The title tells all--which isn't much--about this bit of British B-picture tedium. Millionaire aviation pioneer Sir Arthur Todd dies while flying, leaving behind a steamy diary and an odd bequest: a round-the-world race open to all comers, with a bash of cash, a trophy, and a glorious old baling-wire airplane as prizes. The special condition of the race is that the entrants fly twin-engine business jets, which will require considerable endurance in circumnavigating the globe. Seven crews finally take off, but only three ever finish. The others are interrupted by terrorists, Mafia drug smugglers, a Chinese guided missile that goes off course and disintegrates a plane in a 1000-megaton blast (that does not stop the race, however), and other man-made crunches. Meanwhile a British newshound is chasing through the States on the trail of Sir Arthur's great romance of years past, Anne Jefferson. This allows Lynne to draw in some Hell's Angels and highway countermen, who speak strangely British locutions (Newsman: ""How much do I owe you?"" Counterman: ""Two bucks fifty""). The climax is a mushy landing that bounces and wobbles but never really satisfies. It just ends.