Armageddon

‘Too risky.’

‘Well, if you’re too chicken – ’

‘I’m not too chicken,’ snapped Mack. Then he smiled at her, and laughed at himself.

A little.

‘Don’t do that, McKenna,’ he told her. ‘Don’t try to out-macho me. Okay? Just be straight. No head games. You don’t need them.’

She shrugged, not particularly remorseful.

‘I’ll take it under advisement,’ said Mack. ‘That it?’

‘Breanna Stockard tells me she goes home Tuesday. What are the odds of me doing some time in the pilot’s seat before she leaves?’

‘Go for it.’

McKenna smiled, and got up.

‘There’s a tanker sailing to the Philippines with some jet fuel that’s supposed to be sold to a private investor there,’ said McKenna. ‘I may be able to find a phone number so you could put in a counter offer.’

‘That private investor wouldn’t be your ex-boss, Ivana Keptrova, would it?’

McKenna shrugged. She might not be much to look at, Mack thought, but she was one hell of an operator.

Just the sort of person he needed around here.

‘Do it,’ said Mack. ‘Buy it.’

‘How much?’

‘The whole thing. The ship if you have to. There’s this guy named Chia in the Finance Ministry – ’

‘That’s Gia,’ said McKenna. ‘Gee-uh.’

‘You know him?’

‘I’ve heard of him.’

‘Yeah. He has this line of credit for us, operating money we can spend, but getting him on the phone is next to impossible so you have to go over there and see him in his office, buttonhole him, you know what I mean? And then on our side there’s Braduski – ’

‘Bradushi. Like sushi. He’s the guy who cuts the checks for you. I had to talk to him to get paid. He has a mother who needs an operation in Manila.’

‘Oh?’

‘He was on the phone when I came into his office,’ said McKenna.

‘Well, we can help him, right?’ said Mack, catching on. ‘We make sure we fly her over there, he makes sure we have our fuel.’

She just smiled.

‘You just got yourself a raise and a promotion, McKenna,’ said Mack. ‘Air Commodore McKenna, second in command.’

She started to laugh.

‘Hey, if I’m a minister, second in command can be a commodore,’ he told her. ‘Play your cards right and you’ll be “Air Marshal” at the end of the week. Take that office with the windows down the hall. You want a secretary? Take one of mine. The pretty one.’

‘No way. She can’t type and she can’t figure out the phone, let alone the computer. I want somebody who can do some work.’

‘How do you know she can’t type?’

McKenna rolled her eyes. ‘If I want something good to look at, I’ll get one of those buff boys pulling security in front of the office.’

‘They’re eighteen years old,’ said Mack.

‘And?’

‘Kick butt, Commodore.’

‘I intend to,’ she said, marching out.

With McKenna gone and his biggest logistical problem on its way to being solved, Mack began tackling the paperwork, signing his name with abandon. He was about a quarter of the way through the pile when the phone rang. Mack picked up the line quickly, only to find himself speaking to a woman with a thick Russian accent.

‘Mr Minister Smith, good afternoon; I am so glad to have this opportunity to speak to you,’ said the woman.

‘I didn’t quite catch your name,’ said Mack.

‘Ivana Keptrova. You have heard of me? I work with friends in the president’s office. The Russian president,’ she added.

‘Just the person I wanted to speak to,’ said Mack.

‘And I you. It appears you have hired an employee of mine.’

‘Problem?’

‘Not a problem perhaps,’ said Ivana. ‘An opportunity maybe. But I would watch her.’

‘Oh, I intend on it. Why are you calling?’

‘You are in the market for aircraft, are you not?’

‘I’m looking for a squadron of F-15s,’ said Mack. ‘You have any?’

‘You’re making fun. But if you were more serious, we could speak of the Sukhoi, a very excellent plane,’ she said. ‘With some adjustments here and there, they are twice the plane the Eagle is.’

‘Right,’ said Mack.

‘I can arrange a demonstration.’