JET LAG! (15 page)

              Todd screeched to a halt.

              He turned round to face the Prime Minister.

              ‘Looks like a stand-off, doesn’t it. Perhaps you’ll listen to us now?’ proffered Churchill, who maintained his air of calm.

              However, at that point, one of the 1992 aircrew burst out of the melee and ran towards Todd brandishing his pistol. He passed Todd and headed for the group containing the PM pulling up at about twenty-five yards and raised his weapon, taking aim at Churchill. Two shots rang out and the surprise assailant fell lifeless to the floor.

              Nobody moved – the silence was deafening until Todd broke it.

              ‘Alright, Barclay, lay down your weapons. Prime Minister, I’m with you. If that dead man can react in such a passionate and violent way to this situation, then I certainly need to reassess our position.’

              The PM turned to AVM Morrissey with a puzzled look in his eyes.

              ‘Why did that man try to attack us and why did your son kill him?’

              ‘Because, Prime Minister, that man lying there is Korvetten Kapitan Anton Fischer on attachment to the RAF from the German Navy. His father was a pilot in the German Luftwaffe in 1940.’

***

              ‘He will get a full military funeral, Wing Commander, you can be assured of that.’

              The PM was clearly trying to make Todd feel better. But Todd was in no mood for conciliation.

Todd had just shot and killed one of his own men. The reality of all this suddenly hit home hard and he sat down in the middle of the hangar – pale and exhausted by it all.

              The PM again took the initiative. He addressed the crowd of ‘prisoners’ standing at the end of the hangar.

              ‘Ladies and gentlemen. You have nothing to fear – I would suggest that you hand over your weapons in order to prevent such an incident re-occurring.  You will all be taken to the Officers Mess where a meal and an explanation await you.’

              No-one moved. The soldiers had retrieved their guns and were trying to confiscate the aircrew weapons. It was a Mexican stand-off until Todd stood up, turned to his team and asked them to do as they were told. He promised them some answers very soon. The crowd relented, reluctantly handed over their pistols and made their way unwillingly towards four antique coaches which they boarded in silence.

              The PM approached and spoke gently to Todd.

              ‘I thank you sincerely Wing Commander, on two accounts,’ briefly nodding towards the dead German officer on the hangar floor.

              ‘Before we brief your people, I believe that we should talk some more. I need to be certain of your absolute loyalty and co-operation.’

              Todd looked the Prime Minister straight in the eye and then at Anton Fischer lying dead on the floor,

              ‘Oh yes sir, I think you can be certain of that!’

***

              Whilst all this was going on in the hangar, the British security system had sprung into top gear. By now there was a ring of over two hundred military policemen – fully armed – circling the airfield. The personnel involved with the Air Traffic involvement had been picked up and transported to the Officers Mess at Middle Fleckney.

The two Spitfire pilots who shot down the Tornado were arrested up at their home base and also conveyed to the airfield. Fortunately they had just landed as the police arrived, and had been whisked away before they could debrief on their adventure. The armed Home Guard soldiers who had secured the aircraft after they landed at Fleckney were assembled in a barrack block and were awaiting orders. Churchill had already decided that these men could not leave Fleckney for the time being. Their families would be told that they had been sent away for special training. That should keep them temporarily happy and defer curiosity. All telephone facilities at Fleckney were guarded and no-one was allowed to leave or enter the station without the PM’s express permission. This camp was closed down tight and completely off limits!

              Dowding had been ordered to get the RAF station at Middle Fleckney up and running with as few personnel as possible. This would be the base of operations for future sorties involving the Purple aircraft. An intermediate building plan was drawn up to construct any facilities currently lacking at Fleckney. Fortunately, Fleckney had been used during the nineteen thirties as a reserve Airship facility. It had some decent buildings but they would need considerable ‘tarting-up.’

              One final job to be done immediately was to make sure that no civilians had seen anything of import. Fleckney had been chosen in the thirties  mainly for its remote location, so inquisitive civvies shouldn’t pose a major problem. There was one farm about four miles north-east of the airfield, but that was deliberate. The farmer, a man named Hutch, was used as a sort of semi-official guardian to ward off unnecessary interest. He was security cleared to a moderate level, as were his wife and two children.

              So Middle Fleckney became a hive of industry on that dank afternoon in early July 1940. Churchill was grateful for the low cloud and rain which had crept in as the afternoon developed, as it would keep nosey-parkers away and would have probably covered the arrival of the jet aircraft. He had covered all contingencies possible at this early stage and a full meeting of  specially selected personnel would be convened tomorrow.

But for now his immediate and vital priority was the need to win over the human constituents of Purple formation. They were bewildered, confused and exhausted by the day’s events. This made them volatile and potentially dangerous. It was his task now to gain their confidence and unqualified support for the months ahead.

22

The Temporal Paradox

              The Prime Minister had just spent fifty minutes explaining the situation to the assembled group. They had eaten a sparse lunch and were in no mood for being fobbed off. Clearly, some of them did just not believe what was going on. Others were stunned and silent. Some were very angry and shouted the odds, hurling abuse at the PM. They reckoned that all of this drama was clearly a trick to test their initiative – well it wasn’t going to work – and the atmosphere started to turn nasty.

