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.
How long they drove Bertie did not know. Eventually,
the car pulled up in front of a gray, forbidding building, and Von Stalhein got
out, beckoning for Bertie to follow. Again conscious of the glares of the two
South Americans, Bertie did as he was asked.
He was led to a small windowless room and locked in.
Bertie looked around with mild interest, but except for a table, two chairs,
and a creaky bed in the corner, the room was empty. There was nothing very much
to see or do, so he whiled away the time by checking the contents of his
pockets and rearranging them.
After what seemed like hours, he heard the key turn in
the lock and Von Stalhein reappeared.
Seating himself on one of the chairs, the German
gestured for Bertie to take the other. “By now I am sure you have had time to
think over your position,” he began, without preamble. “I have a…proposition to
make, and I would urge you to give it your most careful consideration.” Not
waiting for Bertie to reply, he went on. “I am expecting to leave these parts
very soon, for my business here is almost completed. I can easily dispose of
you before I go, but I feel like I should offer you an alternative.”
He paused for breath and Bertie, just to be saying
something, said, “I say, that’s jolly sporting of you, what?”
Von Stalhein glared at him suspiciously as if he
thought Bertie might be mocking him, but he made no comment as he continued,
“So if you would agree to write a letter to Colonel…Raymond, I think his name
is?...and all other officials that might be concerned, saying that you had
nothing to report, I would possibly consider allowing you to go free. I would,
of course, require that you give me your word that you would not trouble
yourself with any of my affairs in the future.”
Bertie eyed the German thoughtfully. “Well, old boy,
if you don’t mind me saying so, that’s a bally interesting proposition.”
“If you refuse, I should be forced to shoot you here
and now.”
Bertie shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “I say,
there’s no need to be so dashed awful hasty about it, what?”
The German rose. He looked at his watch. “I shall give
you until tomorrow to think it over,” he said. “And I would advise you to think
it over very carefully.”
&&&
There was a very long silence after Wilks’
extraordinary statement. Biggles was the first to break it. “Suffering
crocodiles! I don’t know what I expected to find, but it certainly wasn’t
this.”
“The only snag is, we’re not the only ones after the
diamonds.”
“Isn’t that always the way?” said Biggles bitterly.
“People can never seem to leave well enough alone when it comes to objects that
sparkle.”
“Money is still a useful thing to have in this day and
age,” observed Wilks. “Anyway, whoever these chaps are, they mean business.”
“Was that the plane I saw earlier?” put in Ginger,
suddenly remembering what had happened before he had been attacked by the
lizard.
“What plane?” demanded Biggles.
“They come over perhaps every other night, and collect
up some stones,” explained Wilks. “They must have made millions by now. Robbs
has been over to the area and he says the place is positively swimming with the
stuff.”
“I see,” said Biggles slowly. “Well, that makes things
awkward. Our orders were to bring back one
diamond and now we’ve got a whole horde to choose from. I wonder if they all
belong to Lord Whatshisname, or if they belong to the South American
government?”
“Hard to tell,” said Robbs. “Depends on exactly what
the chief said.”
“Well, we’d better make sure to bring at least one of
them back with us to make this trop worthwhile,” muttered Biggles.
“The most important question now is, what do we do?” said Wilks.
“I had a plane when I came over, but I seem to have
misplaced it,” replied Biggles with grim humor. “Never mind; I expect either
Bertie or Algy or both will be along some time in the morning to see why we
haven’t returned.”
“Let’s hope they don’t run into our friend,” growled
Wilks.
Biggles considered. “Yes, that would be awkward. I
suppose the best we can do is stand on that flat open area we were sleeping in
and sort if wave to keep him off.”
“They might think we were beckoning,” said Ginger
gloomily.
“They might,” agreed Biggles. “But the only thing we
can do is try it. We’d better turn in now to be sure of getting there early. We
don’t know when they might be over, and I certainly don’t want to miss them.”
&&&
There was nothing very much for Bertie to do except
pace the room and think of escape. It did not take him long to ascertain that
the only way in and out of the room was the locked door. Presumably that was
why von Stalhein had chosen to imprison him there in the first place.
He tested the table and chairs, hoping to break off
something that could be used as a weapon, but to his disappointment, they held
firm.
With nothing much else to do, Bertie sat down on the
bed to think things over. Once, a man came in with a tray of food, but as there
was an armed escort behind him and Bertie did not dare risk escape for fear of
being shot.
He ate the food thoughtfully, but not with any
particular interest. He wished he had a watch, for he had no idea how much time
had passed since Von Stalhein had left.
He wondered what had happened to Biggles and the
others. Surely—surely, they weren’t
really all dead? Had the two South Americans shot Biggles and Ginger down? And
what of Algy?
