by Dale Brown
In Memoriam
Once again, this novel is dedicated to my son, Hunter Dale Brown. My fondest memories of him are when I gave him his first bath in my kitchen sink when he was about a week old, with his mom looking on in terror; his high school graduation party on the shores of Lake Tahoe; his Eagle Scout court of honor; and collaborating on my novel Strike Force when he was just nine years old, tossing ideas back and forth as I drove him home from school.
Like his old man, Hunter was quiet, a little shy, and fiercely loyal to those who got to know him. He was a hard worker, the go-to IT guy, a great teacher, and the best son Diane and I could have ever wished for.
Life is nothing but the soul’s never-ending journey through time and space, and I’m happy that Hunter’s came into our lives. We love and miss you, big guy. Enjoy the rest of your journey.
Epigraph
We had discovered an accursed country. We had found the Home of the Blizzard.
—Sir Douglas Mawson, polar explorer
I will find a way out or make one.
—Attributed to Robert Peary, Arctic explorer
Contents
Cover
Title Page
In Memoriam
Epigraph
Cast of Characters
Prologue
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-One
Twenty-Two
Twenty-Three
Twenty-Four
Twenty-Five
Twenty-Six
Twenty-Seven
Twenty-Eight
Twenty-Nine
Thirty
Thirty-One
Thirty-Two
Thirty-Three
Thirty-Four
Thirty-Five
Thirty-Six
Thirty-Seven
Thirty-Eight
Thirty-Nine
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
Weapons and Acronyms
About the Author
Also by Dale Brown
Copyright
About the Publisher
Cast of Characters
Americans
captain nicholas “nick” flynn, U.S. Air Force intelligence officer, assigned undercover to Wizard One-One, an HH-60W “Jolly Green II” combat search-and-rescue helicopter
captain scott “fx” dykstra, U.S. Air Force, command pilot, Wizard One-One
technical sergeant carl “zee” zalewski, U.S. Air Force, pararescue jumper assigned to Wizard One-One
captain kate “ghost” kasper, U.S. Air Force, copilot, Wizard One-One
staff sergeant bill wade, U.S. Air Force, flight engineer and gunner, Wizard One-One
technical sergeant mike camarillo, U.S. Air Force, pararescue jumper assigned to Wizard One-One
“anderson white,” head of an OGA “Other Government Agency” (CIA) black ops team
sergeant first class andy takirak, Alaska Army National Guard, senior noncommissioned officer assigned to Captain Nick Flynn’s Joint Force security team
pete johansson, civilian maintenance supervisor, Barter Island Long Range Radar Site, Kaktovik, Alaska
smitty walz, civilian electronics technician, Barter Island Long Range Radar Site
marta mcintyre, civilian cook and “gofer,” Barter Island Long Range Radar Site
senior airman mark “m-squared” mitchell, U.S. Air Force, communications specialist assigned to Flynn’s Joint Force security team
private first class cole hynes, U.S. Army, assigned to Joint Force security team
trig jensen, hermit trapper working the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge in Alaska
miranda reynolds, head of the CIA’s Directorate of Operations
jonas murphy, U.S. Director of National Intelligence
bill taylor, U.S. Secretary of Defense
rear admiral kristin chao, U.S. Navy, head of the Pentagon’s operations directorate
general frank neary, U.S. Air Force, Chief of Staff
staff sergeant peggy baker, 176th Air Defense Squadron, Alaska Air National Guard, radar specialist, Joint Base Elmendorf-Richardson, Alaska
lieutenant colonel carmen reyes, 176th Air Defense Squadron, Alaska Air National Guard, operations center supervisor, Joint Base Elmendorf-Richardson
specialist rafael sanchez, U.S. Army, Carl Gustaf 84mm recoilless rifle gunner attached to Flynn’s Joint Force security team
private wade vucovich, U.S. Army, assigned to Joint Force security team
major jack “ripper” ingalls, 211th Rescue Squadron, Alaska Air National Guard, HC-130J Super Hercules pilot
captain laura “skater” van horn, 211th Rescue Squadron, Alaska Air National Guard, HC-130J copilot
general keith makowski, U.S. Air Force, commander, North American Aerospace Defense Command (NORAD)
captain amanda jaffe, U.S. Air Force, Information Integration Officer, RC-135V Rivet Joint ELINT (Electronic Intelligence) aircraft
technical sergeant philip kijac, cryptologic language analyst, RC-135V Rivet Joint aircraft
