Red Hawk Rising

by Peter William Hall

  Rogerson dug his boot in by the toe. “No, I can only feel snow. Let’s backtrack and veer more west of south.” They did this and, after about twenty yards, found bare rock and the old path. They breathed a sigh of relief and increased their pace. Later, they would discover that they had walked out onto a snow overhang and were fortunate that it didn’t collapse under them.

  Across the valley, Captain Garasov and his team were skirting the southern slopes of Ben Macdhui and saw no sign of a crash. The snow lay undisturbed. “It must be across the other side of the Lairig Ghru,” said Captain Garasov. “We will head down and cross over,” and with that he swung round and led the way to the slope that was reasonably smooth and descended between rough outcropping. Their descent was fairly quick once they were below the cloud base. Pausing just below the cloud base, Garasov looked across the Lairig Ghru to the slopes of Cairn Toul and noticed dark patches in the snow. He took his binoculars out and trained on those patches. What he was looking at were parts of an aircraft scattered across the slopes. “Success! The plane crashed on the slopes of Cairn Toul. We will need to find the main part of the fuselage and its cargo.” Buoyed by the sighting, the team hurried down to the valley and crossed it in haste. They reached the first parts of the wreckage, the tailplane, and saw that the main wreckage was above the cloud base.

  About the same time, Sergeant Bradley’s team reached the summit of Cairn Toul and paused to radio in their location. He was picked up by both the base camp and Flying Officer McEwan, the latter responding, “We are not far behind you in the valley, Brad, and are about where the two burns join. Keep your radio switched on now in case we need to talk in a hurry. Over.”

  “Right-oh, sir, we will move south along the ridge to Coire Odhar and then drop down to the bothy. Over.” They started moving south along the edge of the cliff, peering through the mist for any sign of aircraft wreckage. Five minutes later they spotted part of the fuselage not far below the top of the cliff. Sergeant Bradley called a halt and radioed in their find. As he did so, Flying Officer McEwan lifted his binoculars up and trained them on the area. He picked up the broken tailplane just below the cloud base and then swore. There were four figures moving around it. They were dressed in white and could only be picked up when they were moving.

  “Come in Brad. We have visitors. There are four men moving away from the tailplane and up towards the cloud base. They could be our ‘friends’ the office told us about. Four of you move down to the wreckage you can see and two remain on the rim. We’ll move in behind them. Over.”

  There was a “Message received and understood. Over and out.” Then Sergeant Bradley said, “It appears we have company that may not be friendly. Jamie and Andy, you come with Tiny and me. Tim and Dave, you both stay on the rim. Unrope and spread out a bit. We’ll leave our packs on the rim but take your ice axes and put your crampons on. Jamie, take the radio with you. The four of us will go down and cover the wreckage. Keep quiet and only call out in an emergency.” They quickly did as they were told and then Sergeant Bradley led the way down off the rim and to the wreck. The slope was very steep but negotiable without ropes. They carefully eased their way down to the wreckage. A superficial examination showed that the nose and cockpit had telescoped on impact, the main fuselage breaking off at the wing spars and breaking up. Parts would be below the impact site but were out of site with the mist. Sergeant Bradley indicated by hand to spread out and move down towards the fuselage parts, still out of sight in the mist. As they neared the wreckage, they heard voices below them. Sergeant Bradley indicated to Jamie to be with him and to Andy and Tiny to spread out.

  Unaware of other people in the area, Captain Garasov and his team moved up and into the mist that still covered the mountains. As they worked their way up the slope, they followed where the snow had been scored by the falling tailplane. They came across the broken parts of the fuselage and one of them pointed to a small crate fastened to the floor of the aircraft cabin. Garasov indicated to the crate and one of the men took a claw hammer out of his pack and started prising open the lid of the crate. The lid came away and he made an exclamation in Russian. Garasov immediately told him to speak in English. “Get that unit out quickly,” he said, and the man quickly obeyed. The four men were focused on the find and didn’t see the RAF men coming down towards them. Moving toward the upper part of the fuselage floor, Captain Garasov looked up and saw the approaching figures. He stopped. All he saw were two mountaineers until one of them stopped and put a radio headset on and called in a message, “Team One calling. We have found wreckage and made contact with visitors. Over.” Garasov had to make a quick decision. What they wanted was in their hands but now they had unexpected visitors who seemed to be a search party.

