Biggles Delivers The Goods

by W E Johns

  “That was noble of you,” commended Biggles. “What did the skipper say about that?”

  “He said the Sumatran was my ship and I could do what I liked with her. He wouldn’t be looking whichever way I went. So I handed over the rubber. He went on. I came back,” concluded Li Chi simply.

  “This is the biggest slice of cake we’ve had so far,” asserted Biggles. “If we can shift another thousand tons of rubber we shall be half-way home. We could never have got the job finished otherwise. We’ve sort of stirred things up on the mainland.”

  “Ah,” breathed Li Chi. “The raid was a success?”

  “Couldn’t have been better.” Biggles gave a short account of the landing, and the rescue of Algy and Major Marling—who stood listening. “Time is what we’re up against now,” he went on. ‘We always were, of course, but after this things are going to buzz. Tamashoa will be really sore. Singapore, and perhaps even Tokyo, will sit up and take notice when they hear about it. They’ll attack us by land, sea or air—perhaps a combined operation. It may take them a day or two to organise, but we’ve got to get really busy. I suggest, if you are willing, that you load up again with rubber and push off before the fireworks start.”

  Li Chi agreed that this was obviously the thing to do. He said he would get the work in hand forthwith.

  “We’ll have another conference presently when we’ve had a clean up and a rest,” said Biggles, and with the others went ashore in one of the Sumatran’s boats.

  “The Liberators should start coming in tomorrow morning,” he resumed, as they walked up the hill. “From dawn we’ll start one-hour patrols in a Lightning to take care of the Sumatran and see the Liberators safely in. The other Lightning can stand at ready in case it is required. I’ll take first shift. Until then we’d better put in some blanket drill.1”

  * * *

  1 Blanket drill: service slang for sleep.

  CHAPTER XIX

  THE PACE GROWS FASTER

  DAWN found the work of loading the Sumatran still proceeding under the tireless eyes of Li Chi—not so quickly as on the previous occasion, for casualties reduced the number of men available and the others were resting in relays after the night’s exertions. As soon as it began to get light Biggles took off in a Lightning and did a high patrol for an hour, watching the mainland for hostile aircraft which he felt sure would try to interfere. None came, however.

  “I don’t understand why they haven’t sent anyone out, but they haven’t, and that suits me,” he told Ginger, who relieved him. “I can only think that all their available fighters were washed up at Shansie and they’re a bit nervous about sending reconnaissance machines.”

  “I should say it’s more likely that there’s one dickens of a flap going on ashore,” returned Ginger. “They’re probably working out the best way of getting at us.”

  “Maybe,” agreed Biggles.

  Ginger took off, and Biggles went on to the bungalow where he found Algy, Tug and Henry, half dressed, all looking a trifle the worse for wear, sitting on the verandah. Major Marling and Lalla, they said, seemed to be having a private conference inside.

  “How long before the Sumatran can get away?” asked Algy. “She’s asking for it, isn’t she, sitting there in broad daylight for all the world to see?”

  “There’s nothing we can do about it except hope that the Japs stay at home,” replied Biggles. “She won’t get away this side of noon. Get yourselves squared up—all of you. You look like a salvage dump. The fact that you’re off a regular station doesn’t mean that you can sit and bind like a bunch of store bashers. There’s a Liberator in the shed doing nothing. Get it loaded up. Henry, take it to India. As soon as it’s unloaded send it back. The other machines will be here presently. Tug, relieve Ginger when he comes down.”

  The three officers thus admonished retired hastily.

  Still no enemy machines appeared, but Biggles insisted that the protective patrols be maintained.

  At ten o’clock the first Liberator arrived from India, flown by Angus, who reported that Bertie, Taffy and Tex, were following. The machine was loaded and taken back to India by Tug, leaving Angus on the island to rest. No sooner had the aircraft left when Bertie arrived. His machine was turned round, loaded, and taken back to India by Ginger. Taffy landed soon afterwards, closely followed by Tex. After some delay Taffy’s machine was flown back by Algy, who took with him written and verbal despatches for radio transmission to Air Commodore Raymond.

