Blow Jobbs from
“Whoa. Are these guys serious? They have a SCAT in the air?” asked the stunned Undersecretary of State, Sarah McAllister.
“I guess… but then again, this is
“Ok getting back to this Tu-420 being an ICBM, it doesn’t make sense. I mean they already have the largest pile of ICBMs, which by our estimates is still very good. So… why?”
“For starters these things are airborne. Being a commercial jet they get to go anywhere freely. For example if they do Moscow to Vegas they get to fly over places like Area 51 and other critical areas. And once they get there, they can go kaboom.”
“But to even get to that stage… they need to be certified by the FAA and I guess the NTSB and the EU. During those inspections it should be pretty easy to see if this thing is for real… like if it can hide a warhead or if it’s an ICBM… also what about the seats, you can’t have a missile and seats and inflight entertainment and fool the FAA…”
Jim Borland shrugged, “Yeah, I guess it’s just baloney.”
“It’s time we did something… to counter the Russkies.”
“Cuba?”
“You sure this is not a prank?” asked Pulikesi for the 19th time.
Ilya lost it, “Fuck’s sake man, NO. It’s not a prank. The Russian FSB or whatever they are, abducted us… the entire Albatross team. During transit they tossed you out… thinking…”
“… thinking I am the janitor. Right, but it was so much fun. The Tajiks, those guys are off the rockers. I had the best pot-plov ever. The Fergana Valley is insane. And the Kyrgyz… they say you can ‘take’ any woman you want and marry her in Bishkek…”
“Dude, its barbarian and misogynist. Those nomads… and before you start again, NO. This isn’t a prank.”
Pulikesi held up his hands in mock surrender. “So I took a look at the specs and it’s got nothing to do with our Albatross.”
Ilya was miffed, “Well I am just the code monkey. Throw your questions at the business owners.”
Without preamble Primakov and a pale older dude walked into their mini office. The older dude was Mueller the mad scientist from Under Russia. He had taken a superfast elevator up from underground Krasnoyarsk.
“You boys have any questions about the spec?” asked Primakov.
Pulikesi cleared his throat and started, “Is this still not a prank?”
Ilya groaned. Primakov said with finality, “Nope.”
Pulikesi made a smug face that implied, they were all in on the prank. “Ok. So about the specs, it’s got nothing to do with the Albatross. I mean usually there are some fundamental modules but this… this thing, whatever this is…”
“We don’t have all day. Mueller,” Primakov looked at the older guy, “here is a super busy guy. He is a heavy hitter.”
Pulikesi dived in, “For starters this is a nationwide, in your case, Russia wide air traffic management system.”
Mueller nodded.
“Plus there are all these requirements about landing on frozen lakes… in fact Lake Baikal, hope I am pronouncing it right, seems to be the main ‘repository’.”