Sir Biggles, Order of the Camel: Chapter 5.

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.

Algy, looking grim and more than a little pale, knocked impatiently on the door to Thompson’s office. When there was no answer, he knocked again, frowning. Again there was no answer, and Algy half-heartedly tried the door handle. Not surprising, it was locked.

“Are you looking for someone?” inquired a cool voice behind him.

Algy turned and said, to the pleasant looking man in uniform standing behind him, “Actually, I was looking for Thompson. This is his office, isn’t it?”

“Yes, that’s his office, but you won’t find him in there. He’s taken a spot of leave for the next couple of days.”

A cold hand seemed to wrap itself around Algy’s heart. “Did he say why?”

“I don’t know the details, I’m afraid.”

The man began to walk away, but Algy called him back. “Just a minute. A colleague of mine came to the office last night with Thompson and I haven’t heard back from him. I was wondering if you might have seen him?”

“Colleague?” said the man thoughtfully. “What’s his name?”

“Bigglesworth.”

At this, the man fell back against the wall and went pale, holding up his hands as if to ward off an attack. “I…I haven’t heard anything,” he stammered. “I’m…I have to go.” And with that, he scurried down the hall without a backward glance.

Algy, taken aback by the sudden departure of the man, did the only thing he could think of, which was to run down the corridor after the man as fast as he could, shouting as he went. The obvious effect this had on the man in question, was, of course, to make him run even faster.

Where it would have ended it is impossible to say, but just as the two of them rounded a corner, the last person Algy expected to see appeared at the end of the corridor.

Erich von Stalhein.

&&&

Having duly disposed of the squib, both Bertie and Ginger were more than a little shaken, to say the least. They went back to their room to talk the problem over, and on the way there ran into Thompson.

Bertie eyed him. "I say, old boy, what are you doing here?"

Thompson affected an expression of surprise. "What do you mean?"

"Well, where's Biggles?"

Thompson looked, if anything, even more astonished. "Bigglesworth? Isn't he back yet? I haven't seen him since last night."

Bertie and Ginger exchanged worried glances. Ginger said, "I don't suppose you ran into Lacey on the way here?"

"No. Why?"

"He was on his way to see you. He was worried when we didn't get news from Biggles."

Thompson shook his head. "No, I haven't seen him. We must have just missed each other. I had to come here to work on the paperwork for the shooting incident last night, so I haven't been in my office all day."

Bertie looked at his watch. Algy had been gone for more than two hours already. At most, it would have taken him half an hour or so to get to Thompson's office, discover that he wasn't there, and then come back. And if he had found Biggles, surely he would have called. Uneasiness crept into his mind, and he exchanged another look with Ginger.

Biggles had been missing for almost twenty-four hours, and it looked like Algy was fast following in his footsteps.

&&&

Algy and von Stalhein stared at each other for what must have been a full minute of shocked silence.

Eventually, it was the German who recovered first, for having already met Biggles the previous night, he was of course not nearly so surprised to see Algy as Algy was to see him.

But if Algy recovered his wits a tenth of a second later than von Stalhein, it did not impair his ability to act. For one stupefied half-millisecond before realization dawned, Algy said blankly, more to himself than to the German, “You’ve got Biggles.”

“I do,” replied von Stalhein, with grim satisfaction, and those two simple words seemed to break the spell.

Algy turned and began hurtling down the corridor the way he had come, horribly aware of von Stalhein close on his heels, shouting shrilly as he went. It could only be a matter of time before he, or one of the people working for him, managed to get a hold of Algy.

Grimly, Algy kept the lead, one hand pressed to his now unbearably painful side. Snatching a quick look down, he was horrified to see red seeping through his shirt.

Von Stalhein was close now, very close. Algy had a vague mental image of the German breathing down his neck as he dashed through an office and upended a chair into von Stalhein’s path. He heard the German curse as he tripped over the piece of furniture, but there was no time to look back and assess the damage done.

Algy dashed out of the office into another corridor that looked exactly the same as all the other ones he had just run through. He knew that he was lost, but the shrill shouts behind him made him realize that he was in no position to stop and work out the way to the exits through a logical intellectual process.

