"Major Androv, this unacceptable behavior must not be repeated." Ikeda's eyes were filled with anger and his tone carried an unmistakable edge of threat. "Do you understand? Never. This project has far too much at stake to jeopardize it by going outside stipulated procedure."
"I understand." Yuri bowed his head.
"Do you?" The project director's voice rose, uncharacteristically. "If any such reckless action is ever repeated, I warn you now that there will be consequences. Very grave consequences."
Bet your ass there'll be consequences, Yuri thought. Because the next time I do it, I'm going to smoke out Mino Industries' whole game plan. There'll be consequences like you never dreamed of, you smooth-talking, scheming son of a bitch.
"What does it tell you?" Yuri shaded his eyes from the glare of the hangar fluorescents and pointed, directing his father's gaze toward the dark gray of the fuselage above them. The old man squinted and looked up. "Can you see it? The underside is darker, and it's honeycombed. The air scoops, even the engine housings, everywhere. Very faint, but it's there."
Andrei Androv stared a moment before he spoke. "Interesting. Odd I hadn't noticed it before. But I assume that's just part of the skin undersupport."
"Wrong. Just beneath the titanium-composite exterior is some kind of carbon-ferrite material, deliberately extruded into honeycombing. But you almost can't see it in direct light." He placed his hand on his father's shoulder. "Now come on and let me show you something else."
He led the elder Androv toward the truck-mounted stair, gleaming steel, that led up into the open hatch just aft of the wide wings.