14 Biggles Goes To War (3 page)

A glance over his shoulder revealed the other two machines close behind. They had opened out somewhat in coming through the cloud, so he held on his course just below the 'ceiling' , watching the ground intently. He was just beginning to get worried when a broad river came into view, and he grunted his satisfaction, for this was the landmark for which he had been waiting. Reaching it, he turned sharply to the left, and after following its winding course for about ten miles, struck off again to the east over fairly open country, scrutinizing methodically every inch of the ground with the thoroughness of long experience. A few minutes later his patience was rewarded when a :mall white circle, set in the centre of a large, open stretch of parkland, came into view. Not far away to the north the grey pile of a big country house rose above a group of trees. Signalling to the others that he was going down, he throttled right back and glided towards the circle, for, in accordance with their prearranged plan, he was to be the first to land.

His steady eyes regarded the landing-ground with satisfaction, but, at the same time, at the back of his mind there was a vague uneasiness which he could not dispel. Not a soul was in sight, and this, far from allaying his fears, only served to strengthen them. Why was nobody

there, he wondered. Their arrival was expected, in which case it was only reasonable to suppose that some one - the Baroness or her servants - would be there to receive them.

As slowly as he dared, he glided on towards the white circle, his whole mind concentrated on the field, its surface and surroundings. At a height of not more than twenty feet he acted as though he was going to land, but at the last moment he turned, and opening his engine, roared low along the boundary of the unofficial aerodrome.

Suddenly he caught his breath and stared hard. Had he been mistaken? He crossed the field and raced back along the opposite side. No, there was no mistake. Right across the green turf, at intervals of about fifty yards and not more than two feet above the ground, had been stretched a series of wires. The field had been 'trapped', and any machine attempting to land on it would inevitably turn a somersault. But for the fact that the wire was new it would have been impossible to see it, and even so, had it not been for his particularly careful examination, which would not, of course, have occurred in the ordinary way, the trap would have escaped observation, if for no other reason than that it was hardly to be expected. Biggles's face was grim and slightly pale as he zoomed high to where the others were circling, waiting to follow him in. They closed up, goggles raised, eyes questioning, but he only shook his head and turned away to the north.

Glancing down as he sped over the far boundary of the field, he saw something that brought a slow smile over his face: a dozen or more men, most of them in uniform, had run out from a clump of trees and were staring upwards. 'I'd give a lot for the pleasure of shooting you up,' he thought savagely as he regarded them; but then he dismissed the matter from his mind, and set off on a new course, deliberately keeping low so that the men on the aerodrome could not mark his

direction. Glancing over his shoulder, he noted with satisfaction that the other two machines were following in their proper places.

It was nearly dark, and he was running on the last of his petrol, the gravity tank , when a main road appeared ahead. He followed this a little way, and then, choosing a field large enough for a safe landing, he glided in and came to a standstill in the heavy shadow of a belt of trees on the far side. He switched off, and jumped down as the other machines landed.

`What's the idea?' cried Algy, as he and Ginger ran up.

`The field was trapped,' Biggles told him shortly.

It was not necessary to explain to Algy what a 'trap' was; his face expressed his horror and consternation. `Phew!' he whistled. 'The dirty dogs.'

`How was it trapped?' asked Ginger.

Ìt was wired to catch our wheels and throw us over as we glided in,' Biggles told him.

`Do you mean to say there are people in the world who would do a thing like that?' cried Ginger incredulously.

Biggles laughed bitterly. 'That's nothing to what some people would do; maybe you'll discover that one day.'

Algy was looking concerned. 'Now we are in a nice mess,' he muttered. 'We can't go on without juice, and I was down to my last pint when you dropped in here. How do you propose to get umpteen gallons of petrol without attracting attention?'

`You'll see.'

`Do you mean to tell me that you think you can?'

Ì made provision for that before I left England.'

`You did? You didn't say anything to me.'

'It wasn't necessary. When I did it, it was merely a precautionary measure.'

`When you did what?'