He took a rasping breath, and the jolt of pain this simple action caused his ribs almost made his knees buckle. His eyes watered, and it was all he could do to keep from passing out.

&&&

After a fruitless conversation with von Stalhein, Biggles had been taken into a windowless room containing a desk and a pair of wooden chairs. His escorts had then locked the door from the outside, and apart from a brief visit to provide him with water and a tray of food, he had seen no more of them, although the slow steady tramp of footsteps outside his prison warned him that escape was not as easy as it seemed.

He had left his watch at the hotel, so he had no idea of how much time passed as he paced the room, seeking to find a means of escape. The furniture was flimsy and might be broken to make weapons, which cheered him somewhat when he remembered that the guards were bound to be back to bring him more food or collect the empty tray.

He attempted to pick the lock, but what tools he had were worse than useless for the task at hand, and he soon gave it up.

At one point during this long period of solitude he must have fallen asleep, for the next thing he knew, he had jerked awake and was staring confusedly at the door, wondering why there was such a commotion outside.

&&&

Algy felt his blood dripping through his fingers from the wound in his side, but he dared not waste the time to check the damage or stop the bleeding. Throwing the chair at von Stalhein had gained him a few minutes’ advantage, but he did not think he would be able to hold the lead for long in his condition.

He was just about to dash out of the room he was standing in, when a large cupboard in one corner caught his eye, and a sudden brainwave came to him. Crossing to the other door of the room, he flung it open as if someone had hurriedly passed through, and then quickly returned to the cupboard and folded himself inside it, leaving the smallest of cracks to breathe and see through.

All this took less than five seconds, and he was well hidden by the time von Stalhein burst into the room, still shouting. Algy held his breath, wondering if his plan had succeeded.

For a moment von Stalhein paused and glanced over at the cupboard, and Algy’s heart sank, thinking that he had been discovered. But then the German’s gaze moved to the door Algy had hastily flung open and he rushed out through it.

In the cupboard, Algy allowed himself a weak gasp of relief. And then he turned his attention to the blood on his shirt and he felt a wave of dizziness come over him.

How long he huddled in the cupboard, he did not know. Later, he could only remember his nerves stretched to breaking point as he strained his ears to hear what was happening outside the door. He dared not move for fear von Stalhein would come back.

Finally, after what seemed to be an eternity, he shakily pushed his way out of the cupboard and made his way to the door von Stalhein had left through.

A quick glance around showed no one in sight, and it was with considerable relief that Algy began to make his painstaking way down the corridor.

Walking seemed to take more effort than usual, and he stopped halfway down the long corridor, leaning against a door while he fought to catch his breath.

There was a key in the lock of the door, and for no reason that he could think of, he idly turned it.

The door was wrenched open from the inside, and Algy abruptly found himself pitching forward onto the ground.

&&&

All Biggles could hear through the door was muffled shouting and someone speaking angrily in what appeared to be German. Once, something heavy thudded into his door, making him jump.

He retreated to the other end of the room, then, armed with the empty tray, he once again took up his post by the door. “If anyone comes through that door, I’m going to let him have it,” he promised himself. If it came down to him and von Stalhein, well, better to kill the German than be killed himself.

More shouting. Biggles thought he heard von Stalhein’s voice, but he couldn’t be certain. He took a tighter grip on the edges of the tray, his hands shaking with the strain of waiting.

Minutes passed, and he realized that the shouting had stopped. Either that, or the shouters had moved on to another part of the building.

A thought struck him. “By gosh, I hope it isn’t a fire,” he muttered anxiously. He glanced around his prison for something to break the door down with, but nothing struck him as solid enough to do so. “Well, there’s no smoke anyway,” he comforted himself, cautiously testing the door for signs of heat.

Abruptly, the key rattled in the lock. Someone had unlocked the door! Biggles wrenched the door open and was prepared to strike with the tray he still held, when the man on the other side of the door collapsed on top of him.

The two of them crashed to the floor, and Biggles frantically struggled out from under the unknown assailant. He had lost his hold on the tray, but his questing hand closed over the leg of the nearest chair, and he was about to send it toppling over the newcomer, when he took a closer look and realized who it was.

“Algy!”

Go to Chapter 6. 

Go back to Sir Biggles, Order of the Camel contents