Codename Angel (The Angel Chronicles Book 1)

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Codename Angel (The Angel Chronicles Book 1) Page 6

by Jason Chapman


  ‘What?’ Frederick asked taking another sip from his glass.

  ‘I know I’m stationed at Yeadon but I visit Church Fenton regularly and like to think I know most of the pilots.’

  ‘And?’ Frederick said.

  ‘The two over there in the corner are wearing pilot insignias but I have never seen them before.’

  ‘Perhaps they're test pilots up here to fly those new Hawker jets.’ Frederick took another sip.

  Fletcher shook his head. ‘I checked the personnel log this morning when we arrived to see if there were any new pilots on base, but there weren’t.’ He picked up his pint glass and stood up. ‘Come on let’s go and have a chat with our two pilots.’

  Reluctantly Frederick scooped up his glass and followed Fletcher over to where the two men were sat.

  ‘Hello chaps mind if we sit?’ The group captain boldly asked.

  One of the two men looked up at him. ‘No, please pull up a stool.’ He had jet black hair which was swept back and held into place with a large amount of hair gel. The other man had brown hair, styled in a crew cut fashion.

  Frederick and Fletcher sat down, and for several seconds no one spoke. ‘How long have you blokes been on the base?’ Fletcher asked.

  ‘We arrived yesterday.’ The black haired man said.

  ‘Really, are you flying those new Hawkers?’

  ‘Yeah.’ The officer replied.

  ‘How are you finding the Avon 103 engine?’ Fletcher asked as he took another swig from his pint.

  The black haired man looked to his colleague for support; clearly they were not expecting to be grilled on jet engine performance. ‘We haven’t had the chance to get in one yet, we make our first test flight tomorrow.’

  ‘I see.’ Fletcher pressed on. ‘Only I didn’t see your names on the log book this morning. It’s practice for new pilots on the base to sign in before they get access to any aircraft.’

  Again the two officers looked at each other. ‘We didn’t get time, I did mention it to your commanding officer this morning and he cleared it, we’ll probably sign in tomorrow.’ The man looked at his watch. ‘That reminds me we have to get an early night.’ The two men stood quickly and politely said their goodbyes before heading to the pub entrance.

  ‘What a load of bollocks.’ Fletcher stated as they walked out of the door. ‘They’re not air force.’

  ‘How can you tell?’ Frederick enquired.

  ‘Because one of them was smoking Marlboro cigarettes, most of the pilots on base smoke Woodbines.’

  ‘Hardly a reason to accuse them of anything Group Captain.’

  ‘Only the Yank pilots used to smoke Marlboro.’

  ‘But they sounded British.’

  ‘A little too British for my liking.’ Fletcher finished his pint glass and looked at the time. ‘We better get back to base, I’ll ask Fitzpatrick if he has met those two.’

  11:34pm

  Wing Commander Fitzpatrick shook his head. ‘I have no idea who those men were, and I have strict policy about signing into the base.’

  ‘My thoughts exactly sir, I know how you are at following protocol.’

  ‘Whoever they were, they’re not stationed at this base. You’re the only two people who have come back and forth this evening. I’ll have a couple of extra boys on the gate tonight, if anyone is sneaking about posing as RAF then we’ll bloody well nab them.’

  Frederick yawned looking at the clock on the wall. The two pints of beer he had at the pub acted as a sedative. ‘Well if you’ll excuse me gentlemen I’ll retire for the night, looks like this visit has been a no show.’

  ‘Yes good night Professor.’ Fitzpatrick replied.

  Chapter 13

  2:32am

  Friday 15th August 1952

  ‘Professor, Professor wake up.’ Group Captain Fletcher shook Frederick’s arm.

  Frederick opened his eyes, and for a few seconds felt disorientated before he realised he was still on the base. He looked bleary eyed at the Group Captain. ‘What’s the matter?’

  ‘Sir you need to accompany me up to the radar tower immediately.’

  Frederick got dressed quickly and followed Fletcher.

