It means that you can't just charge -in over Managua and
Sebaco without some kind of a game plan," she said. "We were
lucky over Puerto Cabezas, sir-you assumed that the defenses
that were destroyed by the B-52 two days ago were still de-
stroyed, or they didn't bring in more fighters just waiting for you
to fly over looking for DreamStar. What if they'd been replaced?
We would have been dead ten minutes in the sky. You can't
assume anything."
No response from McLanahan. "I'm not trying to chicken
out. I'll fly wherever you want, and I'll help you defend this
aircraft the best I can. But we've got to do this the smart way or
we'll be dead without ever getting off a shot at Ken James . . . "
"You're right. I took off from Puerto Lempira with no idea
where I was going after checking Puerto Cabezas. And we did
receive intelligence that the runway at Sebaco had been re-
paired-they could have moved in a whole squadron of MiGs by
now. We could be jumped at any moment, and we have no air
cover, no surveillance and only six missiles to defend ourselves.
Stupid. Damned stupid - . . "
"The question is-what are we going to do now? We can't
just drone around in circles."
"We've got to get an idea which way we went." But how . . .
He ordered the voice-command computer to set a frequency in
the number two VHF radio.
"Sandino Tower, this is Storm Zero Two on one-one-eight
point one. Over."
"Storm Zero TWo, this is Augusto Cesar Sandino Interna-
tional Airport tower," a controller with a thick Spanish accent
replied. "State your position, altitude, type of aircraft, departure
airport and destination. Be advised, we have no flight plan for
you. You may be in violation of the air traffic laws of Nicaragua.
Respond immediately."
"Tower, Storm Zero, Two is an American military fighter. I
am in pursuit of an American aircraft piloted by a Russian crim-
inal. I intend to overfly Sebaco and Managua in search of this
aircraft. I request assistance. Over."
"Storm Zero Two, overflight of Nicaragua by American mil-
itary aircraft is prohibited. You are in violation of national and
international law. You are directed to land at Sandino Interna-
tional immediately or you will be fired on without warning.
Over.
476 DALE BROWN
"Sandino Tower, I say again; I am in pursuit of a criminal
piloting an American aircraft. He is a danger to you as well as
to the United States. I request assistance in pursuing this air-
craft. I am not hostile to Nicaragua. Please assist. Over."
"It's not going to work," Preston said. "They're just trian-
gulating our position. We've got to get out of here, head back
across the Honduran border-"
"Storm Zero TWo, this is Sandino Tower. Please stay on this
frequency for important message. Acknowledge."
He did not reply. A message flashed on his windscreen, warn-
ing him that a search radar was in the vicinity. From the rear
seat Preston said, "We're getting close to Managua's search
radar. "
"Storm Zero Two, contact the man on frequency one-three-
one point one-five VHF. Important. Sandino Tower out."
He began a left turn away from Managua and changed chan-
nels. Preston asked, "Are you going to talk on that frequency?
It could be a military ground-controlled interceptor's direction-
finder. They could pin-point our location as soon as you key the
mike without using radar."
" Maybe. But I don't think so." He hit the mike button. "This
is Storm Zero Two on one-three-one point one-five. Over."
"Storm Two, this is General-Lieutenant Viktor Tcharin, Dep-
uty Commander of Operations for Soviet Central America Op-
erations Base Sebaco. Whom am I addressing?"
"It's a damned Soviet general," Preston said. "What the hell
does he want?"
Patrick keyed the mike. "General Tcharin, this is Lieutenant
Colonel Patrick McLanahan, United States Air Force. State your
request. Over. "
"McLanahan . . . McLanahan . Then, sounding as if he
was reading from a script, went on: 'Senior project officer,
Midnight Sky. Code name for XF-34 DreamStar advanced tac-
tical fighter aircraft flight technology validation project. Age
forty-one, white male.' Ochin kharasho. Very good. Colonel
McLanahan, I believe we want very nearly the same thing. You
want the XF-34. We want Colonel Andrei Maraklov. Perhaps
we can make an arrangement-"
where Maraklov is headed?"
"We have evidence to that effect, yes," Tcharin told him.
DAY OF THE CHEETAH 477
"We believe we have tracked his course on radar. But we do not
have the air assets to pursue him. You reported to the Nicaraguan
tower controller that you are in command of a fighter plane. Is
it your intention to attack Colonel Maraklov?"
"Yes. I I
"We have information that may be of use to you. In exchange
for this information we want you to deliver Colonel Maraklov to
us, should he survive. Is that agreeable to you, Colonel Mc-
Lanahan?"
"I'm not making any deals," McLanahan told him. "I don't
trust you any more than I trust Maraklov. But if you tell me
where he went, and if he survives, I promise not to kill him
myself. What happens to him after that is up to our governments.
How about that?"
A pause, then: "I agree. Colonel Maraklov had received in-
structions" . . . he did not say from whom . . . "to fly the
aircraft south, to an isolated landing strip somewhere in Costa
Rica. He was detected flying forty nautical miles west of Blue-
fields in southern Nicaragua about ten minutes ago, We have no
other information. He was at twenty thousand feet, flying at five
hundred nautical miles per hour."
"Copy that down for me, Marcia," McLanahan said. On the
radio: "How do I know you're telling the truth? He could be
flying north to Cuba, or east. He could even be on the ground
in Managua or Sebaco. "
"You contacted us for assistance and I have given it to you.
If you do not trust us, your request makes no sense."
"Why can't you get Maraklov by yourself? Isn't he delivering
the XF-34 to you?"
"It's not clear what orders Colonel Maraklov has chosen to
follow. Our last orders, from the Kollegiya, were to tur
n over
the XF-34 to you at Puerto Cabezas. Why he took the aircraft,
I do not know. We want to question him about that matter, as
well as the killing of two Soviet officers and two soldiers. My
orders are to capture Colonel Maraklov for questioning, but I
have no resources to do it. That is where you can help . . . "
If this Soviet general was lying, every mile he flew south
could be two miles that Maraklov was increasing the distance
on his way to Cuba or someplace to the east. Yet he had no other
possible options.
"Marcia?"
478 DAIE BROWN
1 1 1 don't see much of a choice. I don't trust him either, and I
sure as hell don't like making deals with him, but it's the only
lead we have. Our AWACS from Grand Cayman is covering the
north Caribbean-so south seems like a good direction for us to
be heading. Might as well try it."
.McLanahan keyed the radio again as he began a right turn
toward the south. "General Tcharin, if I get Maraklov alive I
promise you'll have an opportunity to question him about the
murders. I was a witness to three of them in Puerto Cabezas."
"Unfortunately an American is an unacceptable witness in
our military court of law," Tcharin said, "but I believe we have
a deal ... Colonel McLanahan, the XF-34 is armed with twenty-
millimeter shells, two radar-guided missiles and two infrared-
guided missiles-not the most modem Soviet weapons but
proved effective against your F-16s over the Caribbean. One more
item: Maraklov is wounded. We have tested and found his blood
at a site here in Sebaco as well as the blood of one of his victims.
You have clearance to transit Nicaraguan airspace west and south
of Bluefields. Costa Rican approach control frequency for cross-
ing border restricted airspace MRR Three is one-one-nine point
six, El Coco Control."
And the channel went dead. McLanahan told the computer to
set the frequency, and he checked the computer flight-
information database and double-checked the flight information
files for Costa Rica-Tcharin's information seemed right on.
"Well, you wanted a plan, Marcia," he said as they ap-