Swan stared Brannigan in the eyes. ‘This is mass murder Jake, and it will be all on you.’
Brannigan paused, the sound of the jet above him filling his ears. Then, almost in slow motion, he allowed the camera to drop onto the concrete and raised his hands.
The guards knocked him down and stood over him, pointing their rifles as the silver shape flew past, deafening them all. Swan and Gable looked up and followed its path with their eyes.
‘Thank God for that,’ muttered Gable, watching the plane as it climbed away from the crowd. He was relieved that no shots had been fired, and more crucially, that there had been no impending disaster. The Silver Angel moved up into the clouds, showing its afterburners alight with fire, the chase aircraft banking to the right. Then, in a few seconds, they were both gone, leaving only the diminishing roar of their engines that eventually faded with the wind.
A very relieved Alex Swan picked up the camera and watched as the guards got Brannigan to his feet and marched him along before them. He looked around at the crowd as they clapped and cheered at the disappearing sight of the aircraft. ‘Well Arthur, that’s that, it looks like the Silver Angel has won the hearts of the crowd.’
The guards took Brannigan under the crowd barrier and out of the gates to an awaiting Army Bedford truck, where he was cuffed by two policemen, then loaded into the back. Two soldiers climbed up after him to sit either side on the bench.
Fourteen minutes later, Kershaw stepped down from the cockpit ladder onto the tarmac of RAF Odiham and was greeted by a couple of technicians. ‘Bloody radio’s on the blink, chaps. See what you can do. I need a coffee,’ he said, abruptly turning to the direction of the mess building. His navigator, Sandy Ludlow caught up with him, and as they walked together exchanging thoughts on their eventful day, a young aircraftsman intercepted them. ‘Excuse me sirs? You are both wanted urgently for a debriefing. Please follow me.’
Forty minutes later, after being informed of the bomb aboard their aircraft, Kershaw and Ludlow exited the Odiham Briefing Room in a state of silent shock, and headed for the mess bar where they subsequently each ordered themselves a large Scotch.
Chapter 26
The next day Swan sat and looked across the desk of MI5’s Head of A Section John Stratton. ‘Did they manage to find it?’
Stratton leant back in his chair. ‘They found it all right, exactly right where you said it would be, inside the panel for the Python Hawk. I’m meeting with my American opposite number this afternoon. I bet even as we speak he is sweating over what he has to say to me.’
Swan raised a brow. ‘I doubt that very much, John. You and I know the Americans by now. They’ll just blame yet another rogue agent and move on regardless.’
There was a knock on the door and Alan Carter entered the office. Without saying a word, he handed Stratton a foolscap sized manila envelope with Top Secret stamped in red on the corner. Stratton opened the envelope and pulled out a document and Swan could see through the paper that it had a Ministry of Supply header at the top. Stratton read the contents, then pushed it over the desk to him. ‘Seeing as this was directed at your good self, you may as well read this and save me the job of calling you in for an official briefing.’
Curious, Swan picked up the document and read it, then after a few moments, handed it back to Stratton.
‘Well, there you have it Alex. This incident never happened. We are to carry on as normal and move on with our lives.’
‘Why?’ asked a puzzled Swan.
Stratton opened a drawer in his desk, placed the document into it then closed it again. ‘I think that this is far too sensitive at the moment for all parties concerned, don’t you? Best follow these orders from on high and forget about it.’
‘And what about the McGregor murder?’ replied Swan.
‘It looks like it will have to be just as the enquiry verdict concluded, an unfortunate accident,’ Stratton tried deliberately to avoid eye contact as Swan displayed his shameful mistrust.
Howard Barnett just stared into his tea as he sat opposite Henry Brinton in his office. An eerie silence had fallen between the two men, as if a great chasm had opened up to separate them.
Brinton looked worriedly at his chief designer. ‘Will you let the workers know Howard, I don’t think I am up to this. As a matter of fact, I wouldn’t have liked to even have faced the old man, if he was still with us, as I tried to explain this news to him’
Barnett put his mug on the desk. ‘I had a phone call this morning from Toulouse. The French have offered me a job. Funny thing is, they phoned before 11am and the time of the announcement in the House.’
‘Will you go?’ enquired Brinton.
‘Will I ‘eck!’ Barnett rose from his chair and walked over to the window. ‘No I think it’s time for me to jack it all in. School holidays are coming up and I thought it high time that I took Heidi and David on a nice long holiday. I think the business we got into with those dodgy Yanks has helped me make this decision.’
‘I’ve noticed that the Yanks are a bit busy today,’ remarked Brinton.
‘Transport plane from Stansfield is due in this afternoon to take them all out,’ he paused. ‘I suppose there’s little need to remain here, now the Silver Angel has had it.’ Barnet sighed. ‘Oh well, I best go and call a meeting and give all the workers the bad news.’
Barnett shook Brinton’s hand and walked out of his office. Henry Brinton just slumped back in his chair and placed his head in his hands.
Swan tuned the radio of his green Triumph TR-4, as he cruised past Hyde Park. It was noon and the BBC news was just commencing.
The announcer read out the headlines… ‘In the House of Commons this morning, the Defence Minister, The Right Honourable Sir Derek Yately, has announced the cancellation of the BR-101 Rapier combat aircraft. He explained that due to rising costs, resulting in the project being currently fifteen million pounds over the proposed budget, it was now too much of a deficit to the country’s economy and therefore has to be scrapped in favour of the cheaper American alternative, the GK FB-X. In addition to the only prototype to fly, all other prototypes and existing partly built production airframes and assembly jigs are to be destroyed and all advanced overseas orders for the aircraft are to be cancelled. The Rapier gave a short fly-past at the SBAC show yesterday to a good response from the Farnborough crowd.
The workforce at Brinton Aviation Ltd in Cumbria will be notified and with no other Government contracts in progress, it is likely that the plant will close with the possible loss of six hundred and fifty jobs. The company has been at the forefront of British aircraft design since the 1920s. In other news, pop group The Beatl….’
Swan turned off the radio and banged his hand on the steering wheel in anguish. He drove down Constitution Hill, around past Buckingham Palace into the Mall, then through Admiralty Arch and around Trafalgar Square down to Whitehall. He parked in Wellesley Mews and instead of entering the office, made the short walk around the block to the Air Ministry. A few minutes later, he sat across from the desk and looked sullenly at Higgins. It had all been in vain, the Americans had won.
Higgins could barely speak about it. ‘A black day for the industry, Alex. All those jobs at Brinton’s.’
‘So why the decision to destroy everything to do with the Silver Angel?’
‘Beats me if I know, Alex. I guess the Yanks insisted on it during the PM’s secret meeting with them. Most probably, they realise that our kite was always the better one after all and they want to ensure that it can never be re-produced. A bit like what happened with the Canadians a few years ago with their excellent Arrow. Still, at least some of the systems will be used on the new supersonic airliner and following our collaboration with the Frogs on this project, we are in negotiation to co-develop a new ground attack aircraft with them. Mind you, although quite a long way off, mind, we are looking at a plan for a multi role combat aircraft, which we may jointly produce with the Germans of all people, and maybe even the Italians for that matter, as they have also shown a keen interest. There’s even a few whispers around the ministry that we won’t even get the FB-X in the end. You see Alex, it needs a lot more work before it meets anywhere near the operational requirement and that is going to send the development costs through the roof. Probably end up with the BK- 98, the carrier-borne job that our senior service is about to receive. I can picture the old Admiral now rubbing his hands with a big, smug smile on his face.’