"Indians can do all kinds of cool things with jets once they’re free of the good old FAA regulations. For those village voters in India, a jet like this is pure stage magic. They’ll paint her green, white, and saffron. Dress her up like a sacred cow on parade. They can fill the fuel tank with luminescent sparkles and outdo the Navy Blue Angels. Her best days are all ahead of her." Tony patted the instrument panel, his face tinged with sadness in the glow of the altimeter dials.