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

let’s get this over with.” Kilton stood up. The group trudged through the garden toward a pair of Land Rovers with blue lights on top.

The journey took fifteen slow minutes as they inched up the rocky path toward the site.

Kilton got his first view of the downed Vulcan as they rounded a small rise. The blackened remains were scattered in an elongated triangle pattern. The heavier parts had continued higher up the hill, but the main fuselage seemed to be largely intact in the centre of the debris field.

They left the vehicles a hundred yards short of the first piece of aircraft. A squadron leader with an engineering badge on his camouflage fatigues greeted them.

“Good morning. As you can see the site is barely accessible. We can’t get the low-loaders anywhere close, so recovery is going to take a while, I’m afraid. We’ve already recovered Squadron Leader Johnson’s body and ejection seat, but they were way down the hill. Our priority now is the bodies in the fuselage, but it’s not straightforward.”

“You have a new priority for now, Squadron Leader,” said Kilton. “We need to remove certain items from the aircraft this morning.” He looked beyond the engineer to the wisps of smoke from the wreckage.

“The base of the wreck is still hot. I can’t send my men in I’m afraid. Also, sir, with respect, I think we should remove the men before we move other parts of the wreckage. It’s a matter of dignity.”

“And this is a matter of national security. What’s the state of cockpit and rear bay?”

The engineer looked across at the group captain.

“It’s OK, Michael,” said McClair. “Mark here is overseeing an important project. They have instructed us to make it a priority.”

“I see. You’d better follow me, then.”

As they got closer to the wreck, Kilton stared into the twisted fragments. It took him a second to realise what he was seeing in the centre of the mess: human legs.

“Christ.”

“We don’t normally leave them in there this long,” said the engineer. “But we also want to extract bodies as completely as possible, while disturbing little for the investigators. And that takes time. Now, the cockpit panels are roughly together there.” He pointed toward the front section of the site. Rolled over on to one side was the back end of the nose section. Kilton could see where the canopy once was.

The group walked further around.

“Jesus!” the group captain said as they came across an outstretched arm.

“And the rear bay panels?” said Kilton.

“Indeed,” said the engineer. Just back from that arm, facing upward. I think that’s one set of panels. However, the others—”

“That’s them,” Kilton said. Despite the charred and blackened metals, he recognised the distinctive Guiding Light switches and dials.

“Well,” the engineer said, “they should be safe to access if they’re clear of the centre section.”

“Who will remove them?” McClair asked.

“We can have a go, as long as it’s a standard fit.”

The Blackton technician stepped forward.

“There’s nothing standard about it. I installed these panels at Warton using specialised torque retainers. They’re also on spring mechanisms to protect them in flight. I’ll need to remove the retaining assembly before anything else.”

The squadron leader looked across to the BOI chairman, who nodded.

Kilton watched carefully as the engineer led the technician, step by step, toward the remains of the rear bay.

When he arrived, just beyond the outstretched arm, he crouched down and began work on the fixings.

The men watched as he worked, carefully removing eight long bolts.

Kilton turned toward Stafford and made a small motioning movement with his head.

Stafford walked over to the group captain.

“Sir, you’re going to need some information about Guiding Light. Perhaps now’s the time for me to brief you?” He looked over his shoulder at the small group of engineers from the recovery team. “Perhaps over here?”

Stafford led him away from the wreckage and they stopped on the path fifty yards down the hill.

Kilton looked back to the technician; the squadron leader in charge of the recovery crew stood over him as he worked.

The young man released another of the bolts and handed it up to the officer, who looked across to his men and called out,

“We’ll need a stretcher to get this lot out.”

As the man spoke, the technician’s hands moved quickly over the panels before returning to the retaining bolts. After ten minutes, he announced he was done. “The panels will come out easily now.”

As he stepped past Millie’s arm, careful to tread only where he’d been told to, the young man looked up at Kilton and gave him the faintest of nods.

21

Monday 27th June

Rob dressed quietly that morning. Donning each item of uniform seemed like an effort. Each movement he made would lead him closer to TFU.

Mary kissed him on the lips at the door.

“I’ll go to Georgina’s. When do you think the funeral will be?”

Rob shook his head. “I don’t even know where Millie is. Or Brighty. They might still be on the side of the mountain.”

She smiled at her husband and brushed a tear from his cheek.

“Come on now, Rob. You’ll need to keep that inside today.”

The morning briefing began with Kilton addressing the aircrew at the tea bar.

“In the aftermath of Friday’s crash, it has been discovered that our most important and Top Secret project has been compromised. Precautions are now being taken to recover materials. An investigation is underway. If you see anything, hear anything, you are to report it. Withholding information could cause serious difficulties for you. As an additional precaution, I would like any contact with Millie’s family to be carried out through my office.”

Rob winced at the mention of his friend’s name. He looked around; his colleagues’ expressions didn’t change.

“There are logistical difficulties with the crash site which I visited yesterday. Unfortunately, extracting the remains is going to be a slow process, so the funerals will have to wait. Please be sensitive. No-one outside TFU needs to know these details. Refer any enquiries from relatives directly to me.”

Kilton paused.

“Friday was a