The first man protested, but appeared to give in.
The car started, followed by a grinding of gears. Susie raised her head. The car was facing them, but the headlights were off.
The car backed away, did a clumsy three-point manoeuvre and drove out of the car park, lights still off.
She let out a breath.
The others took off again, and she leapt up to follow.
The next door yielded to another key and once inside they found an unlocked internal door that opened into a corridor. They turned left, but this led only to another enclosed office. Turning around, Susie found herself at the front of the band of activists. As she moved forward, she came to an additional door, but this had a glass panel which revealed the inside of the actual hangar.
Her eyes stared at millions of pounds worth of modern military aircraft.
A Victor faced them with its sad eyes; beyond that, under its tail, a Hawker Hunter. Beyond both of them: a huge white Vulcan. Aircraft took up every inch of the hangar.
She tried the door; it was locked.
Megan appeared and ran through her collection of keys.
The fifth one she tried made another clunk as the lock sprung open.
The four of them entered.
“They’re huge,” Samantha said. “I hadn’t realised.”
“Shhh!” Megan hissed.
Susie watched as she retrieved the camera.
Megan turned to Susie and Samantha. “Find the offices. Remember, anything that looks secret.”
They set off and walked past a yellow ladder hanging down from the underbelly of the Vulcan.
The internal door between the hangar and the offices that ran along the front of the building was unlocked.
After walking down a corridor lined with pictures of experimental aircraft, they came to a large room with high desks.
The orange light from the apron threw strange shapes on the walls.
Susie read the sign on the nearest office door.
CO ‘TFU’.
And above a hatch at the far end of the room: ROYAL AIR FORCE TEST FLYING UNIT.
At the opposite end of the room was a bar, complete with tea urn and kettles. On the left side ran a wide corridor. Susie investigated.
It contained rows of lockers, each with a name. Bryan Dillain, Chris Milford, Frank Vansertima, Speedy Johnson.
Two of the wooden doors were unlocked and half open. She peered inside and saw only jumpers and odd items of clothing.
Susie moved on, monitoring Samantha across the room.
She walked between the map tables, back toward the hatch.
Alongside the internal wall that enclosed what appeared to be an admin area were a row of padlocked cabinets. Each was labelled SECURE CABINET with a number.
“Bingo,” said Samantha.
Susie examined the flimsy padlock. None of the keys they had would fit it.
She retrieved the bolt croppers from her rucksack and handed them to Samantha. But the teeth were too big for the small metal loop.
Susie examined the lock again; it was held on by four screws that had been painted over.
She rummaged in the rucksack and produced a couple of screwdrivers.
It only took a couple of minutes before the fastening fell away and one side of the cabinet opened.
Inside, in the gloomy light, there were folders and a pile of cardboard sleeves. Samantha picked up a wad of folders and leafed through them. She held one up for Susie to see.
GUIDING LIGHT – TOP SECRET
Susie nodded, and Samantha stuffed it into the rucksack.
Susie picked up one of the cardboard sleeves.
Inside was a reel of magnetic tape.
“Do they make music here? Is that their secret?” She slung the tapes into the rucksack and moved to the next cabinet.
As they removed the first screw in the next lock, they heard an engine noise.
Both women froze.
A vehicle door slammed close by.
“Shit,” Samantha said.
Susie looked back along the room to the tea bar. She pushed the cabinet doors shut, but had to leave the lock hanging off.
“Follow me.” She ran in a crouch across the full length of the room, just as a door swung open on the airfield side.
The two women reached the bar as the beam of a torch swung over the surrounding desks.
They tucked themselves in. Susie was out of puff but desperately trying not to pant.
She clutched the rucksack, now full of stolen documents, and opened her mouth wide to breathe as quietly as possible.
Samantha, who was nearest the edge of the bar, leant out.
“I think he’s gone into the hangar,” she whispered.
“Nothing we can do.”
They waited.
After what seemed an age, they heard footsteps back in the room. The torchlight swung about again.
The footsteps grew louder.
The women’s hearts thudded in their chests.
The man shuffled up to the tea bar; Susie could hear his breathing.
She rolled her eyes up, without moving her head. If he stepped behind the bar, they were caught.
A hand appeared. She almost let out a whimper.
The hand settled on the tea urn, followed by a disappointed grunt, and the footsteps receded.
A minute later, they heard the vehicle start up and drive off.
Susie and Samantha rose to their feet.
The room was empty; the open cabinet hadn’t been spotted.
Megan and David appeared at the door.
“Over here,” said Susie.
They walked over, Megan with a pronounced limp.
“He didn’t see you?” asked Samantha.
“No, we were inside the Vulcan but we switched the light off in time.”
“Are you OK?” Susie asked, nodding at Megan’s foot. “Do you want me to carry your stuff?”
“I’ll be fine.” She waved a hand.
Susie glanced down. Megan held the camera.
“I think this is the quickest way out,” Samantha said, pointing at the door the security guard had used.
It had a Yale key they could open from the inside. The group spilled out onto the brightly lit apron.
They stood still for a moment, and Susie strained her ears. She could just about hear the guard’s vehicle retreating.
This time they didn’t avoid the shadows; instead they ran across the apron. After thirty seconds they found themselves back in cover on the grass.
They eventually reached the fence, adrenaline flowing, but couldn’t locate the cut wire.
Megan whimpered with pain.
“You did a good job disguising the entry point,” Susie said to David.
“It’s here somewhere…” He ran his hand along the lower part of the wire.
Behind them: the distant sound of an engine. Susie spun around to see a pair of headlights heading across the apron.
“Quickly, for Christ’s sake!” Megan shouted, no longer worried about being overheard.
“Over here!”
They ran in the shout's direction, a hundred yards further along.
Susie held back and helped Megan through, keeping an eye on the patrol vehicle. It hadn’t spotted them.
She was the last to crawl out. As they made their way around, she kept her eyes fixed on the camera while she carried the documents.
Back at the peace camp, they hurried to the wigwam.
Sampson was waiting. He emptied the contents of the rucksack on a trestle table and shone a light at the documents.
Susie caught sight of some headings.
‘Laser Function Parameters’ was one.
A laser? She whistled to herself.
She picked up a tape. “What are these?” she asked Sampson.
He shrugged and said nothing.
Megan placed the camera on the table.
“You got something?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Right. Give me five minutes.”