  The delay was caused by certain events that had so much bearing on the situation that they had to be incorporated in Biggles’ reports. They began when Li Chi came up to the bungalow for a cup of tea. He mentioned that he had been in the Sumatran’s radio cabin, and that the sky was stiff with signals, mostly Japanese, but as they were in code he was unable to say what they were about. He had kept a record of them, however, in case Biggles cared to pass them on to Intelligence Headquarters, India.

  “Just a minute,” said Biggles. “Where are those books and papers we grabbed last night at Victoria Point? I’m thinking particularly of those that were in the safe. There’s a chance that a copy of the Japanese secret code may be amongst them. There must be something important, anyway, or that interpreter chap wouldn’t have been so anxious to burn them.”

  The documents were produced, but as of course they were in Japanese they conveyed nothing to Biggles, who handed them over to Li Chi. There was no code book, but there were a number of documents that had been decoded, which came to the same thing, for they provided Li Chi with the key.

  “We’ll get this information to India right away,” declared Biggles. “You’d better look through your notes, though, Li Chi, in case there’s anything that concerns us.”

  Li Chi got busy, and was soon able to announce that there was quite a lot that concerned them. Briefly, it amounted to this. Penang had reported to Singapore that the aircraft stationed at Victoria Point had been destroyed by a sudden flood. Biggles smiled at this, for he noted that nothing was said about Shansie, or how the flood occurred. Obviously, Tamashoa was still trying to “save his face.” But Biggles’ smile faded when Li Chi continued. The raid on Victoria Point was thought to be of such importance that it had been reported to supreme headquarters at Tokyo. The upshot of this was, two transports, each carrying a battalion of troops, were to be sent north from Singapore for an immediate attack on Elephant Island. They were to pick up Tamashoa on the way. He would take charge of the operation.

  “That means the best part of two thousand troops,” muttered Biggles, biting his lip. “My word! We have started something. Well, we can’t do anything against that crowd—not if they once get their feet on the beach.” He unfolded his service map—a large-scale map of the area. “You know these waters,” he went on, speaking to Li Chi. “Which way will these transports come?”

  “The direct way, I imagine,” answered Li Chi, drawing a line on the map with a pencil. “They aren’t likely to go round the outside of the Archipelago—it would take them too far out of their way. They’ll come up the inner channel.”

  “We can watch them from one of the Lightnings,” said Biggles thoughtfully. He was looking at the map. “If they take the inner channel it means they’ll have to pass between Lakar Island and the mainland.”

  “Of course.”

  “It doesn’t look very wide.”

  “Between two and three miles. The actual passage is narrower.”

  “Plenty of water there, I suppose?”

  “Plenty. All coastal ships use the channel.”

  “These transports are coming from Singapore. How long will it take them to get here?”

  “That will depend on the speed of the ships. Allowing for a stop at Penang to pick up Tamashoa they should be here in not more than three days.”

  “That channel sounds like a nice place to chuck a few mines,” remarked Angus, who was listening.

  “The trouble is, we haven’t any mines; and if we had we haven’t equipment for
mine laying,” Biggles pointed out.

  “What a shame,” sighed Bertie.

  “How about borrowing some mine layers from some place?” suggested Tex practically.

  “I don’t know about that,” answered Biggles dubiously. “We can’t start slinging mines about on our own account; the Navy might have something to say about it, particularly if we sank one of their submarines. We were sent here to get rubber; not start a war of our own.”

  “I’d lay the mines and tell the Navy afterwards,” declared Tex.

  “If everybody started laying mines to suit himself there soon wouldn’t be any Navy,” replied Biggles sarcastically.

  “You might ask for permission to have a crack at the transports— somehow, if you see what I mean?” suggested Bertie.

  “I could do that,” agreed Biggles. “Something ought to be done about those grounded destroyers too, before the Japs get them afloat again.” He smiled. “With one thing and another we must have made ourselves unpopular with the Japanese army, navy and air force.”

