‘That’s impossible,’ Kirk said. ‘I’m telling you, we haven’t lost any aircraft, Mr Rollins.’
‘Look,’ Girling said. ‘If it’s some sort of secret, I’m not gonna quote you or nothing. I just have to be sure. My editor will kill me if I get this wrong and there is a story out there.’
‘It’s no secret and there is no story,’ Kirk snapped. ‘Four nights ago you say? This base was shut down four nights ago. No aircraft flew in or out of Seymour-Johnson for twenty-four hours either side of that period. We were on readiness to deploy overseas.’
‘Say that again.’ Girling coughed. ‘I missed that.’
‘The 68th was due to fly to Europe; then the order got cancelled,’ Kirk said slowly. ‘There was no flying while the unit was preparing to ship out. So that was definitely not our plane. In fact, I happen to know that no KC-10s flew that night. All other Stateside units were on the same readiness as ourselves. I understand that the Brits had some sort of exercise going on over there.’
‘I see,’ Girling said, trying hard to sound dejected. ‘I guess these guys, these hill walkers, must have been talking through their asses then.’
‘I guess so,’ Kirk said. ‘Goodbye, Mr Rollins.’
Girling put the phone down.
He pulled the scrap of paper from his wallet and dialled a final number. The squadron leader picked up the phone.
‘Rantz.’
‘Hello, John. It’s Tom Girling.’
‘Change your mind about yesterday?’
Girling laughed. There was something reassuringly consistent about Rantz.
‘I told you it’s not our kind of story.’
Rantz’s tone lightened. ‘What can I do for you?’
‘A couple of things,’ Girling said. ‘Were you ever due to hook up with some US Air Force tankers during this exercise? KC-10s or KC-135s?’
‘No. Why?’
‘None at all?’
‘No. All our missions were against targets that were well within our unrefuelled combat radius.’
‘What about the F-15s? Did they fly any operations during the exercise that required them to hook up with tankers?’
‘No. Red Team flew on internal fuel and drop tanks throughout the whole exercise. What’s this all about?’
Girling scribbled down the information. ‘Would you care to speculate on why F-15E fighter-bombers over here might have needed a fleet of twenty-four KC-10s in addition to a standing force of KC-135 tankers over that period?’
‘I haven’t got time to bugger around,’ Rantz said wearily. ‘I’m in the middle of packing for Whitehall.’
‘I’m serious.’
‘The last time that many American tankers were in this country was during El Dorado Canyon. And that was no exercise.’
‘Jesus Christ,’ Girling whispered. El Dorado Canyon was the code name for the USAF F-111 raid on Libya in April 1986.
‘And just to give you an idea how many aircraft that is, consider this: there weren’t even that many tankers here during the Gulf War.’ Rantz paused. ‘Are you still there, Girling?’
‘I’m still here.’ His own voice sounded remote.
‘Is that it? Is that all you wanted to know?’
‘Yes, that’s all. Thank you. See you in London, maybe.’ Girling replaced the phone on the hook.
He turned to see Mallon, a mixture of amusement and admiration on his face.
‘You sly fox,’ he said. ‘Where did you learn to do that?’
‘What, lie? It comes naturally.’
Mallon put his coffee down. ‘That was Oscar material. What did you say you did before you came here?’
‘A bit of freelance work.’
‘And before that?’
‘A stint on The Times.’
‘The London Times?’ There was disbelief in his voice. ‘What happened? Get caught fiddling your expenses?’
Girling laughed. ‘No.’
‘Then how did you wind up at this place? A bit of a step in the wrong direction, wasn’t it?’
Girling was grateful for the phone ring. He listened to its electronic trill for a few moments, before putting it to his ear.
‘Captain Hope,’ he said, pleasantly.
She sounded surprised. ‘How did you know?’ They were the first words she had spoken.
‘You want to tell me that you made a mistake last time we spoke: KC-10s were never due for deployment to the UK.’
‘Er, yes sir. That’s right.’
‘It looks like SAC headquarters has been busy, Captain.’
Kelso looked up from his desk. ‘Well, you said you had news.’
Girling closed the door. ‘This may sound hard to believe, but whichever way I look at it — and I’ve stared at it from every angle — it rings the cherries.’
‘I’m listening.’
A hint of impatience in Kelso’s voice.
‘I think the Americans were this close from preparing another Libya-type bombing mission.’ He held his thumb and forefinger a fraction apart. ‘From bases here, in the UK.’
The shark eyes remained level.
‘This time they planned to use F-15Es — that’s a long-range strike version of the Eagle fighter — instead of F-111s.’
‘You sure about this?’
‘I’m damned near certain. I think Washington was going to use the exercise as cover. Stalwart Divider was the perfect way to get the tankers into the UK unnoticed.’
‘But why?’
‘It’s got to have something to do with events in Beirut.’
‘That’s a fuck of a long shot, Tom. You want me to run with this? Then give me some names, dates, and places.’
Girling took a step back. ‘This is where I hand the story over to you.’
Kelso stroked his beard. ‘It’s not quite that simple.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because the next man doesn’t know the technicalities like you do.’
Girling felt a scalpel make a shallow incision across his stomach. ‘I can’t get involved.’
‘Egypt was a long time ago, Tom. Don’t you think it’s — ‘
‘No. I’m not ready.’
‘Then I can’t use your half-cocked theories.’ Kelso looked implacable for a moment, then relented. He offered Girling a chair. ‘All right, suppose this is true. Why didn’t they follow through with the plan?’
‘Something changed their minds. Maybe the British Government denied permission for use of the bases at the last minute. Remember all the crap we got for supporting the Libyan bombing mission in ‘86?’
‘What if we tried our Administration sources on this?’ Kelso asked.
‘I don’t think that would be a good move.’
‘Why not?’
‘If the US Government thinks we have the story — provided it is a story — they’d leak it to the Post, or the New York Times. It’s basic damage limitation, Bob, you know that. If we went to the States with this, we’d be tossing it to the opposition on a plate.’
Kelso nodded pensively. ‘Somebody over here must have been sufficiently alarmed to have turned down a request to use UK bases. It kind of contradicts the pattern of things over the past forty years. You know, the Anglo-American ‘special relationship’ and all that.’
Kelso allowed himself another moment of contemplation. ‘Perhaps we should tough it out. Hit the Ministry of Defence with what we’ve got.’
‘Run it past DPR?’
Kelso and the MOD’s Director of Public Relations were old friends — and professional adversaries.
‘Why not?’
‘Not the sort of man you can trouble with trivia,’ Girling said.
‘So convince me the story’s worth it. Here. Now.’ Kelso sat back in his chair and brought his hands together.
Girling knew he would be allowed only one stab.