“Probably,” Castillo said. “I’d have to look at the charts, and I don’t have any charts.”
“János, call down to the hangar and have them bring the necessary aerial charts,” Pevsner ordered. “And when you’ve finished that, call the house and have our luggage prepared.”
“If, after I look at the charts and decide I can fly around the peaks, I’d still have to make two flights,” Castillo said. “We can’t get everybody in the Commander at once. Have you considered that?”
“You’d have to make two flights in the Lear, too. Taking the little airplane still makes more sense,” Svetlana said.
“Concur,” Tom Barlow said.
“There they go again!” Delchamps said. “What would you do without them whispering sage advice in your ear, Don Carlos?”
Tom Barlow chuckled. Svetlana gave him the finger.
[TWO]
El Tepual International Airport
Puerto Montt, Chile
0830 6 February 2007
The first flight in the Aero Commander from Estancia San Joaquín through the Andes mountains had carried Alek Pevsner—who had said he wanted to make sure things went smoothly in Puerto Montt—plus János, Tom Barlow, Sweaty, and of course Max.
The Casey avionics worked perfectly, and everyone but the pilot seemed to enjoy the flight. In the early light of day, the snow-capped Andes were incredibly beautiful. The pilot spent much time during the flight—whenever the altimeter showed that he was at or just over thirteen thousand feet—remembering that the U.S. Army had taught him that at any altitude over twelve thousand feet, the pilot’s brain is denied the oxygen it needs.
Despite its grandiose title, El Tepual International was just about completely deserted when they landed. There was no Peruaire cargo jet in sight; just three Chevrolet Suburbans whose drivers looked more Slavic than one would expect of Chileans.
Svetlana immediately exercised her female right to change her mind and announced she would return to Estancia San Joaquín with Castillo to pick up Alex Darby and Edgar Delchamps.
That could be because my lover can’t bear to be even briefly separated from me.
But on the other hand it could be because former Podpolkovnik Svetlana Alekseeva of the SVR thinks she had better keep an eye on the crazy American to make sure that he doesn’t do something stupid.
The second flight went smoothly, and this time the pilot elected to fly more closely to the terrain, rather than trying to attain as much altitude as he could.
And when he turned on final approach, he saw that there was another aircraft on the tarmac: a Peruaire Boeing 777-200LR.
Jesus, that’s one great big beautiful sonofabitch!
When he taxied up close to it, feeling like one of the little people Gulliver had encountered in his travels, he saw that a swarm of workers had just about finished loading it with refrigerated containers.
What was the Triple-Seven freighter’s revenue payload?
I think Alek said just over a hundred tons—one hundred twelve tons, was what he said.
Jesus, that’s a lot of seafood and beef!
Ten minutes after he landed at El Tepual, he was strapped into one of the ten seats in the passenger compartment just behind the 777’s cockpit.
The plane began to taxi and when it turned onto the main runway, the pilot simply advanced the throttles and it began the takeoff roll.
One of Marlon Brando’s consiglieri caught his hand with one of hers and crossed herself with the other.
[THREE]
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Jorge Newbery International Airport