Lear Jet over UK Air Space
9 -55 p.m.
April 17th
On the Lear jet the teams had hardly had time to settle, all of them nervous, fidgety, chatting for distraction, when the pilot called seat belts on for the descent to Liverpool airport. The Jet bumped down and being a government flight and internal the two DIC roving teams for work in Liverpool were quickly on their way to their set destination in the car of the DIC man whose watch included the airport.
Jack and Beaumont stayed on the Lear jet waiting for their plane’s slot in the take off queue. It was close to ten o’clock, one hour to their rendezvous in Perth when the jet once more slammed them into the seats as it took off.
Finally less self conscious with only Beaumont there David called his wife. In spite of being in a plane and travelling fast the satellite phone was clear. It rang for a short while and his wife answered.
“Hello?”
“Hi sweetheart it’s Davy, did I wake you?”
“No I’ve been waiting for your call. Conor was waiting too, but he’s long since asleep.”
David felt the good father’s guilt pang flush through him and all of a sudden the distance from his home and family swamped him with the sense of a world all too big and unknown.
“I’m sorry. It’s been that kind of a day.”
“What’s the room like?”
“Nice enough… but… I’m on a small passenger jet heading for Perth.”
“What?”
“There’s a situation, I can’t tell you about it, but we’re on the way to Perth.”
“Dear god! No wonder you haven’t called.”
“I’ll call you tomorrow. They might need this line to contact us.”
“Okay. Hey if you get the chance drop in on your father, Glasgow’s not that far.”
“Good idea. I love you.”
“I love you too, especially now you’re a member of the jet set.”
“Kiss Conor and pat the bump for me.”
“Okay. I miss you.”
“I miss you too. I’d better go.”
“By love.”
“Goodnight sweetie.”
McKie held the unconnected phone to his face a moment a huge sigh building in his chest.
“Mind if I call my wife.”
“No Beaumont, sorry, that’s the worst I’ve ever felt in my life.”
“So far eh?”
Beaumont dialled his number. David turned away and went to the small toilet. How did a man become so tied to his little tribe? He looked in the mirror, feeling the sting of tears begin their gathering in his eyes; he splashed water on his face and scrunched his face into the soft white towel. What was he doing here? A DIC man was missing presumed dead. One of the men they were hunting had probably killed him. What if he, McKie, were killed? What if his family never saw him again? He gritted his teeth, pushed air out his nose and lowered the towel staring straight into his own eyes in the mirror. No it wasn’t going to happen. He’d make sure. He had a choice here. His father once told him that the coward dies a thousand times, but the brave man only dies once. He nodded to himself, focus, clear your head, forget fear and do the job. You’ll be home.
When he got back to his seat Beaumont was on the phone still except that David could tell it was Fulton on the other end. Beaumont was being briefed. He ended the call with an ‘okay Jack.’
“What’s the plan?”
Beaumont began briefing him on the instructions that Jack had given him.