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.
Having bandaged up Ivan’s arm and made him comfortable, the party then proceeded to drive to a second safe house, for Ivan said he had to inform the occupants there of the raid that had taken place.
Algy was thinking furiously on the journey, wondering how he could possibly get Biggles and Ginger out of their predicament. With Dusty’s help, he managed to get some more information from Ivan regarding the position of the prison and what was likely to happen to the prisoners.
He checked his pockets and wondered if anyone in history had ever arranged a prison escape with only an automatic, a handful of matches, and a silver cigarette case in their pockets.
“This should be it,” said Dusty, translating for Ivan as the car pulled up in front of a small squat building. “Better let Ivan go first; we don’t want to get shot.”
Ivan got out of the car and hurried to the door, rapping on the wooden surface a rapid series of knocks that were obviously part of a code. A minute later, the door opened a crack and some words were exchanged before the door was pushed open to its full extent. Ivan turned and beckoned.
“Come on,” said Dusty.
They followed Ivan into the house, which turned out to be sparsely furnished. The only furniture in the room was a round wooden table with chairs around it. There were only two people in the room, a wrinkled old man and a younger lad of perhaps twenty-five. More conversation was exchanged at this point, after which the two occupants of the room grew considerably more agitated. The young man leapt to his feet and began gesticulating wildly.
“He’s telling them about the raid,” said Dusty, somewhat unnecessarily. “They’re saying they have to pack up and leave this place.”
“That’s probably a good idea,” acknowledged Algy. “If the soldiers knew about the first place they’re likely to know about this one too.”
“That’s all very well,” said Dusty. “But what about us?”
Barnes shrugged. “Our orders were to deliver the documents, and we’ve done that. We can do whatever we like now as far as the secret service is concerned. I vote for going home. What about you two?”
“I can’t,” said Algy. “I have to get my friends out of prison somehow. If you can drive me to a spot somewhere near the prison, I’ll stay there and do what I can for them. You two can have the car if you like; you should be able to bluff your way through, as Dusty speaks the language.”
“And assuming you get your friends out of prison, how would you be getting back?” inquired Barnes.
“Well, they definitely came by plane, and unless I’m mistaken that’s what we’ll be going home in,” declared Algy. “There’s another member of our team that I didn’t see at the safe house; he’s probably staying with the plane. That’s how we usually operate in these situations.”
“And how are you planning to get your friends out of the prison?” queried Dusty, incredulously.
“I don’t know,” admitted Algy. “That takes some thinking about.”
Dusty and Barnes exchanged a glance. “Could you use two more people?” inquired Barnes, at last. “We wouldn’t mind helping you out, if we can.”
Algy stared at them in astonishment. “Are you serious?”
“Yes. You got us out of a jam. It seems only fair that we return the favor. Besides, I reckon we’d have a better chance of getting out in a plane.”
“It’ll be all our heads on the line if something goes wrong,” warned Algy.
Barnes shrugged. “Our heads were on the line the moment we started this thing, anyway.”
“That’s the spirit,” said Algy, grinning as he clapped him on the back.
Dusty rubbed his hands. “So when do we start?”
Algy nodded towards the door. “Now.”
&&&
The bus was freezingly cold, and Ginger shivered as he snuggled lower into his coat for comfort. Biggles looked at him with some concern, but no conversation passed between the two of them. The rattle the bus made as it clattered down the bumpy roads was loud enough to drown out even shouts.
It was a relief when the journey finally came to an end, outside the doors of a gray, grim-looking building with barred windows. Expressionless guards in uniform with weapons of all descriptions milled about.
The prisoners were made to get out of the bus and form a straggling line in the clearing just in front of the building’s main entrance. Having joined the line somewhere in the middle, there was nothing very much for Biggles to do as he and the other prisoners waited for their captors to decide what was to be done with them.
Idly, he allowed his gaze to wander, and his heart leapt as he saw a row of planes in front of them, perhaps some four or five hundred yards away. He glanced at Ginger and saw that he too had seen the planes, but again neither of them spoke. Truth be told, there was nothing much for either of them to say.
