by W E Johns
Biggles looked up, a frown creasing his forehead. ‘You may have hit on something there. Come to think of it he carried it as if it was a fair weight. I know he said at Ankara, when I objected to him coming with us on the grounds that we hadn’t made provision for him, that he could supply his own food; but if that’s the answer he must have brought enough to last a week or more.’
‘Even so,’ persisted Ginger, ‘that wouldn’t explain why he’s determined, as he obviously is, not to let the case out of his sight.’
Biggles drew on his cigarette, looking at the aircraft. ‘He’s keeping quiet, anyhow. Maybe a bit too quiet. Ginger, go and see what he’s doing.’
Ginger got up and walked across the soft sand to the cabin door.
The others, watching, saw him go in. In an instant he was standing in the doorway again. ‘Biggles, come here,’ he called cogently.
CHAPTER 4
TROUBLE BREWING
SUCH was the note of urgency in Ginger’s voice that Biggles sprang to his feet and ran the short distance to the cabin door.
‘Take a look at this,’ requested Ginger, leading the way inside.
Biggles lost no time in so doing, and the reason for Ginger’s concern was immediately apparent. No explanation was necessary.
Alfondari’s case now lay open on a seat with the contents exposed. As Biggles’ eyes fell on them the corners of his mouth came down in a spasm of anger. The case was a portable radio transmitter and Alfondari had begun to operate it.
In two swift paces Biggles had reached it and knocking away the operator’s hands slammed it shut. ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ he rasped.
Alfondari looked up with a bland smile. ‘I was merely about to report our safe arrival,’ he answered smoothly.
‘To whom?’
‘My government, of course.’
‘And which government is that?’ rapped out Biggles cynically.
‘Naturally, the Turkish Government.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me you had a radio transmitter?’
‘I saw no reason to do so. What I carry is no concern of yours.’
‘We’ll see about that. You’re not sending any messages from here, or anywhere else while you’re with me.’ So saying Biggles picked up the case and handed it to Ginger. ‘Take that outside and dismantle it,’ he ordered curtly.
‘You have no right to interfere with me in the course of my duties,’ cried Alfondari with a show of indignation.
‘And you have no right to operate a radio outside Turkish territory,’ snapped Biggles. ‘I give the orders here. Any more tricks like this and I’ll leave you in the desert to make your own way home.’
‘But—’
‘Don’t argue with me. I said get outside — and stay where I can see you.’
Alfondari got up. He bowed, and putting on his slow, ever-ready smile, left the machine. He walked on languidly to a palm a short distance away and squatted on the tangle of small roots at the base.
Biggles watched him for a moment or two before rejoining the others. He was looking worried.
‘That’s settled that,’ said Bertie, cheerfully.
‘I’d like to think you’re right,’ answered Biggles, almost savagely.
‘He won’t send any more messages on this set, anyway,’ announced Ginger as he scrambled the mechanism.
‘I’m wondering how much information he was able to get off before we stopped him,’ muttered Biggles, sitting on the sand.
‘It couldn’t have been much, old boy; there wasn’t time,’ averred Bertie.
‘Time enough, perhaps, to cause a packet of mischief. Zorlan was right. I’d rather have a rattlesnake around than this slick nosy-parker. With a snake you do at least know where you are.’ Biggles looked calculatingly at Alfondari, still sitting with his back against the rough bole of the palm.
‘Who do you suppose he was in touch with — or trying to make contact with?’ asked Bertie seriously.
Biggles shook his head. ‘How would I know? He may, as he claimed, have been doing nothing worse than report our arrival; but I have a feeling he was telling, or intended to tell, someone where we had landed. No doubt he was hoping, by following Zorlan, to say why we’d come here. He probably knows the official reason but obviously doesn’t believe it. Don’t forget that here we’re uncomfortably close to more than one country that would resent our interference in the affairs of Zarat — if in fact that’s why we’re here. It wouldn’t take a patrol long to get here to make things awkward for us — to say the least. A hostile aircraft could be over in a matter of minutes.’
