Shadow Flight

"No, colonel," the chalky-faced tech-rep answered. "They don't want any radio transmissions from the B-2."

Evans looked quickly at the fuel gauges and navigation readout, then back out of the side window. "Sorry, comrades, we can't let down just—"

The copilot's sentence was cut off by a burst of cannon fire from the MiG on the left side of the B-2. The bright red tracers lit up the night, slashing through the waterfall of rain.

"Ah… Christ," Matthews said in a resigned voice. "We're starting down."

SAN JULIAN MILITARY AIRFIELD,

Province of Pinar del Rio

Gennadi Dunayevich Levchenko, Stealth project officer and director of the renegade KGB operations at San Julian, paced nervously back and forth in the control tower. The portly, bushy-haired man was the Soviet Union's highest regarded field operative. He was a ruthless, driven agent who had fought his way politically to the top echelon of the world's largest spy and state-security machine.

Now, at age forty-six, Levchenko had been given the responsibility of stealing the American B-2 Stealth bomber. The Chief of the KGB, Vladimir Golodnikov, had withheld the fact that the Kremlin was unaware of the secret mission. Levchenko had been operating on the premise that the B-2 project was a Kremlin priority.

Levchenko had attended Syracuse University, sponsored by an international exchange scholarship, where he had graduated with a bachelor of arts degree in political science. His minor had been international relations. After receiving his diploma, the future KGB agent had returned to his homeland to complete an advanced degree in international studies. He had not been aware that his activities were monitored closely while he was in the United States.

The KGB had been very pleased with Gennadi Levchenko's academic achievements while attending the American university.

They were particularly proud of his unwavering dedication to the Motherland.

Barely three months into his advanced studies, Levchenko had been approached by two persuasive recruiters from the KGB. The pair had been very friendly and had outlined an agency career with unlimited potential for an individual with his credentials. Levchenko had been euphoric but managed to quell his excitement so as not to appear too eager. He had wanted to be an officer in the KGB from the age of eleven and accepted the offer gladly.

Levchenko had distinguished himself at the KGB training academy, demonstrating many of the traits that would later propel him to the top of his profession. As a new KGB officer, he quickly developed a reputation for being ruthless in his quest for perfection and recognition.

His first assignment had been a plum. Levchenko had returned to the United States, where he had masqueraded as an assistant to the Soviet ambassador. He nurtured many friendships from his university days and courted influential politicos around the Washington beltway. Charming the power brokers in the nation's capital, he gathered every piece of classified intelligence he could grasp or buy. His career flourished for years, culminating in his present assignment.

Levchenko could barely make out the MiG-23s and -25s lined up on the tarmac directly below the San Julian tower. He silently cursed the driving rain and hurricane-force winds, then walked over to the tower chief. "How far out are they?" Levchenko asked the senior warrant officer.

Yevgeny I. Pogostyan looked at the radarscope. It was almost impossible to see the two MiG-25s in the pounding rain. The B-2, squawking the preplanned transponder code-4276—registered clearly on the brightly lighted radar screen.

"Ninety kilometers, comrade director," Pogostyan replied respectfully. "We have the runway lights at the highest intensity."

"Balshoye spasibo," Levchenko said, thanking the tower controller.

"Do not worry, comrade director," assured Maj. Gen. Petr V.

Brotskharnov, commanding officer of the Voenno Vozdushniye Sily (VVS, the Soviet Air Force) detachment. Assured, the general stared at the radar screen, then looked into Levchenko's cold eyes. "Lieutenant Colonel Zanyathov and Major Sokolviy are the two best pilots in the VVS. They will guide the Americans down safely."

"I hope you are right, general," Levchenko replied out of the corner of his mouth, "for the sake of all of us."

Both men watched the radarscope, listening to Pogostyan converse with the lead MiG pilot.

Lieutenant Colonel Zanyathov had not disclosed that he had fired his cannon in front of the bomber. His concern was landing in the hurricane conditions. The Russian fighter pilot knew his career would be over if he failed to successfully complete the secret operation.

Chapter Four

THE B-2

Matthews, staring through the rain at the MiG-25, wrestled the controls of the bucking Stealth bomber. He constantly jockeyed the number two and three throttles to maintain formation with the agile Soviet fighter.