Another controller shouted over to them. ‘Sir, the Brinton Aviation Devon is just taxiing in from Runway 24.’
Gable looked at his watch, it was 14.05. On the other side of the airfield, Brannigan dropped his cigarette stub onto the floor and stepped on it. He also checked his watch and walked along the trade stands of Hall 1, and out into the display area to the packed crowds.
A voice on the public address system rang out, ‘Attention, this is a call for Mr Jake Brannigan of GK Systems. Please can he go to the display office situated behind Hall 4, Thank you.’
Startled at the sound of his name, Brannigan looked up at the speaker. He looked around, placed the box on the wall next to him, and opened it. Inside was the camera in which the late Frank Maitland had briefed him.
Brannigan picked it up and checked it, noticing the three buttons on the side of the outer casing. He placed the strap around his neck and reached into his pocket, pulling out a sheet of notepaper. He quickly glanced at Maitland’s written instructions, then placed the note back into his pocket.
The crowd had all moved to the barriers, watching a small helicopter perform a landing on the back of a flatbed trailer. Brannigan moved among the crowd, stopping occasionally to survey his surroundings.
Outside the display office Swan and Gable briefed a group of policemen from the Hampshire Constabulary. Also in attendance were five soldiers of the Coldstream Guards, who were at the show as part of the detachment to protect the royal party of the Duke and Duchess of Gloucester.
Swan spoke to the uniformed bodies before him. ‘Jake Brannigan will most likely be armed, we must find him before three o’clock.’ He checked his watch. It was 14.35. ‘We have exactly twenty five minutes, gentlemen.’ He turned to the senior ranking soldier. ‘Staff Sergeant, you take one of your men and three constables, and search the exhibition halls. Mr Gable and I will take the rest of your men and these two constables and search along the crowd line. If you see someone matching the American’s description, then I want you to call in on the walkie-talkies with his location. Is everyone clear?’
Everyone nodded at Swan. ‘One more thing, he will probably have a short range transmitter on him to radio the bomb. It is vital we get to this before the Silver Angel comes into range. Good luck, everyone.’ He stood watching with Gable as they filed out of the door.
Chapter 24
Outside the boardroom at the Ministry of Supply, Howard Barnett sat opposite his boss Henry Brinton, looking down at the highly polished wood floor. Situated to the right of the boardroom door was the secretary to the Minister’s desk.
Hilary Baker sat at the desk, going through a transcript of dictation from a previous meeting. Barnett could hear voices coming from inside the room and glanced over to Brinton. They didn’t say anything; the looks they gave each other completely interpreted their thoughts. Then, the intercom buzzed on Hilary Baker’s desk, and she leant over, pushing the red button.
A disembodied metallic voice sounded through the speaker.
‘Please can you send in Mr Brinton and Mr Barnett, Hilary.’
The secretary instantly responded. ‘Yes, Minister.’ She looked over her glasses at the Brinton men. ‘The Minister will see you now gentlemen. Please go straight in.’
Almost simultaneously, the two men picked up their black briefcases and rose from their chairs. Barnett paused to allow Brinton to enter the room first. Inside the long room, Barnett stood taking in the surroundings. Lining the walls were portraits of the pioneers of British industrial achievements across the centuries, with the likes of Sir Christopher Wren, Abraham Darby III, Robert Stevenson and Thomas Telford, among others who had made a vast contribution to Britain’s thriving development. Barnett walked over to the long, highly polished oak table and sat down. On the wall opposite looking down at him was his childhood favourite industrial pioneer, Isambard Kingdom Brunel. Barnett smiled as the steely eyes of the Victorian engineer gazed at him, posed with one hand in the pocket of his coat in front of the SS Great Eastern. One of his many mechanical accomplishments. ‘If I sit here in front of you dear old Isambard, hopefully it will be good omen,’ Barnett suggested.
Henry Brinton sat next to him and placed his briefcase on the table. Barnett shuffled in his chair and then turned his attention to the four men sitting to the right of him. ‘Good afternoon, gentlemen. Thank you for coming,’ greeted the Minister. ‘May I introduce the other gentlemen present at our meeting?’
The Minister turned to his right. ‘Sir Gordon Longworth, you already know of course.’ The balding sixty-four year old Defence Secretary acknowledged the two men with a cursory nod.
The Minster then turned to his left, but before he could make introductions, Barnett instantly realised that he was in the presence of none other than the US Secretary of State for Defence Richard Weinstein. The barrel chested tanned Californian stood and held out a hand to the Brinton men. ‘Gentlemen, it’s a real privilege to meet you both.’ Weinstein turned to the man sitting next to him. ‘May I introduce my chief advisor, Mr Walter Tillman?’
Tillman gave a wry smile, and stood up, also shaking the hands of the Brinton men. The seconds of silence that followed were broken by a tap at the door.
Hilary Baker walked in and sat down, placing a notepad and pen on the table in front of her. The Minister gave a friendly glare at his secretary, then addressed the table. ‘Right gentlemen, I declare this a closed meeting, and it is now in session. Ms Baker will be taking the minutes. As you are all aware, the White Paper on Defence Spending is due out tomorrow. We are here to review the situation with the BR-101 Rapier to meet Operation Requirement OR599. In light of this, we are especially interested in the update of the power plant situation. Looking at last week’s report on the extra expenditure figures, I have been asked by the PM to make an urgent decision, whether to go for the BR-101 to meet OR599, or look at similar alternatives.’
Barnett caught the Minister’s quick glance at the Americans, as he said the final word. ‘Quite frankly, the PM is most concerned that if the White Paper isn’t delivered to the house on time, serious questions will be asked by the opposition, bringing which it some potential political embarrassment to this government. So with all this at stake Mr Brinton, perhaps you can enlighten us with the latest development with this?’
Henry Brinton stood up from the table and addressed everyone. ‘May I hand that over to my Chief Designer, who has been overseeing this situation first-hand? Howard, might I ask you to inform these gentlemen of the current situation concerning the engines?’
As Brinton sat back down, Barnett fiddled with some papers then stood up. ‘Gentlemen, I have here the latest report on the BRE-311A engine. I can say that we have established the problems and are addressing them at the moment. The ground tests are scheduled for next week, so I can assure you that we will have a positive result from this, and flight testing will commence as soon as possible.’
The Minster interrupted. ‘Please excuse me, Mr Barnett. That is all well and good, but all we have seen so far is more additional costs to get this engine right. Can you truly guarantee to me that we will have the engine fully operational in the next few weeks?’
Barnett stared coldly at the Minister. ‘What I can guarantee is that I have my excellent team on it now, and they’re working their backsides off to get the BRE-311A operational.’
Embarrassed, Brinton took hold of Barnett’s arm. ‘Steady on Howard,’ he whispered.
The minister gave them both a cynical look. ‘I’m sure that they are Mr Barnett,’ he said, smiling coyly at the Americans.