With these questions spinning in his mind, Bertie lay
back on the bed and fell asleep.
&&&
“Looks like we’re going to have a bit of a wait ahead
of us,” observed Biggles cheerfully, as he and Ginger, led by Robbs, made their
way back to where they had been the night before.
Ginger nodded without enthusiasm. He had slept badly
the night before, for his dreams had been plagued with images of lizards and
giant bats. Biggles had shaken him awake around dawn, and the journey back had
left him feeling in desperate need of a nap.
Biggles settled himself against a tree trunk and lit a
cigarette. Ginger alternated between walking up and down the path, keeping
Biggles and Robbs in sight at all times, and munching on the bar of chocolate
in his pocket, taking small bites to make it last as long as possible.
After what seemed like days of this, he finally heard
the sound he had been waiting for—that of an approaching aero engine. “They’re
here!” he cried.
“Not so fast,” said Biggles grimly. “The other side
have planes too, you know. We’d better make sure who’s flying it before we show
ourselves.”
“How’re we going to do that?” asked Ginger.
“With a lot of luck. Quiet, now.”
The plane soon came into sight, and Robbs let out a
small sigh of disappointment. “I know that plane,” he said. “It belongs to the
crooks. I can tell by the green stripe down the nose.”
“It doesn’t look like it’s going to land,” said
Biggles. “It’s just circling…as if it’s waiting for something.”
They waited, watching the plane circle aimlessly
around in the sky above the island, apparently doing nothing.
“I don’t suppose it’s looking for you?” said Robbs.
“I don’t know,” admitted Biggles. “I suppose that it
possible, but in that case wouldn’t it make more sense to land and search on
foot? Anyway, he’s flying a bit too high to get a really good look at the
island. Hullo, what’s this?” For the low hum of a second aero engine rapidly
approaching could now be heard, and after a few minutes, the second plane came
into sight. “Single-seater,” noted Biggles. “I wonder if it’s ours, or theirs?”
“We should soon find out,” murmured Robbs, as the
green-striped plane began to turn, very slowly.
“I don’t think they’re friends,” said Ginger, his eyes
following the second plane as it made a complete circuit of the island. “That
plane looks like it’s looking for something.”
“Or someone,” said Biggles. He watched the plane for a
few more minutes before saying, “You know, I’d be willing to bet a week’s pay
that Algy’s flying that plane. Either that, or someone who flies just the way
he does.”
Ginger said, “Judging from the way he flies, he hasn’t
seen the other chap yet.”
“I know. Well, there’s nothing for it. We’ll just have
to risk it. I’d rather show myself mistakenly than have him shot down. You two
can stay here. I’ll go.”
“Not on your life,” asserted Ginger. “I’m coming with
you.”
Biggles shrugged but did not argue. “Have it your way.
Come on.”
The two of them dashed forward to the makeshift patch
of space that had served as their landing strip the day before and waved up to
the second plane. It altered course immediately and made for them, banking
slowly to show that it had seen them.
“He hasn’t seen the other plane yet,” said Ginger, in
near panic.
“He’s probably got his eyes on us,” replied Biggles
hopelessly, still waving frantically.
The plane passed over their heads and a small box
dropped from it. Biggles was running towards it even before it had hit the
ground, and he quickly flung it open and looked at the contents. “Rations,” he
said to Ginger.
“There’s a note.”
Biggles unfolded the piece of paper and read it. “It’s
Algy. He says he can’t land now, he doesn’t have much petrol left, but he’s
going back to refill and then he’ll be back.”
“He still hasn’t seen the other machine,” said Ginger,
in despair, as the plane turned around to head for home, the pilot apparently
satisfied that its message had been delivered.
“He has now,” said Biggles grimly, as the
green-striped plane dove down and started firing at Algy.
Algy reacted with a speed that might have been comical
under other circumstances. The plane rolled into a steep bank, and for a minute
Ginger thought it would go into a spin. But by some miracle the pilot righted
it, and then proceeded to head towards the green-striped plane as if the only
thought in the pilot’s head was to knock the other plane out of the sky.
“That’s Algy, all right,” murmured Ginger,
open-mouthed.
Biggles did not speak. Only the fists clenched at his
sides showed how strained he was.
The two planes were head to head now, and Ginger
winced, waiting for the inevitable collision, but it never came. The
green-striped plane shuddered in place and abruptly fell into a spin. Algy
circled briefly in place, then turned and headed for home.
Biggles breathed a sigh of relief, which was
shortlived, as the green-striped plane rightened itself and swept down on them,
spitting lashes of fire at Biggles and Ginger as they ran for cover.
No comments
Post a Comment
While you are free to post comments anonymously, you are encouraged to use the Name/URL option to post so that your comment will not be filtered out as spam.