colonel leonard huber, U.S. Air Force, commander, Third Wing, Joint Base Elmendorf-Richardson
captain connor “doc” mcfadden, U.S. Air Force, F-22 Raptor fighter pilot
lieutenant allison “cat” parilla, U.S. Air Force, F-22 Raptor fighter pilot
major king, 176th Wing, Alaska Air National Guard, liaison officer to Third Wing
lieutenant general david rosenthal, U.S. Air Force, commander, Alaskan Command (ALCOM), Joint Base Elmendorf-Richardson
private first class torvald pedersen, U.S. Army, designated rifle marksman for Flynn’s Joint Force security team
airman peter kim, U.S. Air Force, assigned to Joint Force security team
staff sergeant tim wahl, Alaska Air National Guard, HC-130J Super Hercules loadmaster
private noah boyd, U.S. Army, assigned to Joint Force security team
private mike sims, U.S. Army, assigned to Joint Force security team
private floyd leffert, U.S. Army, assigned to Joint Force security team
private gene santarelli, U.S. Army, assigned to Joint Force security team
Russians
colonel alexei petrov, Russian Air Force test pilot in charge of the PAK-DA prototype stealth bomber flight test program
mikhail ivanin, CEO of the Tupolev aerospace and defense company
georgy remizov, Tupolev corporate test pilot
dmitri grishin, oligarch and CEO of Severnaya Zvezda Stolitsa (North Star Capital), one of Russia’s largest industrial and financial conglomerates
dr. viktor obolensky, neurologist employed at the Bekhterev Private Clinic in Moscow
major oleg bunin, Russian Air Force test copilot for the PAK-DA stealth bomber flight test program
pavel voronin, confidential assistant and troubleshooter for Grishin
sergei bondarovich, ex-Spetsnaz major now working for Voronin
piotr zhdanov, president of the Russian Federation
major general vasily mavrichev, Russian Air Force, commander of the Long-Range Aviation Force
lieutenant general yvgeny rogozin, commander, Russian Air Force
major valentin yakunin, Su-30 fighter pilot
captain ivan saltikov, Su-30 fighter weapons officer
konstantin yumashev, head of the Federal Security Service,
the FSB
gennadiy kokorin, Minister of Defense
admiral nikolai golitsyn, commander, Russian Navy
sergei veselovsky, head of the Foreign Intelligence Service, the SVR
aleksandr ivashin, head of the General Staff’s military intelligence agency, the GRU
major vadim kuryokhin, Russian Air Force, Su-35S fighter pilot
captain ilya troitsky, Russian Air Force, Su-35S fighter pilot
colonel iosif zinchuk, Russian Air Force, commander, Tu-142 maritime reconnaissance aircraft
captain sukachov, Russian Air Force, Tu-142 defense systems operator
lieutenant gorsheniov, Russian Air Force, Tu-142 second navigator
captain yuri bashalachev, Russian Air Force, Tu-142 bombardier-navigator
captain arkady timonov, Russian Spetsnaz special forces, commander, reconnaissance-attack team outside Joint Base Elmendorf-Richardson
lieutenant leonid brykin, Russian Spetsnaz special forces team outside Joint Base Elmendorf-Richardson
captain first rank mikhail nakhimov, Russian Navy, commander, SSBN BS-64 Podmoskovye
senior lieutenant anatoly yalinsky, Russian Navy, diving officer, SSBN BS-64 Podmoskovye
major gennady korenev, Russian Spetsnaz special forces, commander, Raven assault force
captain primakov, Russian Spetsnaz special forces, second-in-command, Raven assault force
colonel general anatoly gruzdev, commander, Russian Strategic Rocket Forces
Canadian
peter gowan, Royal Canadian Air Force, deputy commander, North American Aerospace Defense Command (NORAD)
Prologue
Kazan Aircraft Production Plant, Kazan, Russia
Late July
Rays of summer sunlight streamed through rows of windows set high up along one drab concrete wall of the huge assembly hall. They lit sections of a large, futuristic-looking blended-wing aircraft: the first flyable prototype of Tupolev’s top secret PAK-DA stealth bomber. A protruding nose and the large, rounded cockpit canopy surrounded by narrow engine intakes along the wing’s leading edge explained the nickname it had acquired in construction, Skat, or Devilfish. So did the multiple elevons and other control surfaces lining the wing’s trailing edge. Seen from above, the aircraft’s unusual configuration gave it the look of a manta ray gliding silently across the ocean floor.
