Wings of Death

by David Holman

  Ambrose looked at the object, noticing the scorch marks and the melted plastic.

  ‘Bloody hell. I may be wrong, but I think this is part of a detonator. Where did it come from?’

  ‘Harry said it came from the bike that the outrider was riding, when the tyres burst on the BR-101 trailer going to Pembridge.’

  ‘Christ Sarge, look here. These wires would lead to the explosive, that’s why it is only scorched at one end. The blast was probably small, but enough to rip through the tyres. This thing is really similar to the stuff we used to deal with in Borneo with the CTs, when they booby trapped their jungle hideouts.’

  Do you think the bloody trailer could’ve been sabotaged?’

  Ambrose nodded. ‘If a small explosion went off in the right place, it would almost definitely have caused the trailer to go over.’

  ‘Blimey,’ exclaimed an astonished Hamble. ‘This is serious stuff, Charlie. I better take it and report this. God only knows what kind of a hornet’s nest we’ve just stirred up.’

  *

  In the deep Buckinghamshire countryside, up on a hill, the sandstone structures of Stowe School reflected the sun, lighting it up like a beacon. To the left of the main building two of the rugby pitches were occupied. On one field, the young, striped- shirted male players ran around the pitch, and the elliptically shaped ball rose occasionally into the air, only to be caught and carried or passed by a player.

  David Barnett stood under the tall, H-shaped goal posts. He had been placed in a defensive position, something that he always dreaded during a match, as he would be solely responsible should the opposition breakthrough the midfield and attack for the try line.

  In the school reception, Matron Sandra Weston acknowledged the two men standing at the desk. ‘Good morning, gentlemen. May I be of some assistance?’

  One of the men smiled at the Matron and replied with an American accent. ‘Good morning, mam. I was wondering if you would be able to contact a pupil here at your school. David Barnett is his name.’

  The Matron gave the two men a puzzled look. ‘May I ask what this is about, gentlemen? As school policy, we don’t normally give out information on our pupils.’

  One of the men sighed. ‘Oh, that’s okay mam. We’re friends of his father, and we have some news for him.’

  The Matron paused. ‘If you give me the message, I will see that it gets to him. I believe he is in games lessons at the moment, so I will see him at lunchtime. What is the message?’

  The men gave a defeated look to each other. Then one of them spoke to the woman. ‘Well, please let him know that his father is nearby and hopes to get an opportunity to see him today.’

  The Matron suddenly began to feel that something did not seem quite right with these two. The look that the men had given each other had now cemented that suspicious doubt in her mind. ‘Very well, Gentlemen, I will let him know. Thank you for your visit.’

  ‘Thank you, mam.’

  The Matron closely watched the men walk down the hall and out the entrance, then stared at the vacant doorway for a few seconds before sitting back down at her desk. Outside, the two men walked towards a black Ford Zephyr saloon, one of them stopping to light a cigarette. ‘Stuck up bitch!’

  As they walked towards their car, they could hear some shouting to the left of the building. They looked over, scrutinising the spectacle of the rugby game. ‘Say, you don’t suppose he’s playing in that match, do ya Joe?’

  The bigger man nodded. ‘Maybe. But we wouldn’t know, as Maitland never gave us any photo or anything.’

  Defeated in their task, the two men climbed into the car and drove out of the school’s main gates.

  Waiting to see the outcome of a penalty kick awarded to his team, David Barnett looked across at the hedge and watched as a black car passed down the lane, beside the playing fields.

  Chapter 11

  Swan and Gable exited the canteen and walked across to the assembly hangar. ‘This is going to be interesting,’ commented Gable. They entered the hangar, walking past the assembly jigs supporting the half built Rapier production airframes.

  Swan then noticed the service pit where James McGregor had been found, and stopped to examine the area more closely. Spying the faint bloodstain on the floor, he pointed it out to his colleague.

  ‘McGregor fell from here. Yet, according to the inquest report, his head somehow got underneath the support brace here, and hit the floor. It doesn’t make sense, does it Arthur?’

  Gable nodded his head in agreement and they walked to the back of the hangar, where a row of offices were located. They then arrived at the small end office which had been nicknamed The Pentagram.