Ì sent a cable to Jerry Banham, in Weisheim. He used to be in 40 Squadron, you remember; he's the Shell Company's agent in this part of the world now. I asked him to bring a load of petrol along this road to-night, and if he saw three machines flying low to follow them as fast as he could. I saw a lorry parked beside the road as we came along; it started off in the same direction as we were going, so I'm hoping old Jerry hasn't let us down. This is him, coming down the road now, I'll bet. Come on.'

With one accord they all ran down the hedge and reached the main road just as a lorry came abreast of them. Biggles let out a yell. The lorry stopped with a grinding of brakes, and a well-dressed man jumped down from the driver's seat.

`What cheer, Jerry?' grinned Biggles.

`Not much,' was the instant reply. `What do you think you're trying to do - get me the sack?'

`Nothing like that,' Biggles assured him. `We're in a jam, old lad.'

`What's the trouble?'

`We've got a contract to deliver these machines to Maltovia. Unfortunately, there are some nasty people who don't want them to get there - never mind why. We had a landing-ground fixed up not far from here, but as I was gliding in I noticed that some one had been thoughtful enough to trap it with cross-wires.'

`The low-down skunk!'

Ìt doesn't matter. I had a feeling that something of the sort might happen, and that was why I sent you the cable. The point is, have you brought us some juice?'

'What do you suppose I came here for - to admire the landscape?'

'Good man! Have you got a hose and a pump?' 'They're part of the lorry.'

'Fine! Then we'll get the machines down here right away.'

Just a minute,' cried Jerry. 'We don't want to be spotted. I'd better bring the lorry into the field. Can I see the machines up there, under those trees?'

'All right; go and open the gate, one of you. I'll come up.'

In a few minutes the lorry stood beside the machines, the end of its long hose in Biggles's main tank. By this time it was quite dark, so there was little risk of their being seen.

'How long are you going to stay here?' inquired Jerry. 'Not longer than is necessary, you can bet your life on

that.'

'You've got some funny country in front of you; you won't risk it in the dark, will you?'

'Not unless we have to. When we get the tanks full I shall stand by, and if things remain quiet, stay here till dawn. If, on the other hand, people start nosing about, I shall push off and chance it.'

'Good enough; I don't think you can do better than that,' returned Jerry.

Little more was said. In just under an hour the task of refuelling the machines was complete; Biggles paid for the petrol out of his own pocket, and the friend who had stood them in such good service prepared to depart. Ginger went down to the gate, and finding the road deserted, called that all was clear.

Jerry got back on to his lorry. 'Cheerio, Biggles.'

`Cheerio, Jerry, and many thanks.'

The heavy vehicle departed, bumping across the field, and presently the sound of its engine died away in the distance. Ginger rejoined the others, and helped to pull the machines in line, facing the open field ready for a quick take-off should it become necessary.

`Well, that's that,' murmured Biggles, when this had been done. 'We look like having an uncomfortable night, but you can take it in turns to sleep if you like. Personally, I shan't trouble; I shall get away at the first streak of dawn. The sooner we are out of this country the better. I don't like it. The enemy know we are about; there is no longer any doubt about that or the aerodrome would not have been wired. They tried to smash the machines to stop them from getting through, and having failed, they'll try again if they can find an opportunity. It looks as if Stanhauser was right about there being a leakage in his lines of communication, and that isn't going to make life any easier for us. Well, maybe we shall be able to show them a thing or two; we shall see.'

Chapter 4

An Unwelcome Reception

The night passed slowly, and not without anxiety, for more than once cars raced up and down the road, and there were other signs, such as distant calls, which suggested that a search was proceeding. At such times the airmen got into their cockpits, fingering their self-starters, ready to take the air the moment danger threatened. This did not materialize, however, and the hours went by without any one coming into the field in which they had taken refuge. None of them slept or attempted to sleep; in the circumstances they preferred to keep awake. In the early hours of the morning the sky cleared and the moon came up, flooding the world with its pale radiance.

Biggles looked at his watch for the hundredth time. 'It's nearly five o'clock,' he announced. 'I reckon it will start to get light within the next hour, which means that if we took off now we should only oe night-flying for about an hour or so. I feel inclined to move on.'

