James Huston - Fallout

“Yes, right to business.” Yushaf sat down in the threadbare chair across the coffee table from Merewether. “I understand you had a meeting recently. About starting a new TOPGUN school. It would be called the Nevada Fighter Weapons School and would use the U.S. MiG-29s from Wright-Patterson Air Force Base. They would fly out of Tonopah airfield in Nevada.”

Merewether’s eyes narrowed. “How the hell do you know that ?”

“A friend told me,” he said innocently. “It is my understanding, in fact, that the two naval officers are planning on resigning their commissions for the sole purpose of starting the school. I didn’t know it was secret.”

“It’s not secret. But it just happened last week. I’m surprised you heard about it.” Merewether studied him. “How exactly did you hear about it?”

“Let’s just say that you are not my only friend in Washington.”

Merewether was annoyed. “What’s your point?”

“It is my understanding that you turned them down and told them it would never work.”

“It’s impractical. They haven’t even thought it through well enough yet.”

“I must differ,” the Pakistani said. “It sounds brilliant to me, and it would alleviate the pressure that currently exists on TOPGUN and Red Flag to get more people through the school.”

“Why does it matter to you?” Merewether demanded.

Yushaf shrugged, then paused. “I simply want you to make the best decisions you can,” he replied. “But of course I do have an interest of my own,” he continued, “and perhaps, one day, it could all work out. As you know, I want to get some of my pilots through your schools. It is not asking much. It is asking only what you have already promised, but so far…”

“You continue to remind me.”

“So maybe this could be the solution we both need. Let my pilots come through this new school instead of TOPGUN.”

“How do you figure I need this?”

“It could solve some of your problems, with people like me. And if you help me , your good friend… who knows? Perhaps I could help you, too.” His hand went up as if in sudden recollection. “In fact, you’ve mentioned to me that you dislike this apartment.” He looked around and nodded with understanding. “I’m sympathetic to that. A man of your stature should have a residence worthy of his position. Sadly, that was taken from you in a way that was outside your control. One of our embassy staff has been called back to Pakistan. Unfortunately, he just entered into a very long-term lease on a beautiful American house. He is no longer there, and the house sits empty.” He looked at Merewether to evaluate his next sentence. “Who knows? Perhaps you could house-sit it until he comes back. And who knows when that will be? It could be a couple of years.”

“Do you think I’m stupid ?” Merewether asked.

Yushaf realized he had miscalculated. “Of course not. Why would you ask me that?”

“Lunches are one thing. A loaner car is one thing. But the use of a house for two years? That’s worth thousands of dollars!”

“It is yours if you are interested. I certainly do not want you to feel obligated. I know that house-sitting can be a burden when the house is furnished with Persian rugs and a state-of-the-art home theater system and the like. You’d have to take care of all of that. I understand it might be asking too much.”

“Cut the bullshit. You’re trying to influence my decision.”

Yushaf smiled. “Of course I am. That is my job with the Pakistani embassy, to influence America to be a closer friend than it already is. What is wrong with that?”

“Nothing, until you start offering me things.” Merewether was angry and tempted.

“Consider all that I have said withdrawn. I do not understand the American culture as well as I should. I did not intend to offer anything, simply to exchange conveniences.”

“This private TOPGUN school would be nothing but a headache for me. A bunch of contracts, new applications for quotas by Navy and Air Force pilots. I’m sure it would cost the government money.”

“I thought they would be paying the U.S. government leases on the airplanes and airfield.”

“Yes, but they’ll be charging for each American student that goes through.”

Yushaf smelled an opening. He sat forward on the chair edge. He gestured enthusiastically with his hands. “But if those numbers are equal, it will cost the government nothing .”

“What?”

“If you charge them enough to lease the airplanes and the airfield to put the military officers through the school, the net cost to the government would be zero. And then charge double—or triple —for the foreign students. Make up the difference and then some. You could lease the airfield and the airplanes to the school in exchange for a certain number of American pilots to go through. Even even. Then have foreign aircrew come through and charge them two or three times what the equivalent rate was for Americans. They would understand that. They would be willing to pay. The school would be profitable as a going concern, and the United States would be putting out no money at all.”

Merewether looked at him unenthusiastically. “It would still be a pain in the ass.”

“I don’t think so. You could delegate to the right person, who could handle most of the details. You might look like a hero for finding a way to relieve all the pressure to get more aircrew trained. Everybody wants to go through the school, but very few ever get to. Open it up a little bit.”

Merewether shook his head vaguely. “How would your pilots even get there? Would they fly all the way from Pakistan?”

“No. I have been in touch with several states about leasing four of their F-16Cs from their Air National Guard units for our pilots to fly. They were more than willing.”

“Which states?” Merewether asked, stunned.

“California has already agreed.”

“Before we have even agreed?”

“I have to make many plans.”

“Whatever,” Merewether said, losing interest.

The Pakistani decided to fire his last arrow. “It might also alleviate another looming problem for you.”

“Like what?”

Yushaf stood up and walked around his chair as if he were about to leave. “I have heard that ever since those MiGs were bought, the United States has been anxious to test the missiles.”

Merewether was startled. “What missiles?”

“The five hundred Russian-made air-to-air missiles that were bought from Moldova with the MiG 29s—”

“How did you know that ?”

“And when the MiGs were purchased, there was a guarantee issued that those missiles would be test-fired, and the Navy and Air Force would know, from the telemetry, every last thing there was to know about them.” The Pakistani spoke slowly, as if quoting a document that he had seen.

“How in the hell did you get that?”

“As I said, you are not my only friend.”

Merewether was dumbfounded.

“Don’t you see?” the Pakistani said encouragingly. “The reason the missiles have not been test-fired is that there are no airplanes in the United States that can fire them as they were designed to be fired. It takes the MiG radars as well. No one has flown the MiGs since they have been purchased.

“If you allow these Navy Lieutenants and their new TOPGUN school to be your test facility, to keep the radars up, to load the missiles and test-fire them for you—you could even pay them for that—you would be a hero in the intelligence world, and everyone would then have access to the telemetry, and the Russian missiles would be known by United States military.”

Merewether frowned. “Those Navy Lieutenants said they would disarm the MiGs. This would mean that they would have to keep them as legitimate fighters, capable of firing missiles.”