  Frank Maitland came to the door and opened it for the two men. ‘Gentlemen, please come on in. I have some fresh coffee on the go. Name’s Frank Maitland, Head of Operations for the GK Systems Python Hawk project. This here is my deputy, ‘Jake Brannigan.’ Brannigan remained seated, raising a hand to greet the two men. ‘Howdy,’ he said in his native Texan drawl.

  Maitland gestured to two chairs that had been arranged by his desk. ‘Feel free to ask anything you want that will help in your evaluation Mr Swan, Mr Gable. I’m totally at your service.’

  Swan nodded, smiling. ‘Thank you, Mr Maitland. Your co-operation in this inspection will be most appreciated, and hopefully make my job easier.’

  ‘Please, call me Frank. We don’t much go for formalities round here, do we Jake?’

  Brannigan nodded with a smile while scribbling on a form. Swan continued. ‘Thank you Frank,. I’m Alex, and this is Arthur. I will need to ask you a few questions, which I understand may be too classified to answer. I’m aware that the Python Hawk is very much on the secret list, so will appreciate any information that will help me complete my report.’

  Maitland nodded. ‘Fire away Alex, I’m your man.’

  Swan suddenly felt he was being psychoanalysed by the American, and decided to exercise a counter move. ‘So how are things going with the Python Hawk system?’

  ‘Oh, I guess we’re on schedule. You probably saw that the equipment has already been fitted to the Rapier, and we hope to be able to do the flight trials next week. There’s a little adjustment to the pod’s camera guidance system that we are working on, but that all should be done by this weekend.’

  Swan recorded a few notes on his clipboard. ‘How many personnel do you have here with you?’

  ‘Well, excluding the two US Ranger guards, we have eight technicians and four office staff, then myself and Jake here.’

  Swan wrote some more notes. ‘Tell me Frank, what will happen once the Python Hawk has finished being testing here?’

  ‘I guess our job will be done and we will go back to the States for a nice long vacation before our next assignment. I’m personally looking forward to getting in some fishing and riding back home in Kentucky.’

  Swan smiled. ‘Have you been fishing since you’ve been here? The lakes are excellent and full of trout this time of year.’

  Maitland shook his head. ‘Nope, I haven’t been able to get out much here. This project is crucial to our ongoing spying game with the Russkies, and if we can deploy it within the next few months, our Government will all be happy.

  ‘I understand that the system is to be used on the FB-X.’

  ‘That’s right, but seeing that the airplane isn’t ready for weapons trials yet, our Government asked yours if we could use the Rapier for initial trials, even though it will be carrying the Blue Eye system.’

  ‘What is the maximum all up weight of the Python Hawk?’

  Maitland shrugged. ‘Sorry pal, that one is classified. Ask me another.’

  Swan looked down at his clipboard. ‘GK Systems. Can you tell me more about your company?’

  ‘Well, we’ve won loads of new weapons contracts for the US, and of course, we’ve built the FBX and the Python Hawk system. We’re also working on a little fighter and attack aircraft, which we think will be a real winner. We’ve g
ot a lotta advanced orders for it already, especially from European countries that are part of NATO, looking to replace their old stuff that their still flying. Hell, where’s my manners. How about that coffee, fellas?’

  Swan nodded in appreciation and looked at Gable, who also noted the sudden change of subject. He studied Maitland as he went over and mumbled something to his number two that Swan couldn’t quite make out. Maitland returned to the desk with the coffee cups.

  ‘So, you two gentlemen do not work for GK then, I take it?’

  ‘No, Alex. We’re here in more of a US Air Forces in Europe capacity.’

  Maitland looked at the men. ‘So what about you guys? How you finding things at Brinton’s?’

  Swan relaxed, taking a sip of coffee. ‘Actually, it seems to be a well organised outfit, with what I feel has a good man at the head of the team.’

  ‘I guess you’re talking about Howard? Yeah, he’s a nice guy, and I admire his attention to detail. It’s pretty damn thorough. We’ve had a few scraps over the Python Hawk, but he’s a reasonable guy, and we eventually worked things out.’

  Maitland glanced at both men. ‘Any more questions, guys?’

  Swan decided that he had gone deep enough. He put down his clipboard. ‘Actually Frank, that just about wraps it up with the evaluation of the Python Hawk. The system hasn’t been tested yet, so I won’t be able to tick all of my boxes today.’

