Biggles Married III Chapter 12.

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.

Smith appeared to have come prepared. A sleek black car was waiting for him at the corner. He jerked the door open and slid into the car, shouting to the driver.

But he was not to get away so easily.

Algy caught up with Smith before he had time to close the door. “Not so fast!” he snapped, gripping onto the door for dear life as the car began to roll forward. Algy had to run to keep up.

The driver of the car slowed when he saw Algy clutching at the door, but Smith yelled at him to go on as fast as possible, and the car accordingly shot forward. Without a second thought, Algy flung himself into the backseat, tumbling over Smith as the car moved on at reckless speed. The door slammed shut behind him, so fast that he nearly lost his foot.

“What do you think you’re doing in my car?” demanded Smith, pushing Algy off of his lap. “You’re—”

Algy sat himself upright and whipped out his pistol. “I wouldn’t say too much if I were you,” he advised icily. “I’ve had it up to here with you already. You don’t want to make me any angrier than I am at the moment.”

“Did Bigglesworth send you?”

“Didn’t I say not to talk?” inquired Algy, in a pleasant voice edged with steel. “Now, the way I see it, you have two options. Either you can take me to where you’re holding Biggles’ wife, or I can shoot you here and now and make your driver take me where I want to go.”

Smith held up his hands in a pacifying gesture. “You do not have to shoot me—” he began hastily.

“Good man!” said Algy encouragingly. “I thought you’d see it that way. Isn’t it funny how skunks like you are only too eager to bump other people off, but back down the moment your own lives are in danger?”

“You will be sorry for this—”

Algy casually fired a bullet through the window behind Smith. The glass shattered into a million pieces. Smith screamed. The car swerved.

“How dare—”

The next bullet zipped so close to Smith’s ear that it left a small graze just under his ear. Smith clapped a hand to the cut and began to howl in pain.

“The next one goes through your head,” promised Algy, in an overly polite tone. “So why don’t you sit still and be a good boy. Oh, shut up, it’s only a graze.”

Whimpering, Smith sank back against the seat and did as he was told.

&&&

“No!” cried Ginger, watching on helplessly as the car containing Algy and Smith disappeared from view. He could hear sirens in the distance, but there was no doubt in his mind that by the time the police cars arrived Algy would be long gone.

“Was that his accomplice?” demanded Gaskin, skidding to a halt just behind Ginger. “The man he got into the car with?”

“I don’t know,” confessed Ginger. “By the way, you can add some more charges to the list. Algy was planning to blow up the conference. He had the bomb in his hands the last time I saw him.”

Next to Ginger, Bertie was polishing his monocle with more than necessary vigor. He made a face to show what he thought of the situation.

Gaskin shook his head. “It’s always the quiet ones, isn’t it? Never would have thought it of him, blowing up conferences and murdering people and all the rest of it. Never mind, I’ve sent word out with my boys. We’ll soon catch him, you see if we don’t.”

“What’s going on here?” a new voice broke in.

Three heads turned.

Ginger was the first to break the silence. “Biggles?” he exclaimed, incredulously, staring at Biggles as if he had never seen him before. “What are you doing here?”

Bertie dropped his monocle. Thankfully Biggles caught it for him and it didn’t break. “I say, old boy! Where did you pop out from?”

Gaskin’s mouth fell open, but he said nothing. His eyes seemed in danger of falling out of their sockets.

“What are you all staring at?” demanded Biggles irritably.

“Aren’t you supposed to be kidnapped and almost murdered?” asked Ginger, completely forgetting that all of Algy’s crimes had occurred only in his head.

“What on earth are you blathering on about? I haven’t been kidnapped!”

“But—we—didn’t—Mrs. Symes said—” Ginger trailed off.

“Will someone please explain to me what’s going on?”

“Didn’t Algy kidnap you and then assault a cab driver this morning and just now try to blow up the conference with a bomb?” The words tumbled out of Ginger’s mouth.

Biggles choked. “Did you say Algy tried to blow up the conference with a bomb?” he asked, in a strained voice.

“Yes. We saw him holding it seconds before it went off.”

Biggles was silent for almost a whole minute before asking, “Who told you I’d been kidnapped?”

“They did,” replied Gaskin, giving both Ginger and Bertie a cold glare.

“And who told you two poor boobs that I’d been kidnapped?”

Ginger stared at the ground, abashed. “Well…I…you see…um…”

“Well?”

“Well…er…Mrs. Symes said…someone…had been kidnapped, and since we couldn’t get a hold of you, we thought it was you…”

“And since you couldn’t get a hold of Algy, you assumed that he was the one who had done the kidnapping?” Biggles’ tone was coldly sarcastic.

“Well…”

“And did you call the police and give them this wild tale of Algy kidnapping me?”

“Er…”

“But here, hang on a tick, old chap,” protested Bertie. “Mrs. Symes did tell us that someone was kidnapped.”

“Yes,” said Biggles, through set teeth. “But not me. Jane.”

There was a long awkward silence.

“And by the way,” said Biggles, turning away to light a cigarette. “You’re wrong about another thing as well. It wasn’t Algy who set the bomb off. It was me.”

Go to Chapter 13. 

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