Staverton paused. “I’m afraid that’s out of the question, Robert. The classification on this one is so high I’m not even going to allow you to talk to yourself until it’s over.”
Fleming gritted his teeth.
“And when will that be?”
“If we’re lucky? Ten days at the most.”
Kruze was leaning against the door at the mouth of the huge flight-test hangar at the far, most secure, end of the airfield, studying the stubby little aircraft in the centre of the concrete floor. He had been there for the best part of an hour, just watching it and the team of riggers, fitters and Rostock scientists who had laboured through the night, under the fierce direction of chief Broyles, to get it assembled and ready for the flight.
Sleep had not come easily to Kruze. When Mulvaney had told him late the previous night that he was to take the Komet up so soon, he had stared at him in disbelief. The station commander almost sounded apologetic: the orders had come directly from the Bunker. There was to be a demonstration and Kruze was to fly it. And that was it. No work-up flights and little time for familiarization. Mulvaney had wrung his hands and told him that if it was any consolation Luftwaffe Komet pilots were accorded the same training procedure. Next to none.
He became aware of a presence beside him.
“Taking a last look at her, eh?” Mulvaney’s words echoed throughout the hangar. “Did their scientists tell you everything you wanted to know?”
“Their scientists?” Kruze smiled. “They’re ours now.”
Mulvaney shuffled uneasily. “They promised full co-operation, you know. I’ll tear the hide off them if they don’t play ball.”
Kruze had a sudden absurd impression of a younger Mulvaney leading the Rostock scientists out onto the school cricket field. He smiled again. Perhaps he was cracking up. First Penny, then Fleming’s return, now the Komet.
“Don’t worry,” he said, “they gave me their full co-operation. They seemed quite decent chaps, actually.” He thought it was the sort of thing Mulvaney wanted to hear. “Told me it was just like flying a glider.” He waited for his own echo to come back to him, before adding: “With a bloody great firework shoved up the tail.”
Kruze detached himself from Mulvaney’s side and ambled round the Komet, occasionally tugging at a control surface or running his hand along its smooth skin. Sergeant Broyles watched him for a moment, before leaving by the rear exit, ushering his groundcrew with him.
The Komet was tiny. Its fuselage was no longer than the length of three men end to end, while its swept wings were probably less than thirty feet in span. There was no horizontal tail surface, just a vertical stabilizer that extended to a height of about eight feet from the ground. Perhaps its most unusual feature was the undercarriage which, the Rostock team told him, consisted of two unnaturally large wheels to be jettisoned as soon as the rocket fighter lifted off from the runway. Landing was carried out on a long skid, mounted centrally under the belly. Right at the back were the two tiny exhaust ports for the twin Walter rocket engines.
The crosses and swastikas stood out starkly against the mottled green and brown surface of the wings and fin.
Kruze checked they were alone. “What’s it about, Paddy? I mean, why all the fuss? Yesterday evening we were assured a decent test period — at least, by Staverton’s standards — then, bang! It’s all go. It doesn’t add up.”
They were on first name terms at the EAEU, so small was the team, but it was the only time Mulvaney could remember Kruze actually using his. “I don’t know, Piet, and that’s the truth. But it can only mean one thing.”
Yes, one thing, Kruze thought. “So what’s the target?” He didn’t expect an answer.
Mulvaney shook his head. “I really don’t know. All I do know is what you’ll hear me say at the briefing and I think you will find that startling enough.” Mulvaney looked at his watch. “My word,” he said, “the delegation from the Ministry will be getting impatient. Piet, it’s time,” he said. “Shall we go?”
Kruze followed Mulvaney through the door at the rear of the hangar which led to the propulsion laboratories. At the end of one of the immense testing chambers, Kruze saw a group of people assembled. The Rostock scientists had exchanged their scruffy suits for white laboratory coats and seemed not the least put out by their new surroundings. Amongst the rest Kruze saw the various bigwigs from the Ministry, a stern-looking admiral, a bespectacled Army general and, finally, Air Vice Marshal Staverton himself. He cast a quick glance around for Fleming, finding him before long at the back of the room with several other middle-ranking officers. Their eyes met and, before the Rhodesian could look away, Fleming gave him a casual, friendly wave.
Mulvaney asked them to take their seats and then led one of the German scientists to the small stage at the end of the room. On the podium was a table, behind which was a blackboard. It reminded Kruze of the backdrop to the single classroom in the little schoolhouse he had attended in the bush. As Mulvaney rubbed his hands and looked around him the German donned an asbestos suit, thick white gloves and a protective hood and visor of the sort used by RAF crash-truck crews. Mulvaney, aware that he was no longer the centre of attention, coughed to signal he was about to speak.
“Gentlemen, I don’t think I need tell you of the unqualified success of the mission which has resulted in your trip down to Farnborough today. Guided largely by the efforts of Air Vice Marshal Staverton, we have managed to obtain the Nazis’ most advanced aeronautical development to date, the Messerschmitt 163C Komet long range rocket-powered fighter-bomber. For those of you who have not yet seen the aircraft, there will be an opportunity to inspect it after the little demonstration that we are about to lay on for you here.”
Kruze looked from Staverton to the two other senior officers beside him. Just what the hell were they doing at Farnborough?
“The Messerschmitt 163B Komet has been an all too familiar sight to our bomber crews over Germany, particularly our friends the Americans,” Mulvaney continued, “But what we have in the next door hangar represents an even greater threat. We believe that this version is about to go into series production in deep underground factories in southern Germany and Austria and will be used to defend these territories if the Nazis make a tactical withdrawal there. With its air-to-ground capability and its longer range, it will be able to strike deep into our own territory. It is a very worrying development indeed.
“With the 163C fighter-bomber geared as the basis of an air defence system for the so-called Alpine Redoubt, it became of paramount importance for us to obtain one of these aircraft in order to find ways to counter the threat. I very much hope that our test-pilot, Squadron Leader Kruze here, will be able to identify its key weaknesses while we put the Komet through its paces over the next few weeks. Such an evaluation will be crucial if we are to neutralize the weapon in the future.
“What makes the Komet unique is its rocket propulsion system. As those of you who are familiar with Farnborough and the work of the EAEU will be aware, Britain has made significant advances in the field of jet propulsion. But when it comes to rocket research, gentlemen, I am afraid to say we know next to nothing. We have, however, been fortunate enough to secure the services of a number of German scientists who have, in the very short space of time since our recovery of the Komet, given us a remarkable insight into its performance. I would therefore like to hand you over to Doctor Hausser. I would like to stress that he and his colleagues have no sympathy for the Nazi regime…” He paused. “I’ll leave him to explain exactly what gives the Komet its awesome performance.”