  He moved forward and spoke. “Good morning. We were out hiking and came across this wreckage. Are you a search party looking for it?”

  Sergeant Bradley spoke loudly and replied, “Yes, sir, we are. You must put back what you have tampered with and leave the area immediately. This is RAF property and we are RAF personnel. Please return down the slope. This area is a crash site and now off limits to anyone but the military.” Garasov’s men stopped and waited for his instructions. Garasov could see only two men but assumed that there must be others in the area. He decided to chance it and drew his revolver and told the two RAF men to stay where they were.

  Pointing his revolver at Jamie, he said, “Take that radio pack off and put it on the ground. Then move away from it.” Slowly Jamie obeyed, keeping his eyes on the man holding the gun. Two of Garasov’s men put the ECM unit into a large pack and then put the pack on the third man’s back.

  “Ready to leave,” one of them said.

  “Move out,” said Garasov, and they started to move back down the slope while Garasov held the gun on Sergeant Bradley and Jamie. Just out of sight due to the mist but within hearing distance were Andy and Tiny. Quietly they moved down the slope, one on each side of the wreckage. Tiny came out of the mist toward Garasov who turned and fired at him. The bullet hit him in the shoulder and he spun round with the impact and fell into the snow. At the sound of the shot there were shouts in English down the slope.

  “Draw weapons and spread out, men,” was the command with replies of, “Okay, sir.” Garasov realised that he would have to make a break for it and disappear into the mist. Similarly, Garasov’s men decided to make a break for it. One swung off into the mist and headed up the slope in a southerly direction. The other two swung across the slope but stayed together to protect the captured ECM unit. Garasov headed off into the mist, also in southerly direction and was seen by Andy. Sergeant Bradley headed towards the injured Tiny while Jamie raced for the radio unit and called in for help.

  “Number One Team calling. Corporal Morris shot and injured. The enemy have taken the unit. Two men with it, headed south. The other two separately headed up the slope in a south-westerly direction. Over.”

  The reply came seconds later. “Stay with Corporal Morris. We will track the two with the ECM unit and then head up to you. Over.” Sergeant Bradley told Jamie to leave him the radio and go back up to the rim and bring back the first aid kit. Jamie headed out.

  In the mist, Andy caught sight of Garasov angling up the slope and still carrying the gun. He followed Garasov but kept back. Garasov turned to see if he was being followed and thought he had a glimpse of someone below him. The person wasn’t in white so he hastily fired a shot in that direction, more to discourage anyone following him. The shot missed Andy and he moved in a more southerly route up the slope, aiming to cut the Russian off up at the rim. The shot was heard by the fourth Russian, Anton Verasin, who decided to head in that direction and meet up with Garasov. Below the rim, Garasov found that he was going to have to climb. The rocks were icy underneath the snow and without crampons on he had difficulty with footholds. Garasov put the revolver back in his tunic and hauled himself up, mainly with his hands. A little further south, Andy was also climbing up to the rim but making
much better time. He pulled himself up onto the rim and moved north, a little in but parallel to the edge of the rim. Garasov finally hauled himself up onto the rim and stood there getting his breath back after the exertion of the climbing. He started forward when a figure loomed out of the mist and launched itself on him. Before Garasov could draw the revolver, the figure hit him hard and both men fell to the ground. It was hard for Andy to maintain a grip on the white waterproof suit being worn by Garasov, who managed to break free and roll away. Both men leapt to their feet and momentarily stared at each other, waiting for each other’s move. As Garasov started to draw his revolver, Andy did a flying dropkick. Garasov quickly moved sideways but Andy’s feet caught Garasov high on the thigh and he toppled over the edge of the rim. He fell about ten feet and bounced off a rock before falling a further ten feet and landing sideways onto the sharp edge of a rock. There was a crack as the thigh bone broke from the impact and Garasov cried out in pain. Andy started to get back on his feet. As he was standing up there was a movement behind him and he started to turn. There was a blow to the back of his head and, despite his balaclava and hood, it was hard enough to make him black out. Andy fell to the ground unconscious. Anton Verasin momentarily stood over him, the claw hammer in his hand. He had seen the brief clash between his boss and this airman. Noting that the airman was unconscious, he looked over the rim and could just see Captain Garasov, lying injured. He climbed down to his boss. Garasov saw who it was and said that his left thigh was broken and that he wouldn’t be able to walk. Verasin said, “We have to get away from here. Our only hope is to move now and stay in the cloud where they can’t see us.” He helped Captain Garasov to stand up, moved to his left side and Verasin put his right arm round Garasov’s back and Garasov’s left arm around his shoulder. Slowly, he picked their way through the rocky surface to a lower level where the ground was less uneven. Garasov bit his lip with the pain until it bled. They both knew that they must be as quiet as possible. Verasin paused for a minute to allow his boss a brief respite from the pain, then they moved forward again. He kept doing this and they gradually moved away from the area.

