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missile-track through the dusted flour ‘ - it’s two hundred yards away, one hundred, fifty, and then what happens? ‘ - his finger sharply veered away -‘it misses. Just like that.’
    ‘It misses? You mean, every time? You’re trying to tell me the US Air Force is equipped with missiles that miss?’ ‘It’s a one’-in-a-million flaw,’ said Willy, with satisfaction. ‘If it hadn’t have been for the tests I was running on X-band radar, I doubt if anyone would have discovered it.’ ‘But surely they’ve tested these missiles?’ Daniel told him. They worked during their tests, didn’t they?’
    ‘Oh, sure,’ Willy agreed. ‘And they still work now, when they’re tested on the Air Force ranges. But what you have to realize is that we never test them against real Soviet airplanes. We usually use a PQM-102 RPV, which is a pilolless Delta Dagger. Now, each airplane has a different and distinct radar signature, do you understand me? and although our radar is obviously happy to lock-on to the signature of a Delta Dagger, or any other US target plane, it seems to have a widespread aversion to Soviet signatures.’ Daniel forked out Lannie’s bacon. This is really true?
    This isn’t just some one-off error in one particular piece of equipment?’
    Willy shook his head. ‘I’ve run diagnostic programmes through the armoury computer on three different radar systems. Each system failed in exactly the same way, at exactly the same moment. But, of course, if a pilot didn’t realize that his radar was snafu, he’d simply believe that he’d missed. Mind you, if he was in a real damn combat situation, he wouldn’t have too long to worry about it, since I doubt if the Soviet air-to-air missiles have a similar aversion to hitting our planes.’
    ‘But it’s insane,’ said Daniel. ‘How can a whole Air Force be equipped with missiles that don’t work?’
    ‘What can I say?’ asked Willy, blowing flour off the table. ‘It’s the greatest damn scandal in the history of the Air Force. And I mean the greatest. Heads will start rolling, believe me.’ ‘Jesus,’ said Daniel.
    ‘I have more tests to make,’ Willy added. ‘I want to take a look at the IR seeker nose on the Falcon; and maybe check the laser-beam proximity fuse, too.’ ‘Don’t befuddle me with technicality,’ said Daniel. ‘I’m simply telling you that I want to check the guidance and detonation systems on other missiles, too. Every missile has its own fancy new system, and some of them are so far out you’d hardly believe them. Some of the latest ground-to-air missiles have phased-arrayed radar that’s capable of surveillance, acquisition, track/engage and guidance. They can do everything except serve up lunch.’ ‘None of which is any use if they don’t hit the airplanes they’re supposed to hit,’ said Daniel. ‘Precisely,’ Willy agreed. Susie sneezed, because of the flour. ‘Leave it,’ Daniel told Willy. ‘Cara will clean it up.’ ‘Oh, Cara, that’s her name? Nice name, considering she comes from South Dakota. Usually, they’re called Way-nette or Laurene or Trixie.’
    ‘Or Candii?’ said Daniel, purposely trying to embarrass him.
     
    Willy made a face. ‘Sure. Or Candii.’
    There was a shuddering knock at the front door of the diner. That must be Lannie Watts, wanting his breakfast. Daniel said to Susie. ‘Go let Lannie in, will you? Tell him I’m just cracking his eggs.’
    When Susie had gone through the plastic-strip curtain to the diner, Daniel said seriously to Willy, ‘This thing you’ve found out. It’s pretty serious, isn’t it? I mean, it could be trouble.’
    ‘Just like I said, Daniel, heads will roll.’
    ‘You’re sure it won’t be your head? You know what Kawalek’s like, all jokes apart. And Kawalek’s only a colonel. There have to be plenty of generals and top brass at the Pentagon who won’t particularly feel like being embarrassed by a know-it-all major from Williams