11:10 (GMT)
Thursday, September 5, 1940
Base parachute maintenance shop
R.A.F. Northolt
Warrant Officer second class George Culvert stopped in front of one of the hangar’s walls, showing proudly to Nancy the work that had kept his two men and six women up most of the night. The hangar was filled with suspended parachutes drying up or awaiting repair. The one on the wall, though, was distinctly different from the others: for one, it was of rectangular shape instead of the classic round canopy form; it was also made of a much darker shade fabric.
“It was actually much easier to make this than I expected: rectangular panels are simpler to sew than the regular pie-shaped ones. As you requested, it also has a larger total surface area than the regular models, with small directional slots in it as per your design drawing. The second one will be finished shortly after lunch.”
“Excellent! Good work, Warrant Culvert. Now, if you can call in your two parachute folders, I will show them how to fold this new model. If this works as I expect it, our downed pilots will have a much better chance of escaping injury on landing and will be able to choose somewhat their landing point.”
“That, I believe, would be very much appreciated by our pilots, Captain. I’ll be back in a minute.”
While waiting for Culvert to return with his men, Nancy examined in detail the new parachute: it was an exact copy of the model of directionnal parachute she used regularly for her skydiving jumps back in 2012. She could not detect any manufacturing flaw in it, to her satisfaction. It took her forty minutes to explain to Culvert’s men the folding of the parachute, along with one demonstration and two practices. She was pleased to see Culvert note down in detail her explanations during her demonstration. Promising to return after lunch to practice folding again on the second parachute, she used Culvert’s telephone to call Doug Wilson back at the intelligence section.
“Doug? Nancy here! I’m at the parachute shop and I would like to test the new model I told you about, this afternoon if possible. There is this old biplane sitting near the maintenance hangars: do you know about it?”
“Sure I do! It’s an Avro 504 twin-seater and it is used from time to time for training and for liaison flights. I believe that Air Commodore Nicholls is quite fond of it: it must remind him of his own flying days as a fighter pilot. I suppose that you would like to have the use of it, along with a pilot, for your tests this afternoon?”
“Right! If you could arrange that for, say, 15:00 hours and have it available for two or three short flights, I would appreciate it very much, Doug”`
“I’ll jump on the phone right away. See you at lunch!”
14:50 (GMT)
Maintenance hangars
R.A.F. Northolt
Nancy was shocked when she saw that her assigned pilot for the tests was none other than Air Commodore Nicholls himself.
“Sir, this was not necessary. You are more needed at the sector operations room.”
“Bah, humbug! The day’s action is winding down and, besides, I love flying this old bird. I also needed some fresh air. By the way, Captain, congratulations: Operation Counterpunch is on!”
“Hot damn! Yes!”
Nicholls watched in amusement as she danced with joy besides the Avro 504. Warrant Culvert and his two servicemen were also watching, a weighed duffel bag attached to a parachute waiting by their side to be loaded in the rear seat of the biplane. The second new model parachute was ready to be strapped on Nancy. When she calmed down, Nicholls ordered one of the servicemen to take place in the rear seat. The duffel bag and its parachute was then put in his lap. Nicholls reviewed the procedure with Nancy as he performed his pre-flight checks.
“Alright, first we drop the dummy using lanyard opening from about one thousand feet. If it opens properly and falls at a safe speed, I then come back to pick you up for a live trial, correct?”
“Correct, sir! In that case, I will ask you to go up to 10,000 feet before dropping me over the base, so I can test thoroughly the handling of this parachute. I will freefall for the first 5,000 feet before opening the parachute, so don’t worry if you don’t see it open right away.”
Nicholls looked at her with genuine concern.
“Captain, you are very precious to us now. Isn’t this too risky?”
“Sir, I was doing this as a hobby back in 2012. Besides, I folded the parachute myself. If this works, your pilots will stand a much better chance to land in one piece if they have to bail out.”
“True! God knows our fighter pilots are about the most precious commodity in England these days. If all goes well today, I will make sure that this new model of parachute is given to all our fighter pilots. O.K., here we go!”