  “Why not?” growled Taffy. “Take ‘em all on, I say.”

  “In offering to shift this rubber we took on plenty, without any trimmings,” averred Biggles.

  As a result of all this Biggles’ despatches to India comprised: First, a concise report of the events that had occurred, and a picture of the state that then existed. Second, a request that they might be allowed to suspend transport work in order to strike at (a) the troop transports, and (b) the destroyers. The first, he submitted, was vital if Elephant Island was to remain occupied. The second was an exceptional target.

  “If they say no to that, it’s good-bye to our island home,” observed Biggles, as he handed Algy the despatches.

  Algy set off for India, leaving Biggles on the island with Angus, Bertie, Taffy and Tex; and they were still discussing the situation with Li Chi when Ayert arrived to say that the Sumatran was loaded and ready for sea. Li Chi went off leaving Ayert on the island as before, and in a few minutes the Sumatran could be seen steaming westward. Biggles sent Angus up in a Lightning to provide air cover; then he sank down and mopped his face with a handkerchief.

  “Thank goodness that’s done,” he muttered. “This is getting really hectic. With more than half the rubber away inside a week I suppose we should be well satisfied. The Sumatran was a stroke of luck. What we should have done without her I don’t know. The second half isn’t going to be so easy. I reckoned on a month or six weeks before the Japs discovered us, and then another week or two before they could find out what was going on and take action; instead of which the cat is right out of the bag.”

  “If they’ll stay out of the way long enough to give us a breather it will be something, if you see what I mean?” murmured Bertie, polishing his eyeglass.

  “There’s nothing much for their machines to see now if they do come over, as long as they don’t catch the Liberators arriving or taking off,” answered Biggles. “I’m more concerned about the two transports. If we’re here for another week I shall be surprised. How we’re going to shift the rest of the rubber in that time I don’t know. Our only hope is to prevent those troops from getting here. If they land, I’m leaving. There’s nothing else we can do. It all depends now on what Raymond has to say. If he wants the rubber, then he’ll have to let us stop those ships.”

  “What about our jolly old labourers if we have to pull out in a hurry?” asked Bertie. “If we leave them here they’ll have a beastly time with the Japs. We couldn’t do that.”

  “I spoke to Li Chi about that a day or two ago,” answered Biggles. “He seemed to think there was no need to worry—but there, being Chinese he doesn’t worry about anything. He said these chaps can take care of themselves—hide in the forest or push off to another island; but after the way they’ve worked I don’t like that idea. If Li Chi’s junk was finished they might get away in that. Failing the junk, I suppose we shall have to consider taking them to India in the Liberators—that is, if they want to go. They may not. But we’ll deal with that problem when the time comes!”

  At this point of the conversation the party was joined by Major Marling and Lalla.

  “I told you to stay in bed, sir, to rest that leg,” said Biggles reproachfully. “When the next machine goes to India I think you’d better go with it, to let a doctor have a look at you.”

  “I shall do nothing of the sort, sir,” replied Marling stiffly. “What’s all this fuss about my leg? We didn’t bother about wounds in the old days—no sir.”

  Biggles looked surprised. “There’s nothing for you to do here.”

  “I’ve no intention of staying here,” said the major firmly. “I’ve discussed the matter with my son. We shall return to Shansie.”

  Biggles looked incredulous. “Shansie! Why?”

  “You seem to forget I have my people to look after.”

  “What about the Japs?”

  “To the devil with them.”

  “Yes, but who’s going to send them to the devil?”

  “I shall, sir. From inside the jungle I shall organize a guerilla war against the scum. They’ll be sorry they ever came to Shansie—yes, by gad! Nothing like sudden death always on the prowl after dark to get a man’s nerves on edge. I had some of that in the old days, so I know—yes, by Jove!”

  “How are you going to get back?”

  “Ayert has promised to find us a prahu.”

  “What about your leg?”

  The major flared up. “Dammit sir, I keep telling you there’s nothing wrong with my leg.”

