Looking at the ring, Brinton smiled back, admiring the motif on it of an eagle clutching a lance. ‘No harm done, nice motif by the way.’
‘Family emblem,’ replied Tillman, looking at his watch.
Howard Barnett met his disheartened employer outside.
‘That’s it then Howard, the Rapier is dead in the water.’
Brinton explained the outcome of the meeting to his Chief Designer.
Barnett scowled. ‘Any fool and his dog knows that the FB-X is capable of the low level recce role. That was a complete fob-off from the start.’
Brinton shook his head. ‘I’m not looking forward to this White Paper at all. If she’s scrapped, then we can also kiss goodbye our overseas orders as well.
Barnett looked at his watch and took his boss by the arm. ‘Come on Henry, let me buy you a drink. It’s twenty to three, the pub will be closing soon. I think we can just make last orders.’
Barnett then ushered Brinton across the road and into the direction of the Tattersall Arms.
Chapter 25
Brannigan watched attentively as the crowd started to move closer to the barrier in readiness for the arrival of the Rapier. Above him from a pole-mounted speaker came the announcement that in approximately seven minutes, Britain’s new prototype strike aircraft would be undertaking a fly past from the right, accompanied by its Lightning chase aircraft. Brannigan walked towards the barrier, quickly dodging around people to get a good vantage point.
On the far right end of the crowd line, Alex Swan stood with two armed guardsmen, scanning the crowd. Arthur Gable was situated behind the crowd, and stood looking at the back of their heads. He then gestured to a policeman to move forward and to his right, and they walked towards the crowd, with another two policemen on either side. Swan continued walking slowly along the crowd, as the guardsmen kept pace behind him.
The Texan had shuffled his way to the front and leaning on the barrier, looked across at the runway in front of him, then placed his hand in his inside jacket pocket and pulled out the camera. He looked around, then pulled up a small aerial on top of it.
Swan continued along the crowd line, taking in every face and sudden movement from the spectators. He checked his watch. It was 2:55 pm.
Inside the Rapier’s pilot cockpit, Kershaw checked his air speed indicator. Through the windshield he noticed the shape of Windsor Castle a few miles ahead of him. He knew that without the radio, he would not be able to check with Farnborough Control, whether or not he was clear for his run in over the display line. ‘Pilot to Navigator, what do you think Sandy? Shall we go for it?’
Ludlow nodded into his oxygen mask. ‘I think we should, Skip. My radar screen shows a clear sky ahead over Farnborough, so I guess they are ready for us. I’ll plot in co-ordinates for RAF Odiham, which is just a bit further down on the right. Once we’ve done the fly-by, we can land there and hand her over to the tech chaps to fix the radio.’
‘Right-O Sandy, I’m with you. We’re going in now.’ Kershaw pulled the control column to the right and sank his left foot on the rudder pedal. Responding instantly to this maneuver, the sleek delta winged silver aircraft banked to the right. Then, as Kershaw brought the control column back to centre, the aircraft was in line for the run in over Farnborough. Ahead, he could easily see the runway lights in his Head-Up Display, and made a mental note of the distance.
Brannigan stood in the crowd next to a group of Japanese businessmen. They spoke excitedly to each other and jostled the American. One of the men turned around, looked at him, and, realising that he had offended this man, bowed his head to apologise for colliding with him. As the man bowed, Swan noticed the gesture and as the man’s upper body sank, he revealed to him an all too familiar face. Swan eyes widened. Brannigan looked down at the man and smiled, then looked over his head straight into the eyes of someone that he did not expect to see.
Swan dived under the barrier and jumped at the Texan, and the guardsmen ran up to them, drawing their FN 7.62 mm rifles from their shoulders. As Swan tussled with the broad shouldered Brannigan, the shocked Japanese businessmen dispersed around the two men as they pivoted in a heap on the ground, legs and arms flaying in all directions.
Swan tried to search Brannigan’s hands for something that resembled a remote control box, and two women spectators gasped in horror as the two guardsmen suddenly placed the muzzles of their rifles on the Americans head. ‘Halt, British Army!’ They stood with their guns poised, ready to shoot him.
Brannigan turned his head and, viewing the barrels, ceased his scuffle with his assailant and raised his hands.
Swan got himself up from the floor and stood in front of him. ‘Give it up Jake, give me the box!’
Brannigan looked at the two guards, then stared at Swan’s outstretched hand.
‘I don’t have a box. What is this all about, Mr Swan? I came here to look at this fantastic aircraft and take some pictures with my camera. Brannigan held it up to show everyone, and the guards relaxed their weapons and allowed Brannigan to get back on his feet.
Swan was slightly confused, then noticed the way Brannigan held the camera. He looked at his fingers and saw that one was over a button, and there were also three small lights that did not need to be there. Swan’s eyes lit up as he realised that it was not for taking pictures. ‘Get the camera!’ Swan shouted, trying to grab at it.
Brannigan turned and ran into the crowd and Swan gave chase, followed by the guards. The American moved fast through the sea of spectators eagerly waiting the impending arrival of the Rapier. At twenty feet away, Swan shouted to him. ‘Jake, stop! You don’t understand.’
Brannigan halted and turned. He could see Swan over a sea of heads. ‘No way, Alex! This baby is going down,’ he shouted.
Swan suddenly changed the state. ‘Why Jake?’ Why must you do this?’
At this point, Gable had seen the commotion within the section of the crowd and hurried over, followed by three policemen.
Then, seeing Brannigan, he drew his revolver.
Swan put his hand up. ‘Wait, Arthur!’
Gable froze as Swan turned again to the Texan. ‘Why, Jake?’
Brannigan sneered. ‘Your country has to take the FB-X Alex. I gotta see this through. You killed Maitland, I owe him.’
‘You owe him nothing. Maitland conned you, Jake.
Brannigan looked puzzled. ‘What do ya mean?’
‘Maitland has used you. He wasn’t doing this for the CIA. The American government would never condone an act like this.’
‘What are you talking about?’ Brannigan demanded.
‘Maitland was a terrorist, he was a member of a faction called The Eagle’s Lance. He has used his power in the CIA to do this.’
Above them, a speaker cracked into life again. ‘ And now, coming in from your right, is Britain’s latest strike aircraft. Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you the BR-101 Rapier.’
Brannigan began to panic. He looked down at the camera.
Swan stepped forward. ‘Touch that button and you’re dead, Jake!’ Brannigan, looked at the men surrounding him. He knew he would die if he moved.
The roar of the two jet engines began to fill the air as the aircraft began to appear from the right side of the airfield, the crowd all turning their heads to get a glimpse.
The space around the men had increased. People witnessing the conflict had ran away in fear.