Its engine started manually by a mechanic, the biplane slowly rolled away from the hangar before picking up speed and taking off. It took Nicholls a good five minutes to get to his planned altitude, minutes that felt like hours to Nancy. The bag was finally dropped, with the parachute opening seconds later. To her joy, everything went well. Culvert was impressed as he watched the unguided parachute slowly fall down in wide circles.
“By jove, it really flies smoothly and the forward speed on it is surprising. You should be able to choose your landing point pretty accurately, miss.”
“I’m counting on it, Warrant.”
Culvert then left and jumped with his second airman in an old truck, racing towards the probable landing point of the parachute to retrieve it. He was back at about the same time that the biplane rolled back to a stop near Nancy. Nicholls was all smiles.
“This is going even better than I expected. Let’s do it for real.”
Helped by Culvert’s men, Nancy put on a thick insulating suit over her combat uniform, then strapped on the second parachute before putting on her kevlar helmet, circa 2012, plus a pair of goggles. She jumped in the rear seat, all excited by the anticipated thrill of the jump.
“Warrant Culvert, you can go now and deploy the landing spot marker as we discussed. See you soon!”
They then exchanged salutes as the Avro 504 started rolling again.
15:20 (GMT)
1 R.C.A.F. Squadron dispersal hut
R.A.F. Northolt
The pilots slouching around the dispersal hut were watching with curiosity the goings of the old biplane and commenting on the strangely shaped parachute that had been dropped from it earlier, when a truck approached from the hangars and stopped besides the hut. Warrant Culvert and an airman jumped out and immediately started fixing solidly on the ground with the help of stakes an orange X-shaped marker. Flight Lieutenant Durling, the senior pilot present at the dispersal hut, walked to the warrant, who stood at attention and saluted him.
“What are you doing here, Warrant? Marking our hut as a target for the next German raid?”
“No, sir! This is for the trial of a new model of parachute and it has been authorized by Air Commodore Nicholls, sir.”
“What is the marker for, guiding the parachutist to here?”
“Yes sir! That new parachute can be controled during its fall and I expect that the jumper will be able to land right on the marker.”
“From what altitude will he jump?”
“Ten thousand feet, sir.”
Durling, along with the other pilots, broke into laughs of derision.
“You expect someone to jump from high altitude and do a pinpoint landing? I bet you that he will be no closer than a thousand yards from this marker.”
Culvert grinned from ear to ear.
“Are you ready to put money on this, sir? A shilling that the jumper touches the marker.”
“Are you daft? You want to lose money that badly? Alright, I’ll raise your shilling to ten shillings that he will land no less than two hundred yards from the marker.”
Another pilot also put in a bet against the jumper, followed by his companions. Culvert was soon holding biddings worth over twelve pounds. He smiled to himself at the faces those pilots were about to make.
Nicholls had to yell to be heard over the wind and the engine noise of the open cockpits of the old biplane.
“We are now at 10,000 feet. Can you see the orange marker?”
“Yes, easily. I will unbuckle my seat belt, then you will roll on your back, so that I will drop away. O.K.?”
“Understood! I will follow your fall from a safe distance. Good luck!”
At her thumbs up signal, he rolled the biplane on its back. Nancy fell smoothly out of her seat. Keeping his eyes on her, Nicholls dove behind her and followed from about 400 yards away. The low stalling speed and superb handling of the old Avro 504 made that relatively easy. He was amazed at the way Nancy used her arms and legs to actually control the direction of her fall: he had never heard of this being done before. To his immense relief, her parachute opened as planned at around 5,000 feet. After making sure that she was in full control, Nicholls then left her and proceeded to land close to the dispersal hut. Flight Lieutenant Durling met him as he climbed out of the cockpit. The Canadian’s eyes bulged when he recognised the air commodore.
“Sir? I didn’t know you were the pilot. This trial must be really important.”
“Quite, young lad. If it works well, we could then equip all our pilots with this new parachute and give you a fighting chance if you have to bail out. Now, let’s go see how the jumper is doing.”
They walked to the dispersal hut with their heads craned upwards. The parachute was now at about 2,000 feet of altitude and 400 yards to the south of the hut and its marker, slowly dropping in a large spiral. Durling smiled with glee.
“Nice try but he won’t make it near the marker. You better get out your money, Warrant.”