  ‘Have you been to the UK before this assignment Frank?’ asked Gable.

  ‘I was here during the deployment of one of our bases about six years ago. I was second in a team overseeing the movement of personnel. I kinda like ol’ England. Only wish I could get out and explore this beautiful country. Maybe go fishing in the lakes, like you mentioned, Alex.’ He picked up a pen as he leant back in his chair. ‘So, what about you Alex? How long have you been doing your job?’

  ‘I’ve been an evaluation inspector for three years. Before that, I worked as an analyst in the Ministry of Supply and during the war, I was in the Army. Royal Signals Corps.’

  Maitland interrupted him. ‘Interesting work in Signals, Alex?’

  ‘It had its moments, but generally it was all done from a desk in Whitehall decoding communications from the Germans and the Japs that came from the chaps at Station X. I was also out in the field. Mainly at one of our outposts in Kent.’

  Maitland nodded in appreciation. ‘I was still in college during the war. My brothers saw action though in Anzio, then at the fall of Berlin. I lost my eldest brother when he was accidently killed by a trigger happy Red Army soldier, outside the Reichstag. Nearly caused an international incident. But I guess he shouldn’t have been fooling around wearing that SS helmet at that particular time.’

  Swan decided to take advantage of the American’s relaxed state of mind. ‘I hear your set up here is pretty secure.’

  ‘Yeah, we’re as secure as a preacher’s collection box on a Sunday. Ain’t that right, Jake?’

  The Texan nodded in agreement.

  Swan nodded. ‘So, we can rest assured that no one can penetrate this area and get their hands on the Python Hawk?’ Swan added.

  ‘No way, buster. Will Hart, our resident US Ranger, will cut anyone down with his M-14 should they try and enter the area without authority.’

  Gable confirmed with the American. ‘That’s assured then, Frank?’

  ‘Guaranteed, Arthur,’ confirmed Maitland.

  Gable gestured outside the office. ‘That nasty business of the accident outside. Were you two gentlemen around then?’

  ‘I was having dinner in the canteen with one of my technicians and Jake was downstairs overseeing the fitting of the cameras into the Python Hawk. I spoke to the kid, James, a few times. He was a nice guy, always speaking about his fiancé when we had coffee together in the canteen. What she must be feeling right now, the poor missy. At least they’ve fixed that loose bar on the jig now.’

  Swan rose from his chair. ‘Yes, which should lay any spectre of doubt to rest with the other workers, shouldn’t it Frank?’

  Swan suddenly noticed a surprised look in the American’s eyes, followed by a slight pause of silence between the two men.

  ‘I guess they’ll be pleased to know they’re safe,’ answered the American, hesitantly.

  Swan nodded. ‘Well, we better take our leave and go and write up this report. Thank you so much for your time Frank, Jake. It’s been a pleasure to meet you both.’

  ‘Thanks, Alex, Arthur. I hope I’ve been helpful enough. Anything else I can do while you’re here, just let me know.’

  The men shook hands and as Swan looked down, noticed the motif on Maitland’s ring. He smiled at the American and followed Gable out of the office. Behind the door the two Americans conferred. ‘Well, are they a couple of Limey spooks?’ Brannigan enquired.

  ‘They’re certainly something, Jake.’ He turned to the door. ‘But they sure ain’t Ministry inspectors, you can be sure of that, buddy.’

  Brannigan agreed. ‘So whadda we do? Did ya hear what he said about spectre of doubt? Do ya think he was testing your reaction? What do you reckon he knows already?’

  Maitland smiled. ‘Relax pal, they go back to London tomorrow, so we carry on. We gotta get the Spectres operational. Let’s focus on that. But your back up plan of seeing that the Rapier doesn’t see service is beginning to appeal to me, and I also somehow feel that we haven’t seen the last of this Mr Alex Swan. I’ll make a few calls, see if the guys sitting in their neat new building at Langley can help in finding out who this guy really is.’

  Swan and Gable were about to leave for their hotel when an eager looking office junior intercepted them in the reception lobby. ‘Mr Swan, so pleased I haven’t missed you. I have a telegram for you, sir.’ The young man placed the sealed brown enveloped marked Strictly Confidential in the palm of Swan’s hand.

  With a puzzled look on his face, Swan tore open the telegram and read the contents to himself.

