Biggles and Son: Chapter 29.

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.

Although he was under constant surveillance, Algy had a relatively peaceful week. His guards were all Russians who spoke little to no English and so he had nothing to do other than allow his leg to heal.

Thankfully, he did not see much of Jane, who seemed to be spending her days inside the main building that served as the headquarters of wherever it was they were. He only ever saw her briefly at meals, and on those occasions she always seemed to be in a hurry to leave and so they made little conversation.

He had started formulating vague plans for escape when late one evening he saw Jane rush out from the main building and run towards the shed where the Piper was housed, obviously agitated.

Not knowing what else to do he ran after her and caught up to her just as the shed doors were being pushed open. “What’s going on?” he demanded.

Jane gave him a cursory glance and then turned back to the task at hand, which appeared to be ordering the men around them to empty the guns that had been kept in the Piper. “Stefan’s escaped,” she said. “He’s on his way here.”

“Stefan?” echoed Algy. “Brechovich?”

“Yes. Get out of the way, won’t you? I’m in a hurry. He’ll be here any minute.”

Algy stood there in a stunned silence as around him people milled back and forth, divesting the Piper of its lethal cargo. He had not given too much thought to Brechovich ever since Jane had shot him, and for this he could hardly be blamed, for he had had much on his mind.

Jane had said that Brechovich had escaped. Escaped from what? Prison? It was the natural assumption to make. Remembering the Russian’s trigger-happy personality, he couldn’t quite hold back a shudder as he wondered just how many men had been shot during the escape.

He came out of his thoughts with a start, to realize, with some surprise, that in the flurry of activity, he had been left alone in the shed.

With the Piper.

His surprise did not last long—nor did his indecision. A quick glance around was enough to convince him to action. Two strides took him to the machine and then he was in the cabin and reaching for the controls.

He could hear shouting—a shrill female voice prevailing over the rest—and through the windshield he could see people running towards the shed, but by then it was too late to stop him, he was already taxying directly into the approaching men.

They scattered as he rushed towards them, and before they could do anything about it he was away.

He flew blindly for several minutes. Overwhelmed as he was by emotions, it was all he could do to keep the Piper on even keel. He was relieved at having got away, but worried at the possibility of being followed and perhaps shot down. At the top of his mind was the thought that he would have to find some way to get in touch with Biggles as soon as possible.

He glanced around at the darkness outside the plane, wondering where he was. It took him a minute or so to get his bearings, but then a familiar bulk loomed up ahead and an exclamation of relief burst from his lips. “France!” He was looking at the coastline of France, which meant that he was over the sea.

He eyed the petrol gauge with a view to turning around and heading for England—home—but one glance was enough to show him that he would be unable to make it. Disappointed, he continued on towards France.

He just had time to settle back into his seat when the Piper was rocked violently by a sudden impact. Startled, Algy sent the machine rolling over in an evasive move, all the while keeping his head turned over his shoulder to see whether he could spot his attacker.

Close at hand he heard the chatter of a gun and as the Piper’s controls shuddered in his hand he knew that he had been hit.

A snatched glance showed him nothing below him but open sea and darkness. There was nowhere for him to land. The coastline was too far to reach, and grimly Algy began making mental plans to swim. The thought of a night in wet clothes was not a pleasant one, but there was nothing to be done about it.

As the Piper spun rapidly out of control, he saw a machine, presumably the one that had shot him down, departing from the scene.

He only caught a brief glimpse of the plane, but it was enough. He had seen the plane too many times to not recognize it.

It was Marcel’s.

Go to Chapter 30.

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