The Russian acted as if she had just given him the crown jewels.
Sergei examined every seam and stitch in the jacket, muttering the strange English words he found on the buttons, then carefully folded it and hid it far back on the shelf of his locker.
"I can make a fortune here," Angelina said as she pulled the coat over her shivering shoulders. "I've got a whole closet of those old beat-up jackets. "Her face brightened as, for the first time in hours, she felt her body warming up.
"Come," Sergei said in Russian. "Back to business. "He led the group outside. They climbed into a waiting Zadiv p truck and drove down the flightline.
Over the clatter of the truck's ancient heater, which stubbornly refused to emit any heat despite the racket, E said, "Keep an eye out for a fuel truck or fuel pumps "What do they say on them?" McLanahan asked, keeping his hand on the Smith and Wesson revolver in his pocket.
"I don't know."
Elliott breathed on the side window of the truck, which instantly froze.
Against the rumble and crunc motion of the truck he drew five Cyrillic characters-an with a flag on top of it, an "E," a backward "N," a c backward "E," and an "O."
"Binzuh," Elliott said.
means gasoline."
Sergei nodded and smiled… the old man was givin the youngsters a lesson in Russian. "Da," Sergei said in Russian. "We are going to get you gasoline."
"Look," Angelina said, pointing to the right.surrounded by a tall barbed-wire fence, was a white cylinder twenty feet high and about thirty feet in diameter A lone white tanker truck was parked beside it.
"Binzuh?" Elliott asked the Russian, pointing to the tank. The Russian glanced at the tank but continued driving, "Niyet," Sergei said, pointing ahead. "Not gasoline. Kerosene. Elliott showed his puzzlement, not understanding the words. Sergei kept on driving.
"Pahvirniti napravah," Elliott asked. "Turn right. "He pointed at the tank once again. Sergei shook his head.
McLanahan pulled out his revolver and held it to the Russian's temple.
"Do as the man says, tovarisch. "Sergei stiffened. Elliott nodded and pointed to the tank.
Sergei turned toward Elliott, clearly puzzled. What did they want?
"Does your boat use kerosene?" Sergei said in Russian.
"That will do you no good."
"Boat?" Elliott said, trying to decipher the words. "I understood boat but nothing else."
Sergei was pointing more emphatically toward a road nearb that headed east. "Diesel," Sergei said in Russian, pointing.
This way. Don't worry. I won't cheat you.
McLanahan pressed the revolver's muzzle against Sergei's head.
"Pazhaloosta," Sergei said, holding up his hands. "All right. "With a shrug of his shoulders he bullied the old truck into a right turn and headed for the tank. A few minutes later, ith McLanahan holding his revolver in sight but not aimed at him, Sergei had opened the gate to the tank compound and led the group inside.
Now he opened a belly valve on the tank truck parked next to the large above-ground tank and a few gallons of liquid spilled onto the snow.
Angelina bent down and sniffed.
"It smells like kerosene," she asked. "It's not jet fuel or gasoline.
What do we do?"
"We may have lucked out," Elliott said, reaching into an inner pocket and taking out a yellow hand-held survival radio.
Depressing a black button in the center, he turned a channel select switch to an unmarked frequency position and pushed the transmit button.
"John, how do you read?" Elliott spoke into the radio.
Aboard the Old Dog, John Ormack pulled the boom microphone of his headset closer to his lips and raised his voice over the noise of the number four engine idling in the background.
"Loud and clear. General. Where are you?Any luck?"
"We're good. We may have what we need. Double-check section five of the tech order. Check on the use of alternate fuels. We might have enough kerosene here… " "Stand by. "Ormack reached behind his seat and pulled out the Old Dog's technical order, the plane's instruction manual, found the listing and keyed his microphone.
"Got it, General. Kerosene is an approved alternate fuel may have trouble with it if it has no anti-icing additive, but we can fly with it.
How much do you have?"
"We got a tank truck that looks like it holds ten thousand gallons.
That's sixty thousand pounds."
"Should do it," Ormack asked. "Dave figured a minimum of fifty thousand to get us to Nome.
"We'll call you back when we're headed toward you.""A B-52 can use kerosene for fuel?" Angelina asked doubtfully "The books says it can," Elliott told her. He turned to the Russian. He was no longer smiling and jovial.
"Kak vasha imva?Atkooda vi?" the Russian said stiffly, "Who are you?
Where are you from?You are not fisherme "Sputniks," Elliott said, getting the bare gist of questions. "Travelers. "Sergei was still looking suspicious. Suddenly he snatched at the yellow survival radio, and before Elliott could grab it back Sergei had read U.S. AIR FORCE on a back instruction plate. McLanahan quickly raised his revolver to Sergei's head.
"I think we lost our buddy here, troops," Elliott said and pointed at the truck. "Patrick, check out that tank truck.
how much kerosene it has."
McLanahan gave his revolver to Angelina, who pointed it with some expertise at the Russian. McLanahan found a dipstick in the truck's cab, climbed on top of the truck checked the amount of fuel inside through a cap.
"Probably one-quarter full," he said.
"Not enough. Okay, tovarisch, " Elliott said in Russian want gasoline in truck. Mnye noozhna binzuh he ta on the truck. Sergei did not move, unsure.
"I'll convince him, General," Angelina said. She propelled the Russian around to the side of the truck where McLan was busy lifting a high-pressure hose. McLanahan fast one end of the hose onto the truck, the other to one of the valves rising from the ground. Angelina motioned to the truck with her revolver.
"Help him," she said. The Russian looked at McLan lugging the heavy hose, then blankly back at Angelina. Angelina cocked the revolver and held it to the Russian's forehead. "Now.
Sergei held up his hands and nodded, walked to McLanahan and gestured for him to reattach the hose at another valve, then removed and replaced the end of the hose at the truck. When the hose was fully attached Sergei opened the valves and kerosene began rushing from the tank to the truck. Minutes later the truck was full.
"Patrick, you drive the panel truck," Elliott asked. "Angelina, go with him. I'll ride with our buddy here in the tanker."
McLanahan ran over to the Zadiv, started it up and waited for Elliott and the Russian to get in the tanker.
"Pazhaloosta, " Elliott said when he and Sergei had climbed inside the icebox-like cab of the tanker. He gestured at the truck outside the fence, then pointed his pistol at the Russian.
"Vetam napravIvend. Please. This way."in= watched the muzzle of the.45.When Elliott ntly swung it too high he reached out with his right hand and tried to grab it away. He'd been a clown too long…
A shot rang out, and the windshield of the tanker truck exploded, showering them with shards of glass. Sergei leapt out of the truck, running back around the fence. No longer a hero.
McLanahan and Angelina caught a glimpse of him just as he disappeared down a line of trees that paralleled the flightline road, and Angelina took a shot at him but the bullet ricocheted harmlessly away.
McLanahan ran for the tanker and jumped into the cab.
"You all right, General?"
"Yes, dammit, but things are going to get tense here real quick. "He turned to Angelina as she came to the right side of the tanker. "Take the panel truck to the plane. Patrick and I will take the tanker.