  Fitzpatrick was stood looking out of the window with a mike in his hand. ‘Roger that Hawker one, maintain your speed and let us know when you have a visual.’ He turned to face Frederick. ‘Radar picked up four objects heading for this position. Our tracking station at RAF Hull called it in first. We’ve scrambled four Hunters to intercept.’

  ‘Could they be other jets?’ Frederick suggested.

  Fitzpatrick shook his head. They fit the same profile of the objects we’ve encountered the last two nights.’

  ‘Base this is Hawker one over.’ A voice crackled over the loud speaker.

  ‘Go ahead Hawker one.’ Fitzpatrick responded.

  ‘We now have a visual.’ The radio crackled. ‘Four brightly coloured objects over.’

  ‘Is that all Hawker one?’

  ‘They’re disc shaped, moving extremely fast towards our position we’re altering our course over.’

  ‘Hawker one keep maintaining a visual but do not engage, repeat do not engage.’

  ‘Roger that base.’

  ‘Sir, given their speed the objects should be in visual range within two minutes.’ The radar operator called out.

  Fitzpatrick picked up a pair of binoculars and peered out of the control tower window. Medium height cloud lay on the horizon with breaks allowing a full moon to cast shadows across the base.

  ‘There!’ an excited Fletcher cried out pointing beyond the end of the runway. Four pin points of lights came into view evenly spaced out.

  ‘Group Captain Fletcher get a car.’ Fitzpatrick ordered.

  Less than five minutes later Frederick found himself in the back of a car heading for the end of the runway. Up ahead the perimeter fence could be seen in the moonlight. A jeep with four armed guards drove alongside the car. The four lights that Fletcher had spotted were no longer in sight. The car came to a stop a few hundred yards from the fence and all the men got out. The guards fanned out along the width of the runway. Fitzpatrick had his binoculars in hand and began scanning the flat horizon which stretched out beyond the air force base.

  Frederick suddenly became aware of static discharge which seemed to surround all the men. The hairs on the back of his neck stood to attention.

  One of the guards called out. ‘Look over there!’ He pointed towards the opposite end of the runway where four blue lights hung motionless in the air. All seven men stared in the direction of the lights. The objects suddenly shot up into the air crossing each other’s path, like some sort of areal ballet.

  Fitzpatrick adjusted the focus on his binoculars. ‘Bloody things are too fast for me to get a proper look.’

  The objects suddenly plummeted with ferocious speed as if they had heard Fitzpatrick and stopped instantaneously several feet off the ground.

  Frederick watched in astonishment as the lights slowly glided towards the group of men. His heart pounded on the wall of his chest as he tried to process the sight in front of him. He found himself thinking back to the meeting the week before about what Professor Wilks had suggested.

  One of the guards lifted his gun and aimed at one of the lights.

  ‘No!’ Frederick called out. ‘Lower your gun!’

  The guard glared at Frederick, then looked at Fitzpatrick who nodded.

  Frederick slowly walked toward the lights which had stopped moving. He stared at each light individually for several seconds and could see that they were glowing circular shaped objects perfectly round with no visible windows. Each object was approximately 25 to 30 foot across. As he got closer Frederick became aware of a humming sound. His knees wanted to buckle under him, and his heart raced harder as he studied the objects. He held up his hand and noted that the static discharge grew stronger the nearer he got to the objects.

  The sound of the Hawker Hunters could be heard in the distance
heading back to base. Frederick was about to touch the surface of one of the objects. Suddenly the UFOs accelerated vertically at ferocious speed quickly becoming pin pricks of lights indistinguishable amongst the stars in the night sky. Several seconds later the Hunter Jets screamed overhead. Frederick was still staring at the sky dumbfounded by what he had just witnessed. For a few minutes the men stayed on the runway looking for signs that the objects might reappear.

  Chapter 14

  Debriefing

  Whitehall – London – 3:20pm

  Monday 19th August 1952

  All committee members were called to the debriefing to look over the report that Frederick had hastily put together. After the incident involving the UFOs he had returned to the base with the other men, who each filled out a detailed report. All the witnesses including Fitzpatrick were shaken by what they had seen. Frederick took it upon himself to telephone Lord Chambers and despite the time of the morning Chambers listened with great interest. He instructed Frederick to stay another night. ‘Just in case our friends decide to put on another show.’ However the next evening nothing happened so Frederick returned home for a day before heading to London.

