Biggles and Son: Chapter 15.

by Sopwith

Disclaimer: I do not own, or claim to own, any of the Biggles series characters used in this work. This fan fiction was written for entertainment purposes only and should not be considered part of the official storyline.

Warning: Non canon type fan fiction works may contain severe time mix-ups and character deviations. 

While Biggles had spent an anxious but uneventful night locked in a room, Algy had been having a rather more exciting time.

He had waited outside the pub for an hour, watching Brechovich and Jane through one of the front windows. His new employer was evidently someone who liked a drink, and Algy marveled at the man’s ability to down glass after glass.

But it was Jane’s behavior that grated at Algy the most. It started out with small things, a hand laid on Brechovich’s arm, a flirtatious smile, a quick batting of the eyelashes. That would have been bad enough, but then Jane moved on to bolder antics, wrapping her arms around the Russian’s chest and kissing him full on the lips to the drunken cheers and shouts of the other occupants of the pub.

Algy almost left then. Let Jane make her own escape if she wanted to, was the bitter thought that passed through his mind. He could see why the people at the Secret Service were concerned. Either Jane was the best actress in the world, or she was genuinely in love with Brechovich, and from what he had seen so far, he could well believe the latter.

The only thing that kept him in place was the thought that if he returned and reported failure to Air Commodore Raymond, Biggles might well end up being the one sent out to take his place.

What Biggles would do if confronted with the sight of his wife kissing another man was anybody’s guess, but Algy was understandably eager to prevent such a confrontation from taking place.

Finally, ten minutes past the promised hour, Brechovich strolled out of the pub with Jane on his arm. Surprisingly for a man who had consumed as much drink as he had, his steps were sure and steady rather than staggering. “Smith,” he greeted, patting Algy on the back as if they were old friends. “We go. Fly plane.”

Algy resisted the urge to recoil from the man’s touch and merely said, “Which way?”

Brechovich gestured. “Car.” Algy followed the Russian and Jane around the side of the pub, to where a black car was parked. Without a word the Russian got into the driver’s seat, gesturing for Algy to take the passenger seat whilst Jane got into the back.

Algy took his place in the car, wondering what he was getting himself into as Brechovich started the engine.

&&&

They drove for almost an hour. Several times Algy wanted to ask where they were going, but repressed the urge, not wanting to seem overly curious.

He was almost asleep when the car finally came to a stop.

Algy sat up, glancing around. As far as he could see, they had stopped in the middle of the road and there was nothing around them, not even a shed. “Where is this?” he inquired, unable to quell his curiosity any longer.

Instead of answering the question, Brechovich opened the car door and got out. “Come,” he said.

Somewhat reluctantly, Algy got out of the car. Jane emerged from the back seat and walked over to Brechovich, who was standing just beside the open driver’s door of the car. Catching the Russian’s face in her hands, she kissed him so passionately that Algy had to avert his eyes, shifting his feet awkwardly on the dirt.

After what seemed like an eternity, the couple finally broke apart. Algy heaved a mental sigh of relief, looking up just in time to see Jane slide into the driver’s seat with a murmured, “Stay safe, Stefan.”

Algy caught a glimpse of her upturned face as she smiled up at Brechovich. In that instant, he saw confirmation of all of his worst fears. There was no question of mistake, or of acting. What he saw in her face reflected nothing but the plain and simple truth.

Jane was in love with Brechovich.

&&&

As the car drove off behind them, Algy turned to Brechovich. “So,” he said. “Where are we going?”

Brechovich grunted and gestured with his head. “Come.”

Algy followed, and the two of them tramped through the dark in silence for about ten minutes until Algy saw that they were approaching what appeared to be an aerodrome. “Is that where we’re going?” he asked.

Brechovich grunted and nodded. “Take plane,” he said, fumbling with something inside his coat. A minute later his hand came back into view, and Algy was horrified to see a gun clutched in his fingers.

“What on earth are you doing?”

Brechovich grinned, a grin that made Algy think that perhaps his companion was not as sober as he appeared. “Take plane,” he repeated. “If people come…” He made a gesture with the gun, a gesture that did not need to be explained.

“But—” began Algy, until he remembered that he was supposed to be helping Brechovich so as to get to the secret store of weapons that the Secret Service were so keen on getting their hands on.

They walked up to the gate. There was only one guard on duty. He stepped forward, and from the expression on his face Algy could tell that he was surprised, but not unduly suspicious. “Who—” he began.

He got no further, for at that moment Brechovich simply stepped forward, jabbed his gun into the guard’s stomach, and shot him.

Algy was horrified at the man’s callousness, so horrified that he was unable to move for several seconds, and only remembered to keep walking when Brechovich nudged him with an impatient elbow. “Come.”

They walked into the aerodrome. Another guard came walking towards them, looking mildly curious at their presence. Brechovich shot him as well, before continuing on towards one of the hangers at the far end of the aerodrome.

There was only one plane in the hanger, an Auster. There was also one man keeping guard over the plane. Brechovich shot that man as well. Algy felt cold all over. The Russian had shot three people in as many minutes, and he hadn’t even blinked whilst doing so.

“In plane,” said the Russian, nodding towards the pilot seat.

Wordlessly, Algy got into the plane. The Russian passed him a map and pointed to a mark on the coastline. “Go,” he said. “Fly.”

Algy nodded.

Go to Chapter 16.

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