Under the Ice

“Yet what exactly took place in those frigid Arctic skies to doom this mission? Was it merely a mechanical fault that sent the Flying Kremlin crashing into the ice pack, or was an outside force responsible? If you’ll just bear with me, comrades, I think that I can provide you with irrefutable proof that will support the latter of these two conjectures.”

Halting at this point, Mikhail caught Ivan Zarusk’s steel gray gaze. Without betraying himself, the Defense Minister gave his host the barest of supportive nods. As he briefly scanned the faces of his other guests, Mikhail found Dmitri Tichvin’s expression filled with thoughtful contemplation, while a look of bored indifference etched the pockmarked face of Yuri Kasimov. Focusing his energies on this individual, Mikhail passionately continued.

“The Ilyushin 11–76 airliner known as the Flying Kremlin was one of the most checked-over planes ever to fly. Sporting a spotless service record, the Premier’s personal jet had only recently had its four Soloviev two-shaft turbofan engines overhauled. To insure that this overhaul was a successful one, the plane was recently flown on a cross-country jaunt from Petropavlovsk to Leningrad, to insure the integrity of all of its sophisticated components. I myself saw the results of this test flight, and can assure you that the Flying Kremlin was as mechanically safe as a human-made machine can be.

“Besides having a variety of redundant systems, the aircraft was piloted by Stanislaus Kossovo, a decorated veteran, with more flying hours than any other active pilot in the Air Force. Together with a handpicked crew of seven, Kossovo was well equipped to handle any emergency that might befall.

“Yet in the unlikely event that a mechanical failure did occur, then one puzzling question still remains.

Why was this seasoned crew unable to broadcast even a single distress call? The Flying Kremlin carried no less than five separate communication systems. Several of these circuits were BMP hardened, that would allow them to transmit even in the event of a nuclear war.

“Perhaps this unlikely emergency that you just mentioned occurred so quickly that Kossovo didn’t even have time to transmit a Mayday,” offered Dmitri Tichvin.

Mikhail ingested this thought and answered after the briefest of pauses.

“Since such a possibility crossed my mind also, I discussed it with our esteemed Defense Minister earlier. General Zarusk, why don’t you share with our comrades here your expert opinion on this matter?”

Without bothering to stand, Ivan wasted no time responding.

“There are several reasons why the scenario you mentioned isn’t plausible. Comrade Tichvin.

The first centers around the Bear-E reconnaissance plane that we had circling the North Pole as the 11–76 penetrated Canadian air space. This AWACS platform was fitted with the latest in rapid digital processing, over the horizon radars, and was assigned with a single mission in mind — to monitor each and every kilometer of the Flying Kremlin’s, flight. As you may very well know, such AWACS platforms are extremely sophisticated and can track dozens of separate airborne targets at a single time.

With this fact in mind, I immediately contacted the commander of this flight the second we learned the Premier’s plane had dropped from their screen. I have since seen the crews documentation. These tapes show that a full twenty minutes passed between the moment the 11–76 initially dropped from its normal cruising altitude of 13,000 meters, until its disappearance altogether.”

“I don’t follow you. General,” interrupted Yuri Kasimov.

“My heavens, comrade, don’t you realize what such a thing means!” shouted Ivan Zarusk excitedly.

“If a mechanical malfunction had indeed occurred, Captain Kossovo would have had an entire twenty minutes to inform us of it!”

“You mentioned a change of altitude. General. Is such a thing unusual?” continued Kasimov.

A bit flustered by the scrawny bureaucrat’s continued probing, the general spoke more sharply.

“Why of course it is, comrade! Though every flight deviates in altitude a few hundred meters or so, the Flying Kremlin fell over 6,500 meters with no explanation whatsoever.”

“Maybe it was the weather,” offered Dmitri Tichvin.

Conscious of the Defense Minister’s impatience when it came to dealing with civilians, Mikhail Kharkov interceded.

“That’s out of the question, comrade.

The skies were perfectly clear in the area, with not even a single storm front. These meteorological observations were subsequently corroborated by photos relayed to us by the cosmonauts aboard the Salyut space station. Red Flag. Incidentally, the Flying Kremlin was sent skyward from Irkutsk several minutes earlier than planned, so that the space station would be in a position to monitor the 11–76 as it crossed the North Pole.”

Though Dmitri Tichvin seemed to be impressed with this surprise revelation, Yuri Kasimov impatiently stirred.

“I still don’t get it,” complained the pockmarked bureaucrat.