  ‘Astounding!’ Dr Alan Good commented. ‘We’re obviously dealing with something that goes way beyond what the Russians or Americans may be capable of. It’s such a shame you couldn’t have captured any of it on film.’

  ‘We would have needed flood lights to get anything on film, it was too dark, unless you count the area where the objects appeared.’

  ‘Sounds too good to be true.’ Admiral Berkshire remarked.

  Professor Richard Wilks looked across at him. ‘You doubt Professor Frederick’s eye witness account admiral?’

  ‘No, but I still refuse to buy into the notion that these objects may be from another planet. I’m sorry Professor but unless I see these things for myself then I’ll keep my feet firmly on the ground.’

  ‘You are entitled to your opinion Admiral.’ Frederick said, ‘But I would appreciate if you would keep an open mind on this. I have trouble believing what I saw, but I did see these things first hand.’ He took a deep breath recalling the scene in his head. ‘To witness something like that challenges the laws of physics. The way they moved, there was no displacement of air, this rewrites modern day aeronautical science.’

  ‘The question is what we do about this. These objects, whatever they may be are able to out manoeuvre our aircraft and are superior in speed.’ Norman Canning said. ‘We need to adopt some kind of strategy in dealing with these UFOs.’

  ‘I think all we can do for now is observe.’ Dr Arthur Lloyd stated.

  ‘Agreed!’ Sir Harold Bates said. ‘But next time if we get the opportunity to view these things close up we have to have some kind of electronic recording equipment.’

  ‘Tizard’s Flying Saucer Working Party has never encountered anything like this.’ Chambers said.

  ‘At least we have something to go on now.’ Ian Morgan said.

  ‘I want all of you to take these reports away with you and read over them, and then you must burn them.’ Morris Stanford instructed.

  ‘Burn them.’ Wilks queried. ‘Isn’t that a bit drastic.’

  ‘This government is still reeling from Burgess and Maclean last year, and MI6 believe there are still Soviet spies within the government. Until we are sure that there is no possibility of any sensitive information leaks we must make sure that any information is available to just members of this group. We will keep the original report which Professor Frederick has written which the Prime Minister will review. But under no circumstances must any copies exist. We now have evidence that these objects are not American or Russian which makes this above top secret. We’ll meet up again next month to discuss any new developments.’

  Chapter 15

  The Return of Edith Jones

  Ripley – North Yorkshire – 10:26am

  Monday 1st September 1952

  Michael Smith slammed on the brakes with such force he thought his foot was going to go through the floor of his lorry. The figure in the road seemed to appear out of nowhere. Applying the handbrake the local Farmer jumped down from his cab and briskly walked to the front of his lorry. ‘Are you bloody stupid or what?’ He bellowed. ‘I could have killed you!’ The woman had her back to him and didn’t respond. Smith walked around to face her. ‘Did you hear me you stupid..’ Smith stopped dead in his tracks and stared at the young woman who was glaring down at her stomach cradling it. Her blonde hair sprayed outwards and down over her face. There was blood running from her nose, and her clothes hung loose around her. Smith put his hand on her shoulder. ‘Are you okay?’ the woman slowly looked up, Smith stepped back. ‘Bloody hell, Edith!’

  Whitehall – London – 11:06am

  Wednesday 3rd September 1952

  ‘You know this is a complete waste of time.’ Frederick protested. ‘We’ve already been to this woman’s house. It’s clear she just buggered off and left her husband, now she just turns up out of the blue. It’s a waste of resources, we are better off discovering the true nature of the objects I encountered at Church Fenton a few weeks ago, not traipsing all the way up to Ripley to sort out a domestic tiff.’

  ‘I know it seems like a waste of time old boy. But humour me will you. We have to keep all lines of investigation open.’ Chambers coughed, and rubbed his chest.

  ‘Are you ok?’

  Chambers continued to cough nodding. ‘Yes just a bit tired that’s all, probably all these bloody pills I’m taking to keep the ticker going.’

