"You sure this plane will work?" asked the President, averting his face from the spray of leaves caught up in the shrieking jet stream of the waiting plane. "It's too simple not to," said Blake, clutching the suitcase--on whose side a large red "Top Secret" had been stenciled--to his chest, and shouting over the scream of the plane. "The radar-resistant device is nothing more than a radio-receiver that blankets the structure, making the entire plane a receiver. If it receives the radar impulses, they can't bounce back and make a blip on the enemy radar screens." The President sighed. "You make it sound almost too easy. Very well." He shook the man's hand. "Good luck." "Thank you, sir," said Blake, patting the suitcase. "I'll take good care of Teddy." The President nodded and moved away. Blake boarded the jet, and, minutes later, the President was watching a last fading streamer of the twin exhausts dwindling upon the eastern horizon. "I shan't sleep till he's back," said the Secretary. "Nor I," said the President. "I have the weirdest damned apprehension...." "About what, sir?" asked the Secretary, as they made their way from the field. "About the--" the President looked around, then lowered his voice to a whisper--"the Russians. There's something in their makeup we may have overlooked." "Impossible, sir," said the Secretary of Defense. "Blake is our top psychologist." "I hope you're right. If this fails, I'd hate for it to be traced to us." "It can't be. The jacket was made in Japan, the boots in Mexico, the parachute in--" "I know, I know," said the President. "But if they _should_ trace it to us, we'll be a laughing-stock." "They won't," the Secretary assured him. <tb> Two days later, Blake was back, his manner jovial when he met in secret session once more with the two executives. "Couldn't have gone more perfectly, gentlemen," he said, rubbing his hands together and bouncing on his toes. "We passed directly over Moscow, at a height of ten miles, on the stroke of midnight. The night was overcast and starless. Teddy was dropped through the bomb bay. I saw his parachute open myself. He's down there now, and we're sure to see signs any day now of the little cracks in the Iron Curtain." "You had no trouble with the enemy?" the President asked, though the answer--since Blake was back alive--was obvious. "None," Blake said. "The radar shield performed exactly as specified, sir. Not a blink of a searchlight nor a single ground-to-air rocket did we see. Perhaps, on hearing us pass by, they sent up an investigating plane or two, but we were long gone by then. That's the advantage of moving faster than the sound you make," he added pontifically. "I still feel we've overlooked something," said the President. "In the back of my mind, a small voice keeps trying to remind me of something about the Russians, something that should have made me veto this whole scheme at the start."