The Final Flight by James Blatch (fastest ebook reader .TXT) 📕

he had screwed down the priming pump and closed the priming cock.

He watched as JR opened the engine up to one thousand RPM.

“Pain, but we have to warm the engine for a minute or two.”

Rob monitored the engine temperature gauges. The white needle inched slowly around the dial.

Susie appeared between them.

“You’re best to keep seated,” Rob shouted above the engine noise, but she pointed out of the window.

An RAF police car was driving toward the air traffic tower. They watched it pull to a halt before a policeman jumped out and looked toward them.

“For us?” Rob said.

“I think so. Perhaps we should get going?”

JR didn’t need asking twice. He released the park brake and gave a wave to the ground crew, who showed him three chocks. He pushed the throttles and the aircraft crept forward.

Rob kept his eyes on the policeman. He was running toward them.

“Are you going to radio the tower?” JR asked.

“I think that would be futile now.”

“Agreed.”

JR swung the Anson onto the westerly taxiway and taxied as fast as he dared.

The radio burst into life. “Anson, Shorthand one-three, you are requested to shut down .”

Rob watched through the side window as the policeman, reacting to the plane’s movement, stopped and ran back to his car.

The radio shouted at them again. “Shorthand one-three you are ordered to stop taxi and shutdown immediately.’

“Shall we turn that off?” Rob said.

“Good idea.” JR turned the rotary dial.

The crossing point for the main runway was straight ahead, about halfway along its length.

“Plenty of space for this old girl,” JR said.

Rob selected a take-off flap setting and craned his head around. The police car swung onto the taxiway and disappeared behind them. It must have been doing fifty MPH; they were doing about twenty. The policeman would be level with them, or worse, in front of them, in moments.

The turn onto the main runway was still a hundred yards away.

But they were facing into wind.

“Just go,” Rob said.

JR looked at him. “What?”

“Use the taxiway. We’ve run out of time, JR. Let’s just go!”

 JR pushed the throttles forward, and they both monitored the engines, which should have had more of a chance to warm up.

The airspeed indicator lumbered slowly up.

“Come on, come on...” Rob willed the aircraft to accelerate.

He looked around, pressing against the window, trying to glimpse the police car, only to see it had caught up with them and was now attempting to overtake, one set of wheels on the grass.

“Shit, he’s going to get in front of us!”

Forty-five knots, fifty knots.

The needle was agonisingly slow to respond.

The police car came level with the leading edge of the wing.

The driver seemed to find a burst of energy from the engine and it moved ahead, level with the nose.

Sixty-five knots.

JR eased the yoke back.

But the aircraft stayed planted.

The police car inched further ahead.

“If he gets clear, he’ll pull in front and we’re done for!” Rob shouted.

Susie stood up again, gripping the back of the two cockpit seats.

“COME ON!” she yelled over the din of the engines.

The Anson’s wings finally began to bite and the aircraft lifted slowly into the air, leaving the police car way behind.

JR kept the nose close to the horizon, allowing the airspeed to build, before nudging it up, teasing the vintage aircraft into a gentle, if reluctant, climb.

“Better keep your chart out and radio off,” said Rob. “We’re going to navigate old-school.”

JR continued the gentle bank. Rob scanned the scene below. Two more police cars caught up with the one that had been chasing them. A crowd of men in various uniforms stood around the base of the tower.

“This is it now. We’re committed.”

JR laughed. “You could say that.”

The Oxfordshire countryside slipped by. JR kept the battered silver Anson just below the clouds, with the nose pointing south-east.

Rob tapped the compass heading.

“Let’s throw them off the scent a little, leave the west until Reading when we’re well out of sight.”

“Good idea.”

Rob studied the chart.

“That’s Didcot ahead.” He pointed. “See the brown sprawl beyond? That’s Reading.”

“Got it,” JR confirmed.

Rob retrieved a pencil from his coveralls pocket and drew a rough line from Reading to a point between Bristol and Bath.

From there, they would follow the Severn Estuary and north Devon coast until they were visual with Lundy.

He showed the new lines to JR, who nodded in appreciation at their simplicity. He roughly measured the distance, checked their cruise speed, and noted the duration of each leg, just in time to start the stopwatch at Swindon.

After the navigation exercise, there was little else to do.

Rob sat back. With no distraction, lost in the rhythmic drone of the engine, the full enormity of what had happened started to sink in.

“You OK?” JR called over the intercom.

Rob pushed off his headset.

JR leaned across and tugged at his harness until it released.

He manoeuvred himself out of the P2 seat and staggered back. Susie caught him and helped him into the torn leather seat next to hers.

Susie’s breath next to his ear.

“It’s OK, it’s OK. Just breathe.”

He closed his eyes and folded himself forward. Her voice was soft and kind, and the breath on his ear was warm. He smelt her sweet scent.

Slowly, he took deeper breaths; the worst of the panic was passing.

Opening his eyes, still doubled over, he studied the dirty floor of the old aircraft.

The dust of a thousand troops transported around the world.

Some to their deaths. It could be worse.

Susie’s hand stroked his head; he sat up.

“Sorry,” he said.

“No need to apologise.”

“It feels like I’ve crossed the Rubicon.” He turned to her. “My old life, it’s gone, isn’t it?”

“We’re doing the right thing, Rob. Remember what Millie must have gone through, sitting in these very seats, terrified, lying to Kilton. And why? It must have been the most urgent thing in his life, and that’s why we’re here.”

Rob thought of Millie, alone in the back of the Anson, JR up front, helping but unaware of his real task.

“But what if we don’t get what we need? Like you said? I can’t