Pandemic

appeared to be a small silvery tail dangling from it. As he peered more closely, he realized that this tail was actually a handcuff and immediately he recognized the bulky briefcase. The handcuff, which had presumably once been fastened around the wrist of one of the corpses below it, suggested that the case contained something valuable. Light, certainly, but valuable.

Professionally conscious of the passage of time, Aristides checked his chronometer and backed out of the aircraft’s cabin, now holding the briefcase in his left hand. He wanted to try to identify the aircraft itself, if he could, before having to surface.

Aristides secured the case to the line holding the lifting air bag, then swam back to the remains of the fuselage. He noticed what appeared to be part of a registration number visible near the rear end of the cabin, on the starboard side, and rubbed his gloved hand over it until he could make out the first letter. He couldn’t interpret any of the following digits until he’d scraped off some of the marine growth with his diving knife. That revealed three numbers which, together with the initial letter ‘N’ – Spiros instantly interpreted this as the Greek capital letter nu – he wrote on his waterproof pad. It looked to him as if there was another number, perhaps even two numbers, but it or they were indecipherable without shifting more growth.

Aristides wondered if the registration would be repeated on the other side of the cabin, and swam around to check. But when he spotted the jagged hole in the fuselage, he forgot all about checking numbers.

Southern Adriatic Sea

There was a brief silence on the frequency, then the squadron Senior Pilot, flying Tiger One, responded.

‘Tiger Two from Leader. Can you make it back to Mother?’

‘Negative,’ Richter snapped. ‘I need a long concrete runway to put this down on, not a steel postage stamp.’

‘Roger. Go to Guard and check in with Homer. Suggest you steer two four zero initially. I’ll accompany you. Snakes, Tiger Leader turning port and following Two. See you back on board.’

Richter was already in the turn onto south-west, as he switched frequency and selected the emergency code 7700 on his Secondary Surveillance Radar transponder. This setting generates an unmistakable, and absolutely unmissable, symbol on air traffic control radar displays.

‘Homer, this is Pan aircraft Tiger Two on Guard.’

On all warships, the Operations Room is a darkly colourful, and invariably noisy, environment. The illumination is derived from the reddish glow of radar screens, from small reading lights mounted on the consoles, from the myriad multi-coloured tell-tales and illuminated controls. The noise is caused by the constant chatter on Group Lines, intercoms and radio frequencies as specialist officers and ratings do their work.

The Operations Room on Five Deck is in every sense the nerve centre of the Invincible. Around the perimeter, information is gathered from the ship’s own sensors – principally radar and sonar – and from sensors mounted on other vessels and aircraft that transmit to the ship using secure data-links. Here the Air Picture Compilers track and identify all airborne radar contacts, while Surface and Sub-surface Compilers perform identical functions for their specific areas of responsibility.

The collated data provide the Warfare Officers, working at consoles in the centre of the room, with a complete picture of the air, surface and underwater environment around the warship, and enable them to act or react as the situation warrants. Surprisingly to the uninitiated, during any kind of action or alert the Captain will be found sitting on a swivel chair virtually in the centre of the Operations Room, and he will direct all aspects of the ship’s activities from there. No longer does he fight battles from the bridge, as was the norm during the Second World War. Today, instead, a seaman officer will take the bridge watch, to visually ensure the safety of the ship and to check that helm and engine revolution orders don’t run the vessel aground or into a collision.

Inside the Operations Room, close to the port-side door and beneath the printed title ‘Homer’, is a radar console manned by a specialist Air Traffic Control officer whose principal responsibility is the safe recovery of the ship’s organic air assets. The Military Emergency (Guard) frequency – 243.0 megahertz – is monitored whenever the ship is at sea, but is generally patched through an Ops Room speaker rather than listened to by Homer, who normally has more than enough traffic on his primary aircraft recovery frequency.

As soon as he heard the Pan call – ‘Pan’ being the lower of the two states of aircraft emergency, the more serious one being ‘Mayday’ – Lieutenant John Moore leaned back in his seat and looked up at the Radio Direction Finder display mounted above his console, simultaneously selected Guard on the frequency selector panel, and pressed the transmit key.

‘Pan aircraft Tiger Two, this is Homer. You’re loud and clear. State the nature of your emergency.’

‘Tiger Two has a rough-running engine and is requesting diversion ashore. Present heading is two four zero at Flight Level three five zero, squawking emergency. Tiger One is in company to relay as required.’

‘Roger, all copied, and you’re identified by your emergency squawk. You’re forty-two miles off the coast, and estimate you’ll be feet dry in about six minutes. Standby for airfield information.’

The moment the call had been heard on Guard, Homer’s radar console had become the focus of most of the activity in the Operations Room. His assistant had pulled out the relevant en route chart and the en route supplement covering Italy and was scanning the ERC, looking for the closest airfield that could take the Sea Harrier.

Moore’s next priority was to shed his other traffic so that he could concentrate on the emergency aircraft. In fact, he had nothing else on frequency at that moment, but he was expecting Snake One and Two to check in imminently. To pre-empt them, he called the Air Warfare Officer on Group Line Six.

‘AWO, Homer. Snakes should be on recovery soon, and I don’t want them on my frequency until we’ve sorted out Tiger Two. Can you raise the ASaC Sea King and get Snakes to call Director for recovery?’

‘Already doing it.’

‘Thanks.’

Then Moore looked at the chart his assistant was holding, glanced across at the airfield details listed in the ERS, nodded and transmitted again.

‘Tiger Two, Homer. Suggested diversion airfield is Brindisi-Casale. Runway is eight thousand six hundred feet in length, airfield location approximately one nine zero range fifty from your present position.’

‘Roger,’ Richter said. ‘Turning port onto one nine zero and starting a cruise descent.’

‘Initial Contact Frequency for Brindisi-Casale Approach Control is three seven six decimal eight, but suggest you call them first on Guard.’

‘Roger.’

Commander (Air), who’d been up in Flyco when Richter made the Pan call, had immediately left his position and arrived at that moment in the Operations Room.

‘Where is he?’ he demanded.

Moore glanced round then pointed over to the southwestern side of his radar screen. ‘Here, sir. He’s about to call Brindisi.’

As Moore spoke, Richter’s voice echoed round the Ops Room from the Guard speaker. ‘Brindisi, Brindisi, this is Pan aircraft Tiger Two.’

In the Operations Room, a long silence followed, because the ship was out of radio range of the airfield, but Richter and Splot in Tiger One heard the reply clearly, and the Senior Pilot then relayed the airfield’s response to the Invincible.

‘Pan aircraft Tiger Two, this is Brindisi Approach. What is your emergency, and what is your position, level, aircraft type and number of persons on board?’ The Italian’s English was perfectly clear and understandable – English being the international language of aviation and air traffic control – but with a quite unmistakable accent.

‘Brindisi, Tiger Two is a British Royal Navy single-crew Harrier aircraft with a rough-running engine. Position approximately forty miles north of you, in descent passing Flight Level two zero zero.’

‘Roger, Tiger Two. What are your intentions?’

‘Request navigation assistance and a straight-in approach to a priority landing.’

‘Roger. You are identified by your position report and secondary radar return. Steer one eight five and continue descent to Flight Level one zero zero. Standby to copy the weather and airfield missed approach procedure.’