One of the two VM-T's was at Ramenskoya, sometimes called Zhukovsky, outside Moscow, and the other at the Dyagilevo Air Force training base at Ryazan, about a hundred miles southeast of Moscow. Since both were actually military bases, Frank had to obtain special permission to gain access. Gorneliev proved efficient at getting the passes and making arrangements. Frank decided to examine both the Ramenskoya Buran and the VM-T first. The Buran was stored indoors in an otherwise empty hangar. From the outside, it appeared virtually complete, and he found little corrosion. The interior had been gutted; the lifting arm and everything else in the cargo bay was missing. There was even a hole in the top of the fuselage where the airlock/docking collar had been removed. But the pilot's cabin and instruments seemed intact. Frank was pleased. This Buran was originally a 'flight' Buran, one of the latest, and appeared to be ready to be updated and restored to flight status. He was especially pleased that every one of the thousands of heat tiles remained in place. He decided to accept the Buran as the incomplete version noted in the contract. He already had Gorneliev's promise that base personnel would try to locate any of the missing parts.
Frank was given special permission and an escort to inspect the VM-T Atlant. The escort was a grizzled Air Force sergeant whose English was only fair, but who seemed very familiar with the VM-T, and very proud of it. "Iss fine airplane," the sergeant proclaimed. "Iss old, but fine airplane. Very strong" He looked sad. "Too bad iss now for scrap."
When Frank, speaking slowly, told him that it was possible the VM-T might be renovated and fly again, the sergeant was delighted. He dragged Frank over, under and through the aircraft, often forgetting his English and rattling on in Russian. Frank asked why it was being stored outside. "Iss old," the sergeant replied. He told Frank that the plane had been stored indoors for many years, but had been moved outside several years ago to free up hangar space. Frank had misgivings about the old plane, especially with the outdoor storage. Though it was stored outside, the corrosion did not appear unrepairable. The engines had not been turned in many years, and were expected to be unserviceable. But Frank's heart leapt as the old sergeant told him that plastic transport pods that had held the Buran, other Buran-related equipment and even the huge Energia booster were still stored there. Frank began to hope the other VM-T might be in better shape, but he was reconsidering the practicality of even renovating this one, if necessary.
At Frank's request, Gorneliev provided him a driver and authorization to visit Dyagilevo Air Base at Ryazan, about 100 miles south of Moscow. It was primarily a training base, but it also housed mothballed large aircraft, including the other VM-T.
It was a long ride, and Frank hoped it would be worth the trip. It was. The VM-T at Dyagilevo had been carefully mothballed, cocooned to protect it from the ravages of weather and time. Engine inlets and outlets were plugged, and the entire aircraft had been painted with some sort of thick preservative. Frank had to take most of the condition report on faith; the thick coating prevented entry into the aircraft, and only special inspection ports existed for the base personnel to make certain the corrosion did not take hold. But those openings revealed shiny aluminum and equally shiny stainless on the engine parts.
Frank hated to do it, but during the return ride from Dyagilevo, he called a business friend in the U.S. that did a lot of business in the Russian capital, and asked him to recommend a dependable agent in Moscow he could hire to negotiate some services for him. Naturally, the friend offered the services of his own agent, but Frank declined. Finally, he was reluctantly referred to a man his friend "heard was good."
Then he had an idea, and decided to call Dr. Ternayev at Energia instead. When he explained his problem, Ternayev took less than a minute to retrieve the telephone number of a friend, an aeronautical engineer who formerly worked at Tupelev.
"Formerly?"
He could almost hear Ternayev's shrug. "He can become very passionate, and sometimes lacks tact. But he is an excellent engineer, and is easily qualified to do an evaluation. His English is not bad, either. Maybe not so good as mine, but not bad. If you would like, I will call Valery for you right now."
Valery's examination of the first VM-T confirmed Frank's own; it was too far gone for economical renovation.
There was a bit of a problem at Dyagilevo, though. The custodians did not want to break into the VM-T's cocoon to permit close inspection. It took a call from Gorneliev to make them agree.
And the news was good. The careful preservation work had made the VM-T "easily" salvageable, to use Valery's term. "Though you might wish to upgrade the engines," he added. Even better, the Soviets had registered the VM-T's as civilian aircraft, and once renovated, the VM-T would be welcome at most any airport large enough to handle it.
Frank called David at Baikonur, and told him to get back to Moscow as soon as possible to take charge of the renovation of the VM-T. As a U. S. Air Force officer, David was intimately familiar with aircraft maintenance, repair, and upgrading.
"They've decided they will rent us a hangar at Ramenskoye to work on the Buran and the VM-T," he told David. "That means the VM-T will have to be brought up here by truck or rail, and that means removing the wings. At any rate, when you get it here, the VM-T is the highest priority. This was a 1960's bomber, which means it's probably a gas hog. Try to upgrade the engines to modern, fuel-efficient ones. We're more interested in payload and range than speed."
David frowned. "Are you sure you want to go with a 40-year-old airframe?" he asked.
Frank shrugged. "There's always a risk to everything. The secret to getting rich is to know which risks are worth taking, and which are not."
"And you think this one is worth taking?"
"Look at it this way, David. I'd have made the investment whether the deal included a VM-T or not. I threw it in because I always try to get maximum return, and I was already getting everything I expected. Gorneliev knew it, too. He threw it in to sweeten the pot.
"So, you might say I got the airplane for free. As for its age, there are still DC-3's flying, and they were last built in 1937. These things flew over 150 flights hauling Burans, boosters, tanks, and who knows what all. It's a solid, dependable airframe. If you can upgrade it for half a million, I'll be a happy camper. How many AN-225 flights could I charter for half a mil?"
David shrugged. "You've got a point. Okay, I'll do my best."
Frank clapped him on the shoulder. "I know you will. You want to get into space again. Y'know, you might want to get checked out on it yourself, so you can pilot it."
David's grin reappeared. "Now, that sounds interesting. Flying a shuttle from the outside!"
Frank told Gorneliev that he would accept the Energia test model as one of the two 'operational' orbiters cited in the contract, and the Dyagilevo VM-T to satisfy that part of the contract. Gorneliev sounded pleased, and referred him to someone at Dyagilevo who could arrange the transfer to Ramenskoye. Unfortunately, that individual did not speak English, so his secretary translated. After frequent mention of Gorneliev's name, the man agreed to work with David on moving the big aircraft.
Chapter 4
"Weatherly?" the voice on the phone said, without preamble. "Frank Weatherly? The great Capitalist Yankee Imperialist Pig himself?"
"Ah," Frank replied with a smile, "This must be Oh-Wow Bernardez, Protector of the Downtrodden and general Pain in the Ass. I haven't talked to you since that college reunion, what, ten years ago? Fifteen?"
Joao Bernardez chuckled. "More like fifteen. You were still working on your first billion."
Frank chuckled. "And you were still planning to seize power in Brazil and become a benign despot."
"Yes, well," Joao replied, "that did not work out. It seems the downtrodden prefer freedom to a dictator, even a benign one. Who'd have believed it?"