  Biggles shrugged. “Okay—okay, it’s your leg—you should know. If you want to go it isn’t for me to try to stop you. I’ll take you across to the mainland in the Lotus.”

  “You’ll do nothing of the sort, sir. You are engaged in a military operation. Your place is here. We shall go alone. The matter is settled.”

  “In that case there’s nothing more to be said,” murmured Biggles. “I’ll have a word with you before you go about collecting your rubber.”

  “Good man. I was going to suggest it.”

  Here the debate was brought to an end by the arrival of Taffy, who had been out watching the Sumatran. He reported that she was well out to sea. Li Chi had signalled that all was well.

  “We’ll have another look at her before nightfall,” said Biggles. “For the moment that seems to be all. We may as well have a spot of lunch. Bertie, stand by a Lightning in case we have visitors. Tex will relieve you in an hour.

  The rest of the day passed quietly. Towards sunset Biggles himself went out in a Lightning to look at the Sumatran which, to his relief, he found still heading west at full speed. He was about to turn back when to his amazement, he saw an aircraft coming from the west. He went to meet it. It was a Liberator. Looking at his watch and making a quick calculation he noted that there had just been time for the first Liberator out that morning to get back. He flew in with the machine. In the cockpit was Ferocity.

  “You didn’t waste any time,” greeted Biggles, when they met on the runway.

  “We just slung the rubber out of her and refuelled,” said Ferocity.

  One by one, as daylight faded, the other machines came in. Last of all came Algy, to make a night landing.

  “You might have waited until tomorrow,” said Biggles, as they all went to meet him. “No use killing yourself.”

  “I’ve got a message from Raymond, so I thought you’d better have it,” answered Algy. His eyes were heavy-lidded from weariness, but he said nothing about being tired. “It’s about the proposition you put up,” he went on. “There’s nothing doing.”

  A frown appeared in Biggles’ forehead. “Say that again.”

  “You’re to forget about the destroyers and the troopships,” reported Algy. “You will ignore everything except the rubber until you are forced by enemy action to evacuate the island, or until fresh orders are issued. That’s what Raymond said.”

  “I see, thanks,” murmured Biggles.

>   “I call that pretty good,” sneered Tex. “Forget about the troopships, eh? We’ll be blown sideways out of this dump inside three days.”

  “And the destroyers! What a chance to chuck away,” growled Tug.

  “We look like getting rubbed out with our own perishing rubber,” said Ferocity, with bitter cynicism. “Trust headquarters to think of something smart.”

  Biggles’ eyes narrowed as he looked from one to the other. “What’s all this about?” he asked sharply. “You heard the orders, didn’t you?”

  “Yes, but—” began Henry.

  “But—nothing,” rapped out Biggles. “If orders say we’re to go on loading rubber we go on loading rubber.”

  “It looks to me—” sighed Taffy.

  Biggles cut him short. “How it looks to you has nothing to do with it, Taffy. How it looks to the High Command is what counts. Okay. That’s all. Get these kites loaded with rubber. There isn’t room for all of them in the shelter so I shall want some of them off the teak before daylight in case a prowling Mitsubishi comes along with a basket of groceries. If that happened we should have something to moan about. Get weaving.”

  Algy turned away. Knowing Biggles better than the rest he could sense his bitter disappointment. He also knew him too well to comment at that moment.

  Major Marling and Lalla departed for Shansie. Biggles saw them off. He did not expect to see them again. “If you want anything and can let me know I’ll see what I can do about it,” he offered.

  “We shall be all right,” returned the major cheerfully. Biggles went back to the runway.

  For the first time a full squadron was on the island.

  CHAPTER XX

  THE STORM BREAKS

  FOR two days peace reigned on Elephant Island. In the intervals between the comings and goings of the Liberators, now running to a regular time-table, there might have been no war within a thousand miles. Nevertheless, it was an uneasy peace, and an unnatural one, as Biggles was only too well aware. His eyes were turned constantly, questioningly, towards the mainland.