More images appeared before the audience’s eyes, depicting a web of intricate, layered defenses around Petrov’s intended targets. These included sophisticated radars, surface-to-air missile regiments, and roving fighter patrols. “No easy task,” the Russian Navy’s senior admiral commented dryly. “One bomber against dozens of SAM launchers and some of our best interceptors? No matter how impressive the technology built into this new prototype of yours truly is, Colonel, you’ll still be massively outnumbered. And after all, quantity has a quality all its own,” he finished, quoting Stalin.

Petrov nodded. “That’s precisely the point, Admiral.” He turned to Zhdanov. “Win or lose, this exercise will yield a huge amount of invaluable real-world data on the PAK-DA—including its long-range endurance, air-to-air refueling capability, low-level penetrating stealth characteristics, and electronic warfare systems. We would be compressing months of more conventional testing and validation into a single demonstration flight.”

“Allowing us to field a force of combat-ready stealth bombers that much more quickly?” the president asked.

“Yes, sir,” Petrov said firmly.

Zhdanov was visibly impressed. Besides speeding up the progress of the PAK-DA program, the colonel’s proposal offered the possibility of scoring a propaganda coup of the first magnitude—one that should rouse patriotic spirits here at home and unnerve potential enemies abroad. Best of all, it wouldn’t matter whether or not the bomber prototype actually succeeded in scoring simulated hits on its targets this time. If Petrov and his copilot actually managed to penetrate the powerful defenses arrayed against them, it would show the world that Russia now had its own highly capable strategic stealth bomber. And even a failure could be spun to “prove” that America’s own vaunted B-2 Spirit and B-21 Raider stealth aircraft were no match for Russia’s combination of powerful radars, deadly surface-to-air missiles, and fast, agile interceptors.

The president glanced at those around him. “Comments, gentlemen?”

“The colonel’s proposed Ghost Strike is certainly audacious, Mr. President. Who knows? It might even work out the way he hopes,” a stocky, bull-necked man seated three chairs down from the president said bluntly. Major General Vasily Mavrichev was the chief of Russia’s Long-Range Aviation Force. He had a vested interest in the PAK-DA program. Once the first stealth bombers reached operational status, they would fall under his direct command. But he was also known as an advocate for tried-and-true tactics and procedures, with an abiding distrust of anything new, let alone anything that might be considered revolutionary. “However, I don’t like the idea of the PAK-DA carrying armed cruise missiles on what’s really just a glorified training exercise. In my judgment, that’s an unnecessary risk factor.” He shrugged his broad shoulders. “I recommend that we load practice missiles with dummy warheads instead.”

Petrov hid his irritation. Mavrichev’s opposition to that part of his Ghost Strike plan was no surprise. But he could not afford to concede the point. Without real Kh-102s aboard the bomber when it took off, this whole operation was pointless. “Since we’ve already proved that the PAK-DA prototype is perfectly airworthy, the risk is minimal,” he argued, aiming his words at Zhdanov rather than the general. “Besides, we don’t have enough practice missiles in our arsenal to make up a complete weapons load. We’d be taking off light, which would not come close to replicating a real-life combat sortie.”