Chapter EighteenDespite elaborate preparations at Heathrow, Air Force One diverted to Brize Norton. The RAF base was infinitely quieter, with only a limited media presence. Of course, security chiefs were always trying ways to thwart potential terrorists, but this time there’d been a warning from a trusted source.
Bob Shaw was waiting on the apron to greet his friend Sam Gilmore. Initially it would be Mr President and Mr Prime Minister, but once settled in the limo it would be Bob and Sam.
The whine of the engines had slowly died and Air Force One was now at rest like some sleek bird, passive yet completely certain of its supper. Slowly and deliberately security staff moved closer to take up their positions. Only a fool or a fanatic would dare to be inquisitive! The door opened and there