After about five or ten minutes, the prisoners were led into the gray building and thrust into a large cell that already contained two or three prisoners. The door clanged shut behind them with a horrible finality.
Ginger and Biggles found themselves a place to sit just beside the door and exchanged glances.
“Well,” said Ginger. “Here we are.”
“Yes,” agreed Biggles. “Here we are.”
“What are we going to do now?”
“I don’t know. I suppose someone will have to come by sooner or later to bring us some food—at least, I hope they will. Perhaps we can try something then, if there aren’t too many of them. If we can get out we should be able to steal a plane.”
Ginger cupped his chin in his hands and stared moodily at the stone floor. “I wonder what happened to poor old Algy,” he said, after a minute.
“That’s something we shall have to find out after we escape.”
Dark had fallen outside, and there was little light inside the cell to provide illumination. Time seemed to drag on slowly. An hour passed, and then another. Ginger, tired out with the day’s exertions, soon curled up against the wall and fell asleep, leaving Biggles alone with his thoughts.
Another hour passed, and then the cell door was unlocked and pushed open. Biggles jumped to his feet, and Ginger jerked awake, but it was clear from the amount of guards present that any attempt at escape would only end badly.
The prisoners were once again made to get into a line and then led into a large room.
There were three men standing at the head of the room, one, a portly man with a mustache; the second, a tall dark man with cold eyes. But it was the third man, tall and slim, with a sardonic sneer curling his lips, that Biggles’ eyes went to first.
It was Erich Von Stalhein.
&&&
It took them some time to drive to the prison. Dark had fallen by the time they pulled up a few hundred yards away from it. Algy eyed the gray forbidding building in front of them and said, “Cheerful sort of place, isn’t it?”
“It’s likely to become very cheerful if we get caught,” growled Dusty. “Come on. We’d better leave the car here; we might want it later.”
“Or perhaps not,” murmured Algy, whose eye had been caught by the row of single-seaters he could see just beyond the fence that surrounded the area in front of them. “I can see planes there. In a pinch, we might be able to fly our way out.”
“Do you seriously think that these chaps are going to let you walk up to their aircraft and just take them?” asked Dusty incredulously.
“I wasn’t going to ask them for permission,” retorted Algy, with a grin. “Anyway, come on. Let’s get a dekko at the place before we decide what we should do.”
The three of them made a quick circuit of the outskirts of the prison, keeping to the bushes and shadows to avoid detection. This took the better part of half an hour, and all of their nerves were on edge by the end of it.
“It doesn’t look like an easy place to break into,” said Barnes, doubtfully, as they retreated to a safe distance to talk the position over. “Or break out of, for that matter.”
“Anything can be broken into or out of, given enough time and effort,” said Algy, although he too was conscious of feelings of disappointment. The prison did seem to be very well guarded.
“I suppose your friends are in there?” added Dusty. “We would be in a nice mess if we broke into the place and found that they were somewhere else.”
“That should be easy enough to find out,” said Algy.
“Why? What are you planning to do, send a radio message?”
“Something like that,” replied Algy, with a grin. He walked back to the fence and was just looking back to see if the others were following when, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a car drive into the enclosure from the main gate.
“Wonder who that is?” muttered Barnes.
“Likely one of the brass hats or whoever it is that runs this place,” said Algy. “Or perhaps—”
The words died on his lips. The car had just pulled up to the prison building. The passenger door opened and a man got out. Algy bit his lip to keep from crying out with surprise.
It was Erich Von Stalhein.
Well, we’ll, I was wondering when good old Erich would put in an appearance. By the look of it, Soppy, they all seem to be in more or less the same place now, so hopefully, they stand a good chance of getting out of there in one piece.
ReplyDeleteIf Erich doesn't get all of them first!
ReplyDeleteIt's Erich's one ambition to get all four of them together.
ReplyDeleteYes. It's quite sad that even when he does manage to collect all four, one of them always ends up slipping away...
ReplyDelete