Biggles and Son: Chapter 27.

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.

Biggles woke to a splitting headache and a stinging pain in his chest. He tried to move his arm, but it appeared to be stuck to something. “What—?” he muttered groggily, just as another voice spoke, close at hand.

“Hold on, old boy, you’d better lie still, what? Wouldn’t want all the bally tubes and things coming out.” It was Bertie’s voice, of course, and after few blinks Bertie’s face came into view, hovering anxiously above his own, one eye adorned by a monocle.

“Bertie?” Biggles’ voice was a mere croak. “Where’s Jane? And Algy?” he added, as an afterthought.

“No idea, old chap,” was the almost cheerful reply. “And that goes for both of them. They toddled off in the Piper after you got shot.”

Biggles attempted to sit up, but quickly changed his mind as his headache threatened to drown him. “Where’s Ginger?” was his next question.

Bertie shrugged. “Somewhere about. He’s just back from taking Brechovich to Raymond.”

Biggles blinked. “Brechovich?” he echoed. “What’s he got to do with anything?”

Before Bertie could answer the question, another voice piped up, near at hand. “Dad?”

Biggles groaned. “Oh, no,” he muttered. “Not you.”

It was unclear whether or not Sebastian actually heard that last line, for the next time he spoke he sounded closer, and his voice was as cheerful as ever. “How’re you feeling, Dad?” he inquired, in what Biggles deemed an unnecessarily loud tone. Without waiting for a reply, the boy pressed on, excitement evident in his voice. “I saw Uncle Algy fly off with Mom, and then I got to hit a bad guy over the head and saved Uncle Ginger’s life! It was amazing! You should have seen it!”

But Biggles heard no more of the sentence after “Uncle Algy fly off with Mom”, which triggered recent memories that made him groan again. “Algy,” he growled, summoning up all the anger he could with what little strength he had.

&&&

The wound from the gunshot was not a serious one, but it did incapacitate Algy for the amount of time it took for Jane to get out of the Piper and start the refueling process.

Huddled awkwardly inside the plane, Algy could do nothing but lie where he was and hope that the makeshift bandage he had tied around his leg would help to slow the bleeding until he could find someone to help him.

Surprisingly, help came sooner than expected, in the shape of an elderly Russian man who spoke no English. However, judging from the businesslike manner in which he tended to Algy’s wound, it was obvious that he was a doctor, or had previously been one at some point.

Algy did not waste his breath questioning the man. Indeed, it would have been pointless to, as the man spoke no English, and he, Algy, spoke no Russian. Therefore he could perhaps be forgiven for lying back and allowing the doctor to remove the bullet and sew up the wound in a painful silence.

While the doctor was working on his leg, Jane and a few other people were going back and forth, loading up the Piper with what appeared to be a good supply of guns. It took some time before it dawned on Algy that these were very probably the smuggled weapons that Raymond had been so eager for him to learn the location of.

“Well,” he mused to himself sarcastically. “At least now I know where they are. That’s something, at any rate.”

Finally, the doctor rose to his feet with a grunt of satisfaction and said something briefly to Jane, who had been waiting and watching in the pilot’s seat for the previous quarter of an hour. Jane nodded in reply to the doctor’s words and then turned to smile at Algy. “It’s probably going to be sore for a couple of days, but that shouldn’t worry you,” she commented, with a sweet smile. “Aren’t you glad I know what I’m doing? I could’ve killed you, you know. But hey, I’ve always had a soft spot for flattery, and I figured you deserved a chance to win me over, even though we both know it’s never gonna happen between us.”

&&&

It was later that afternoon that Raymond stopped in to see Biggles, but it was obvious at a glance from the Air Commodore’s furrowed brow that this was no casual visit.

“We have Brechovich in custody, and he’s told us the location of the smuggled weapons we were looking for,” he informed Biggles, without any beating around the bush.

“Good,” said Biggles, without enthusiasm. “I suppose that’s that, then.”

“Not exactly,” replied the Air Commodore awkwardly. “You see, when we got there, the weapons were no longer there. They’d gone. According to eye witnesses, a woman dressed in a pink dress and sunglasses flying a Piper came and took everything away.”

Biggles’ lips tightened. “Jane,” he said. “Any mention of Algy?”

“Lacey? No, of course not. Why would there be?”

Biggles did not answer the question. The truth was he would not have known what to say even if he had wanted to say anything.

“So what do you think our next move should be?” inquired Raymond, after a slight pause.

“Well, that’s obvious, isn’t it?” said Biggles. “We’ll have to find that Piper. I’ll get Ginger and Bertie on it…and, as a matter of fact, there’s someone outside who might be able to help us with that as well.”

“Who’s that?”

“Marcel. He was in London for a conference and heard I was in hospital, so he came along to hear the story.”

“Good,” said the Air Commodore, picking up his hat. “I’ll leave you to it, then. Let me know if you hear anything.”

“Of course, sir.”

Biggles waited until the Air Commodore had departed before calling Marcel into the room for an informal conference. He deliberately left out the identities of the occupants of the Piper, merely saying, “Ginger will give you the details of the Piper we’re looking for. Keep an eye on the coast.”

“But of course!” promised Marcel, nodding emphatically. “I will watch the coast and see if the little plane it come to France. What would you like me to do with this plane if I see it?”

Biggles’ voice hardened. “It’s carrying smuggled weapons, so you can please yourself what you do,” he said. “Shoot them down if you have to.”

Go to Chapter 28.

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