Джеймс Блатч - The Final Flight

Rob smiled. “Let’s go somewhere quiet.”

In the small dining room, they sat close to each other at one corner of the polished oak table.

"We were at low-level. A routine trial flight, I suppose, but in our business, your father’s business, there really is no such thing as routine.

“We were about ten minutes into a run through central Wales, the hills higher than us both sides.” Charlie looked alarmed. “I’m making it sound more daredevil than it really is. Much of the RAF’s flying is at low-level now, even lower than the three hundred feet we go down to in the Vulcan.

“Anyway, something went wrong. A glancing blow from an outcrop, we think. It damaged the left side of the aircraft, left us with no ability to control it.” He paused, picking his way through the most delicate part. “It happened quickly. The aircraft dived. We had no option, we had to eject or stay with the aircraft.”

“And father?”

Rob looked down at his shoes.

“The Vulcan. The emergency egress for the rear crew was designed by men who believed it would be used at high level. If something went wrong at thirty thousand feet, they would have minutes to release the hatch and bale out. But at low-level… I’m sorry, Charlie. Your father and Steve Bright, they had no chance. No chance at all. At least it would have been instant.”

Charlie screwed his eyes closed, then opened them again.

Rob held out his hand, clasping his shoulder.

“Why did they fly at low-level if the men in the back couldn’t get out?”

Rob had no answer.

“I’m sorry, Charlie.”

They sat in silence for a while as Charlie dabbed his eyes with a blue handkerchief.

“I am so pleased you got to see your father a couple of weeks ago.”

Charlie looked confused. “But I haven’t seen him since Easter.”

Rob furrowed his brow. “I thought he visited you in Oxford the Saturday before last?”

Charlie shook his head. “No.”

“Ah, there you are!” Georgina appeared in the doorway. “Charlie, darling, there are people here who want to remark on how much you’ve grown since you were four years old.”

“Thank you, Mr May.” Charlie followed his mother into the living room.

Rob rose to rejoin the group just as Georgina popped her head back into the room.

“Rob, I think you should take Millie’s work bits, don’t you?”

“Yes, of course, I can come back with the car later.”

He and Mary left the house as more of Georgina’s relatives and old friends turned up.

“You accumulate a lot of friends in the RAF,” said Mary, as they walked back toward their own quarter.

“Yes,” replied Rob, “and you lose a lot as well.”

IT WAS A WARM DAY, and Rob fastened back the soft canvas top of his Healey.

He ached from the ejection, and he wasn’t sure he had the strength for meetings with anyone, let alone Kilton.

The low car barely skimmed over the surface of the single-track road that led to the main gate.

He slowed for a group of walkers ahead. They held banners, and tatty white sheeting painted with black CND symbols.

The group ambled toward him; clearly, they had no intention of letting him pass. He put two wheels on the verge and pulled on the handbrake.

They drifted past. He was conspicuous, sitting in his open-top car, in his Royal Air Force uniform. From the group of stragglers at the back, a young woman approached the car. She was pretty, with short, dark hair and wearing a thin top which was loose and open.

She walked up to the Healey and leant forward, placing her hands on the bonnet. His eyes automatically followed the line of her neck to her small breasts.

There were jeers from the others, laughing at his obvious discomfort.

He snapped his eyes up, mortified that she should have trapped him like that. The woman had a sweet smile; her eyes scanned the car, taking everything in.

She looked directly at him, held eye contact for a few moments, then straightened up and walked on.

Rob watched the group meander away in his wing mirror.

He put the car into first gear and pulled off toward the main gate.

The car search was tediously long. It was a quiet Saturday, so everyone received maximum attention from the security guards.

Rob got out of the car and waited. His eyes tracked back along the road, but the protestors had disappeared from sight.

“They give you any trouble?” the sergeant asked, following his gaze.

“No. No trouble.” A corporal continued to comb his car. “Must be nice, though.”

“What’s that, sir?”

“To be so free and easy. They didn’t look like they had a care in the world.”

“They didn’t look like they’d seen a bath recently, either. You can carry on now, sir.” He stepped back and gave a smart salute.

At TFU, Rob was faced with a new barrier, manned by a group of West Porton Security Police.

He edged toward the temporary bollards, assuming the officers would pull them aside for him, but a security man stepped out, raising the palm of his hand.

“Sorry, sir. This unit is out of bounds. If you’re after TFU staff, they’re in the station headquarters building.”

“Really? Are you sure?”

“Yes, sir.”

THE HQ BUILDING WAS QUIET.

A corporal sat at a desk in the station commander’s outer office.

“Mr May?”

Rob nodded.

“Wing Commander Kilton is expecting you. You can go in.”

In the office Mark Kilton sat at a small conference table; Periwinkle was behind his desk.

“Sit down, May. I’m afraid I have some very serious news.”

Rob took a seat.

“In clearing out Millie’s locker, we have found something very disturbing.”

“I’m sorry?”

“We found extensive evidence that Millie was stealing information about Guiding Light. Data tapes, records of previous trials, part of a manual with his own handwritten annotations. And that’s just for starters.” Kilton stared at him. “You look surprised, May, but I’m not.”

“You’re not, sir?”

“Millie was bad with money, May. We all know he lost his savings on that stupid investment. This project was worth millions. He was nearing retirement. I’m afraid it all adds up. And to think I charged him with the investigation into who leaked Guiding Light to the outside world.”

Rob glanced at the station commander, who so far had said nothing.

“It was probably an oversight. I mean, they were still in TFU, weren’t they? So he hadn’t actually stolen anything?”

“We don’t know that, May. The locker was probably just a staging post before he smuggled them out. We’ll find out everything. Dead men have no secrets.” Kilton stared at him. “Is there anything you need to tell me? It will be a lot better for you if you speak now.”

The phone rang. The station commander answered it, said a few curt words and hung up.

“Well, May? Anything we need to know?”

“Millie worried about the system,” said Rob. “I’m sure that’s what this was all about.”

Kilton didn’t look convinced. “What does that mean, though, Rob? Did he tell you he was up to something?”

Rob shook his head.

“Of course, he might have used his supposed concerns as a cover for something else entirely.”

Rob could only stare back at Kilton, who stood up.

“Fine. We’ll know more once they carry out a full search. They’ll turn his house and car upside down.”

“But Georgina’s at the house.”

“So? This is simply too serious to delay.”

Realising he was being dismissed, Rob got to his feet.

“Have you written your account of the crash yet? May?” Kilton had to raise his voice to get Rob’s attention back.