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And something did happen to those Bulgarians that the Greeks don't know anything about, or the Americans either. So you're to tell your story to the high brass down in Athens. I think you'll be locked up afterward as a lunatic and me with you for believing my own eyes. But a plane's being readied." "Where do I meet you?" asked Coburn. Hallen told him. A certain room out at the airport.
Actually, as ever before, the stock is in the hands of the Uppers, all except a mere dribble. They own the country and they run it for their own benefit." Max shot a less than military glance at him. "Hey, you're not one of these Sovs yourself, are you?" They were coming into the parking area near the Administration Building of the airport.
He turned away and nodded to the co-pilot, now savagely keeping the ship in wide, sweeping circles, the rims of which barely touched the farthermost corner of the airport on the ground below. "We've authority to jump," he said briefly. "You know where the chutes are. But there is a chance I can belly-land without that grenade blowing. I'm going to try that."
They reached the airport. They roared through the gateway and directly out upon the darkened field. Something bellowed and raced down a runway and took to the air. Other things followed it. They gained altitude and circled back overhead. Tiny bluish flickerings moved across the overcast sky. Exhaust flames. Coburn realized that it was a fighter plane escort.
"In fact, tomorrow's a local election day. Parlay that up on top of all the fracas fans gravitating into town and you'll have a wingding the likes of nothing you've seen before." "Well yessir," Max begrudged. "Where're we going now, captain?" "To the airport. Come along."
The presence of the guests seemed to intoxicate him with good-humor, and when he had to leave in the midst of the party to drive Maya to the airport he did not resume his argument. He merely kissed her good-bye tenderly before she boarded the plane and begged her with melting eyes to hurry back because he would be lonely every moment she was away.
Time had to be allowed for Steve to give him instructions, to get from wherever he was to the airport, and then get the plane gassed and ready. Allow another hour. That meant two hours in all. Inside, Rick was still scared. How did they know the electronic mind reader wouldn't be activated at any moment? He hurried into the house and went upstairs to where his father was packing.
When they were a half hour out he contacted the airport again and asked for the weather. The report hadn't changed. He told the airport operator, "The doctor is coming. Please notify the patient." He could almost see the operator jerk to attention as the headphones gave out a crisp "Roger."
"I have been to Khartoum on business," he said. "Last night I returned to the city and found that a family emergency had taken both of my brothers out of town. Fuad left very suddenly, after he had written to you. I apologize on his behalf. However, he must be excused, since a call from Ali, in Beirut, sent him running to the airport to catch the next flight.
This radar had 100-mile range and was used to control all air traffic approaching Washington. It was known as the ARTC radar. The control tower at National Airport had a shorter-range radar that it used to control aircraft in the immediate vicinity of the airport. Bolling AFB, he said, was located just east of National Airport, across the Potomac River.
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