The Final Flight James Blatch (e book reading free .TXT) 📖

Guiding Light aircraft was the security implication. They would leave the equipment alone in the Canberra, including a full reel of data that could easily be accessed.

If something went wrong, there would be an enquiry to end all enquiries. Why was the Canberra used for such a journey? Who allowed the equipment change?

His name would be the answer to all the questions.

More than that, he was genuinely risking the secrecy of the project.

Rob appeared next to him.

He shut the Canberra up and cursed the lack of key and lock.

As they walked across the apron toward the factory offices, he realised it was a gaping hole that no-one had much thought about. It was all very well searching cars on the way in and out of West Porton, but nothing stopped them flying out with all manner of sensitive material. In fact, it was part of their routine.

No-one checked, no-one asked, no-one searched.

Inside the factory, they were given a quick tour of the Lightning production line. At the back of the cavernous hall, a section had been screened off by enormous black hanging material. Poking out of one end was the distinctive tail of an Avro Vulcan.

Millie pointed. “Are you already fitting it?”

The man nodded.

The Vulcan was literally shrouded in secrecy.

A man in a suit and tie showed them to a makeshift security barrier. Millie and Rob signed in, and moments later, they were inside the aircraft inspecting the installation work.

It didn’t take long to confirm the panels would be identical to those they were already familiar with, and they headed back to the management offices and signed a few forms to say the work was proceeding as agreed.

They decided on a delivery date, and, twenty-five minutes later, walked out onto the apron.

The Canberra sat alone, and unregarded.

“I do enjoy a little day trip with our own private jet,” said Rob.

Millie laughed. “We should take days out more often. Perhaps not Manchester, though.”

“I’m sure we could find a reason to go to Cyprus.” Rob disappeared around the Canberra to kick the tyres.

Millie dressed for the journey back, reassured by the weight of the reel in his coveralls pocket. Before he donned his life jacket, he slipped in the next blank tape.

Rob’s hands moved across the Canberra’s controls. He soon had them rolling down the long runway, then gently banking right as they climbed out.

He continued to fly them west to the Irish Sea, before turning south, heading for Wales.

It was a cloudless afternoon and Rob was clearly enjoying himself.

Millie’s thoughts turned to the pressing issue of how to remove the growing number of tapes from highly secure West Porton.

There was no point in continuing to gather the height readings on a growing collection of tapes if he couldn’t get them out of a locker inside the base.

Could he hide them in his car? Under the mats in the footwells? Inside the spare tyre?

Even then, how would he move them from his locker to the car park without risking everything?

He sighed and rested his head on the top of the ejection seat.

The roar of air across the airframe washed over him, and he closed his eyes.

Back in TFU, most of the men were in the mess or on their way home.

Millie was mildly embarrassed that Rob had to wake him up in the jet. He moved straight to his locker and added two more reels to his pile.

Rob breezed past, coveralls in hand with his helmet, oxygen mask and life jacket ready for a quick deposit.

Millie gathered his own things and walked toward the door.

“Milford. A word if you please.”

Millie walked into Kilton’s office and closed the door behind him.

“I’m adding Jock MacLeish and Red Brunson to the Guiding Light crew,” said Kilton. “We need to speed this up.”

“Why? We’re working well together and it’s a small team. You said yourself you didn’t want to involve anyone else.”

Kilton snorted. “I’m not asking for your opinion, Millie. Just make sure they’re trained up as quickly as possible.”

Millie stood, trying to think of a better objection.

“Goodbye, Millie.” Kilton dismissed him with a wave of his hand, as if he was a schoolboy in the headmaster’s office.

8

Tuesday 14th June

A flash of red streaked across the junction ahead. Millie recognised Rob’s Austin Healey, with the top down. He was also heading in early.

By the time Millie had negotiated the vehicle search and arrived at the tea bar, Rob was in animated conversation with Red Brunson.

Millie took his mug to his desk and sat down by himself.

An admin corporal arrived next to him and handed him a document.

As usual, it was marked TOP SECRET. Inside the front page was a reorganised Guiding Light trials schedule. By the following week, when the second Vulcan was in service, they would double the hours flown.

He tried to do the maths in his head, working out how little time he had left. Once TFU signed the project off, it would swing into production and quickly roll out to the waiting aircraft, both here and in the US.

And buried deep within the circuits, a mistake. A calculation that came out wrong, or maybe just a fluctuating current between tiny electronic components that should be steady. Either way, something had sent a four engine bomber plunging to the ground and no-one except him seemed to care why.

“Heard the news.”

He looked up to see Rob smiling at him.

“Hmm?”

“Red and Jock are joining us.”

“Yes, I heard. Is that exciting to you?”

Rob grabbed a chair and sat down alongside Millie’s desk.

“Come on, Millie. Of course it is. I’ve been dying to share this with Red. Just think, we’ll be flying with someone who rubs shoulders with the men selected to walk on the Moon.”

“Just because he wears that fancy helmet doesn’t make him an astronaut.” Rob grimaced. “I’m sorry, Rob. Of course it’s exciting, especially for you. Keep close to Red. He’s a good man. And he likes you.”

“You think?”

“I do. For the same reason I like you. You’re very likeable.”

“Don’t make me