Biggles and Son: Chapter 26.

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.

Ginger stared at Biggles’ unmoving figure lying on the ground and then stared around wildly. “What—?” he began, his voice strangled with shock. “Is he all right? Is he still breathing? What are we going to do?”

Bertie, still crouched at Biggles’ side, glanced up at Ginger through his monocle with obvious disapproval. “Here, I say,” he said, frowning. “There’s no need for hysteria, what? Take a breath, old boy, you’re not exactly being helpful.”

Ginger had unconsciously started pacing back and forth with maniac energy and barely heard Bertie’s remarks as he pushed his hands impatiently through his hair again and again. “A car!” he cried, suddenly. “We need a car!” His eye fell on Brechovich’s car, still standing by the side of the road where Algy had left it during his hurried escape. “There! That one!” he shouted, running towards it. “I’ll get it!”

“Wait—”Sebastian cried after him, but it was too late to stop Ginger, who was racing towards the driver’s seat of the car like a man possessed.

Ginger had reached the car and was stretching out his hand to the door handle when he was startled by the abrupt appearance of Brechovich looming up menacing beside him. Ginger, not having met Brechovich before, naturally had no idea who he was, although if he had it was doubtful that it would have had any impact on the subsequent events that followed.

Brechovich spat out a stream of Russian. Ginger had no idea what he was saying, but he got the gist of it from the Russian’s wild hand gestures: get away from my car.

“Sorry,” said Ginger. “I’m going to need this car. A man’s been shot. He needs to get to a hospital as soon as possible.”

The Russian gave him a blank look in reply and simply said, “You. Go. My car.”

“No,” said Ginger, through set teeth. “I’m not going anywhere. I need this car. Someone’s been shot. I’m a policeman,” he added, mistakenly thinking that this would help his case.

Instantly, Brechovich’s face changed, twisting into a snarl of rage. “Police!” he hissed, and in the next second he had produced a gun and was aiming it at Ginger.

Startled, Ginger fell back a step, holding his hands in front of his face in a futile attempt at self-protection. “Just a minute,” he spluttered. “What d’you think you’re doing with that thing?”

Apparently this was more than Brechovich’s command of English could understand, for the Russian simply shook his head and repeated, “You. Go.”

Stupidly, Ginger repeated, “I need this car.”

“Go!” The Russian’s face was red and the look in his eyes was almost animal-like with anger.

Ginger opened his mouth to say more, but just then a figure popped into view behind Brechovich and neatly smacked him in the back of the head with a large tree branch.

Brechovich toppled to the ground with a soft thud, revealing the flushed and triumphant face of Sebastian. “I tried to warn you,” he said, by way of greeting, “but you wouldn’t listen.”

Ginger, gasping slightly from the excitement of the past few minutes, said nothing and simply stared at the boy. “Don’t do that again,” he said finally, when he got his voice back. “He could have shot you.”

“Bit hard to shoot at me with a gun pointed at your head,” retorted Sebastian coolly.

Ginger gave him a look but said no more, opening up the car door and getting in. “Come on,” he said, waving a hand towards the passenger seat. “We’re going to get your dad to a doctor.”

&&&

In the meantime, Algy was having just as much, if not more, excitement.

Jane finally landed the plane after what seemed like days and days of flying. Her conversation during the flight—or to be more accurate, her monologue—only served to make the time pass slower as they flew, and after a while Algy had given up listening to her incessant chatter.

He glanced up with mild interest as they taxied to a gradual stop. “Where are we?” he asked.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” said Jane, coyly. “Don’t worry, we’re not staying. I just need to pick up some things of Stefan’s and then we’ll be off again. You’d better stay here and wait for me while I get them.”

“Really?” said Algy, not troubling to hide his surprise. “You’re going to walk off and leave me with a plane after going through all the trouble to get me here? That doesn’t sound like much of a plan.”

“You’re welcome to fly it, darling,” said Jane. “But there’re two things you should know before you try. One, we’re almost out of gas, but you should get a couple of minutes out of her if you push. That’s one of the reasons we stopped here. We need to refuel.”

Algy’s heart sank at the news. He considered the possibility that Jane might be lying, but ruled it out almost at once. There would be no point in lying to him about something he could so easily verify the moment her back was turned.

Jane smiled at him and began to get out of the Piper.

“Wait,” Algy called after her. “What’s the other thing?”

“What?”

“You said there were two things I should know. What’s the second one?”

Jane’s smile grew deliberate. “The second thing you should know,” she drawled, reaching into her pocket, “is that I’ve got another gun.” She pulled it out. It was tiny, and looked almost identical to the pink gun that Algy had in his pocket, only it was neon purple instead of bright pink. “Got this one to match my shoes,” she said, almost tenderly.

“What on earth—” began Algy.

“It’s going to be real hard to fly a plane with a bullet inside you,” said Jane, and then she shot him.

Go to Chapter 27.

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