"Fully, Colonel."
Their meal came and went in near silence; Smith had the salmon while Randi Russell ate lightly at a dinner salad. The only one who truly seemed to enjoy her food was Valentina Metrace, consuming her steak and baked potato with a dainty, unconcerned fierceness.
She was also the one who dove back into the mission over their after-dinner coffee.
"One of our Keyhole reconnaissance satellites got a clear-weather pass over the Misha crash site," she said, removing a set of photo prints from her shoulder bag. "It gives us a much better look at what we're dealing with than the ground photography from the science expedition."
Smith frowned at his copy of the overhead imaging. It could clearly be seen that the downed bomber was indeed an exact clone of a B-29. The slender, torpedolike fuselage and the lack of a stepped cockpit were unmistakable.
"Are you sure this is one of theirs?" Randi asked, mirroring Smith's thoughts.
The historian nodded. "Um-hum. Most of the insignia paint has been storm scoured away, but you can just make out the red star on the starboard wingtip. There's no doubt; it's a TU-4 Bull. Specifically it's the TU-4A strategic-strike variant, intended for the delivery of atomic or biochemical weapons. What's more, this one was an America bomber."
Smith glanced up. "An America bomber?"
"An aircraft specifically configured for attacks on targets in the continental United States. It's been stripped and lightened to maximize its range." Reaching across the table, Valentina traced a manicured fingernail down the spine of the aircraft. "You can see how all of the defensive gun turrets except for the tail stingers have been removed and the mounts fared over. Most of the armor will have been removed as well and auxiliary fuel tanks installed in the wings and aft bomb bay."
She looked up from the photo. "Even so modified, the TU-4 had very decided limitations as an intercontinental delivery system. Striking over the pole from the nearest Soviet bases in Siberia, they could just barely reach targets in the northern-tier states. And the missions would all have been one-way. There would have been no fuel left for a return flight."
"Missiles with men inside," Smith mused.
"Essentially, but they were what Stalin had at the time."
"And how did he get his hands on them in the first place?" Randi asked in puzzlement. "I gather these were our best bombers during the Second World War. We certainly didn't just give them to the Soviets."
"We did, but inadvertently," the historian replied. "Early on during the strategic bombing campaign against the Japanese home islands, three B-29s were forced to land in Vladivostok because of battle damage or engine failure. The crews and aircraft were interned by the Russians, who, at the time, were neutral in our war against Japan. Eventually, we got our aircrews back, but the bombers were never returned.
"Instead Stalin ordered Andrei Tupolev, one of Russia's greatest aircraft designers, to produce an exact copy of the B-29 for Soviet Long Range Aviation."
She smiled ruefully. "It was the most incredible reverse-engineering project in history. Aviation historians who've had the opportunity to closely examine examples of the Soviet Bull were always puzzled over a small round hole drilled into the leading edge of the left wing. They could never figure out what it was for. When the Russians were asked about it they stated that they didn't know what it was for, either. It had just been there on the B-29 airframe they had broken down for blueprinting.
"Come to find out, it had probably been a bullet hole made by the machine guns of a Japanese interceptor. But Stalin had specified that he wanted an exact copy of the Superfortress, and what Uncle Joe wanted, he got!"
Her finger continued to trace the outlines of the wrecked bomber's wings. "She obviously hit flat and skidded across the glacier on her belly. And given the way these propellers are bent, all of her engines were still running when she went in."
Smith scowled. "If she still had all of her engines, what forced her down?"
Valentina shook her head. "I, and the experts I've consulted, haven't a clue. There is no indication of a midair structural failure, battle damage, or a collision. All of the control surfaces are present and accounted for, and there's no sign of a fire before or after the crash. The best guess is that they were running out of fuel and the pilot set down on the island while he still had power for a controlled approach