Intended to match and even surpass America’s operational B-2 Spirit and next-generation B-21 Raider stealth bombers, the PAK-DA was a subsonic aircraft with a planned range of more than twelve thousand kilometers. Two powerful NK-65 turbofan engines, each producing more than sixty thousand pounds of thrust, would enable it to carry thirty metric tons of payload—both long-range stealth cruise missiles and shorter-ranged air-to-air missiles for self-defense—in internal weapons bays. The bomber’s own stealth characteristics, new sensor systems, electronics, and flight controls were designed to allow its wartime crew of four to penetrate advanced enemy air defenses without being detected. All told, this prototype was the culmination of a top secret research-and-development program that had already consumed many years and hundreds of billions of rubles.
Russian Air Force Colonel Alexei Petrov slid out through an opening on the aircraft’s belly and dropped nimbly onto the assembly hall floor, ignoring the ladder fitted to the hatch. In his midforties, the veteran test pilot was still trim and fit, though flecks of gray dusted his dark brown hair. Smiling broadly, he nodded to the knot of Tupolev design engineers, senior executives, and company test pilots waiting for him. “My congratulations, gentlemen. You’ve built a beautiful machine. I’m looking forward to putting it through its paces in the weeks and months ahead.”
His praise for their work drew answering smiles from the engineers and executives. In contrast, the rugged faces of Tupolev’s own experienced civilian pilots stiffened slightly at the unwelcome reminder that they were being bypassed. Desperate to show the world that Russia could still compete militarily with the United States and China, the Kremlin had ordered this new strategic bomber program accelerated by every means necessary. Delivering the PAK-DA prototype directly to Petrov and his team without the usual sequence of carefully monitored corporate test flights would shave months off the process of certifying the design for full-scale production and deployment to operational regiments.
“When would you like us to arrange the formal handover?” Mikhail Ivanin, Tupolev’s burly CEO, asked carefully.
“As soon as possible,” Petrov replied. “But not here in Kazan. Let’s take care of that business down at Chkalov instead.”
The other man pursed his lips. The Air Force’s Valery Chkalov flight test center was nearly nine hundred kilometers south of Kazan. Named after one of the old Soviet Union’s most famous and daring test pilots, the range was now specially equipped to handle experimental advanced stealth aircraft. Transferring the bomber prototype there right away would definitely speed up the process of validating its flight characteristics and systems. Unfortunately, it also meant assigning Tupolev’s own specialist mechanics to the distant base for a prolonged period. They would be needed to train Air Force ground crews to maintain the PAK-DA’s complex avionics and advanced radar-absorbent coatings. The hassle factor for the company and its employees would be high. So would the added expense. Then again, Moscow’s orders were clear: whatever Petrov and his team wanted, they would get.
Glancing at the unhappy faces of Tupolev’s own pilots, Petrov threw them a bone. “Your guys can bring the bomber down. After all, it’s only fair that they have the honor of taking the Devilfish up for its first flight.”
With a curt nod, Ivanin crooked a finger, signaling the senior company flier over to join them. Georgy Remizov was a short, stocky, round-faced man a few years older than Petrov himself. He’d flown high-performance combat aircraft for the Air Force before resigning to join Tupolev when Russia’s post-Soviet military went through one of its periodic belt-tightenings. Perfunctory introductions completed, the CEO excused himself. “For now, I’ll leave you to work out the details with Georgy, Colonel. But feel free to contact me if you need anything else.”
