The Charm School

wanted.”
    “I don’t think that changes how I feel about him right now.” She thought a moment. “I can’t picture all those people dead… . All those men, their wives, the children… Jane, the kidnapped American women… .” She shook her head. “I can’t believe he made up that lie about sleeping gas and prisoner exchanges.” She looked at Hollis. “You knew it was a lie, didn’t you?”
    “It seemed a bit too good and didn’t fit the facts.”
    She nodded but said nothing.
    Hollis said to Mills, “I consider that my life and Lisa’s life are still in danger.”
    Mills seemed uncomfortable. “I’m not the source of the danger. We’ll work something out.”
    “Like what? Life tenure in the new Charm School?”
    “I think that all Seth ever wanted from you two is a promise never to reveal a word of this to anyone.”
    Hollis noted that Mills’ voice had that tone in it that one uses in speaking of recently deceased heroes.
The legend begins.
Hollis looked at Lisa and saw she had her hands over her face and tears were streaming down her cheeks.
    Hollis turned back toward the front and concentrated on the problem at hand. His eyes swept the gauges again, and he noted an increase in oil temperature and a drop in pressure. The fuel needle was in the red, but the warning light was not on yet. He said to O’Shea, “You’ve done an admirable job of burning fuel. Reduce airspeed.”
    “I can’t.”
    “Why not?”
    “Well, according to my instructions, which I opened only after I was airborne, our rendezvous with the ship must occur before dawn. The ship won’t identify itself after daylight. There may be Soviet naval and merchant vessels in the area.”
    “I see.”
    O’Shea added, “First light in that part of the world isn’t until zero seven twenty-two hours. We’re cutting it close even at this speed.”
    Hollis nodded. He’d thought the problem was only fuel. Now it was the sunrise. Hollis looked at the airspeed indicator, then the more accurate ground-speed indicator. Airspeed was still 150 kph, but actual ground speed was only 130. They were obviously bucking into a strong headwind.
    Hollis looked out the windshield. Thin, scudding clouds flew at them, and occasionally he could feel the turbulence of the gusting north wind.
    The sky above was layered with clouds, and there was no starlight. Below, Hollis could not see a single light. He’d flown this route to Leningrad with Aeroflot, and he knew this part of Russia. Much of it was an underpopulated expanse of forest, small lakes, and marshes. Last autumn he’d taken the Red Arrow Express from Leningrad back to Moscow, and the train had passed through the same country he’d seen from the air. The villages had been dilapidated, and the farms badly kept. It was a cold, unforgiving stretch of country below, not the sort of place where one would want to forceland a helicopter.
    Hollis said to O’Shea, “Did you try a higher altitude?”
    “No, sir. I didn’t want to burn any more fuel on a climb.”
    Hollis took the controls on his side. “Take a break. Stretch.”
    O’Shea released the controls and the stretched his arms and legs. “Do you want to fly it from the right-hand seat?”
    “No, but I don’t want to try a crossover either. I’ll let you sit in the pilot’s seat as long as you don’t take it seriously.”
    “Yes, sir.”
    Hollis knew that helicopter flying, which needed continuous concentration and constant hands-on, could fatigue a solo pilot within an hour. O’Shea had been behind the stick for close to two hours, alone with the falling fuel needle.
    Hollis said, “Let’s go upstairs.” He increased the collective pitch for a slow rate of climb, increased the throttle, and held the craft level with the cyclic stick. The increased torque caused the nose to yaw to the left, and O’Shea reminded him, “It’s backwards.”
    “Thank you, Captain. Does that mean our fuel level is rising?”
    “No, sir.”
    Hollis pressed down on the right rudder pedal and put the helicopter in longitudinal trim. “It seems to handle all right. But I wouldn’t want to have to try something tricky like landing on a pitching ship in the dark with a strong wind.”
    O’Shea glanced at Hollis to see if he was making a joke. O’Shea said, “Well, I’ve logged enough time on this to give it a try. But if you want to take it in, you’re the skipper.”
    “We’ll arm-wrestle for the honor as we make our final