‘You mean, from the other side of the Iron Curtain?’
‘From any of the countries that would like to grab Zarat. If one of them arrived here this could be a hot spot. One thing sticks out a mile. We can’t afford to let this precious Colonel out of our sight for a moment.’
‘Now we’ve taken his radio what could he do?’ Ginger asked the question.
‘He might sabotage the aircraft.’
Bertie scoffed at the idea. ‘Oh, but look here, old boy. As he’s a passenger in it he wouldn’t be such an imbecile to do anything like that.’
‘He might if it suited him to keep us grounded here until such time as pals of his came along to pick him up. What pains me is we shall have to share our food with him. Now we’ve seen the inside of his case it’s certain he hasn’t brought any with him. That makes him a liar, anyhow.’
‘He must have known we’d find out,’ put in Ginger.
‘Not necessarily. It could be that he didn’t reckon on being here very long.’
‘What are we to deduce from that?’
‘One answer could be that he has friends not far away. Talking of food, it’s time we were having a snack. I was waiting for Zorlan. I wonder how long he’s going to be.’
‘He said he wouldn’t be long.’
‘I know that’s what he said. It’s a question of what he meant by not long. I fancy he was to meet somebody here. I didn’t see anyone as we flew over before landing, and had anyone arrived since, we’d have heard him even if we didn’t see him. I give it up. The whole business bristles with contradictions and the sooner we’re finished with it the better.’
‘Let’s have a drink, anyway,’ suggested Bertie. ‘We might as well.’
They were moving towards the open door of the aircraft when Ginger observed: ‘Here comes Zorlan now.’
They stopped and waited while the Professor, unsmiling, made his way down the rough slope of the mound, presently to join them.
‘Everything all right?’ inquired Biggles.
‘No. The person I was to meet has not yet arrived. That is not to say he isn’t coming. The meeting was arranged for today, but in such a place as this there is an excuse for unpunctuality. My man has some distance to travel.’
‘I take it that means we shall have to wait?’
‘Of course.’ The Professor was looking at Alfondari, still squatting with his back to the palm. ‘What’s the matter with him?’
‘I’ve had to take a strong line.’
‘Indeed. For what reason?’
‘In the first place he tried to follow you, and he got on the high horse when I made him come back. But there’s more to it than that. His suitcase packed a portable radio transmitter. We only knew that when we caught him in the act of sending a signal. I put a stop to that and took the instrument away from him. It has now been dismantled and is minus one or two vital components.’
For perhaps half a minute Zorlan looked Biggles in the face without speaking. Then, ‘Is that so?’ he breathed. ‘For how long was he signalling before you stopped him?’
‘Not long. Less than a minute, I think. He was sending in Morse, either in code or a language I couldn’t read, but as there was some repetition he may not have got beyond his call sign.’
‘I sincerely hope you are right. Did you ask him what he was doing?’
‘I did, without wasting words.’
/>
‘How did he explain his behaviour?’
‘He made the obvious excuse that he was merely reporting our safe arrival to his headquarters.’
‘Did you believe that?’
‘No.’
‘I warned you this man was dangerous.’
‘I am now prepared to believe it.’
Zorlan’s face was inscrutable. ‘It might be a good thing to dispose of him before he can get into more mischief.’
Biggles’ expression hardened a little. ‘Isn’t that going rather far in view of such evidence as we have?’
The Professor spoke succinctly. ‘Captain Bigglesworth, if that man is what I am now almost sure he is, he would destroy you with no more compunction than if you were a gnat that had settled on the back of his hand.’
‘If by that you mean he’s a spy I’m prepared to believe it. You say you are almost sure. I say that is not enough to condemn him. Beyond that I have nothing to say. My orders were plain. You are in charge of the operation. My responsibility is limited to your safe transportation and the preservation of the aircraft for that purpose.’