  Up on the rim, Andy was slowly coming out of his unconscious state. Tim Hart found him and got him to a sitting position. “Hang on Andy. When you can stand, we’ll go back to the others.” Meanwhile Flying Officer McEwan and his team had moved quickly along the lower slopes of Cairn Toul where the going was much easier. He directed two of his men to race ahead towards the Corrour Bothy and then swing up the track towards Buidheanach of Cairn Toul. He and his other man would angle up the slope and pick up the footprints of the two Russians. The Russians would then be in a pincer movement.

  “Don’t be frightened to use your side-arms. They must be stopped,” he directed them. The two pairs split up and moved forward. Ten minutes later, Flying Officer McEwan and partner picked up the tracks and hurriedly followed them. Fifteen minutes later they saw two figures ahead in the mist. Only their movement made them visible against the snow. Drawing closer, Flying Officer McEwan paused and, drawing his revolver, dropped to one knee and took aim. He fired a volley of shots at the legs and saw one Russian stumble and fall. The other man tried to help him up but the weight of the ECM unit on his back made it too difficult. As he turned and straightened up he saw two men with guns almost on them. Behind him was a shout in English and he knew that it was no use running. Both Russians looked at each other and nodded. Then they each bit into the cyanide capsule in their hollowed-out tooth. It was soon all over. The RAF team moved in and recovered the ECM unit.

  In a safe location on the western side of Cairn Toul, Captain Garasov and Verasin rested and waited for darkness. Garasov swore that one day he would kill the man who caused his broken thigh and so much pain.

  CHAPTER 2

  It is mid-September in 1960 and the scene moves to London. Air Vice-Marshal (AVM) Denby looked out of the window of his office at Air Ministry in London and sighed. He was head of the ‘Defensive Weapons Development Programme’ that was responsible for the evaluation of new weapons such as the Surface to Air Missile Systems. A lesser known role was that of being the head of the RAF’s internal Intelligence Security Unit, or ISU for short. The current headache was with No. 28 JSTU (Joint Service Trials Unit), evaluating a new Surface to Air Missile (or SAM for short) system. The project was behind schedule but if it hadn’t been for the keenness of his RAF personnel working at the factories, it would have been further behind. The problem appeared to lie with the trade unions and the strikes and other tactics that appeared to be aimed at delaying its development. Added to this, some vital technical information related to it appeared to be in the hands of the Russians already. There was a serious leak in security somewhere. Air Vice-Marshal Denby was confident that his RAF personnel on the project were not part of the problem. He needed to do more than rely on MI5 (Military Intelligence 5, responsible for internal security in Britain). Each of his operatives in ISU was a regular serviceman performing normal duties on the surface but carrying out assignments that protected the RAF. He got up from his desk and stood looking out of the window and thinking of strategies. After a few minutes, Denby pulled a list of his operatives out of a desk drawer and scrutinised the names. Then he buzzed for his secretary, Miss Jennifer Younger-Haig. She was a thirty-two-year-old brunette with the looks and figure of a film star. Still single, she came from a military family of Scottish descent and spoke with a slight burr of a Scottish accent despite the year at finishing school. The lady was intensely loyal to her boss and was more of a personal assistant than a secretary. She knocked and entered the Air Vice-Marshal’s office. “Jennifer, I’m wearing the ISU hat. I want Corporal Hill posted from Woomera to 28 JSTU with effect 19th September. That’s in a week’s time and he is to have priority transport — put him on a QANTAS flight, if necessary. Disembarkation leave postponed so he is to report for duty immediately. He is to go directly to RAF West Sanby where the trials will be held. The publican in West Sanby is ex-RAF and owes us a favour. Get Squadron Leader MacCrae at Lutterworth to contact him and pull in the favour. Then we need one of our men from Mountain Rescue to be detached for a month on special duties. They are casual enough to fit into the civilian scene. Which one should we have?”

