Chapter 74

We would have a two-hour or so stopover at the Domodedovo Airport (Moscow) to fill the tank of our plane, do the mechanical check, and obtain permits to continue on the way to Bratsk. Instead of dozing in a chair like Richie was doing, sitting drinking coffee like Hilda and Nika, or accompanying Christian to appear for his air traffic controller paperwork and flight plan, I wandered around the complex. All this at two in the morning. I couldn’t sit still and I kept twisting my fingers nervously. I felt so charged that I could have exploded at the first touch. Being in an airport didn’t help; security checks drive me crazy, and sometimes we ran into trained dogs that didn’t respond very well to our different smell.

Anyway, I hadn’t slept a wink for almost forty-eight hours, but that wasn’t the problem.

My head kept making plans, one more complex than the other.

I had to distract myself, eat something, drink something, do something else, but I couldn’t. At the free s