James Huston - Fallout

Thud studied the horse trailer parked next to Luke’s garage. It was large, white, and dented. “What’s with the horse trailer?”

“I got a deal on it.”

Thud frowned and looked around. “Hey, Stick, I hate to break it to you, but you don’t have any horses.”

“One day.” Luke sat down again. “I wanted to let you know I’m going to submit my letter of resignation.”

“No,” Thud protested. “There’s got to be a better way, Stick. Ask the Admiral to review it. Everybody knows what a great pilot you are. Gun just had it in for you, for some reason.”

“Thud, you know that wouldn’t make any difference at all. And if I stayed in, I’d be the coffee mess officer in Adak, Alaska, by next year. You know that.”

“I don’t know that.” Thud poured milk in his coffee and stirred it. “There’s got to be a way.”

“There’s no way.”

Thud shook his head as he thought about life at TOPGUN without Luke. It would take all the fun out of it. “So now what? Airlines?”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. I’d rather throw up on a bus.”

“Nice,” Michelle said disapprovingly.

“Sorry. Inside joke. That’s a reference to a test they give you in Pensacola—”

“Whatever,” Michelle said, still frowning.

“So? What is it? What are you thinking about?” Thud demanded.

Luke looked at Katherine, who nodded. “Check this out,” Luke said, handing Thud a folded newspaper.

He looked at the section on top. “What’s this?”

“Read it.”

Thud read it, then looked up. “Interesting, but so what?”

“The United States bought twenty-one MiG-29s from Moldova. Did you know that?”

“Sure. Couple of months ago. They’re at Wright-Patterson, as I recall.”

“Check out the article. Extra engines, parts, and five hundred Russian air-to-air missiles. Believe that?”

“So what?”

“What if we could get our hands on a few of them?”

“A few what?”

“MiG-29s.”

“And do what?” Thud frowned.

“Remember when Gun told us there were nine thousand adversary sorties that went unfilled by TOPGUN last year?”

“Yeah.”

“What if we had eight MiG-29s and could start our own, private TOPGUN?”

Thud stared at him, then looked at Michelle, then back at Luke. “Are you serious?”

“Dead serious. And I want you to help me.”

“How?”

“Start the school with me. Our own TOPGUN School. Our MiGs. What do you say?”

“I’ve got another eighteen months at TOPGUN.”

“Your obligation is up. You could get out now if you wanted to.”

“Damn,” Thud remarked. “That’s the craziest idea I’ve ever heard. You really think you could pull it off ?”

“I just started thinking about it. Took my breath away. No more going to sea. No more commanders telling us what to do. No more getting out and flying for the airlines and hating life.”

“Who would you get to fly with you?”

“Former TOPGUN instructors who’ve gotten out.”

“That just might work, Stick. What about maintenance and parts?”

“There’s a new company, just formed. Joint venture between DaimlerChrysler and Mikoyan in Russia, called MAPS—the MiG Aircraft Product Support Company. They formed it to convert MiG-29s and MiG-21s to NATO specs and modify and maintain them. They’re doing it for Poland, Hungary, and the Czech Republic. I called them. They said they could do the entire thing for us. All the maintenance, you name it. You interested?”

Thud was impressed. “Maybe. Maybe I am,” he said. “Where would you fly these MiG-29s?”

“Tonopah.”

“Seriously?” Thud asked, surprised.

“Where’s Tonopah?” Michelle asked.

“About a hundred twenty miles south. It’s in the middle of total damned nowhere. It’s where the F-117 Stealth fighters were based until they were disclosed to the public. Now it’s just sitting there idle.”

“Probably a wreck.”

“Nope,” Luke said, leaning forward. “It’s beautiful. I drove down there yesterday. Absolutely perfect shape. Nobody would be telling us we’re coming into the break too fast there. There’s not a house within twenty miles of the place. Hold on,” he said as he stepped inside the house for a moment. “Here’s a picture I took yesterday.” He handed it to Thud, who looked at it carefully. “It’s harder than hell to find in a car. Just off Highway 6 east of the town of Tonopah, there’s this random missile on a pedestal pointing up at the sky and an ominous sign that says tonopah test range, operated by sandia national laboratory for the department of energy.”

Thud handed the photo to Michelle. “The Department of Energy? Why do they have an air base?”

“I have no idea. It probably has something to do with you-know-what…”

“Nuclear.”

“That’s the only interesting thing the DOE does that would put them in the desert that I know about. Anyway, whatever it’s for, they’re not doing it now.”

“How much would it cost to do this?”

Luke nodded. “I’m not sure, exactly. But the U.S. bought all twenty-one MiGs and all the missiles and spare parts for forty million. The base is empty. I figure we lease eight MiGs—maybe nine, one two-seat trainer—and the air base. It’s got to cost a lot less than buying all of them did.”

“So how much money total you talking about raising?”

“I don’t know,” Luke said, glancing at Katherine. “Maybe a hundred mil.”

Thud almost choked. “Dollars?” He laughed out loud. “Are you out of your mind? Where you going to get that kind of money?”

This was the part Luke hadn’t wanted to bring up. He knew what it would do to Thud to hear it. It could ruin everything, and would put Luke’s credibility and Thud’s friendship at risk. “Your father.”

Thud stared at his friend as if he had just been betrayed for the first time in his life. “Oh, I get it,” Thud said bitterly. “You need me to pimp my father for dough.”

“No, I don’t. It’s got nothing to do with it. I’m happy to go anywhere for money. If you know a couple of other billionaires that might be able to fund us, let me know. And if some of them are former fighter pilots from Vietnam, like your father, that would be even better.”

“Ain’t happening, Stick. We’re not even on speaking terms.”

Luke looked at Katherine, who wasn’t about to say anything. “Yeah, help me with that. Your father flew Thuds in Vietnam. One of the few black fighter pilots in the war. And he holds it against you that you’re a TOPGUN instructor?”

“He didn’t want me to fly. He wanted me to go into business with him. His multizillion-dollar business. That’s why I was a business major. Then, when I told him I wanted to go into the Navy and fly, he did a total meltdown. I don’t think his Vietnam experience was all that positive. He always said, ‘Don’t trust the government! Ever!’ Like a mantra. ‘Don’t trust the government! Don’t trust the government!’ ”

“So I can’t ask him?”

“I didn’t say that. But I’m not asking him for anything.”

Good enough for Luke. “So what do you think? You willing to get out to do this if we can pull it off ?”

“I’ll have to think about it.” Thud looked at Michelle, who was giving him one of those spousal frowns that says, “You’d better talk to me before answering that question.” “I’ll have to think about it a lot. But it sure sounds like a kick.”

“Your father isn’t our only idea,” Katherine said. “If he isn’t interested, I know some other investors in Silicon Valley. We can go to venture capitalists if we need to. This isn’t the usual sort of thing they like to invest in, but who knows? Maybe they’ll branch out a little.”