Zorlan went on in his softly modulated voice: ‘I see from your expression that you do not approve my methods. Let us have no misunderstandings. I hold no personal animosity against this man Alfondari, whatever he may be; but if, in fact, he is an enemy agent, the situation resolves itself into a matter of survival either for him or for us. He is engaged in a dangerous project—’
‘So, it seems, are we.’
‘I shall not deny that. But we cannot both win the trick. I have met such people as Alfondari before, and I can assure you that in order to succeed in his purpose he will allow no scruple to stand in his way. I feel the same way about him, and by this time he is, or should be, aware of it.’
Biggles nodded. ‘I take your point. So where does that get us?’
‘After all, what is one life compared with the many who may die should the people this man represents succeed in their object?’
‘We don’t know yet who he represents.’
‘We need not look far for the villains.’
‘Let’s get down to brass tacks. You’re talking about the people who would like to seize Zarat?’
‘Yes.’
‘And you think the sheikh would fight to prevent that?’
‘I’m sure of it.’
‘How can you be sure?’
Zorlan spoke slowly. ‘He told me so himself. Wouldn’t you fight in an effort to preserve your freedom and independence?’
‘I have already done so.’
‘Very well. The people of Zarat would have no chance. If they fight they will be wiped out of existence. There is no need to say more.’
‘We were about to have something to eat when you came back.’
‘Then let us do that. Other matters can wait. There is no urgency, but Alfondari must be watched constantly.’
‘That will be done. We shall have to feed him. He appears to have brought nothing with him.’
‘That is significant. He doesn’t expect to be here for very long.’
‘I had already worked that out.’
‘We can afford to give him food and drink. To allow the man to starve to death would be a long and tedious process. I’m afraid I have been guilty of carelessness.’
‘In what way?’
‘When this alleged Colonel — for I doubt if he has any military rank — first announced his intention of accompanying us, I should have demanded to see his written authority.’
Biggles smiled cynically. ‘He’d come prepared for that. If he’s what we believe him to be he’d have the necessary documents, genuine or forgeries, in his pocket. He wouldn’t be such a fool as to try to join us without them.’
‘Yes, you are probably right. As by this time he must realize he’s under suspicion, he won’t be surprised if I ask him to produce them. Meanwhile let us have something to eat.’
‘Would you rather go in the cabin or stay outside? It will be very hot in the machine.’
‘Then let us eat outside.’
At the mention of the aircraft Biggles turned to look at it, tucked in as far as it could be manoeuvred under the palms. Now that the sun was well past its zenith the slowly moving shadows of the fronds were painting the fuselage and most of the wings with transverse bars of black which cut the outlines into sections, as nature has provided the body of a zebra with protective camouflage. But the nacelle was still in the clear, the wind-screen glinting and the metal fittings glowing like white neon lights.
He turned to the others. ‘We could be spotted from the air,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘It might be worth while completing the job the palms are doing for us. There are plenty of dead fronds about. Ginger, you might collect some and arrange them over the exposed parts. It won’t take many minutes. It may not be necessary, but I shall feel more comfortable if we’re out of sight from topsides. Give him a hand, Bertie, while I deal with the grub department. Watch out for scorpions. This is the sort of place they like.’
Ginger and Bertie went to work, Alfondari watching with sombre eyes what was going on. He said nothing.
Presently they had a light meal, drinking with it bottles of cold soda-water from the refrigerator, perhaps the perfect drink in a hot climate. Some was given to Alfondari, still sitting motionless at the foot of his palm, head thrust forward on his hands, looking like a lizard waiting for a fly.
The day wore on in an oppressive silence and an atmosphere charged with unknown danger. Professor Zorlan stayed with the others near the aircraft, saying he could not fail to hear the approach of the men for whom he was waiting. He admitted he did not know whether there would be one man or several.
