Brevik:
| You didn't need to drag me here in the middle of the
night for a joke. |
---|---|
Major Cook:
| No, wait a minute, I'm not joking. Now listen to me.
There's a current of warm air that rises from the river on this side of the castle. It's called a thermal. |
Brevik: | Ya, I know what it's called. |
Major Cook:
| Then you know it provides enough lift to take a glider
10,000 feet up in the air and maybe more. |
Brevik: | A glider? |
Major Cook: | A two man glider, to fly us into Switzerland. |
Brevik: | You're crazy! Why, that would need a wingspan... |
Major Cook:
| Of 32 feet, and a fuselage 20 feet long, a lift-off velocity
of 18 miles an hour, an airfoil surface of 120 square feet, I've got the figures right up here in my head. I got `em from Fitz. |
Brevik:
| You are crazy! You're out of your mind! But...we could
never... |
Major Cook: | We can and we will...but we're gonna need help. |