***
Fred Thomas was the lead of the three attorneys he kept on retainer. He'd represented Frank for years, and had been nagging him to get back into business. Frank called him after checking the time zones.
"I'm going to need a lawyer to negotiate a contract with a foreign government," Frank told him. "It'll take about a month."
He could practically hear the grin in Fred's voice. "A month on your expense account? I'll clear my calendar. Tell me it's somewhere with balmy breezes and pretty girls."
"How does Rio de Janeiro sound at this time of year?" Frank asked.
"Rio! On you? Great!" Fred replied enthusiastically.
"Too bad," Frank replied. "It's in Brasilia, Brazil. And don't noise it around."
"Bastard. Are you sure I can't do it in Rio?"
"Nope." It's gotta be Brasilia. How's your Portuguese?" Frank asked, grinning.
"Nada. Zip."
"Well, I guess the girls are safe, then," Frank said, "and I won't have to worry about a paternity suit. Who else is available for another trip? This one's to Russia and Ukraine, probably last a week or two."
"I think Sandy has a visa for Russia. I'll have him call you." Suddenly there was pleasure in Fred's voice. "You're back, aren't you? Back in the game?
"Well," Frank replied, "Back in a game. But you're not gonna believe it."
"Tell me."
"I can't," Frank replied. "Open line. Set up a secure voice connection and I'll brief you."
The hotel had a phone that could accept a secure connection in their 'business center'. Susan stood guard at the door while Frank talked to Fred.
He summarized the project to the flabbergasted Fred, and told him what he was to negotiate in Brasilia. In all, they spent nearly an hour on the secure phone.
"Oh," Frank said as they were about to terminate the connection. "Tell Sandy his first stop is Kiev, Ukraine. He's to review a contract for a cargo flight at Antonov Airlines. I'll be coming in behind him to sign it if it's okay.
"Then he'll head to Moscow, where he will review a formal contract. I'll probably catch up with him there. I'll be faxing a copy of the informal contract that everyone signed. Basically, he's to just make sure there have been no substantive changes, so I can sign it when I get there. Have him call me at this number on a secure line for the details."
"When do you want me to head for Brazil?" Fred asked.
"What, you're still there?"
"All right, Frank. I'll jump a flight as soon as I can arrange a visa. Should I meet you there?"
Frank shook his head before realizing that Fred couldn't see him. "No, I won't be here, Fred. I'll be on my way to Ukraine, to meet up with Sandy."
"Gotcha, Frank," Fred replied. "I'll get Sandy on a plane ASAP."
He finished up by calling Almendes and telling him of Fred's imminent arrival. He gave Almendes Fred's name, and told him it would probably be a few days before Fred arrived. "Would it be possible to arrange to visit Alcântara, to get an idea of the layout?" he asked.
"It may be possible," Almendes replied slowly. "Remember, the military control security up there. I suspect it would take as much as a week to arrange."
Frank wasn't surprised. "Well, I'll be traveling for a couple of weeks, now. Do you think a pass could be arranged by the time I get back?"
"I will try," Almendes replied "But the military can be unpredictable. If they get sticky, they may refuse because there is no contract yet. If I were to accompany you, of course it could be done; but I cannot leave here now."
"I understand," Frank replied. "Please try. I could also use aerial photos of the area, and information about transportation availability. I understand there is a shipping port at São Luis, just across the bay from Alcântara."
"Yes, Itaqui. But it mostly handles bulk grain shipments. I do not know what cargo handling equipment it has. It is a real seaport, however, not just a fishing port."
"That's good," Frank replied. "I'll try to research it and find out. I'm going to be moving a lot of cargo, and having a seaport just across the bay could be invaluable. I'll also need to know where the nearest air port with at least a 3500 meter runway is located. Some of that freight will be coming by air, on a big airplane."
Susan chartered a business version of the Boeing 737, as it was the smallest aircraft with the range needed for a flight to Kiev, Ukraine. She had determined that they would not need a visa. She had also contacted Antonov Airlines, and they would have a car available at Boryspil International Airport to pick them up and drive them to Gostomel Airport, the cargo-only airport that was the home field of the AN-225.
It was a long flight, but Frank spent most of it getting to know this fascinating new creature that had entered his life. Finally, though, sleep overtook them.
***
A month later, everything was underway. Contracts had been signed with both the Russians and the Brazilians, a cargo ship loaded with Buran parts, tools, and machinery had left St. Petersburg Russia bound for the port of Itaqui at São Luis, Brazil. Freight from Baikonur had arrived in Belem, Brazil in an Antonov AN-124, smaller brother of the AN-225, and transshipped by a tramp steamer to Itaqui. A large hangar was nearly complete at the Alcântara Launch Center, and a 3,500-meter runway was under construction. Ugly gray ferrocement buildings had erupted all over the complex to accommodate the small army of Brazilian construction workers and techs, Japanese computer designers, and a multi-national force of space experts, many ex-NASA, that had invaded the quiet launch site. Frank and Susan were living in a small, sparsely furnished apartment while their house was being built.
David had the VM-T aircraft up and flying, and was getting himself qualified to pilot it. He was waiting impatiently for the hangar and runway to be completed.
Frank had flown to Tokyo, where he had met secretly with the heads of three mid-sized computer companies. He knew all of the men, of course; he had dealt with them for years. He suggested they form a consortium to contract with him to provide computer services including onboard navigation and control systems, electronic control systems, a complete base operations system, communications systems, and a complete intranet system for his installation at Alcântara. The contract would specify that no technology requiring a U.S. export license was to be used in any of the systems. He gave them a month to put together the consortium and an offer, and explained that it would be necessary for them to make their presentation in Brazil. He had no doubt they would be able and willing to do the job; it was one he'd have killed for when he was running his company.
That was his last trip out of Brazil. Interest was picking up worldwide. Rumors were flying that Frank Weatherly was doing something connected with space, and spending a lot of money. Interest in space-related stocks began to pick up. Several American space-tech companies contacted Frank, and he had to tell them he couldn't do business with them.
The U.S. government was beginning to show an interest, as well. David reported that two Americans claiming to be from the U.S. Embassy in Moscow had visited Ramenskoye asking questions about the VM-T, which fortunately, David had been working on at the time. David told them he was restoring an antique aircraft, and took them on a very lengthy and boring tour of the old airplane, pointing out cables and levers in tedious detail while carefully steering them away from the hangar containing the Buran. The old orbiter had already been partially stripped, so David simply verified that it was under the 100,000-pound limit, removed its vertical tailfin, and had it cocooned in the plastic shipping container built for it. Once the VM-T was flight-ready and tested, the huge special-purpose crane would lift the Buran into place, and everyone hoped it would be flown to Alcântara without incident.