Unconsciously, Ozerov altered course so he was flying right down the highway, heading west, and dipped the bomber to only eighty meters above the ground. The headlights of the trucks heading east were getting brighter and brighter- it seemed they were close enough to see their occupants . .

"You are at eighty meters altitude, Ozerov," the pilot warned nervously, placing his objection on the cockpit voice recorder. "And you are heading right for those trucks."

"No, I'm at least a hundred meters north of the highway," Ozerov said.~~ Well, maybe not that far, but what's a few dozen meters between friends?

"Let's give those sleepy truck drivers something to remember." Ozerov glanced around the cockpit. The pilot's eyes were riveted outside the cockpit again, but the copilot turned and nodded his approval at Ozerov. He was getting a real kick out of this!

Just like IR-3OO...

The thought came in a flash, unbidden.

Yes, this looks a lot like JR -300, a low-level training route that snaked through Oregon, northern Cal~fornia, and terminated near Wilder, Idaho. Part of the route was only five miles away from a major interstate highway going toward Boise, and although the highway was outside the four-mile corridor .,i JR training routes, some crews liked to sneak over, drop down to very low altitude, and put the fear of God into afew truckers. JR -300 was 'an often-used training route for bomber crews out of Ford Air Force...

"Ozerov? You are drifting toward the edge of the corridor."

Ozerov restored a little altitude and made a tight 30-degree bank turn toward the first target area. "Sorry. I was thinking ... about the next bomb run."

"Did you see that truck swerve off the road?" the copilot asked gleefully, forgetting about the cockpit voice recorder. "He'll have to switch drivers so he can change his pants!"

"Search radar, two o'clock," the engineer reported. "Nesvizh tracking station. No lock-on at this altitude. We should activate our beacon if he is to track us."

"Activate it at one-twenty TG," Ozerov said. "That is optimum tracking range. I want data on how successful they are at acquiring us."

"Emitter activated, eleven o'clock," the engineer called out. Fisikous engineers had placed a series of simulated enemy radar emitters at various places along their route of flight to test the crew's ability to react to a threat and destroy it before Tuman was tracked or attacked.

The pilot put his hands on his control wheel. "I've got the airp-"

"No. I'll keep it," Ozerov said firmly. He switched his weapon system from gravity bombs to the AS- 17 pylons. "Antiradar missile enabled. Make the attack call to Nesvizh and activate our beacon." The electronicwarfare system would automatically load target-bearing information and emitter frequency into the AS- 17 missile. Ozerov descended slightly, now down to fifty meters.

"We are at fifty meters, Ozerov!" the pilot protested. Ozerov's momentary lapse had him worried, although he seemed perfectly normal. "This 15 insanity! We are less than a wingspan above the ground!"