Then he hurried away, almost as though he feared Petrov would make some new outrageously expensive demand if he lingered any longer. The two pilots watched him go with some amusement. “Chief Executive Ivanin has a superb head for numbers and budgets,” Remizov murmured.
“But he’s no aviator?”
“I think he sometimes wishes we built locomotives or automobiles instead of aircraft,” Remizov confided. “I hear he gets airsick above the fourth floor of any building.”
With the Tupolev test pilot pacing him, Petrov strolled toward the nearest exit from the huge aircraft assembly hall. The armed guards posted there stiffened to attention. He threw them a casual salute and then glanced down at the shorter man. “Well? Any questions?”
Remizov shook his head. “None.” A lopsided smile flashed across his face and then vanished. “I anticipated your . . . request. I’ve already worked out a flight plan with contingencies for any possible teething troubles. We’ll never be more than a few minutes’ flying time from potential abort fields during the whole trip south to Chkalov.”
“Very good,” Petrov said in approval, and he meant it. The first few flight hours were always the most dangerous in any new aircraft. No matter how thoroughly you scrubbed a revolutionary design in wind tunnels and computer simulations, things could still go badly wrong under real-world conditions. “I appreciate your attention to detail.”
Remizov shrugged. “I had a good teacher.” This time his smile was more genuine. “I served under your father as a junior pilot, Colonel.” He shook his head admiringly. “The general was one tough son of a bitch, that’s for sure. Without mercy for fuckups. But we were sharp as razors by the time he finished with us.” His eyes narrowed as he quoted from memory, “‘Train hard. Plan thoroughly. Act fast. Those are the keys to victory.’”
Petrov hid a grimace. Would he never es
cape his father’s shadow? Even now, years after the old man’s final heart attack finished him, devoted acolytes of Hero of the Soviet Union, Major General Vladimir Petrov, seemed to turn up wherever he went. It was maddening, even if understandable. As a young lieutenant, the older Petrov had won his spurs and his medals as a “volunteer” flying secret combat missions against the Americans over North Vietnam and then again against the Israelis during the October War in 1973. Credited with several kills, he was renowned as the top-scoring Russian fighter pilot since the Korean War. In later years, he’d risen rapidly in rank, leading ever-larger frontline Air Force units equipped with the best aircraft. If his heart hadn’t given out, the famous Major General Petrov could easily have someday commanded all of Russia’s aerospace forces.
In sharp contrast, Alexei Petrov knew with some bitterness that his own career, though marked by praise, promotion, and medals for peacetime flying exploits, would never match that of his father. At his age, this assignment to lead the PAK-DA stealth bomber flight test program represented his last real chance to shine. But once he finished vetting the new aircraft and its systems, he would undoubtedly be shunted off to a desk and relative obscurity somewhere inside the Ministry of Defense bureaucracy. After that, he could look forward to wasting years dealing with dull reports before finally being put out to pasture on a wholly inadequate state pension.
Oblivion and poverty—not exactly attractive prospects, he thought coldly as he made his farewell to Remizov and left the vast Tupolev factory. Which made it much easier to contemplate taking a very different path in life. And imagining how the course of action he was now considering would have horrified his father—always so rigidly attentive to his duty—made it even more appealing.
A couple of hours outside Kazan, Petrov swung his IRBIS touring motorbike off the crowded highway and onto a narrow, tree-lined road. He opened the throttle, smoothly accelerating as the track curved back to the west. The sensation of speed as trees flashed past, more blurs than distinct shapes, was exhilarating. Through openings in the woods on his right, he caught glimpses of an enormous stretch of dark blue water, the vast Cheboksary Reservoir created by damming the Volga River. Off on the left, wheat and barley fields surrounded small farming villages. Apart from a couple of old tractors trundling across the fields and faded clothes drying outside rundown cottages, there were few signs of people.
