Danger Close by Charlie Flowers Read Free Book Online

masts standing silently in the gloom, picked out by their red warning lights.
    I spoke. ‘Wouldn’t it be tricky getting a plane in and out among these masts?’
    Fuzz shrugged. ‘AFSOC pilots are among the best in the business. They’d use night-vision goggles and thermal imaging cameras. And the runway we’re standing on here, which we’ll call West North-South, has a good 1200 feet from the main blockhouses. A Skytruck can take off in that distance, easy.’
    ‘Better than you?’
    ‘They have their moments.’
    She looked around. ‘Hah. See? They may have packed up, but look. They left a vital piece of kit up.’
    I followed her gaze. Sure enough, there was a bright orange windsock on a high pole. It hung there like a hanged man.
    I shivered. It was eerie out here. The red lights in the gloom and the deserted base were giving me the creeps. I suddenly remembered the screenshot I had taken from Joe’s laptop. God, was my brain going with all the stress? Switch back on, Riz, I chided myself. I showed the photo to her.
    ‘One Leasing… Squawk 5331… I’ve heard of these guys. Spooky as heck.’
    She suddenly grabbed my shoulder.
    ‘RIZBHAI! I know where to go! I know exactly where to go to find the flight plans for this plane!’
    ‘You do?’
    ‘Oh yeah. Crawley, near Gatwick. I even know the boss there through work. He’ll be pleased to see me, too…’
    She grinned. ‘First thing tomorrow. Coming?’
    ‘Wouldn’t miss it for the world. Where you parked, Fuzz?’
    ‘Behind your car, where all the sheep are. Race you back.’

 
     
    9
     
    We both got back to my flat at around 9.30pm. Neither of us were in the mood to cook so I rang Perveen’s for a takeout. Fuzz went straight to her laptop and Skype and started calling in favours and hitting pilots’ forums. I scooped up my doormat mail and got the plates out for us. Busy morning ahead tomorrow. There was a postcard from Asma and Bambi, and a letter from St Andrews University terrorism studies course. I had to complete a module. I laughed inwardly. Oh the irony. I had fallen a bit behind lately, what with being shot at by everyone from the Syrian Army to mad wahaabis and then tied to a massive van-bomb. I was sure they’d understand.
    An hour or so later, me and Fuzz were deep into our various laptop excursions. The takeout had arrived. Behind us on my wall TV the Parliament Channel was showing George Galloway giving the other side an almighty bollocking about the last couple of months. Go on George, I thought to myself.
    Fuzz looked up. ‘Sorted. The main thing I’m doing tomorrow is looking at Iron Maiden’s Boeing loadout down in ATC Lasham. But before that, we have an appointment at Chrome Flightplan in Crawley.’
    I nodded back at her. ‘OK ukhti. By the way - how are the rest of the girls getting on?’
    Fuzz looked up again and seemed to be sorting through a mental Rolodex. After a minute she replied.‘Duckie was last heard of in a known Combat 18/Infidels pub in Stoke-on-Trent. That's a bit of a tightrope. Calamity and Sadie are on a sniper course in the States, down at the bloke from YouTube's range. What's his face, the guy you laugh at... Professional Russian? They're brushing up on the non-shooting bits. Y'know, sniper-as-reconnaissance.’
    I pulled her up on that.‘He's not actually Russian and hang on a minute... what? Has she still not dropped yet? Pregnant? In that heat? She's nuts.’
    ‘...And we got the mother of all bollockings from Maryam's mum. You can imagine the phone calls. Why was her daughter running around being shot when she should be doing her homework etc. she's so grounded etc.’
    ‘Where did she end up that night?’
    ‘We plonked her in UCL A and E. She wouldn't have said anything, she hates cops’, said Fuzz blithely.
    ‘Jesus, you are some tough chicas.’
    ‘Wouldn't have it any other way... ’
    ‘And Roadrunner?’
    ‘You'll like this. She put a plank on the accelerator of the fire appliance