‘Come on Frank, you and I are from the same stable. Spying is in our blood. We both lie for a living, don’t we?’
Maitland checked his pistol and moved forward to the front of his shield.
Swan suddenly had a thought. ‘By the way, Frank, where is Brannigan?’
‘He’s on a little insurance mission for our government. Let’s just say, he’s seeing through the FB-X deal for keeps.’
From behind his protective position, Swan thought this over.
‘It was Brannigan who planted the bomb in the trailer, wasn’t it?’
‘Yup, it sure was,’ replied the American, gleefully. ‘Jake’s our expert with the plastic, knows just how to make the right kind of bang.’
The insurance comment got Swan thinking. What did Maitland mean by this, and what did it have to do with the FB-X?
He decided to probe further. ‘So how will Brannigan insure the FB-X deal then, Frank?’
‘Too many questions, Alex. Always too many questions; let’s just say that this will bring your whole country rooting for our airplane.’
The last comment from the Eagle’s Lance operative didn’t take Swan long to realise what he had meant by this.
‘My God! You bloody madmen are going to bring down the Rapier at the SBAC show this afternoon.’
There was silence from the other side of the fuselage, then Maitland chuckled. ‘You’re a clever guy, Alex. You may as well know that not only will it come down, but it will crash into the crowd. Yeah, I know what you’re thinking pal, another accident at the SBAC will be big news, especially with people killed.’
Swan interrupted, ‘And public opinion will be that the aircraft is a death trap. Our government will then certainly scrap it for the FB-X.’
‘Bingo!’ Maitland exclaimed.
‘How are you going to bring her down into the crowd, unless…Brannigan will be at the show, won’t he?’
‘He sure will be, and ready and waiting for that baby to fly over at just the right moment, and then boom! Bye-bye to the Silver Angel, and then, one by one these babies…,’ Maitland hit his shield with his fist, ‘will be cut up to become ice boxes or some other domestic machine.’
Swan knew he had to do something, and fast. He had to get himself away from this maniac and warn the authorities at Farnborough. He needed to stall his opponent for time to think.
‘The cancellation of the contract will bankrupt Brinton, and the plant will close.’
‘That’s right, Alex. Brinton will be forced to sell the site which will then become the GK maintenance base for the FB-X.’
Swan glanced around him and noticed a staircase leading up to an upper gantry. He called out to Maitland. ‘I can’t let you do this, Frank. You know this is just madness. Who the hell in your government would veto this act? This is just plain mass murder, and you know it. One thing that I did discover from my research into The Eagle’s Lance, was that Sanderson had some highly influential men on his side, and also an enforcer by the name of Forest Maitland, your great, great grandfather I believe? Turns out that murdering is in your blood, Frank. Forest Maitland killed Kee-Haw after the declaration was signed; the Mohawks had been betrayed.’ Swan was hit with another thought. ‘Jake Brannigan thinks he’s doing his country a great service. He has no idea that it is the Eagle’s Lance calling the shots here.’
Maitland shook his head at the smartness of this man; a look of disbelief all over his face. ‘Boy, you’re smart Alex. No, Jake is just a patriot to his country. He takes his orders from me. He is just doing his job for his nation.’
While Maitland had been talking, Swan had moved over to the staircase and was now silently climbing the stairs to the top gantry platform.
His opponent had not noticed this and from this position, Swan could clearly see him crouched at the front side of an airframe looking over to where he thought Swan might be, his gun trained on the spot. He still thinks I’m behind the other one! Swan realised. But Swan had used this time to move to the gantry above the American. Maitland had been distracted by Swan’s revelations, with his opponent discovering a long kept family secret, and that Brannigan was not a member of The Eagle’s Lance, and he failed to notice that Swan was now directly above him.
Swan paused and assessed the current situation. He put down the Webley, placing it on the platform, then took one silent breath and leaped on Maitland. The impact pushed the man to the ground; his automatic thrown out of his hand, sliding under a Rapier airframe. Swan was half on top of the man and, pinning him down, punched the side of his face.
Half dazed, the American retaliated, bringing his knee up to give Swan a whack on the back of his head. Swan fell forward, giving Maitland opportunity to roll to the side and push himself up from the floor. Quickly he climbed the structure of the high overhead service platform, and Swan clambered after him.
The two men fought furiously on the side of the gantry, Maitland thrusting a foot downwards, trying to hit the target of Swan’s head. Swan grabbed the suit trousers of the American and pulled downwards. Maitland shook his leg to free himself, managing to climb further up the structure.
Swan followed in hot pursuit and gained on his assailant. The two men were now almost on the top platform, which stood thirty feet from the ground. This had been specially constructed for the construction of the horizontal stabilizer of the R-55 Rochester flying boat, back in the 1930s.
‘Give it up Alex, you can’t win.’ Blood welled in Maitland’s mouth. He spat some out and it shot passed Swan, who ensured a firm footing before reaching up to grasp the American again, holding him firmly, as the American struggled to get free.
Maitland held onto the pole that fixed into the ceiling of the hangar, securing the structure. Managing to get a leg free, he swung out his foot again, just missing the head of Swan.
The SID man noticed that the move had left the American slightly off balance, the momentum causing him to lean awkwardly with his back slightly twisted and his neck exposed.
Swan saw his chance and he grabbed at the neck, hooking his arm around it in a firm, tight grip. This caused Maitland to take a hand off the pole and use it to try to free himself from the Englishman. Swan held on, and using his full bodyweight pulled on the American so that his back began to arch in a way that the human anatomy would normally not allow.
Maitland screamed out in pain as the vertebrae in his spine began to twist agonizingly out of shape. The pain was intense as he tried to lash out with his free arm, and his leg came away from the pole. Now, both legs were dangling beneath him in mid-air. Swan held firmly as Maitland tried to reach up for him. Like a demented crab, the American flicked up his arms, trying to grip the Englishman.
Swan needed to do something before it was too late. Even in sheer agony, Maitland fought like a madman, scrabbling for bits of Swan’s jacket. Then he caught his arm and Swan was forced to release Maitland to grip the girder. The rogue CIA agent was now at the mercy of gravity, and tried to reach out for the girder, but failed. With nothing now to support him, Maitland dropped like a stone down the side of the structure. On the way down his leg caught another girder, flipping him over. Maitland plummeted, head first and screaming, to the concrete floor. Swan looked down, wincing at the thud of Maitland’s head as it hit the ground, erupting blood and tissue, some of which sprayed against the side of the Rapier.
Swan moved his hands along the support beam and reached a leg across to the safety of the platform. Climbing down from the gantry, he wiped his blooded mouth with his sleeve. He did not have to check the lifeless body staring up at him with empty eyes. The blood stained, caved-in section to the side of Maitland’s head was all it took to confirm that the man was dead.