              Todd realised that he should now jump in. If he didn’t throw his full weight behind the PM, disaster could result and further bloodshed might occur. Todd stood up and remained silent, looking at his team until the hubbub receded and it was clear that all ears and eyes were trained on him alone. The Prime Minister realised at that precise moment that Todd Morrissey was a vital part of this operation.

              ‘Ladies & Gentlemen, I have a few words to say and perhaps you’ll show me the courtesy of hearing me out.’

              He paused for effect.

              ‘I am just as scared and disoriented as you are. Maybe you didn’t notice, but I have just shot and killed one of our colleagues – and a close personal friend - who certainly realised what is going on and tried very hard to exploit the situation. We have to face the hard evidence presented to us. If this is, indeed, a dream, then we are all dreaming it – and therefore we’d be better off by either accepting it – or just wake up! That is the first hurdle we need to clear. So, can I ask if anyone here is not prepared to listen further, and therefore is not prepared to accept the bizarre hand that fate has dealt us?’

              The meeting remained silent. Todd looked around the room, quietly willing the troops to agree to listen further. After a full sixty seconds had passed Todd continued. His father, the AVM, gave him his silent approval with a quick nod.

              ‘Okay, then, I will take it that at this stage everyone is prepared to listen further to what we have to say. Good, then I’ll continue. Yes, we are in nineteen forty. No, we don’t understand how that’s possible. Yes, we realise that this is like something out of Star Trek. No, we don’t believe in time travel. What we believe is irrelevant. WE ARE HERE - and we need to make the best of it. No, this is not a trick or a test or anything like that. This is as real as it gets.’

              One hand came up out of the audience.

              ‘Sir, what about our families – will we see them again?’

              ‘Thanks for that question, I’m sure it was on everyone’s lips. I’ll ask AVM Morrissey to answer that.’

              The AVM stood up and tried his best to explain how the aircraft had got here and the opportunity to return on September the eighth. He also pointed out that in 1940, very few people in his audience had even been born! He used the word ‘paradox’ and tried for several minutes to clarify the meaning of the word. He didn’t have much luck as most of his audience were far too bemused to comprehend! He'd probably need to visit a psychiatrist by the end of the day!

*

Note:

              (
‘The term ‘temporal paradox’ has been used to argue that time travel must be impossible, because it is theoretically capable of resulting in a ‘paradox’. (Definition:
a seemingly absurd or contradictory statement or proposition which when investigated may prove to be well founded or true.)

              It has been argued, however, that none of the supposed paradoxes formulated in time travel stories can actually be formulated at a precise physical level: that is, any situation in a time travel story can turn out to permit many consistent solutions. Nevertheless, the classic example of a temporal paradox is of a man travelling back in time to meet and kill his own grandfather as a child. Of course if he did that, he wouldn't have existed to travel back in time in the first place! This is the paradox.

In the Star Trek episode featuring Joan Collins – ‘The City on the Edge of Forever’ – Captain Kirk travelled back to the nineteen thirties to ensure that Collins, playing a peace campaigner, actually dies in a road accident that is originally prevented by one of his crew. They had all travelled back through a Time Portal on a distant planet. Seconds after the Enterprise’s doctor plunges madly through the portal, the space ship in orbit disappears. Consequently, Kirk and Spock also need to travel back and prevent Collin’s survival – as she would have prevented America’s entry into WW2, and thus Hitler would have probably ruled Europe and prevented the US Space programme.

The paradox is that once the doctor saved Collin’s life and the USS Enterprise disappeared from orbit, none of them would have been on the distant planet in any case!’)

*

              Todd, praying for the appearance of that psychiatrist, broke in at that point.

              ‘So, if you can accept that we might get back in nine weeks, it makes sense to keep our aircraft serviceable so that they’re ready to go. And could it really hurt us to give the current war effort a small boost?’

              Squadron Leader Rick Hill of the Air Defence team stood up.

              ‘May I say something, Todd. I for one am prepared to give it a go. It seems to me that we’ve been presented with a unique opportunity to restore the balance of history. If we don’t make a contribution, then we’ll have wasted a real chance to make a difference. And if we are killed doing it – so be it. We take that risk every time we get airborne - I’ve flown combat missions in the Falklands and in Kuwait. I repeat, I’m for it. I regret that we have already lost a crew and a jet due to a terrible misunderstanding – but what's done is done. We will grieve for our colleagues in due course.’

              Slowly but surely heads started nodding around the room. Todd could see that he was carrying the day. He turned to the PM and gave his verdict.

              ‘I think that we need some orders, Prime Minister. Whether we like it or not - we have just become part of your Secret Army!’

***

              The next twenty-four hours was frenetic. Churchill reinforced his argument by stating that only a few hours before, on the first of July, a formation of twelve Spitfires from number 64 Squadron had been bounced by an unseen attacker. It came from no-where and disappeared without sighting. One Spit was lost and the others scattered. The RAF had a serious problem and Purple Formation were the only people that could possibly help. The PM knew that the mysterious and unsolved attacks were by a new type of jet and immediately grasped that it would probably take another jet - a superior British jet - to resolve the issue to Britain’s advantage. This assessment was confirmed by AVM Morrissey.