Джеймс Блатч - The Final Flight

“No, not yet.”

“Well, find a table and chair and do that now.”

Rob left the office and walked back down the corridor, out of the main doors and straight to his car.

Once through the main gate, he put his foot down and sped quickly along the lane. The protestors had moved on.

He came to a halt with a squeal of the tyres.

Georgina opened the door; he stepped toward her and put both hands on her shoulders.

“Are you alone?”

“They’re all in the garden, apart from Charlie. Why?”

“No-one else has called? No-one official?”

Georgina shook her head. “No. Not since Mark yesterday. Should I be expecting someone?”

“You said earlier that you wanted me to come back? You had some things for me?”

She looked blank for a moment. “Oh, yes. Just some work stuff. What’s going on, Rob?”

“Can you get it now?”

“If you like.”

She headed upstairs.

Charlie was in the kitchen to his left, staring at him. Rob gave him a weak smile.

A moment later, Georgina tramped down the stairs in her slippers carrying an open vegetable box.

He glanced in, relieved to see Millie’s flying logbooks and nothing more sinister. He picked them up and handed them to Georgina. “You can keep these. Maybe Charlie would like them?”

“Thank you,” Charlie said from the kitchen.

Rob looked back in the box. A large brown envelope filled the bottom. It looked new.

He pulled open the top and peered inside.

Guiding Light – Data Output May 1966 – Page 12.

“Oh, Christ.”

“What is it?” Georgina said, staring at him.

Underneath the envelope were two reels from the project.

“Oh, no.”

He looked underneath the tape sleeves.

More and more. Each document stamped with a red TOP SECRET .

Outside, a car turned into the road. Rob pulled the front door shut.

“What’s going on, Rob?” said Georgina, peering over his shoulder to see who was arriving at the house.

“Don’t open the door.”

“Why ever not?”

He pushed past her to the small porch window.

Two green RAF security police Land Rovers, complete with blue flashing lights.

One other car, unmarked.

Several serious looking men climbing out and heading toward the house.

He turned back to Georgina and, still holding the box in one hand, grabbed her wrist.

“Listen to me. These men, they will search the house. They think something’s missing. Millie wasn’t doing anything wrong. You have to believe me.”

“Rob, you’re scaring me. What are you talking about?”

“Do not mention this paperwork. Do you understand? Don’t tell them you gave it to me.”

Footsteps and voices.

“There’s more upstairs.”

“Christ! Georgina, get it quickly. All of it.”

She ran upstairs.

Charlie looked panicked.

“It’s going to be OK,” Rob said.

He moved to the sitting room door, away from the porch window.

There was a knock at the front door.

Charlie moved as if to open it, but Rob shook his head.

Georgina appeared with a stack of papers in her hand. “I think this is everything.”

“Let’s hope so.” Rob placed them in the box.

He spoke in a whisper, “Both of you. Please listen. Do not tell them you gave me this material.”

They nodded.

“What has my father done?” Charlie said, his voice wavering.

Another sharp knock at the door.

“Nothing wrong, Charlie. Your father has done absolutely nothing wrong.”

Rob hurried into the living room and out of the French windows into the garden.

Half a dozen women milled around with cups of tea. He walked through the middle of the lawn, nodding and smiling, before disappearing through the firs.

With clumps of greenery in his hair, he broke into a trot along the path that ran down the back of the married quarters, where he was shielded from the houses by the trees.

Ahead, the CND marchers continuing their circumnavigation of the station. He stopped running and tried as best as he could to look normal, avoiding any eye contact.

There were a few jeers as he pushed past them, but eventually the small group disappeared behind.

At the end of the row of houses, he made his way along the far side of a group of garages, and ran until he got home.

He burst through the kitchen door, staring at Mary, looking wild.

“What on earth?”

“Millie’s in trouble.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“I can’t tell you why, but I need to hide this stuff.”

He brushed past her into the hallway and threw open the door to the understairs cupboard. He stashed the box inside.

“Rob, what are you doing?”

He backed out of the cupboard, closed it and stood up.

“Never look at the contents of that box, do you understand?”

“Is that an order, sir? Why would I?”

“Look… They think Millie may have stolen something.”

“What?”

“Kilton’s launched an investigation. Georgina could lose her pension. She might even be dragged into it. I mean, people could go to prison. I’m not exaggerating.”

“But that’s ridiculous. Millie wouldn’t steal anything, would he?”

“No, of course not. But it’s complicated.”

Beads of sweat trickled down his forehead.

Her eyes went to the cupboard.

Mary stepped forward and put a hand on his chest. “Rob, are we in danger because you’ve brought this into the house?”

His breathing settled. He looked calmer, but now lost in his own thoughts.

He shook his head and disappeared upstairs without replying.

“HE BROUGHT nothing here that looked like this?”

The plain-clothes security man held up a cardboard sleeve in front of Georgina’s eyes. He tipped the contents into his hand, revealing a reel of tape.

She shook her head. “No. We have a record player, but not a tape player.”

He studied her.

“And no other papers that you know of in the house?”

“I’ve already told you, no. I’m sorry, officer, can you please tell me what this is all about?”

Next door, she could hear one of the man’s uniformed colleagues moving furniture about. Charlie stood in the kitchen doorway looking agitated.

“As I explained, your husband was involved in highly sensitive projects and this is a routine operation to ensure the security of those projects is maintained throughout this incident.”

“This doesn’t feel very routine.”

He ignored her and tapped his foot, apparently waiting for his searchers to find something.

Noises from upstairs suggested they were being thorough.

MARY SAT on the arm of a sitting room chair and waited for her husband to reappear.

Eventually, she heard his footsteps on the stairs; he had wet hair and carried a change of clothes.

He sat on the sofa, looking anxious.

Before she could ask him anything, he began to talk.

“Millie and I were both working on a project that was Top Secret. Officially ‘Top Secret’. It’s not just an expression.”

“What does that mean?”

“What it sounds like. It’s the highest level. It means that in theory, at least, we can’t discuss it with anyone, even our own colleagues. Although many people at TFU knew of the project’s existence, they cloaked everything about it in a security blanket. That’s why they search cars going on and off, just in case someone has some paperwork they shouldn’t have. Even if it’s inadvertent, the consequences can be severe.”

“OK,” she said. “I assumed that’s the sort of thing you did. But why the sudden panic?”

Rob’s eyes searched the carpet.