Lieutenant Belenko's Gift

Construction workers at the Hakodate civilian airport on Hokkaido, the northernmost of the main Japanese islands, could hardly believe their eyes when a strange and spectacular-looking aircraft, a red star emblazoned on each of its twin tails, suddenly swept in for an unexpected landing. As the plane touched down, a tire blew out, and the plane rolled beyond the end of the mile-long runway before braking to a stop. When the workers rushed closer for a better view, a young man in a gray flying suit and white helmet climbed out, brandishing an automatic pistol. "Get back!" he cried in Russian. "I am a lieutenant in the Soviet air force, and I want to go to the United States." Pointing to his plane, he said, "This is top secret. Please cover it up and take care of it." Then he fired one warning shot to discourage a construction worker from taking pictures.

In that manner, 1st Lieut. Viktor Ivanovich Belenko, 29, last week pulled off one of the most daring escapes of the cold war. In the view of U.S. Air Force and intelligence experts, it was also one of the most significant; Belenko was flying the MIG-25, which has never been examined by Western specialists. Called "Foxbat" in the NATO code, it is the world's fastest weapons-carrying warplane, having attained a record speed* of 1,852.6 m.p.h. and a test altitude of 118,000 ft.--outrunning and outclimbing even the newest U.S. fighter planes. Thus a study of the MIG-25's complex radar, engines and missile system could provide U.S. experts with new insights about the current state of Soviet aeronautical and electronic technology. Delighted by Belenko's gift, the White House immediately announced its willingness to grant political asylum to the Soviet lieutenant. At week's end he arrived in Los Angeles aboard a commercial airliner from Tokyo en route to a secret destination, where he will be questioned by U.S. military and intelligence officers. Heading in the opposite direction, a team of Air Force experts left for Japan to analyze and assess the MIG-25.

Belenko's flight began at the Sokolovka airbase, 100 miles east-northeast of Vladivostok, where the Soviets are believed to maintain squadrons of their best interceptor aircraft. According to his Japanese interrogators, Belenko had been planning his defection for two years. "There is no freedom in the Soviet Union," he told his interrogators. "Nothing has changed since the czars. It's a suffocating country. You can tell the truth only when drinking vodka with your friends." Furthermore, his marriage was breaking up; he was alienated from his wife and small child, and apparently felt that his defection would not bring down official wrath on his family.

Shortly after he took off last week on a Monday morning training mission, Belenko made his break. Somewhere near the Primorsky Kray coast, he suddenly put his MIG in a sharp dive, leveling out 150 ft. over the waves of the Sea of Japan, followed shortly afterward by Russian pilots in hot pursuit. After flying this low for a short distance to elude Soviet radar, he climbed back to 20,000 ft. for the dash to Japan; a jet gulps too much fuel at low altitudes.

As Belenko approached Japanese airspace near Sapporo, the site of the 1972 Winter Olympics, his pursuers suddenly turned back, probably recalled to their base by radio command. Japanese Air Self-Defense Forces, spotting the intruder on radar, warned him (in Russian) by radio that he would soon violate Japanese airspace. When Belenko neither responded nor changed course, the Japanese scrambled two Phantoms to intercept the plane. But find him they could not. Belenko managed for 24 minutes to elude the Phantoms, probably by the simple expedient of flying again at low altitudes, below the sweep of the Air Self-Defense Forces' radar.

Then, suddenly appearing over Hakodate, Belenko circled twice and touched down, two drag chutes popping from the MIG's tail for braking. Because of his tire blowout, Belenko was apparently unable to use the wheel brakes, and the MIG overran the runway, knocking down two short navigational antennas before coming to a stop.

Most defectors, having taken the emotion-wrenching step of leaving their homeland, are confused or, as one intelligence expert puts it, "kooky," when they arrive at their destinations. Not Belenko. After getting out of the plane and firing the. warning shot, he willingly surrendered to Japanese police, who placed him in custody for having violated Japanese immigration procedures and for possession of illegal weapons. Those charges were only legal ruses to keep Lieut. Belenko safely in Japanese hands.

Soviet embassy officials in Tokyo immediately demanded to have an interview with Belenko, who the Soviets insisted had made an emergency landing in Japan and now was being kept prisoner against his will. The Soviets charged that Japan was acting at the instigation of "a third country" and warned that a refusal to meet their request could lead to repercussions. The Japanese coolly replied that the plane was being held as evidence in the legal proceeding against Belenko and might have to be dismantled, part by part, to determine the facts of the case. After at least five separate Soviet diplomatic protests, Belenko finally agreed to meet with a Russian embassy official. But the meeting, held shortly before his Tokyo departure, was short. Belenko, who obviously was less than impressed by the arguments of the Communist official, waved merrily to newsmen as he climbed into an auto after the confrontation.

Search for Secrets. Belenko's delight was shared by members of an elite group of U.S. Air Force technicians, known as the Foreign Technology Division. The division normally must draw its conclusions about the capability of foreign military aircraft by such means as electronic eavesdropping and reports and pictures from agents. Now they have the chance to kick the tires and feel the rivets of a plane about which they had only fragmentary information.

After news came of the lieutenant's defection, the division quickly mustered a squad and flew it to Japan to study the MIG-25 and appraise its possibilities. For example, the squad will determine what the MIG-25 pilot can or cannot see from the cockpit. (In their first examination of a MIG-21, captured by Israel during the 1973 war, Air Force experts discovered that the pilot had limited rear vision and could not see anything directly above, a vital tip for an opponent in a dogfight.)

The experts will also look at the location of the controls to determine if the pilot can handle high-G maneuvers without having his muscles pulled awry in tight turns. They will look at the angle of the seat to see how many Gs the plane itself can sustain and measure the length of the radio antennas to get the range of frequencies the pilots operate on. Fire-control experts will look at the dials and mechanisms to determine what range the pilot must have to lock on to a target. The squad will be probing the electronic-countermeasure capability of the plane, checking whether it has a radar-absorption paint or plate to give it a distorted blip on radar scanners.

Undramatic Exit. The pilot is at least as valuable as the plane. Apparently bright and willing, Belenko will be able to tell U.S. experts much about the selection, training and flying skills of Soviet pilots. He will also be able to provide invaluable information about Soviet air defenses in eastern Siberia and the MIG-25's strengths and weaknesses.

Belenko's trip to the U.S. was less dramatic than his dash to Hakodate. The Japanese government, not wanting to give the appearance of total collusion with Washington by allowing Belenko to depart on a U.S. Air Force plane, simply put him on Northwest Orient's Flight 22, which flies regularly from Tokyo to Los Angeles with a stopover in Honolulu. Startled by heavy security precautions at the Tokyo airport, the other 300 passengers soon guessed that Belenko was on board the 747 jet. "I hope we're not hijacked!" exclaimed one nervous passenger. Actually the flight was uneventful. Accompanied by a bevy of U.S. officials, Belenko remained sequestered in the upper-deck lounge until he arrived in the U.S. to begin a new life as one of the most important Soviet defectors yet to reach the West.

* The U.S.'s SR-71, which last July flew at 2,200 m.p.h., is used solely for reconnaissance.

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