To Russia, with....

[Captain Geoff]

The guy on the phone introduced himself with a bad Russian accent.
Hello, my name ist Viktor. I am needink pilot to transport goods to trade in Russia. I af a leeeer yet waitink at Anchorage. I will pay good money.

I asked for $50/mile. He actually agreed. But he said "Use must fly as I say... how high, what di rection , and land where I tell you."

Sure, I said as long as it is nothing illegal.

"Nyet, nyet. Nothink illegal"

So I took the Baron up to PANC and over to a solitary hanger and parked it where he had instructed. The Lear was new, freshly painted. Smelled of fine Corinthian leather.

Viktor met me as I stood admiring his plane.

"Nice, eh? well, come in and let be goink".

Soon were were flying high at 18,000 streaking toward russia. a couple hours later we were landing at Providencia. Viktor was gone for almost two hours as I waiting, cooling my heels in the tiny restaurant unable to speak Russian.

Finally he came out, and soone crates were being unloaded and new ones loaded on the plane.

"you take off, yes, and fly 60 meters - no high, yes"

Ok, now what I wondered. Viktor instructed "you stay low, steer due east."
I pointed out that our fuel was at 50% and we needed to get some soon.
"No problemik. Use fly plane. Viktor take care of everythink"
He pulled out a satcom phone. beeping numbers and talking in Russian, I presume, to somebody.

"Is all set. Jus keep flyink. I pay good money. You get me where I need to go."
....

[Captain Geoff]

Flying recklessly low on autopilot with lights out, the jet skimmed over the calm seas. Occasional spray from the waves caused the engines to sputter, but the plane flew on. Once clear of sight of any land I was allowed to increase speed to 300 kts. I prayed the autopilot would work properly because at 300 knots our body parts would be strewn over the ocean for many sharks' dinners. We made one turn to 075 degrees.

Darkness had settled by the time we reached Alaska and Viktor told me to slow to 250 knots, not answering any radio calls. With dark land looming ahead I wondered how I would pull this stunt off. As we approached land, Viktor allowed me to climb to 500 feet, but remain radio silent, after pleading with him.

We had the gps on and Viktor pointed to an air strip on a small point of land... "der go toward dat landink field". In short order we flew over the strip. As I turned to final I could see the runway lights blink three times. Viktor had warned me there would be lights, which I needed obviously at night.

Viktor had no idea how long the runway was, so I lowered gear, flaps to max, and spoilers armed. We came to a stop only half way down the strip. Suddenly, a fuel truck lit up and we were waved by a ground crewman to a parking spot near the truck which came up and refueld the plane.

A cloth covered 4 ton truck pulled up on the other side of the plane and a small group of men dressed in black fatigues jumped out and started unloading the plane.

I kept my mouth shut. I was petrified - and since this wasn't my Baron, I didn't have my .45 pistol. Unarmed, I did what I was told - which was to sit still.

Suddenly Viktor's satcom phone chirped. Viktor answered in Russian. His voice became agitated and grew louder. Obviously, something was wrong. He left the cockpit for a few minutes and I pondered what was to come.

Suddenly, the port engine, sputtered and coughed, blowing black smoke into the inky sky. The unmistakable sound of a bearing giving way rendered the relatively quiet night.

"Qvuickly, Capitan. Come vid me. Qvuick, Qvuick".

I shut down the plane as fast as I could, and fairly leapt out of the seat following Viktor. Outside, pandemonium was breaking loose. Vehicles and men were dashing everywhere - It looked like an ant hill that had been trampled. I followed Viktor down the plane's stairs and out into the cold dark night....

[Captain Geoff]

There were shouts everywhere. Men scrambled into the truck which careened out of sight, squealing brakes as it fled.

Suddenly from where it stopped came more shouts and soon I could make out some kind of large prop plane being wheeled to the end of the runway.

"Go Go GO" screamed Viktor at me. I grabbed my flight case and ran as fast as I could, Viktor ahead of me by twenty feet.

I hadn't run much in recent years, and I was panting like a St. Bernard by the time I reached the twin engine plane. It was old and decrepit. Viktor motioned me to the cockpit, I passed a dozen men in the back. I noticed they were armed.
This was spinning out of control. Viktor urged me to take the pilot's seat and sat next to me, a pistol gripped in one hand. Whether it was meant to intimidate me or not, I got the point.

"Go... Go capitan. Get us out of here"

The port engine balked as I tried to start her. But she started soon enough. The starboard engine started easily. Down the runway we scurried, climbing very gently. I turned to Vicktor to get directions, but before I could say any thing, he turned to me and said "Down, now!"

How far down I asked. "Get in water, slow to 5 knots put on running lights"
I did as he asked and no sooner had I done so, than a swarm of aircraft converged on St. Michaels.

Looking like a boat we cruised slowly up the bay for hours. Viktor had a good chuckle and told me "See, Capitan, you deed it. Police vill search and find nothink".

I hoped he was right, but I wasn't betting on it. Beside some of the chatter was definitely military.

The rear of the plane became fouled with the stench of men losing their dinners as we bobbed along on the relatively smooth seas.

By 4 am the buzz at the field was out of sight and the chatter on the radio had died down. Viktor told me to get airborne and fly east. I asked him where were going to which he replied "Hokey, now you climb to 3000 feet. Go North North East. You see here on Gee PEEE ESS? Dis valley? Good. You follow".
I did as I was told and managed, as we approached, to discover it was KAL - Kaltag.

It was a scary descent - having little vision in the dark of night and only the light beacon of the tower to direct me in. Again we were in radio silence. As soon as we landed, Viktor told me to stay in the cockpit, but that we would take another plane similar to this one.

