JR laughed. “They’ll never believe me, but I like your optimism.”
Rob could only admire JR and his laid-back approach to impending doom. He saw the same twinkle in his eyes that he’d seen so often with Millie.
Rob descended and joined downwind, trying to minimise the time between now and whatever would greet them on the ground. He just wanted it over with.
The Anson flew over the West Porton double perimeter fence; he glanced out of his window. A collection of police vehicles were parked on the apron, with men standing beside them.
He looked ahead and brought the aircraft down onto the runway, knowing that whatever happened, this would be his final flight as an RAF pilot.
I’m not even thirty years old.
He turned onto the taxiway and brought the aircraft parallel to TFU before turning in. The official reception would happen in clear view of the planning room.
JR helped him shut the aircraft down. They unstrapped and looked at each other.
“Let’s do this together,” JR said. They both left the cockpit. Rob opened the door and JR folded the stairs out.
Standing in front of them were four uniformed security force officers, one of whom Rob recognised as the man who interviewed him, Hoskins. He stepped forward.
“Flight Lieutenant Robert May, I am placing you under arrest on suspicion of disobeying direct orders, the unauthorised use of RAF equipment, and breaching the Official Secrets Act. Do you understand?”
He looked beyond the men in front of him and saw Kilton, lurking in the gloom of the doorway to TFU. Squinting, he could just about make out some faces staring from the planning room.
He looked back at the squadron leader who had announced his arrest.
“I have urgent information about a TFU project—”
“There’ll be time for that later.” Hoskins turned to one of the other uniformed men. “Sergeant, please take the flight lieutenant to the station.”
As the sergeant stepped forward, the senior officer turned to JR. “We’re arresting you on suspicion of aiding and abetting.”
JR shrugged.
They ushered Rob into the back of a car by himself and drove from the apron. He looked across at TFU to see Kilton return inside as the faces at the window withdrew.
SUSIE WALKED through the empty passenger terminal building at Southampton. She called her desk officer from a public telephone just inside the main doors.
“We have what I believe is grounds to intervene in the Milford case.”
“I see,” Roger replied. Two words that dripped with scepticism. “Just to be clear, you did not intervene as discussed?”
“May carried out the task of his own volition. As I said, he was going whether we liked it or not.”
“You better talk to them upstairs.” The line went quiet.
Susie pulled her notepad from her purse.
The line stayed quiet.
At her level, tasks involved staying unseen and making reports, yet here she was, running an entire operation.
And now what? What happens next?
“Miss Attenborough?”
“Yes.”
“I’m putting you through to Mr Collingwood.”
The department head. A man she’d been introduced to on her first day and had not seen since.
“Miss Attenborough. How was your day trip?”
“Hello, sir. I’m sorry I ended up doing a little more than we planned, but I really had no choice. Rob May was determined.”
“I see.”
“But we have made a significant discovery. We have the knowledge required to challenge the conventional wisdom that seems to surround Guiding Light.”
There was a pause. “Go on.”
“The system is flawed. It’s a small, often inconsequential error from the laser rangefinder to the autopilot. But with the number of flights planned both here and in the United States, it will claim aircrew lives.”
“Quite a bold statement. May I ask how you know this?”
“Before he died, Christopher Milford managed to smuggle a good number of tapes from West Porton to the maths department at Oxford University. That’s how they found and quantified the flaw.”
“And that’s where Professor Leonard Belkin comes in?”
“Yes, he allowed use of the mainframe computer. But he wasn’t aware of the details. He was able to extrapolate the numbers, though. He carried out important work, albeit unknowingly.”
“That’s as may be, but even before we present it, this theory has been thoroughly dismissed by those with access to the actual project recordings. TFU are content to continue with Guiding Light and that’s been backed at the highest level in government.”
“I know, but I believe a cover-up is in place, led by Mark Kilton. It possibly involves DF Blackton as well.”
“It sounds elaborate.”
“Sir, I’ve seen the results in black-and-white.” She pulled a piece of paper from her pocket. “8.75 crew members a year would die. That’s just from a 0.014% rate of error from the laser beam.”
“Fine. So we ask West Porton to examine these tapes that Milford, as you say, smuggled away. I think that’s the best we can hope for. With the extra scrutiny they won’t be able to disguise the results.”
Susie sighed.
“We don’t have the tapes, sir.”
“Where are they?”
“Incinerated.”
“I see. So you have no evidence for these rather extreme allegations which have already been batted away by TFU?”
“You have to understand the position Milford was in, sir. Mark Kilton’s all powerful. Milford was scared of him. That’s why the evidence was destroyed. But even without the tapes, we know enough. We need to take action.”
“I’m not sure I see that, Miss Attenborough. Not without evidence. What action do you suppose we should take? Give me your precise recommendations.”
She took a deep breath.
“Kilton operates with an autonomy that does not fit with the armed forces hierarchy. I believe he has lines of authority to government which allow him to bypass the usual checks and balances. Ultimately, he’s used this to press into service a potentially dangerous aircraft system.”
“I understand the case you have made, Miss Attenborough, but I asked you for your recommended actions.”
“Guiding Light needs to be halted and independently investigated.”
“And who do you suggest does that?”
“I’m not sure. The existing trials units at Boscombe Down?”
Collingwood spoke calmly, with a sing-song, matter-of-fact voice. “That would undermine TFU and the point of its existence. It would also expose a Top Secret project to an intolerable number of witnesses, which would be in breach of the United Kingdom’s undertaking to the United States. And I don’t need to remind you that a great deal of investment is at stake.”
“Then we concentrate on Kilton—”
“Have him arrested?”
“Yes.”
“On what charge?”
Susie had a sinking feeling. She could imagine Roger laughing in the background.
“Falsifying aircraft trial results. And I believe that would just be the start. We should also look carefully at the crash that killed Milford.”
“An inquiry is already taking place into that. Its conclusion is likely to rule out Guiding Light as a culprit.”
“That’s a cover.”
He sighed. “You understand the problem I have, Miss Attenborough. Your word against an independent Board of Inquiry and a decorated senior officer in Mark Kilton. What we need is hard evidence. Irrefutable. Something the director would have no choice about. I’m afraid we are a long way from that point.”
“What about the statistics I gave you? Derived from actual flying data, straight from the aircraft.”