The Watchers (9 page)

– 11 –

I watched with mounting intrigue as the admiral clicked the lights off. He took up a position beside a projector, which whirred into life with the flick of a switch and spooled out flickering images of the remote coastal village that used to be my home: the sweeping beach at Broad Haven, the cove at Little Haven and beyond, St Brides Bay. As a child I’d look at that vast expanse and think,
I’m going to get away. I’m going to be someone and finish what Mum never could
. Now I looked and thought about the lighthouse in my dreams, remembered Grandfather’s warnings and superstitions.

‘As far as we can ascertain,’ began the admiral, ‘the recent disturbances in the Havens began on Christmas Day with an unexplained humming sound, which came at night, rattling windows. Locals thought it was coming out of the ground.’

There are giants, Robert . . . giants in the ground
.
Dangerous beings
.

‘Complaints first reached us through the 14th Signal Regiment at the Cawdor Barracks, Brawdy, where your father was stationed. Miss Searle, working in the constituency office, would have known about all of this. She would have been keeping files, records. As she did on this young woman, Miss Romero.’

The image on the screen changed: the hotelier with whom I had briefly spoken. ‘Miss Romero’s was one of the more recent reports to make the newspapers. And while you were preoccupied with the committee inquiry, Miss Searle contacted RAF Brawdy directly to pursue the matter. They, in turn, dispatched Flight Lieutenant Webb, who visited Miss Romero at the Haven Hotel.’

‘What did he find?’

‘Aside from a very confused and frightened young woman? The roof of her car was scorched, burned with an intense heat, and the car wouldn’t start. Webb concluded that Miss Romero and her daughter believed they had been confronted by something totally other.’

‘Believed,’ I repeated. ‘Doesn’t mean they
were
.’

The admiral nodded, but only for a moment. ‘The following week there came six reports of unusual activity in St Brides Bay. Men in diving suits sighted just off the coast, near Stack Rocks Island. During the day and at night. And then this, just last Friday, the most intriguing report of all.’

The room blinked into darkness for an instant as the screen refreshed. Now I was staring at a flickering image of thirteen children huddled together in the playground of their school. Twelve boys and one girl. They looked dazed. Some of them were deathly pale.

‘An entire classroom of children at the Broad Haven Primary School witnessed something extraordinary.’

Every child held a drawing of an object that looked like an upturned disc resting on the ground.

‘You see, Robert,’ he continued, ‘you may find this a surprise, but we have known for many years that flying saucers, UFOs – call them what you like – are real.’

I just stared. His choice of words wasn’t helping me. When I heard ‘flying saucers’ I thought of bug-eyed aliens and shitty B-movies from the 1960s. ‘Now please. You’re not suggesting that these things come from . . . ?’

‘Another planet?’ He smiled, shook his head. ‘Just because people see something strange in the skies does not necessarily mean that the something strange is a vehicle controlled by an alien intelligence.’ He paused, choosing his words carefully. ‘But peel away the layers of myth and speculation and you have a phenomenon deserving of serious scrutiny.’

‘It can’t be true,’ I whispered, eyeing the file of newspaper cuttings, police reports and other official documents.

‘Would it surprise you to learn there was once a division within the ministry that served as the focus for UFO reports in Britain, that Churchill himself gave the project the green light?’

What could I say? Contradictory opinions were stirring within me, growing, because on the one hand the triviality of such stories after what had happened to Selina was offensive to me. But on the other, here was one of the highest-ranking officials in the British government, a sensible level-headed professional, telling me I should take this seriously.

‘So,’ I said cautiously, ‘what are they?’

‘Most sightings can be explained as misidentifications of normal objects, optical illusions, psychological delusions or hoaxes. The rest are –’ he smiled at the image of the kids on the screen ‘– shall we say, rather more interesting.’

I studied him carefully, wondering how this connected with the explosion in Parliament, with Soviet intrigues and the mysteries in the Havens.

‘To know the present you must understand the past.’

The room blinked into darkness again. Now the projected image on the screen was of the front page of
The Times
. A headline read,
DOWNING STREET HIDING TRUTH ABOUT FLYING SAUCERS.

‘When the first reports appeared in British newspapers in 1947, a war had been won; another was just beginning, a war on communism – a totally different way of life. The skies were ours to control and protect, but suddenly there were these flying discs that no one could identify, objects which ran rings around our fighters and slipped in and out of radar. Artificial objects under
intelligent
control moving at quite fantastic speeds. They represented extremely advanced technology, and the possibility that Soviet secret aircraft were operating in UK skies was very real indeed. We weren’t the first to put a man in space. If the Kremlin could do that, what else could they conquer? Imagine,’ he almost whispered, ‘just one unidentifiable blip on the radar. Was it a Russian bomber, a guided missile? We needed to know. For that reason, personnel from the RAF and the navy were asked to submit reports for analysis, which were sent here, to Room 800. Witnesses weren’t to discuss the phenomena they had observed with anyone except authorized officials. The most puzzling cases were locked away in this room.’

‘So you’re saying most UFOs are secret military aircraft?’

‘That is what I believe.’

‘And the black triangle that appeared over Croughton in ’63?’

‘A Soviet drone, probably. We couldn’t let the public know that the UK’s air defences could be breached so easily. Imagine the impact on public confidence!’ The admiral was watching me closely from under his bushy eyebrows. His face seemed heavier under the facility’s artificial light. ‘You look doubtful, old chap?’

‘I still don’t see how this is connected with the explosion in Parliament.’

‘I’m getting to that.’ There was a long, long pause. ‘Remember when the U-2 spy plane was tested, it looked very much like a disc, especially when flying at the highest altitudes.’

‘But the U-2 was . . . American.’