True to his word, an Otter followed us in - this time a wheeled variant. Boxes were shifted back and forth and I was soon sitting in the cockpit of the new arrival. A twotter. This time as Viktor climbed beside me - there were no passengers, and the boxes in the cargo hold were labeled hats, Product of Russia.

He made it clear this time - "Ve are goink to Fairbanks. You make plan and everything up and up"

I asked if he meant for me to file a flight plan with a decent cruise altitude and all? He answered that "I am legitimate bizness man. I only do correct tinks. You fly plane normal now."

Relief. I pondered entering the hijacking IFF code into the transponder, but I wasn't sure if Viktor knew much about it. I stood to lose a good deal of money if Viktor got caught. Undoubtedly, the authorities would confiscate his money and I'd see nothing.

The other twotter took off flying South, and soon we were taxiing. And I was wondering what to do next....

[Captain Geoff]

Shortly after take-off I noticed that the fuel gauges weren't working. Wonderful!

I ended up talking with Viktor on the long boring ride. I learned that he knew little about aviation but he had plenty of contacts that kept him informed of the goings on of the police and military. Not that he did anything illegal, of course.

I finally decided I'd better do something to get out of this situation which would only get worse. On final I dialed up 7500 nerving myself for what would follow. Sure enough, within seconds Viktor got a phone call and while talking I camly redialed to squawk my assignment. Viktor turned to me and said "Dat vas a verry stupid thing to do Capitan".

I innocently asked what - and he said "That box there - you dialed up hijackink".
"Oh, I said, that was just an accident as I dialed up my new assignment."

Seconds later we were on the ground and cleared to parking which was way out in some desolate area. We never reached it. Just after I crossed the runway on the way over, the engines died. Then the lights went out. The engines would not start, so I called in that we needed a tow. I specified that I wanted one of the big jobs to the ground controller. And a tow bar. I hoped that combined with my previous 7500 would cause someone to wise up. I was told to wait outside the aircraft for the truck. Because of the cold, I told Viktor to remain in the cabin. He didn't, opting to keep me under guard.

Soon the truck came up, the driver wondering what he was needed for. I asked him to help get me out of the situation - he didn't get my cues. He hitched up the plane and towed it. Viktor rode with him in the warm truck, while I resumed the plane controls. Fortunately the batteries could power the radio and I called a mayday reporting what had been happening.

Viktor must have heard what I said because he brought out his weapon pointing it at the driver. He made it obvious he'd shoot him if I said anything more. Desperate, now Viktor urgen the truck faster, and we were soon at the assigned parking spot. Even though it was 0900 local time, it was still very dark with thick clouds overhead. Viktor got out of the truck and headed over to where a parked and running car was waiting. Not paying attention and only in a hurry, he entered the vehicle, which immediately sped out of sight, lights flashing.

One other police vehicle dashed after it. An unmarked car pulled up to the Twotter and several Agents approached me. They got their man. Now they wanted to talk with me.....

[Bonez]

A quick hint

If you travel to Antarctica you can conveniently "Die" and leave all your Fed hassles behind

[The Boss]

A quick hint

If you travel to Antarctica you can conveniently "Die" and leave all your Fed hassles behind

Yeah, but unfortunately it takes regular infusions of green to keep bureaucratic minds tuned to a gullible frequency. :rolleyes:

Just make certain that your value to the company doesn't fall below the amount in bribe money it takes to keep you in the air and out of the clink, or you may find resurrection isn't just for messiahs anymore! :bricks:

[Captain Geoff]

They held me seven hours, grilling about Viktor. They knew who I was from my Navy record, and I'm sure they must have contacted the Boss. They even asked me about Chadza. I told them he died somewhere around the South Pole in an accident. They didn't believe me.

After hours of going around in circles and saying the same thing over and over, it became obvious they couldn't charge me with anything other than having had a bad charter.

One Agent, John Wiznewski, seemed friendler than the others. At the end of the session as they were letting me go, I asked if I could keep the plane. No - it would be put up for sale. But they did need to get some agents down to Anchorage and I could fly them there.

I sighed with relief. I knew the Boss' bribe budget was busting with all the other bailouts. At least I'd get paid by the FBI. They'd found $3,000 on Viktor along with $7 million dollars worth of rare, dried russian mongoose male sexual effluent - if you get my drift. All contained in a little bag that must have weighed less than a pound. Good business. Just don't want to know how they got it. Unfortunately while it may have been legal in Russia, it wasn't here. So, I suppose technically Viktor hadn't lied to me. Next time I'll have to be more specific about being legal in this country.

The plane had been gassed up and it was now 4 PM. I wanna get out a here.....

[Captain Geoff]

I flew the feds to Fairbanks. It was boring - and the suits were so stiff you could've used them for swizzle sticks. Still and all - at least they paid me.

The Baron was really difficult to start for the trip home. It knew it had been abandoned for the Twotter. Time and again I tried to start her - and that's when I finally noticed that the gas tank was completely empty. Some moron at Anchorage had siphoned off my gas.

The Landing at Valdez was routine - and it was enheartening to see the new services up and running that had been promised for years. Battery trucks, snow plows, follow-me vehicles - all scurrying around making it friendlier for us hard working pilots.

After I parked the plane I went over to the board. I looked for, but couldn't find any missions that Mr. Boss had said he needed me for. Well, if I don't hear from him soon - guess I'll take the I Dig A Dog race supply run. Peggy must've already crashed for the night. I mumbled an hello to Rick - but seems he was fast asleep on couch #2. I dropped dead on #1. It had been a wickd hard day - the kind you want to forget.

Use the Force Geoff - Remember to ask if it's legal in the US of A