Games Traitors Play

76

‘I was performing a manoeuvre we call the “Pugachev cobra”. The nose comes up like a snake and the plane almost stops in mid-air.’ Sergei put down his glass and lifted his hand from flat up to ninety degrees, as if a venomous head was rearing. ‘It is a Russian speciality, useful in combat, too. Hard to see coming. Pull a cobra, your attacker overshoots and suddenly you’re on their six o’clock. My instructor at aviation school, Viktor Georgievich Pugachev, was the first. For many years, we were doing this in SU-27s, much to the embarrassment of our American friends. They can do it now in an F-22, but in other Western jets this manoeuvre is not possible.’

‘And it went wrong?’ Dhar asked, sipping at a mug of warm water. They were sitting in the hangar at Kotlas, the regular guards standing outside. The Bird had burst into song, talking more than he had ever done before. Vodka had loosened his tongue; or perhaps he had finally accepted that he was a man condemned to die. Apart from the alcohol, Dhar was enjoying his company. He had grown fond of Sergei in the past few weeks, liked the fact that his respect had to be earned. Their conversation tonight seemed to be a reward.

‘Terribly wrong. We Russians like to push it to the limit at air shows. Give the people some value for their money for a change. I was attempting the hardest, a flat cobra — it is easier in a climb — and I was entering too fast. I passed out for a few seconds — almost 15G. In order to perform the manoeuvre, first we must disable the angle-of-attack limiter, to allow the nose to pitch upwards. But this also disables the G-Force limiter. When I regained consciousness, it was too late. I tried to turn away from the crowd, but — ’

Sergei stopped and blinked.

‘And twenty-three people died?’

‘Including seven children. I was sentenced to fifteen years, so was my co-pilot and two of the air show’s officials.’ Sergei paused. ‘I don’t understand your beliefs, and I don’t expect you to understand mine. All I know is that you are at war, fighting your global jihad, and Russia has many enemies in the world. Sometimes our battles are the same. It’s not worth my life to know any more. My orders are to train you for an operation that might help to restore the world order. But please, if you can spare the lives of twenty-three civilians, then do it. For me, for the Bird.’