‘Well exactly.’ The admiral smiled. ‘Trust me; the NSA and CIA have played the game far better than the Soviets. Indeed, the US has taken a different approach regarding public hysteria over flying saucers: UFOs provided the perfect smokescreen under which to test highly advanced prototype aircraft.’

Suddenly I understood. ‘You mean the Americans have actively encouraged the general population to believe in flying saucers?’

He nodded. ‘It was essential. In this Cold War nothing is more in demand than better, faster, more invisible aircraft, but the military couldn’t have their own people accidentally exposing their new weapons to the enemy.’

‘How is this connected with the Havens? With my grandfather?’

‘Our sources suggest that the Americans have been working on a top-secret aircraft, testing it in our skies without authorization.’

‘Why test it in our skies?’

‘Mission rehearsals. Our air defences are among the very best. They’re putting their new toy through its paces, testing its stealth in foreign skies, testing foreign military reactions. And they are engaging in activity that is very dangerous. Imagine, if one of these objects was to crash or collide with an interceptor jet. That sort of disaster would trigger an international incident with unthinkable consequences.’

‘You’re sure it’s the Americans?’

He nodded. ‘They’ve built something that would defeat the Soviets in speed, height and stealth. An aircraft that flies at ninety thousand feet and twenty-two thousand miles an hour. Soviet missiles wouldn’t stand a chance.’

A very unsettling thought now occurred to me. ‘You think the Americans are responsible for these sightings in Wales, don’t you? That’s why the Soviets are interested?’

The admiral nodded and sighed. ‘We have suggested politely and indirectly to our friends in America that they should not conduct these flights in UK airspace.’

‘And . . .?’

Up flashed the picture of the schoolchildren with their pictures of what they had seen. ‘Clearly, they’re not listening. It is clear that whatever happened at RAF Croughton in 1963, it was because something with this technology went wrong, and the Americans have done all they can to cover it up. We cannot allow that to happen again.’

‘And why specifically in St Brides Bay? Why the Havens?’

With his gnarled hands knitted behind his back, the admiral went to the light switch, flicked it on, then crossed the room to stand before a huge Ordnance Survey map fixed to the wall. ‘There are military installations all over the area,’ he said, pointing to Broad Haven, which lay under a cluster of blue pins – reports of strange sightings? ‘Here, a missile testing ground at Aperporth, and down here the military firing range at Milford Haven. And here, at the top of the bay, RAF Brawdy.’

‘But none of those bases are American.’

The admiral moved on to another slide, an aerial photograph of a facility I hadn’t laid eyes on since Mum and Dad were killed on the night of the Great Flood.

RAF Brawdy. My home before Ravenstone.

‘Robert, this site here –’ he pointed to a building alongside the base ‘– belongs to the US Navy.’

‘But NAVFAC is just an oceanographic research station,’ I told the admiral. I had reviewed the documentation on the facility myself. It was the first thing I had done when I started working for Bestford.

‘A research centre?’ The incredulity in his voice was unmistakable. ‘Controlled by the US Navy and secured on all sides by a high, double barbed-wire perimeter fence, two lookout towers and
a gatehouse? And for something so apparently innocuous, the Americans have been less than eager to share what exactly they’re doing behind those fences. They had a fire recently. The firemen at RAF Brawdy went to help. They did not receive a warm welcome. In fact, the Americans denied them entry at gunpoint. Does that sound routine to you?’

I hesitated, wishing I had reviewed that documentation a little more carefully.

‘That research facility is equipped with its own generator, its own security force,’ continued the admiral. ‘The guardroom has bulletproof glass. The terminal building has a series of heavy metal doors with an airlock in between each one surrounded by sound dampers and protected against electromagnetic snoopers. Totally blast-proof, built to withstand nuclear and biological fallout. The facility is manned by twenty-two USN officers and two hundred and seventy-eight other ranks. Believe me, the Soviets have rockets that can strike a target anywhere in the world. And now that they’ve got wind of what’s going on there, Broad Haven is at the top of the list.’

‘You look worried.’

He dropped his gaze. ‘We don’t have much time. Since the children went public with what they saw, news crews have descended on the village. They’re going crazy for the story with tales of aliens and God knows what else. They’re calling the area the bloody Broad Haven Triangle, for Christ’s sake! Six months ago your grandfather told a newspaper reporter that an increase in sightings over west Wales was to be expected. Do you see, Robert? He
predicted
this. And we need to know how.’

‘I don’t see how he can help you. He’s crazy! He thinks they’re from outer space.’

‘The admiral frowned. ‘Be that as it may, we need to contain this situation before it escalates, before he starts a panic. And you, Robert, are uniquely placed to help us. You know the area, you know the people.’

I thought frantically, searching for any excuse that might buy more time. The very idea of seeing my grandfather again – indulging his mania – made me go cold.

‘My closest friend is lying in a coma, and you want to send me on a wild goose chase to the middle of nowhere, talking to crazies and hunting lights in the sky?’

The admiral raised his eyebrows. ‘I would have thought you’d understand. You’re so passionate about campaigning for greater transparency on American facilities in this country, but so unwilling to accept how you yourself can play a part.’

His remark dangled in the silence that opened up between us.

‘The parish council has called a public meeting this Friday to debate the phenomena. And your grandfather is planning to interview some of the children this weekend.’

My mouth was dry. Not just because I couldn’t stand to think of Randall contaminating other young people’s minds, but because I knew what was coming next.

‘We want you to reacquaint yourself with him, find out what he knows.’

‘You want me to spy on him?’

‘We don’t know what we’re up against. I don’t know how, but your grandfather seems to have some inside knowledge about the situation and is clearly intent on telling everyone he comes across about it. The exercise is pivotal to safeguarding the security of this nation, classified above top secret. I haven’t even informed the secretary of state I’m consulting you.’