Biggles Married 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. 

Meanwhile, in London, Air Commodore Raymond was getting worried. He hadn't heard from Biggles or any of the others in a week, nearly two. What could be the matter? He was also, to tell the truth, a little worried about Jane, who had insisted on going on the mission, despite his protests and chiding.

The ‘phone rang and Raymond answered it. "Hello, Raymond here. Yes? Yes, yes....WHAT????" He dropped the phone and stared at it wordlessly, his mind spinning with the news he had just heard.

Raymond paced his office, unsure of what to do. What should he do? Should he tell Biggles? Could he even get in touch with Biggles? Did Biggles know? He probably didn't, the way he was so protective of his wife.

The Air Commodore sank back weakly in his chair. “Women!” he muttered to himself.

&&&

Meanwhile, Biggles and Von Stalhein were still at it.

"...I did not do anything to your wife!!"

"...I told you to stop looking at her!"

Von Stalhein gestured to one of his men, who jerked his gun in Biggles' direction, Algy, Bertie, and Ginger instantly jerked up their own guns like a row of dominoes.

Jane sniffed.

MacLaren intervened. "Here, lads, don't let's play Indians and cowboys."

Von Stalhein growled a phrase in German. Biggles, who understood German, was the only one who understood it, but, wisely perhaps, he decided not to translate the remark to the others.

And just at that moment, for reasons best known to himself, one of von Stalhein's men fired.

...and almost hit Algy in the face...

The bullet zipped past his cheek with barely an inch to spare.

Algy got all mad because everyone had apparently forgotten to tell him it was National Hurt Algy Day and he fired right back. Within seconds, there was a full scale battle raging.

Algy growled out something that Von Stalhein couldn't understand, mainly because the phrase was popular among the infantry, but not among English-speaking Germans. "Why in the world did you have to shoot me?" Algy bellowed angrily, advancing towards the man who had fired the shot.

"You are spies," was the cold reply.

"And what about you lot, trying to take over someone else’s island?" demanded Ginger. "What do you call yourselves?"

"I say, old boys, do calm down," interrupted Bertie. "I can see a jolly old plane coming."

All eyes turned upwards.

It was a plane that Biggles hadn't seen for a good many years. His eyes immediately went to Algy, and they exchanged a terse glance, for the plane was none other than a Spitfire.

Von Stalhein eyed the plane with interest. "I think it is coming here," he remarked, needlessly. "Why-?"

"Don't look at me,” said Biggles. "I didn't bring it here."

Mac eyed the plane with a sort of wonder. "Interesting," he murmured softly. "I used to fly one of them."

Jane said, casually, "That's a Spitfire, isn't it?"

Biggles looked at his wife in surprise. "How do you know that?" he asked.

"Recognized it," said his wife, placidly.

"But how would you know what a Spitfire looks like?" cried Biggles, incredulously.

Jane flashed a mischievous smile at her husband. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” she said, teasingly.

“Yes,” said Biggles. “I would very much like to know, thanks. What’s going on?”

Algy looked at Ginger, who in turn looked helplessly at Bertie. All three of them half-shrugged in unison.

“James, darling,” said Jane. “You do remember that we met at an Aero Club?”

“Yes.”

“What do you think I was doing there?”

Biggles took a step back, confusion crossing his face as he fought to make sense of the situation. “But…you said you were there with your father,” he whispered, remembering. “He was a commander or something like that.”

“A commander in the American Air Force, honey, that’s right.”

“American Air Force…” said Von Stalhein, suddenly deciding to join the conversation. “Of course. That is where I have seen you before.”

“You stay out of this, Von Stalhein,” retorted Biggles automatically, without looking around. “I’m trying to talk to my wife here.”

But Von Stalhein was not to be stopped so easily. Hissing through his teeth and spitting out an expletive, he grated out, “You! It was you who stole the plans from me, and gave them to the Americans. That is why we lost the war, you—”

"What?" said Biggles, by now thoroughly confused.

But he was ignored as all eyes turned toward the Spitfire, which was just coming in to land.

Go to Chapter 13. 

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