"Prepare for brake release."
The screens on the wall above reported fuel consumption edging toward three hundred pounds of JP-7 a second.
"Yuri," the radio crackled, "don't—"
"Pavel's got his men out of the hangar, Sergei. I can see on my screen. I'm going cold mike now. No distractions. Just wish me luck."
There was a click as he switched off the communications in his helmet. He missed a new radio voice by only a second. It was speaking in English.
"Dr. Vance, what is going on? He's just cut his radio link with Flight Control. He's deranged. I order you to halt the flight sequence. He could destroy both planes by going to afterburners in the hangar. I demand this be stopped."
Vance glanced up at the TV monitors. An auxiliary screen showed Tanzan Mino standing at the main Flight Control console, surrounded by more kobun, who had muscled aside the Russian technicians. He also noticed that a lot of Soviet brass were there too.
"Looks like you've got a problem."
"I'm warning you I will shut you down. I can activate the automatic AI override three minutes after takeoff. The plane will return and land automatically."
"Three minutes is a long time." Vance wondered if it was true, or a bluff. "We'll take our chances."