Red Hawk Rising

the cookhouse and arrange for some sandwiches for the prisoners to be brought over. Make them some warm tea, not hot. We don’t want any unwanted opportunities given to the prisoners.” Turning to Hamilton, he said, “I’ll come with you in your car to show you the way to the mess and also sign you both in as visitors.”
“Thank you. Let’s go. It seems to be all under control here.” They went out to the car. Hamilton nodded to Andy to drive the car and he got into the rear while Carwell got into the front to show the way. As they drove off, Hamilton said, “This is my assistant, Andrew Hill. Andrew, Flight Lieutenant Carwell.” Both men looked at each other and nodded a greeting.
At the Officers’ Mess, a steward met them at the entrance and Carwell signed both of the visitors in. “You might as well go and freshen up while we arrange a late lunch,” he said, pointing in the direction of the toilets. “Come into the dining room afterwards. I’ll leave you and head back to make sure all is well. Come back there when you are ready.”
“You have been very helpful. Thank you very much,” was Hamilton’s reply. He and Andy headed off to the toilets to freshen up. Once in the room, Hamilton checked to make sure that there were no other persons in there. “Andy, at the moment you are with MI5. Understood? Let me have my handgun back before we go out of here.”
Andy grinned. “Understood. That handgun has nice balance. Pity I have to give it back to you.” They both laughed.
It was 14.05 hours and the aircraft for Hamilton and his prisoners taxied to the apron near 92 Squadron hangar. An AVGAS refueller drove up and readied to refuel the aircraft.
Outside the guardhouse, Iain Hamilton was speaking with Andy. “Take the car back to its usual parking spot. Louden will arrange for it to be picked up. He’ll contact you for the keys. You had better go to Ouston first and then you can get back into uniform and also arrange for a pick-up from the hotel. Thanks for a good job done. It was good to have you on the team today. Hopefully, we’ll meet again soon.”
“Thanks for the opportunity,” replied Andy. “It was good to work with you.” They shook hands and Andy climbed into the car and drove out to go back to Newcastle. He chuckled to himself at the thought of a corporal having lunch in the Officers’ Mess. Obviously, Iain Hamilton was prepared to bend the rules for the occasion. That was a good sign. A call came to the guardhouse that the aircraft was ready for flight. Hamilton, the prisoners and an escort drove out to the aircraft. Two of Hamilton’s colleagues were there to act as escort on the flight. Hamilton thanked the RAF policemen for their help and then boarded the aircraft with his prisoners. As they were taxying out, a USAF B-47 bomber came in to land, reminding Hamilton that the Cold War could get quite warm at times. Soon they were airborne and heading south.
Back at the North Shields Fish Quay, Captain Petrovsky was getting a little anxious. The van should have arrived back by now and there was no sign of it. Twenty minutes went by and he was getting concerned. He should be getting underway. Another ten minutes and he would contact the consulate. Going up to the bridge he noticed a sleek grey shape coming in through the piers into the Tyne. It was a Royal Navy patrol boat. Well, he had nothing to worry about. He was here quite legitimately. The Englishman who had come on board and taken Vasiliy’s place was also getting anxious. At almost 15.00 hours, a radio call came in from Major Garasov asking for news. Petrovsky said that there was none. At that moment, the ships chandler’s van drove into the docks and headed toward the Russian trawler. The driver got out and headed up the gangplank. Petrovsky went down to meet him. The driver, who also owned the business, said that there was no sign of the van or of anyone connected with this scheme. He feared something had gone wrong and he wanted his man back off the trawler. Reluctantly, Petrovsky agreed and the man left with the driver and they drove off. Back on the bridge he could see someone on the bridge of the Royal Navy vessel with binoculars focussed on his vessel. Why should a Russian vessel have so much scrutiny? He smiled to himself, knowing the real answer. A few minutes later, Petrovsky’s radio man came up to the bridge with an answer from Moscow. He was to wait for another hour. Since he already had clearance from the port authorities for departure, if there was no news he was to put to sea and go beyond the three-mile limit and standoff fifteen kilometres out. He thanked his radio man and called to his first officer and told him to prepare the ship for departure in an hour. As he completed that, he noticed that the Royal Navy patrol boat was turning and nosing up to some moorings on the South Shields side of the river, just opposite his trawler. On coastal patrol, its skipper had received instructions to divert to the River Tyne and maintain observation on the Russian trawler, Ivor Noventsky, currently moored at North Shields
At the gates to RAF Ouston, Andy checked in and showed his identification. It was now almost 17:00 hours. He was let past and drove to the car park near the barracks. Going into the barrack room, he found Lance and Dan in bed fast asleep. One of the other corporals was busy with preparing a training manual from which others joining the unit would be trained. He explained that the whole team had finished at lunchtime. The officer,