“It ain’t over yet, sir.”
The parachute suddenly stopped spiraling and headed in a straight line directly towards the marker. Durling felt sweat on his forehead as the parachutist approached on a controled glide path.
“Christ, he’s going to make it to the marker!” Exclaimed one of the pilots. Effectively, under the cheers of Nicholls, Culvert and Airman Smithers, the parachutist overflew the marker, touching it by simply tapping the tip of a boot on it and landing two feet past it in a remarkably smooth touchdown, running to a halt. The pilots were left stunned: they just had bet away over two days’ pay. They then all ran to the jumper to congratulate him. Durling, trying to forget his loss, extended his hand.
“That was an incredible jump, man. Good show! I… “
His voice strangled as Nancy took her helmet and goggles off, feeling like she was on top of the world.
“Hi guys! Can I drop in for tea?”
The discomfited pilots had to borrow money to go drink at the pub that night. Sean Brady laughed with genuine amusement at their story: that young woman was getting more incredible every day. He wished to himself that he could end up in life with a woman like her at his side.
20:15 (Berlin Time)
Friday, September 6, 1940
Abwehr headquarters, Berlin
Admiral Wilhelm Canaris handed over two files to the man dressed in civilian clothes that had just sat in a chair in front of his desk. Klaus Manheim was about his best agent and one of the very few Germans to have gone on a mission in Great Britain and returned safely. The fact that Manheim used a completely separate network run by Irishmen, which used only written means of communications while in England, probably had a lot to do with his success.
“The first report is from the Luftwaffe, complaining that the British must have been informed in detail and in advance of one of their raids last Wednesday. Up to now, we have been unable to find the source of the presumed leak. The second report was just received today via Dublin. It’s from one of your agents running a pub outside R.A.F. Northolt. What he says in it baffled me, to say the least.”
Canaris let Manheim read carefully both reports. The first one made Klaus sneer in disgust.
“This one reeks of treason. The orders for the raid had been transmitted by ground courrier, so that it is impossible that the British would have learned of it by intercepting and decoding a radio transmission, even if they could do it. The way they knew all the details of the raid means either that a staff officer of the Luftwaffe works for the British or, more plausibly, that an enemy agent has infiltrated our headquarters out there. Either way, it sounds very bad.”
“Agreed! What do you think of the second report?”
Klaus smiled and read back aloud a passage of Sean Brady’s report.
“Approximately 182 centimeters tall, athletic and very pretty, black hair, green eyes; shot down a Junkers 88 with a machinegun; expert in hand-to-hand combat; speaks many languages, including German and French; parachute-qualified; very bright. Admiral, if you would have been a marriage counselor, I would have said that you had just found the woman of my dreams.”
Canaris smiled at the joke, then became dead serious.
“What about the part about her being a time traveler from the year 2012?”
“I would say that our good Sean had drank too much of his own beer, Admiral.”
“What if his report was correct?”
Klaus’s smile also disappeared. He looked at Canaris hesitantly.
“You can’t be serious, Admiral.”
“No? Then read this! It just came in from Dublin by top priority air dispatch: it seems that your Sean Brady just broke one of his own security rules and made a direct phone call to his Irish contact in Dublin. He claims that the information could not wait.”
Klaus took the sheet of paper and read it with growing astonishment.
“An electronic flight simulator? A parachute that permits landing smack on a marker after a 3,000 meter jump?”
He looked back at Canaris in disbelief.
“Can those things be done by us or anybody else today?”
“The parachute, maybe. The simulator, definitely not. My opinion is that this woman may possibly come from the future, but I can’t act on such wild, unproven suppositions. I want you to leave as soon as possible for R.A.F. Northolt, via Ireland, and find the truth about her.”
“And what if this is all true?”
“Then we must get access to her knowledge. If you can capture her, you can be assured of all the support I can give you.”
Klaus suddenly felt sick to his stomach. He read again the woman’s description in Sean’s report before looking back at the admiral.
“This young woman deserves better than to die under slow tortures, Admiral. What if she is really from the future and capturing her is impossible?”
“Then you will have to kill her. The British must not be allowed to be able to use the services of such a person.”