  ALEX - STOP - RAF TECHNICIAN HAS CONFIRMED TRANSPORTER FOR SECOND BR-101 DID NOT HAVE ACCIDENT - STOP.- SMALL EXPLOSIVE DEVICE WAS USED TO SABOTAGE TRAILER- STOP – BIG FLAP NOW ON AT MINISTRY- STOP – FIVE ALSO ON THE CASE – DISPATCHING AGENTS TO BRINTONS TOMORROW AND HAVE ALSO TAKEN POSSESSION OF THE REMAINS OF DEVICE - STOP – REGARDS HAMMER – STOP

  Gable suddenly noticed a look of disbelief on his associate’s face. Swan handed him the telegram, and after reading it, Gable suddenly knew why. ‘Good God!’

  Swan took it back and stared at it again. ‘Looks like our suspicions are correct, Arthur. When HB finds out, he’s certainly not going to be too happy with the Yanks.’

  ‘What shall we do, sir?’

  Swan thought about this for a few moments. ‘If MI5 are sending agents, I will lay odds on that Stratton will be involved. He’ll recognise me straightaway, which could put us in a bit of a predicament, not to mention of course the trouble Higgins will be in if they investigate into how we got our passes. I think it may be best if we make ourselves scarce first thing tomorrow and catch an earlier train. We’ll let Five do their snooping around and then arrange a meet with HB afterwards. If the Americans are involved, then they will have their hands full convincing Five that they had no part in it.’

  Swan suddenly remembered something else. ‘One other thing, Maitland’s ring, did you notice it Arthur?’

  Gable shook his head.

  ‘Er ‘fraid not sir.’

  ‘It was an Eagle with a spear in its talons,’ answered Swan.

  ‘What does it mean?’ enquired Gable.

  ‘Not sure. I have seen it before somewhere, but I cannot seem to remember where it was.’

  Swan was suddenly bothered by the symbol and became agitated with not being able to remember.

  ‘I have a friend at Grosvenor Square, his name is Clinton Sanger, ex CIA, now in charge of the embassy’s archives. I think he may be able to help us.’

  He moved towards the door. ‘Come on Arthur, let’s not waste any more time here,
we’ll get back to the hotel and get the train back tonight.’

  *

  Howard Barnett turned off his office desk lamp, put away his trademark gold pencil and walked over to the coat stand. Removing his brown overall, he hung it on the hook, then exited his office and locked the door.

  In the reception area, Security Officer Bill Wright was on night time duty at the desk. Barnett smiled at him as he handed him the keys. ‘Anything good planned for the evening, sir?’ Wright asked the Chief Engineer.

  Barnett shrugged. ‘Not really, Bill. Mrs Barnett is at her WI meeting tonight, so I will take the dog for a quick walk on the heath and then come back and tuck into a heated up hot pot that she’s left for me, then I’m afraid I’ll be working on my report for the White Paper.’

  Wright nodded. ‘Then goodnight sir, and try not to work too hard,’ gestured the guard.

  ‘I’m afraid it looks like I will have to, if I want to save her from the axe of the new Government Bill.’

  Barnett walked outside to the car park and opened the door of his Austin A40. Sitting inside, he turned the ignition key, switched on the headlights and reversed out of his space and towards the main gate. Noticing the car the guard looked relaxed, casually lifting the barrier and waving to the Chief Designer.

  The Austin turned on to the main road into a dusky evening light. As he drove, Barnett looked at his watch, and noticing it was 7.00 pm, turned on his car radio and listened to the BBC news broadcast. As he drove, immersing himself in the bulletins emitting from his speaker, he didn’t take much notice of two headlights keeping a distance behind him as he headed towards Ellenborough. On arrival at his property he entered it between two concrete pillars, topped with leaping stone lions and stopped in front of a green painted garage door. He got out of the car and locked it, then walked across the path to the side door of the whitewashed walled house. He unlocked the door and went inside, where he was suddenly greeted with the two great paws of Jerry, his pet Springer Spaniel.

  As he closed the door to the outside, a light shone briefly on the exterior as a car slowly passed the house and continued up the hill. Barnett collected the mail that had been left on the shelf in the hall by his wife, and walked upstairs. Half way up, he was almost toppled by an excited Jerry.