‘In the case of the Tempest sales to the Middle East, the government is just as keen that contracts are signed. The benefits from two billion pounds of Tempest orders will spread right through the British economy.’
Drew listened silently, his face set.
‘I’m sure you’d like to find some grand conspiracy to expose, Flight Lieutenant, reaching to the very heart of government, but life just isn’t like that. There are no knights in shining armour, though the popular press are doing their best to turn you into one. And there are no wicked wizards. The real world is composed of shades of grey. That’s the world I have to deal with and the world that you ought to start living in.’
‘Don’t patronise me,’ Drew said. ‘The fault on the Tempest has caused the deaths of three of my friends. They didn’t just fail to come back. Two of them died in front of me.’ He paused. ‘I’m not going to let it kill another one.’
Power rose to his feet. ‘I think this discussion has gone on long enough. Let me outline the choices available to you, Flight Lieutenant. Drop all this nonsense now. You’ll be given some home leave in recognition of the very real hardships you’ve endured and the very great courage that you’ve shown. On your return to duty, you’ll be decorated for gallantry and promoted. You’ll be a real hero, not just a tabloid newspaper tiger.’
Drew curled his lip. ‘And the alternative?’
‘The alternative is quite simple. You’ll go home to face charges arising from the loss of your aircraft over Cumbria last month. You’ll be court martialled and dishonourably discharged from the Air Force. You’ll have no career and no future.’
Drew looked from Power to Russell in disbelief. ‘And if I tell my story to the papers?’
‘You’ve no more solid information than you had the last time you tried. We could have court martialled you for that alone, but I’m not interested in giving the left-wing press a martyr to eulogise.’ Power’s look was contemptuous. ‘Try it again. We won’t even have to put a D-notice on it. Who’ll believe the uncorroborated ramblings of a disgraced pilot trying to blame his aircraft instead of his own incompetence?’
‘DJ corroborated my story.’
‘But regrettably I understand that he is now dead.’
Drew clenched his fists. ‘You’re bluffing. If you were really that confident of your position we wouldn’t be here.’
He watched as Power controlled his anger. ‘It’s a great shame, Flight Lieutenant. A country needs its heroes and you’ve got the right credentials. You could have been a great morale booster for your country and a fine ambassador for the Royal Air Force, but…’ He paused with his hand on the door handle. ‘I can give you until tomorrow morning to think it over.’
Drew shook his head. ‘There’s no point.’
‘Then you must accept the consequences, Flight Lieutenant Miller. Goodbye.’
The door banged shut behind them, leaving Drew alone in the room. Drew stared at it for a few moments, then got up. As he opened the door, he was confronted by two MPs.
‘Flight Lieutenant Miller, would you come with us please?’
‘Why?’
‘We have orders to escort you to your quarters, sir. You’re to be confined there until further notice.’
‘And if I refuse?’
‘I hope that you won’t, sir, but we will use force if necessary.’
Drew said nothing for a moment as he looked from one to the other. Then he shrugged and walked out.
Chapter Nineteen
Drew was sprawled on the bed with his hands behind his head, staring up at the ceiling, when he heard a tap on the door. Michelle came in, gave him a kiss on the cheek and then sat on the chair.
‘How did you get past the Gestapo?’ he asked.
‘I spoke to my father and persuaded him to lift the siege a little. It only works one way though: I can come in but you can’t come out.’
‘What’s he going to do with me?’
‘He says he doesn’t know yet. I tried to convince him that he couldn’t court martial a war hero but he just kept on about discipline overriding everything.’ She rested her chin on her hand. ‘What happened?’
‘Did your father mention we’d been having a little chat?’
‘I took that for granted. Was it the usual subject?’
He nodded. ‘The vital strategic interests of the UK and my role in helping to preserve them.’
She gave him a quizzical look. ‘And?’
‘And we agreed to differ.’ He paused. ‘He’s covering something up, Michelle.’
‘I don’t believe that.’
He swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat upright. ‘Then why has he got me in solitary?’
‘He says he’s only doing it to stop you getting yourself into even deeper shit.’
‘Oh come on, get real. He wants me out of the way so he can do a stitch-up.’ He got up and moved to the window. ‘You didn’t see what he was like earlier on. He’s no intention of allowing it to come out. I’d stake my life on it.’
Michelle walked over and held him as he stared out into the darkness. ‘I know him, Drew. He asked me to trust him. He’s never broken his word to me in my life.’
Drew did not turn to look at her. ‘The first chance I get, I’m going to blow the story.’
‘You haven’t even got a story,’ she snapped, exasperated. ‘You still don’t know what makes the Tempests crash.’
‘I know something does.’ He paused. ‘I’ve got two stories actually. Not only does an RAF Air Vice-Marshal insist on sending aircrew to their deaths in an aircraft he knows is unsafe, but he’s also hand in glove with the company that manufactures them. They stand to lose two billion pounds’ worth of Middle-Eastern business if this gets out.’
He felt Michelle stiffen. ‘You go to the papers with that story and you and I are finished.’
He turned as she stepped away from him. ‘Michelle… I know this is tough, but he’s compromised—’
‘He’s not up to anything. Of course he has links with Barnwold. He’s been with them on sales trips to the Middle East a few times. But it’s the government who sends him there, for God’s sake. It’s not something he particularly enjoys, but it’s his duty. If Barnwold can sell Tempests abroad, the cost to the RAF is less.’
‘And what’s his price?’
Michelle’s eyes blazed. ‘How dare you?’
‘I overheard him on the phone to the Barnwold chairman,’ Drew said. ‘He was discussing how to keep the lid on all this. Is that his duty to his country? A CONDOR report I sent him on the Tempest has disappeared into a black hole. He’s buried every hint that there might be something wrong—’
‘Let me tell you about my father,’ Michelle said. ‘He could have had his pick of top jobs in the defence industry at three or four times the salary, but he’s stayed with the Air Force. He’s one hundred per cent committed.’
Drew looked at her, overwhelmed by a sudden wave of sadness. ‘Jesus – he’s got you making his speeches for him, hasn’t he? Go on, now tell me how the deaths of a few Tempest crew are nothing compared to the security of the United Kingdom. Tell me how it’s his unenviable duty to suppress information on a fault that kills people – people like Nick Jackson, DJ Jeffries and Alastair Strang, his daughter’s own boyfriend?’
‘Go to hell.’ Michelle pushed past him. The door slammed shut and Drew was alone.
* * *
Drew had eaten his breakfast and was gazing out of the window when there was a knock at the door. A thin, prematurely grey army officer walked in. He moved the table into the middle of the room and sat down on the only chair, gesturing Drew to the bed. He opened his briefcase and pulled out a file.
‘I’m Captain James Noble. I’ve been assigned to your case.’
‘I’m Drew Miller and I’d prefer to choose my own lawyer.’
Noble gave a nervous smile. ‘That is your right, Drew – may I call you Drew? – but I’m afraid English-speaking lawyers familiar
with the intricacies of a British court martial are in rather short supply in this part of Italy.
‘I’ve flown in from Milan this morning in answer to a summons from your commanding officer and, as I’m returning to England shortly, I would be in a position to represent you at your court martial. If you still want a different lawyer when you get back, I’ll of course stand down. In the meantime, maybe I can help you.’
Drew’s expression did not soften.
‘I assure you,’ Noble added, ‘I shall defend you to the best of my abilities.’ He paused. ‘And, with all due modesty, I’m not a bad lawyer.’
‘And what are you defending me against?’
He consulted his file. ‘Serious charges, I’m afraid. Insubordination, dereliction of duty, conduct unbecoming an officer and incompetent handling of your aircraft. In short, they’re throwing the book at you.’ He glanced at Drew, then cleared his throat. ‘Perhaps the best thing would be for you to tell me how you intend to answer those charges.’