'As we've waited so long why not stay until it's light?' suggested Algy.

`Because, in thinking things over, I believe it would be wiser to get across the frontier of this country in the dark. I shouldn't be surprised if daylight saw machines in the air on the look-out for us. Kestler, or whoever it was who wired the aerodrome, seeing his plans miscarry, is almost certain to ring up the authorities and inform them that three strange military aircraft are flying over the country, and then, naturally, and quite properly, machines would be sent up to stop us.'

`Suppose that happens, what will you do?'

`Make a bolt for it.'

`They may open fire on us if we refuse to go down.' 'Yes, I suppose they might.'

'In which case you'd put up a fight, I imagine? Is that why you had the guns loaded?'

`Great Scott, no! Don't be an ass. Do you suppose I want to start another Great War ? I was thinking of Lovitzna, which we shall have to skirt, when I had the guns loaded. I'm not shooting at any one else's machines. No fear. We'd go to jail for life if we were caught, if nothing worse. But there, I don't think we shall have any cause to worry if we leave the ground in good time. If we leave during the next half hour we shall be a long way off by the time dawn breaks.'

'We might lose each other in the dark.'

'I hadn't overlooked that risk. Even if that happened we should probably be able to see each other when it gets light. The course is due east. Keep above six thousand or you may run into a mountain; there's some biggish country ahead of us. Eight o'clock should see us at the River Danube, which runs pretty well at right angles across our course at the point where we ought to strike it. It's the only big river, and therefore unmistakable.

Whoever gets to it first had better fly up and down it, over a distance of, say, ten miles, until the others join him. Ten miles should be ample allowance for any possible margin of error, I think.'

The others agreed, and they all sat down on a low bank to wait, but they had only been sitting there about five minutes, luckily, as it happened, in silence, when two men suddenly made their appearance near the machines, which were a matter of some fifteen or twenty yards away. Where they came from the airmen did not know; they never did know, although Biggles afterwards declared that they must have come through the belt of trees, or they would have seen them earlier. They were both in uniform, which looked black in the ghostly light, and they ran forward as soon as they saw the machines.

But Biggles was as quick. Slipping on his goggles to hide his face, he nudged the others, and then, his feet making no noise on the soft turf, he crept up swiftly behind the men, who were now talking in low, excited tones. They appeared to be arguing about their best plan of procedure, but finally came to an agreement and with one accord moved up to the nearest machine. One of them raised his foot with the obvious intention of getting into the cockpit.

But this was more than Biggles was prepared to permit. He could not, of course, make an unwarranted attack on the two men, who, after all, were only doing their duty, but he realized that as the machines had been discovered, they themselves had nothing to gain by remaining hidden. `Halt!' he said, in a sharp, commanding voice.

The two men sprang round as if he had fired a shot, and there was a moment of tense silence as they found themselves staring into the muzzles of the airmen's automatics.

Biggles was the first to move. With the muzzle of his pistol he waved the men away.

Once they understood his intention they needed no second bidding; they began walking backwards, but seeing that the airmen did not move, they soon turned and broke into a run. In a few

seconds they had disappeared from sight, but not from sound. A loud hail rang through the still night air.

`Come on,' snapped Biggles, 'it's time we went. Off you go, Ginger. You next, Algy.'

As ordered, Ginger took off first, and got away without trouble. Algy followed, and Biggles, satisfied that he, too, was in the air, raced across the wet turf to join them. None of the machines carried navigation lights , but Biggles, turning east as soon as he was off, soon picked out one of the others by the orange blaze of its exhaust, and headed towards it. Overtaking it, he showed himself to the pilot of the other machine - for in the darkness he could not make out which one it was - and thereafter settled down to the long flight ahead. A few minutes later the two machines flying together saw the flame of another exhaust some distance in front, and this, Biggles realized, must be Ginger, since he had been the first to take off. Flying on full throttle, the two rear machines soon caught up with the first, and having made their presence known, throttled down again to cruising speed.