Surprised by her support, Fielding tried to acknowledge Armstrong, but she didn’t look up. He had expected her to confirm the SVR’s involvement, make life more difficult for him.
‘In answer to your question,’ Fielding said, ‘Marchant, one of our most gifted field officers, has been on Salim Dhar’s trail for a number of months. After the terrorist attack on the London Marathon, he wanted to travel to Morocco, where he had good reason to believe that Dhar was in hiding, possibly being shielded by the Moroccan Islamic Combatant Group in the Atlas Mountains. Unfortunately, the Americans insisted that he stayed in Britain. It was a deeply frustrating time for all of us. After a year, we got our way and dispatched him to Marrakech. He was closing in on Dhar when he was exfiltrated by the Russians in an unmarked Mi-8 helicopter. He returned to London and was establishing Dhar’s location through an SVR contact when he himself was seized.’
‘What are the Russians saying?’ the director of GCHQ asked.
‘They’re denying everything,’ the Foreign Secretary replied, glancing at the Prime Minister. ‘But it seems that Dhar had become too hot for Tehran, and Moscow took him on. We’ve protested formally about Marchant’s disappearance and enquired through back channels about Dhar.’
‘Just as the Russians denied that two of their MiG-35s were over Scotland,’ the Prime Minister said. The incursion had made his coalition and its armed forces the laughing stock of NATO, giving him no option but to accept his Defence Secretary’s resignation. The MiGs had turned around and were halfway across the North Sea before the Typhoons were even airborne.
‘We’re working on the assumption that the violation of UK airspace is in some way connected with Dhar,’ Fielding continued. He knew it for a fact, of course, but he could never reveal that Marchant, one of his own agents, had facilitated the incursion in order to meet Dhar. Or that Paul Myers at GCHQ had also been involved. The breach had been put down to a cyber attack by Moscow, one of many in recent months.
‘Which is why this weekend’s RIAT, the Royal International Air Tattoo at Fairford, is top of our list,’ Armstrong said. ‘We’ve also got a Test match at Lord’s against Pakistan, which could be a target, given Dhar’s connections, and WOMAD, the world music festival in Wiltshire, which is less of a security worry, although I gather there was a bit of a disturbance in the Qawwali tent last year.’
The faint murmur of laughter released some of the tension in the room. Armstrong enjoyed being centre stage, Fielding thought. Not everyone appreciated her stabs at humour, or her Johnsonian memos on poor grammar. In another life, she would have been headmistress of a public school. The subcontinent had knocked some of the pomposity out of her manner, but not quite enough.
‘The good news is that Fairford is already a secure site,’ she continued, ‘with a perimeter fence protected by the Americans.’
‘The bad news?’ the Prime Minister asked. Armstrong looked across at the director of the Defence Intelligence Staff.
‘Washington is using the air show to showboat a big arms deal with Tbilisi,’ he said, taking over from Armstrong. ‘They’re currently equipping the Georgian air force with C130 cargo planes to replace their ageing fleet of Antonovs. The US has also agreed to lease them F-16 fighter jets to replace their SU-25s, most of which were shot down by the Russians in the 2008 South Ossetia war.’
‘An arms deal that Moscow is obviously far from happy about,’ the Foreign Secretary said.
‘Given the MiG débâcle, shouldn’t we have our Typhoons and Tornados airborne all weekend?’ the Prime Minister asked. ‘Over Lord’s, Gloucestershire and Wiltshire?’
‘If only that were possible,’ the Chief of the Defence Staff said.
‘How long’s the show?’ the PM continued, ignoring the jibe. The RAF was locked in acrimonious discussions with the coalition about cuts to Britain’s fighter-jet capability.
‘Seven and a half hours of flying time.’
‘Do what you can,’ the PM said, looking at his watch.
‘The US base commander at Fairford is an old friend,’ the Chief of the Defence Staff said. ‘I’ll speak to him. Personally, I think it’s highly unlikely the Russians would try anything, particularly on a weekend when there’s so much hardware on the runway. The F-22 Raptor will be in town. The violation of our airspace, while deeply regrettable, was a one-off, a distraction. A Test match against Pakistan at the home of cricket is a far more probable target.’
‘I agree,’ Ian Denton said. There was a newfound confidence in his voice that surprised Fielding, who was sitting next to him. ‘RIAT’s the largest military air show in Europe. It’s an American-run base, and security is always very tight. The Test at Lord’s strikes me as a more likely target.’
Denton might be right — perhaps the MiGs were just a distraction — but Fielding doubted it. He’d been weighing up the possible options ever since Armstrong had alerted him to the air show. Marchant had been asked to help with the MiGs, an involvement that nobody else around the COBRA table knew about. Now he had been taken to join Dhar, wherever he was. In Fairford, with its American hosts and Georgian guests, Dhar and the Russians had found a mutual target.
93
‘You are only carrying two Vympel and two LGBs, so we’ve loaded you up with four 1,500-litre drop tanks, two under each wing,’ Sergei said over the r/t to Dhar, who was in the rear cockpit of the SU-25, where the instructor normally sat. It was raised a little, giving him a good view of Marchant, who was strapped into the seat ahead, listening in on the conversation. The avionics and weapons suites were identical in both cockpits — full dual control — but Sergei had disabled them in the front.
Marchant had met Sergei only briefly. Dhar spoke warmly of him, but the Russian had shunned eye contact as he had inspected the plane’s undercarriage in the hangar. Afterwards, when he handed Marchant an ill-fitting flying suit and helmet, he had again avoided his gaze. There was a haunted look about him, Marchant had thought.
‘Distance to target is 2,875 kilometres,’ Dhar said, reading from a sheet of waypoints in the clear-panel leg pocket of his flying suit. ‘And the
‘The extra fuel and a good tailwind should get you there,’ said Sergei.
‘We can be martyrs together,’ Dhar had joked, making no mention of a return journey.
Earlier, Dhar had revealed their route — north into the Barents Sea, south-west down the coast of Norway into the North Sea, and then west into UK airspace — but there had been no talk of the target. Whatever it was, timing was evidently crucial. Dhar had checked and double-checked windspeeds on the journey, going through the waypoint ETAs several times with Sergei.
Marchant had already clocked the two missiles on the wings’ hard points. Air-to-air suggested that Dhar expected airborne company, but why not a full complement? And now Sergei had mentioned two laser-guided bombs for a ground target. It was a tailor-made suite of weapons. But for what?
Marchant glanced around the cramped cockpit at the array of dials. The Jet Provost he had once flown in had been privately owned by an ex-RAF friend of his father. Taking off from Kemble airfield, near the family home in Tarlton in the Cotswolds, had felt like rising into the sky on rails: surprisingly smooth and steady. He suspected the SU-25 would be a rougher ride.
As the plane began to roll forward, Marchant peered through the mist at the godforsaken scenery. Dhar had taxied to the far end of the main runway. A light drizzle was falling. All Marchant could see was pine trees. The control tower was a long way off, barely visible in the murky distance. Halfway down the runway on the right were two MiG-29s. He guessed that they must be on permanent standby, like the Typhoons at RAF Leuchars and Coningsby that would be scrambled if Dhar showed up on the radar. Then he noticed the armed guards, dotted about on the periphery of the trees, out of sight of any US reconnaissance satellites. He had only spotted the two guards outside the hangar door before. Security had been ramped up for their departure.