  Jennifer referred to her file and said, “I suggest Corporal James Rogerson, sir. He knows Corporal Hill quite well. They were teamed together in the ‘Pembroke’ affair.”

  “Fine, Jennifer. You know what to do.” She finished writing some notes in shorthand and left the office, shutting the door behind her. Air Vice-Marshal Denby then contacted Group Captain Clarkson, who was in charge of the Red Hawk programme.

  ***

  The old Bedford bus drew up near the main gate of the RAF base and discharged a lone passenger. It was one of those days in September when the weather was unpredictable. Gray clouds were moving across the sky and you didn’t know whether it would be rain or sunshine. The acting corporal of the RAF Police watched him approach the guardroom. A substantive corporal of some experience, judging by the worn stripes on the T63 uniform he was wearing. He noted the crossed rifles on the sleeve. The corporal appeared to be in his mid-twenties, about six feet tall and slim, and he sauntered up with his kitbag slung over his shoulder. As he slid the window open, the young acting corporal wondered how far you would be able to push this guy. Reaching the guardroom, the corporal handed over his movement orders to be checked and then presented his F.1250 identity card. Corporal William Andrew Hill smiled in a relaxed way. The photo showed him to have slightly receding, wavy auburn hair, currently hidden by his uniform cap. This man was bronzed as though he had been overseas for some time. When he spoke, he had the trace of a North Country accent in a rather cultured voice. “Which way to the trials unit Admin, please?” The RAF policeman made an entry in the log to note Corporal Hill’s arrival. It was Tuesday, 15th September, 1960. Then he gave Corporal Hill a map of the base and marked the office location on it for him. “Thanks, mate,” betrayed where he
had been recently and Corporal “Andy” Hill walked through the base gate and headed for the admin block. The old Bedford bus, that had dropped him off at the base from Louth, turned and went back down the road with the engine and gearbox whine peculiar to that model as the driver went through the gears.

  Corporal Hill walked into the unit orderly room and presented his movement order to the SAC clerk on the desk saying, “I’m to report to Flight Lieutenant Gaskin.” The clerk excused himself and knocked on an office door before going in with the Movement Order. A minute later he came out and asked Corporal Hill to go in. Corporal Hill walked briskly into the office and, coming to attention, saluted the flight lieutenant sitting at the desk.

  “At ease,” he was told. “Take a seat,” given with a nod toward a chair to one side of the desk. “As you can see, I’m Flight Lieutenant Gaskin, your section commander. What do you know of this unit’s work?”

  “A general outline, sir,” Corporal Hill replied. “I’m reasonably familiar with the missile through tests at Woomera but not with the rest of the system.”

  “Did you complete the formalities at unit HQ before coming down here?” Corporal Hill replied that he had.

  “I was told that I was to be part of the advance party before the whole unit assembled here and to report to you, sir.”

  “Did you get any disembarkation leave, Corporal?”

  “No sir. I was told to report directly to the unit and disembarkation leave was deferred.” The last sentence was accompanied with a bit of a sigh.