‘With a not guilty plea, of course,’ Drew said. ‘The truth is that there is a potentially fatal flaw in the Tempest aircraft. Rather than allow the true facts to be known, the Air Force establishment – and Air Vice-Marshal Power in particular – prefer to silence me by pressing these charges.’
Noble pursed his lips and carefully pressed the tips of his fingers together before speaking. ‘I’m afraid that attitude is likely to be most unhelpful before the court martial. Even if what you say is true, an audience of senior officers sitting in judgement is hardly the ideal forum to make serious allegations about one of their number.
‘It’s your decision, of course, but I’m bound to say that in my experience such an attitude usually leads to a heavier sentence. Unless you’re intent on denying the charges – and you can only do that by contradicting the sworn statements of several senior officers – I would suggest that a guilty plea and a statement in mitigation will be far less painful all round.’
Drew set his jaw.‘I don’t intend to take this lying down and they can’t impose a heavier sentence than a dishonourable discharge from the Air Force, which they’re likely to do anyway, whatever I say.’
‘I’m afraid they can impose a far heavier sentence than that,’ Noble said. ‘They can – and almost certainly will – give you a dishonourable discharge, but, before that takes effect, they have the power to imprison you for up to ten years.’
Drew felt the blood drain from his face but said nothing.
‘I’ll leave you to think things over for a while,’ Noble said, getting to his feet. ‘I’ll be back to see you in the next couple of days. Think things over very carefully, but in my opinion you really do have only one course of action.’
* * *
For the next three days Drew stayed confined to his room, his repeated requests to use a phone refused by the impassive MPs. His only visitor was Noble, who called in early on the Thursday evening. He had no fresh information to give and his advice was no more welcome to Drew for a second hearing.
After the lawyer had left, Drew lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling and replaying every second of the two crashes in his mind. He was still lying there two hours later, when there was another knock on the door.
After a moment Michelle appeared. She was pale and hollow-eyed.
He scrambled to his feet as she closed the door, but then both stood in an awkward silence. ‘I’m glad you came,’ Drew began. ‘I thought…’
‘I thought so too.’
There was another long pause.
‘What’s the matter? You look like you’ve been crying.’
‘… I came to apologise.’
‘No,’ Drew said. ‘I’m the one—’
She held up a hand. ‘My father took me out to dinner tonight. He had some important news he wanted to tell me.’ A brief, bitter smile flashed across her face. ‘Do you know what the news was?’ Drew guessed, but shook his head. ‘He’s leaving the Air Force to take up a post in industry as an air defence consultant. Guess where.’
Drew nodded slowly. ‘Barnwold.’ He reached out to wipe a tear from her cheek.
She gazed at the floor. ‘He actually claimed to be surprised that I was shocked. I walked out and left him there.’ Her eyes began to fill with tears.
Drew put his arms round her and held her to him as she continued to sob, her tears wet on his chest. He wrapped his arms even tighter around her, murmuring gently to her and kissing her face, tasting the salt tears on his lips.
After a few minutes, she straightened up, kissed him once, cupping his face in her hands, then went to the basin and rinsed her face in cold water.
She turned to face him, embarrassed. ‘I must look like the helicopter pilot from hell.’
Drew shook his head.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said, still holding his gaze. ‘I’ve been so wrapped up in all this, I haven’t even asked. What’s happening, what are they going to do to you?’
‘They’re going to court martial me for at least fifteen different kinds of high treason.’
‘I’ll do anything I can to help you, Drew, but I don’t know what that means. I told my father I’d help you blow the whistle on him and he practically laughed in my face. As he was at pains to remind me, there’s no physical evidence linking any of the crashes to a fault.’
‘Not yet,’ Drew said.
She looked puzzled.
Drew walked to the window and stood looking out into the gathering dusk as a jet streaked down the runway and lifted off. ‘I’m not giving up. There’s a transport due in from Finnington in the morning and I suspect I’ll be sent back on it.’ He turned back to her. ‘So there isn’t much time.’