The sun, turning to the colour of blood and distorted by haze to twice its normal size, was fast sinking into the purple horizon as if exhausted by its own blazing fury, when Biggles suddenly raised his head in a listening attitude, eyes questing the eastern sky.
‘I hear an aircraft,’ he said. He looked at the Professor. ‘Could this be the man we’re waiting for?’
‘No.’
‘You are sure?’
‘Quite sure. He has no plane.’
A moving speck, reduced to the size of a mosquito by distance, appeared, seeming to be crawling up the band of pale turquoise that fringed the distant mountains, throwing them into sharp relief. All eyes watched it.
‘It’s coming here,’ said Ginger. ‘At least, we’re dead on its course.’
A minute or two passed, the rising noise of the power unit cutting the air into rolling waves of sound.
‘Jet,’ said Ginger.
‘It’s a MIG,’ decided Bertie, shading his eyes.
‘Keep still everybody,’ ordered Biggles crisply. To Alfondari, who had started to get up, he repeated with an edge on his voice: ‘I said keep still.’
Alfondari glared. He put a hand in a side pocket of his jacket. Biggles’ automatic was out in a flash, covering him. ‘If you move as much as one yard, or raise a hand, I’ll shoot you,’ he said, speaking distinctly but without passion. The threat may have been all the more convincing for that. At all events, Alfondari sank back on his haunches and remained motionless.
The Russian, or Russian produced, single-seat jet fighter came on, its wail changing note slightly as it lost height. Any doubt about its objective was soon dispelled, for on reaching the ruin-covered mound it went into a steep bank. It circled it three times, crossed it and recrossed it, losing height all the time, touching perhaps a hundred feet at its lowest point.
On the ground nobody moved. That applied to Alfondari, still covered by Biggles’ pistol. Whether Biggles would have carried out his threat had the man attempted to show himself is a matter for surmise. From his expression it is likely he would have done so.
‘He won’t dare to put that thing down on an unknown surface,’ guessed Bertie, referring of course to the pilot of the high-performance fighter.
His guess proved correct, for a few
moments later the machine headed away in the direction from which it had come.
Everyone breathed again.
‘Did the pilot see us do you think?’ Zorlan asked Biggles.
‘No.’
‘Can you be sure?’
‘Fairly sure. Had he done so he would almost certainly have made a closer inspection of this particular spot. Anyhow, in his position that’s what I would have done. Of course, he may have taken photographs.’
‘The aircraft had some marks on it. Did you recognize them?’
‘No. The machine is a Russian type, but it has been supplied to most of the Soviet satellites. I saw the markings, but all I can say about them is I’ve never seen them before. One seldom sees a MIG on our side of the Iron Curtain.’
‘What do you make of it?’
‘It’s possible the machine may have been on a routine patrol flight to check up if there was anyone here, although who would do that and for what purpose you’re in a better position to know than me.’
‘You think the visit was more or less accidental?’
‘It could have been, although we are then faced with the odd coincidence that it should occur on the very day of our arrival. If you want my frank opinion, as I prefer not to trust coincidence, I would say it’s more likely that Alfondari managed to transmit our position to someone before we realized what he had in his suitcase.’
With the MIG once more a speck in the final glow of sunset, Zorlan rose to his feet.
‘What are you going to do?’ asked Biggles.
‘Ask Alfondari one or two pointed questions.’
‘Do you expect him to tell the truth?’
‘I shall know if he’s lying.’
‘We already know he’s a liar.’
‘The time has come when we must know exactly how we stand with him.’
Biggles said no more. Zorlan moved towards Alfondari.
‘Good thing we decked our aircraft up with a bit of extra camouflage,’ remarked Bertie.
‘It was an obvious precaution after we discovered Alfondari had been signalling. I had a feeling we might have visitors.’
What Zorlan said to Alfondari the others did not know, being just out of earshot. Alfondari took some papers from his pocket. Zorlan read them and handed them back. After a brief conversation he rejoined Biggles’ party.
