24
“You want to steal a plane from the middle of Russia?” Drake waved helplessly at the projected flightpath through their heartland.
“No, I want to inspect their satellite. It’s simply that the most likely opportunity to do so is by acquiring it while it’s on a plane in the middle of Russia.” Elizabeth offered one of her seraphic smiles that he’d learned were anything but. They both enjoyed word play, but this was too much.
“And who’s going to fly it? And don’t say you; you were a combat jet pilot, not a Russian cargo pilot.”
“How about a Russian?”
“Is Clarissa’s contact a pilot?”
“Engineer—design-type, not flight-type. And no, he doesn’t have access to the information I need; he designed the communications system. He won’t transmit plans, just verbal delivery of tidbits of informat
