Arthur Gable leaned closer to his son. ‘Just remember though son, it’s not always like that. We can go months not doing much, just mooching around the office, tidying our filing cabinets; and then there’s other times, when we find ourselves being shot at!’
Andrew took in a breath. ‘For Christ’s sake, dad, I maybe a policeman down in the garden of England, but that doesn’t mean all we ever do is deal with sheep-rustling and give out tickets for illegally parked tractors! Don’t forget, Maidstone also has a top security prison. We’ve had a lot of breakouts; I’ve had to handle some nasty individuals and, we’ve had to use firearms on occasions. Dad, I’m only thirty-nine. What I’m saying is that Alex could do with some younger blood working with him. He’s no spring-chicken himself, from what I saw when he chased Allenby on top of that hovercraft. What do you think about that?’
Arthur Gable nodded. The tenacity his boy had shown was enough to convince him he could indeed work well with Swan. ‘Well, I think by the sounds of it you have made your mind up, and I’m sure that Alex will approve as well.’ He rose from his chair. ‘I’ll talk to Janet in the morning. I wanted to do it today, but I just seemed to stall each time I felt like bringing it to her to attention.’
‘And I’ll talk to Sandra, tonight.’
On seeing the two ladies returning from the bottom of the garden, the two men suddenly changed the subject. As Jason began to bark again, Arthur Gable went inside to select the wine for dinner.
Chapter 28
The next morning, following a hearty cooked breakfast, the three men climbed into an RAF Land Rover.
Over that breakfast they had discussed their problem to deceive the UN, so they could enter the airport which was effectively classified as ‘no man’s land’. After some thought, Hornsby suggested a way to access the plane without raising any suspicions from the Indian UN commander. He had gone over to the operations room to retrieve an authorised false flight plan for them to fly the aircraft back to Akrotiri.
Swan had already done some ground work with this, back in the UK. In Dover, Swan had contacted Sir Alistair Higgins, informing him of the situation and the need to access the Shackleton. Higgins had obliged by pulling certain strings, to allow everything necessary to give Swan and Jack Rowse the ability to get aboard the plane and retrieve the document.
This flight plan was the perfect deception. It would be declared to the UN commander, but following an inspection, Hornsby would declare the aircraft had been sabotaged, probably by the Turkish commandos, and would not be able to fly again. They would then have to leave the aircraft, but would have obtained the copy of the Ankara agreement.
They approached the guard room, and as Hornsby leaned out to hand over the dispatch papers, the guard announced Swan had received a telegram from his wife. He handed it to Swan to read.
12:56 LONDON T-45 DIRECT LONDON TEL ALEX SWAN CYPRUS SBA AKROTIRI
URGENT — ALEX STOP — PORTUGUSE PORT AUTHORITIES AT PONTA DELGARDA INFORMS THAT EX-US NAVY SUBMARINE — USS HATCHER BERTHED ON 31 JULY AND DEPARTED ON 1 AUGUST STOP — DESTINATION WAS TO SOUDA BAY IN CRETE FOR RE-COMMISSIONING TO GREEK NAVY STOP — STATUS INSPECTION DECLARED THAT IT WAS UNARMED STOP — TAKE CARE — JANET
Swan read the telegram again, then folded it and placed it into the breast pocket of his shirt. The Land over followed the guard to the barrier. Satisfied with the papers, the guard lifted the barrier to allow the vehicle to pass under it and head out.
They continued to drive north, through small villages, and from their seats, Swan and Rowse stared out at the pockets of people gazing at their vehicle; people who were struggling in their heads to decide whether the occupants were friend or foe. Some were taking things out of their houses and packing their cars. Others were carrying sandbags and placing them against the walls, beneath the windows of their properties, as if they foresaw there was still worse to come. Rumours were rife that the Turks were planning a second invasion, to the east of the island.
Hornsby drove slowly along the road as children ran out in front of them. Rowse was lost in thought. So, this was what a war-torn community looked like. This was what his foreign secretary had gone to Geneva to avoid, but unfortunately neither Greece nor Turkey had so far agreed to any plan to cease these hostilities.
With Turkey wanting partition to protect its citizens, and Greece wanting enosis, the British governor had returned from his trip to Switzerland with no agreement to the proposed peace plan.
As they passed through this desperate community, men and women who had noticed the small Union Jack pennant flying from the vehicle were shouting at them, making threatening gestures and even throwing stones. Hornsby decided it might be a good idea to get out of the village as quickly as possible. Swan knew there would be other villages, just like this one, with confused and devastated inhabitants needing either logical answers to the problem, or hope of getting through what may be to come.
At a Greek checkpoint, Hornsby stopped. All three men got out of the vehicle and showed their credentials. Rowse felt a little intimidated as the soldiers stared at him, their fingers around their machine guns.
The officer in charge examined their papers, asking questions none of them could answer, such as what their country was doing about the situation. They were then dismissed back into their vehicle and allowed to continue.
Further towards Nicosia, they had to go through the process again; only this time, it was a Turkish checkpoint, with a T-72 tank poised at the makeshift barrier.
Passing through, Swan noticed the machine’s crew members smoking and playing cards, while behind them, their commanding officer clutched the new bottle of Johnny Walker Red Label scotch whisky that Hornsby had used to bribe him a clear path.
On seeing the official Greek stamp they had acquired earlier in their journey, the Turkish officials decided to make it difficult for the Englishmen. Hornsby had been advised to pack a crate of scotch, specifically in case of incidences such as this.
The roads continued. Hornsby had decided to bypass the city of Nicosia, taking a road leading directly to the airport. He had been informed they could even find the perimeter a problem. Both Greek and Turkish forces surrounded it, meaning another bottle of scotch or two could well be needed.
At the airport, Rowse was relieved to finally see the light-blue berets of UN soldiers as they checked their papers and greeted them inside the complex. It was also as they drove around the main terminal building, they saw at first the Cyprus Airways Trident. It had been peppered with bullet holes, probably from the initial paratrooper assault.
Parked a few hundred yards from it, was the Shackleton.
Hornsby and Rowse were pleased to see that Doris was still in the same position, exactly where they had left her on that eventful Saturday morning. Hornsby parked the Land Rover next to the port wing of the plane and the three men climbed out into the sweltering sunshine.
Rowse was eager to get aboard, to get his hands on the Ankara agreement again, and as if it was only yesterday, he planned to go straight to its hiding place. Swan followed him up to the entry door.
Hornsby was the first to enter. Inside, the cabin was hot. There was also a musty smell, the mixture of human sweat, cooking oil and old leather hitting their nostrils. Swan examined the interior, looking at the galley and the bunk that lay in the centre of the aircraft. Rowse and Hornsby walked towards the cockpit, and as he climbed into the pilot’s seat, Rowse leant behind him, placed his arm inside the rip at the bottom of the seat and stretched out his fingers… onto the piece of paper they had come all this way for.