“No Boss, it’s the Japanese. They insist on adding some cargo inside their Shinkansen.”
“What is it?”
“100 tons of cocaine.”
Primakov spat his decaf. “One hundred… Cocaine? But why?”
“Well, it seems like they want to add a twist. Apparently to add implications.”
“Like what?”
“Cartel implications.”
Primakov whistled. He probably needed Ruslan’s approval for transporting Cocaine. But the window was closing. He pulled the trigger, “Fine, whatever. It’s beef between the Japanese and Chinese. My only concern is the additional weight.”
“The Mriya II wouldn’t sweat it Boss. Our engineers guaranteed… So it’s a go?”
“Make it snappy. The Ukrainian Mriya is already on its way.”
Unlike the Road of Bones and other free labored projects strewn across Siberia, the city of Komsomolsk was built by real, actual, yet slightly brain washed volunteers of the Communist youth organization, Komsomol. Due to its strategic location in Siberia, the city had morphed into a hub for the secretive Soviet aircraft industry. To this day the radically cool design collectives — Mikoyan, Tupolev, Antonov, Yakovlev and Ilyushin did their metal bending out at Komsomolsk.
Out on the tarmac, the Japanese Bobcats buzzed around the black Shinkansen — loading, staking and balancing. They were done in fifteen minutes.
Next a team of Japanese mechanics and painters checked the Shinkansen’s exteriors for anything amiss. They went down their checklist efficiently. Did the markings in arial bold read ‘CRH400A’? Check. Was the train black? Check. Was it sleek? Check? Was there a small Chinese flag shaking hands with a guy in a sombrero? Check. Was the Chinese flag present on all coaches? Check. Was the Chinese flag painted on both sides of the train? Check. Was the Chinese flag painted on the undercarriage? Check. Was the Chinese red enhanced? Check. Did it glow in the dark? Check. Did it radiate in sunlight? Check. Did it radiate in moonlight? Check. Did it bring out werewolves? Cross. Was the cocaine treated with anti-inflammatory liquid? Check. Was the cocaine fireproofed? Check. Was the cocaine synthetic? Check. Did the cocaine crates have cartel markings? Check. Was the Shinkansen’s autopilot tested for location awareness? Check. Was there a generator/transformer combo inside the Russian AN-225? Check. Did the generator have ‘Made in China’ markings — also arial-bold? Check. Were these markings fire proof? Check. Were the characteristics of the diesel fuel in the generator identical to those produced by Chinese refineries? Check. Could a layman, as in Mexican sleuths, identify the Chinese skinned Shinkansen? — Answer needs to be NO. NO. Were the markings on the Russian AN-225 distinctly Ukrainian? Check. Was the autopilot on the AN-225 good to go? Check. Was the Russian jet’s fuel identical to the Harbin depot’s ATF? Cross. The Japanese let that one slide. They were detail oriented, not anal.
With all parties satisfied, the Russians opened the nose of the Mriya II. The Japanese, quickly backed their black train into the Antonov. Once the nose was lowered and latched, a Russian engineer went in and set the autopilot to start listening to Primakov.
Ten minutes later the Russian made Antonov-225 with Ukrainian markings thundered into the beautiful afternoon.
Chapter 19
Primakov gazed out of the Anadyr Airport’s control tower. Anadyr lay in the eastern extremity of Russia within smooching range of Juneau, Alaska. Due to its proximity to America, the airport often doubled as a bomber base. Today however, Primakov wasn’t interested in the bombers or Juneau or even America.
“Boss our radar just picked up the Ukrainian Antonov. It’s about 100 Kms south,” informed Korlov.
“Where is our Antonov… Mriya II?” asked Primakov.
“Sliding into the Ukrainian jet’s coattails… 30kms behind.”
“Did you capture the Ukrainian jet’s signature?”
“Yes sir. It’s remained the same since 1989.”
“Are our assets in place?”
“Yes sir. The Beriev A50, Early Warning Aircraft is in the loop. We also have our scheduled Moscow — LAX and Moscow — Vancouver Aeroflots in the mix. All wide bodies.”
“Interceptors?”
“Mig-29s on their way.”
“Good.”
As Korlov gave the final commands, he asked, “Boss, you think we can pull this off?”
Primakov was relaxed “Of course. This isn’t entirely new.”
“We have been done before?”
“Korean Air 007… Duh.”
Five minutes later the Beriev AWACS aircraft, the one with the saucer on its back, began jamming the Ukrainian AN-225.
Just as Andriy returned to the cockpit, some sort of an incendiary device blew up right in front of the aircraft.
“Jesus man. What the fuck was that?” yelled Andriy.
“Nyet. No idea dude.”
“Start scanning the frequencies. Also are we still with Seoul control tower?”
After fiddling and diddling, one of the crew replied, “I am getting nothing. Can’t reach Seoul.”
Suddenly a brute Russian voice cackled over the PA system.
“We gonna blast your ass to smithereens.”