Fly Past – Chapter 2
Later that night down in Lower Hanger 4, Flt Lieutenant Susan sat on an Oil drum in the secluded section, and surveyed the wrecked tail-end of her beloved Euro-Fighter Typhoon.
This did not resemble any shell damage she was familiar with, and after her many years in Weapons Control and Development, there were very few that could argue.
Susan had come late to fighter combat, seeing others of her induction serving in theatres of combat across the world, while she concentrated on Weaponry. Then developments in Optical surgery meant she could overcome the ancient restrictions preventing her taking to the Skies in these multi-million dollar machines and finally accelerate through the ranks to catch up with her friends.
"Penny for them" Commander Kerr stepped up behind her
Yes even her younger brother had gained a rank higher than that which she held now.
"Just trying to put the pieces together" Susan replied without turning around.
"Well it's a big enough puzzle", "What you should be doing is resting, it's going to be a busy day tomorrow, all the fun of the fair at your Court-martial ha-ha"
Susan knew he was just ribbing her; it was only going to be an informal review and de-brief.
"I suppose you're right and yet…" Susan stood up; she felt something, some awkward vibrations through the deck "wait that's not right"
"Hmm" Kerr stamped his boot on the deck, its steel lined soles making a loud clang.
"Just engine noise" and hew turned and marched off, with the parting words, "Get some sleep".
Susan walked the outer gallery, the fresh salt air blasting across her as she left the Hanger and closed the door behind her. At the rail was her tutor, and co-pilot of yesterday. Also hopefully her defence if tomorrow's meeting did turn nasty. She took the rail next to him, watching the slow movement of the waves, and in the distance the dark rising of the coast that held her mysterious valley and protagonist.
"Penny for them" her tutor asked.
"At this rate" Susan replied "I should soon be able to pay-off the repairs bill"
"It won't be a problem" he re-assured, "I was senior. At the end-of the day it will be my pension the costs come out of".
Susan appreciated his light humour, and hoped for both their sakes, that bureaucracy wouldn't take…wait there it was again, that strange vibration. Then nothing, she just turned to speak when out of the corner of her eye Susan thought she saw something in the deep, a wake or deeper darkness within the water.
"Sir"
"No"
"I didn't ask anything" Susan replied
"You did, you said Sir, which in Susan speak is 'I think I'm going to do something that may break one or maybe several rules, will involve weaponry and or possibly the theft of a plane, and would you be ever so kind as to help me, and then cover for me when it all goes wrong' ".
"You got that from Sir?"
"Yep, and the fact I know your file quite well"
"Well you're wrong Sir I wasn't thinking of stealing a plane"
"No?"
"No, I was thinking more along the lines of a helicopter. They have some particularly well-equipped egg beaters on board this tub"
The Valley lay below, free from rain but still mist shrouded, Susan kept high for the moment, observing and noting items of interest, like before the Lake seemed to have switched location again, and this time she saw a winding rail track un-observed on her first visit. A slow pass over the lake did not bring any unwanted attentions, no attacks or surprises. Susan felt a slight twinge of disappointment the previous high of combat and near death experience not yet fully subsided, but maintained a professional detached demeanour. As she turned to make a second sweep, and while composing in her head excuses ready for return to the ship. Susan spotted the ripple on the water. A small disturbance on the lake's surface, heading straight towards the distant Castle. What appeared to be a mast began to rise, breaking the waves.
Suddenly Susan felt she knew what this was, strange images filled her head, Winged horses and an ornately carved wooden Galleon. She fully expected to see Masts and rigging follow up out of the water, but that was madness it couldn't be.
Soon she realised it wasn't, as Breaking the Surface following the short mast, came the dull rectangular shape of a coning tower, followed swiftly by the large
Fat cigar shape of the Submarines Hull. In an instant hatches popped on the deck and three teams of wetsuit clad men scrambled out, launched inflatable surface craft and sped off to the bank where the strangely twisted woods met the Lakes edge.