  ‘Well try not to overdo things.’ Frederick advised.

  Chapter 16

  RAF Yeadon – 6:25pm

  Friday 5th September 1952

  The familiar smiling face of Group Captain Fletcher was there to greet Frederick as he stepped off the plane. Frederick had telephoned committee member Dr Arthur Lloyd and requested that he came along to examine Mrs Jones. Dr Lloyd was a renowned psychologist and former physician to his majesty King George VI.

  ‘If anyone will be able to see that this is a waste of time Arthur it’s you.’ Frederick said.

  ‘I’ll try my best, but I’m on your side Ralph, this story seems too incredible to be true.’

  When they arrived at Ripley all three men checked in to the hotel and met up in the bar an hour later before setting out to the Jones’ house. As they approached the front door all three men noticed a police constable standing outside.

  The constable saw them coming and approached. ‘Can I help you gentlemen?’

  ‘We’re here to see Mrs Edith Jones.’ Frederick said.

  ‘Really and who might you be?’ The constable was now blocking their path, standing firm with his arms folded.

  ‘I’m Professor Ralph Frederick, this is Dr Arthur Lloyd and Group Captain Walter Fletcher we were here a few weeks ago interviewing her husband.’

  ‘Well Professor you will appreciate that Mrs Jones needs her rest and won’t be seeing anyone for the time being.’

  ‘That’s not what you told me yesterday.’ Fletcher spoke up. ‘You said that we could interview her.’

  ‘That was yesterday wasn’t it sir, I’m afraid things have changed since then.’

  ‘In what way?’ Dr Arthur Lloyd asked.

  The constable was about to reply when the front door to the Jones’ house opened. Sir William Ingles and two other men appeared. ‘Well well, Professor Frederick how nice to see you again.’ Ingles greeted in a cheerful manner. ‘And I see you’ve brought reinforcements.’ He stretched out his hand towards Dr Lloyd. ‘William Ingles at your service sir.’

  ‘Pleasure Sir William.’ He replied, before making eye contact with the man behind. ‘Peter, what brings you up here?’

  ‘He is a guest of mine.’ Ingles answered quickly before his friend had time to answer.

  Peter Horsley remained silent; the third man turned out to be the local doctor who hurried past Frederick and the others. ‘If you don’t mind Sir William we wou
ld like to speak to Mrs Jones.’ Frederick said politely.

  ‘I’m afraid that won’t be possible Professor, Mrs Jones is resting and won’t be seeing anyone for a while.’ Ingles explained.

  ‘But she has spoken to you and Mr Horsley?’ Lloyd commented.

  ‘Mr Jones has requested that they be left alone, which includes everyone.’

  ‘When will we be allowed to speak with her?’ Frederick asked.

  ‘I’m afraid you didn’t hear me correctly Professor, Mrs Jones isn’t speaking to anyone. Now I suggest you head back to London, there’s a good fellow.’

  ‘As former royal physician Sir William I am requesting that I be allowed to examine Mrs Jones to assess her condition.’

  Horsley and Ingles looked at each other. ‘As you say former royal physician Doctor Lloyd, which means you have no jurisdiction here. Besides our own doctor has examined her thoroughly, now if you’ll excuse us gentlemen.’ Ingles and Horsley brushed passed the three men. The police constable had resumed his position outside the front door of the house, and glared at the group menacingly.

  Chapter 17

  6:56pm

  ‘I don’t believe the nerve of that man?’ Lloyd protested sipping at a glass of whiskey. All three had walked back to the hotel and sat in the bar considering their next move. ‘And Peter didn’t even acknowledge us what was all that about.’

  ‘Peter Horsley has been up this way before. I suspect Ingles has direct contact with Buckingham Palace.’ Frederick summarised. ‘For what it’s worth we need to speak with Mrs Jones to find out what happened to her, just to end this ridiculous line of investigation.’

  A young man who was stood at the bar staring at the group in the corner walked over to them, and pulled up a stool. ‘Sorry to bother you blokes but are you up here about Edith Jones.’

 

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