‘Time for what?’
‘I’ve been over and over those two flights a thousand times in my mind,’ he said. ‘Every time I go to sleep, I’m flying them.’
‘So?’
He took a deep breath. ‘So I’m going to go back up and do exactly the same commands, in exactly the same sequence as I did over Appleby and Bosnia.’
‘And what if you succeed?’ Michelle asked. ‘You’ll have proved your point, but you’ll be in a wooden box. It’s Russian roulette.’
‘If I don’t do it, this thing’s never going to end. The only way I can prove there’s a fault in the aircraft, rather than the pilot, is to go back up and make it happen again.’
She nodded, but he could see her eyes brimming with tears. He reached out to take her hand.
He kissed her again, then walked into the bathroom. He lifted the cistern lid and took out a sealed plastic bag. He ripped it open and handed her an envelope and the miniature tape recorder. ‘First of all, I want you to post the envelope to my lawyer in London.’
‘What’s in it?’
He hesitated. ‘It’s the tape I made of the guy at Barnwold.’ She nodded. ‘Then I want you to get into the control tower and tape everything I say while I’m flying the Tempest. I’ll keep the link to the tower open and talk through every single move I make. Whatever happens to me, that tape will pinpoint the fault with the Tempest.’
‘But there’s already a voice tape in the flight recorder. Why do you need another one?’
‘Because the ADR and the official voice tape will go to the Accident Investigation Board. If something happens, you’ve got to get the tape out.’
He saw her eyes cloud. ‘Nothing will happen. We’ll start manoeuvring at thirty thousand feet, so I’ll have a ten-thousand-foot cushion to give me time to regain control.’
‘And if you don’t?’
‘I can just bang out. The Air Force will lose another thirty-million-pound jet, but, as your father himself told me, accepting the losses of equipment and aircrew is a necessary price to pay for our continued national security.’
She laughed despite herself. ‘What if nothing happens?’
‘Then I’ll go back up to thirty thousand feet and do it again until either something does or I run out of fuel.’
‘If you’re goi
ng to duplicate the flights exactly, you need a backseater carrying out the same actions. Who’s going to be stupid enough to fly with you?’
‘Can you go and find Ali and get him up here?’
She stared at him. ‘Even if he agrees, you’re confined to your room. How are you going to get out?’
‘Simple,’ Drew said. ‘I’ll climb out of the window.’
‘On a knotted bed sheet?’
‘There’s a drainpipe.’
‘You’ll fall.’
‘Michelle, I’m about to do a thirty-thousand-foot dive. The thought of dropping another eighteen doesn’t exactly terrify me.’
She was back with Ali ten minutes later. Drew wasted no time. ‘I want you to be my back-seater on a sortie.’
‘Not Stig?’ Ali shrugged, puzzled. ‘All right. No problem.’
‘Not quite. Officially I’m grounded, but, since you’ve been on holiday in Bosnia and then in the sickbay, there’s no way you could know that. That’s the good news. The bad news is I need you to help me try to recreate the fault… It’s the only way I can prove what’s wrong with the aircraft.’
Ali glanced from Drew to Michelle. ‘So what if it works?’
Drew tried to sound confident. ‘We’ll be starting from height this time, so we’ll have time to try and regain control or eject,’ he said. ‘I know it’s asking a lot, Ali.’
‘You’re not wrong there.’
‘You’re the only person I can ask. That fault killed DJ. It almost killed you. If he hadn’t gone back, he’d be alive and you’d be dead. If we fly this sortie, we can make that worth something.’
‘Jesus, Drew, you know how to twist the knife.’ He paused. ‘All right. When do we go?’
‘Now.’
Ali started to say something else, but then thought better of it. ‘I’d better be the one to get clearance from the authoriser. I’ll tell him I’m going up with Jumbo. He’s off duty today and he’s gone into town for dinner.’
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