The Firebird Mystery

by Darrell Pitt

  ‘We’ve gone to full power!’ Mr Doyle yelled. ‘But will that be enough…?’

  The monster swatted at the airship again. A metal hand slammed against the gondola. Glass exploded in all directions. Everyone cried out as they were thrown to the deck. Cold air poured inside. The Britannia seesawed. Mr Doyle and Jack helped the girls to their feet.

  Jack realised what was happening. ‘We’re not going up,’ he said. ‘We’re going down.’

  Mr Doyle joined him at the shattered window. ‘The creature must have burst the balloon.’

  The gigantic hand swiped at them again. This time they felt it slam into the side of the balloon and they were again tossed to the deck. A klaxon alarm rang throughout the ship.

  ‘Prepare for emergency landing,’ a voice announced, sounding far more calm than it had any right to. ‘Emergency landing. Emergency landing.’

  Crewmen burst past them.

  ‘Oh no,’ Scarlet said. The ground was rising to meet them.

  ‘Hold on to the railing!’ Mr Doyle yelled.

  They each grabbed a stabiliser railing running along the corridor. The sound of weaponry rang out as the other vessels opened fire on the metal creature.

  ‘We’re coming in too fast!’ Mr Doyle cried as the Britannia slammed into the ground.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Blackness. A piece of cloth moved over Jack’s face. Blinding him. Smothering him. He pushed hard at it and the material cried out.

  ‘Oh dear!’

  Scarlet Bell. The girl lay on top of him. She scrambled off.

  ‘My apologies,’ Scarlet said.

  Jack’s head hurt, but it was nothing that would not heal. Around them was complete chaos. The airship had crashed, embedding itself into the ice. Windows were destroyed. The floor was broken and buckled. Light trickled through the gap between the top of the snow and the window.

  ‘Apology accepted,’ Jack replied. ‘Mr Doyle!’

  Ignatius Doyle lay on the floor a few feet away with Lucy Harker in his arms. They gingerly climbed to their feet.

  ‘I’m all right, Jack,’ he said, rubbing his rump. ‘Landed heavily, that’s all.’

  ‘Thank you for saving me, Ignatius,’ Lucy said.

  ‘You’re welcome, my dear.’

  They brushed loose snow from their clothing as Mr Doyle shovelled it away from the nearest window.

  ‘We have to get out of here,’ he said. ‘The ship could explode at any time.’

  Jack peered into one of the staterooms and found a chair.

  ‘Good man,’ Mr Doyle said. ‘I suggest the ladies go first.’

  Lucy Harker climbed onto the chair and scrambled through the gap, with Scarlet behind. Then Mr Doyle turned to Jack.

  ‘You next, my boy.’

  Jack shook his head. ‘No, Mr Doyle. You next.’

  Mr Doyle looked as if he were about to argue, but instead accepted the offer from his protégé. ‘As you say, Jack.’

  The detective climbed out. Jack took one last look around before he followed him through the window and onto the ice. The Britannia had been completely wrecked in the attack—it would never fly again. A crippling gash ran along the rigid balloon from one end to the other.

  ‘I don’t smell any gas,’ Scarlet said.

  ‘It’s impossible to smell hydrogen,’ Mr Doyle told her. ‘It is odourless.’

  They started across the snow. The crew were abandoning the vessel, Captain Bardle among them. The air was full of smoke and noise. The other airships descending into the valley had begun to climb after seeing the assault on the Britannia. They were firing artillery and bullets at the metal monster from a safe distance. The creature was on fire in a dozen places.

  A number of ships were diving over it, dropping bombs. One ship hovered almost stationary, firing continuous rounds into its red eye. The creature kept reaching up to attack the airships, as if swatting flies. It turned its attention to the downed wreckage of the Britannia and started towards the vessel.

  ‘Run!’ Mr Doyle cried.

  His warning was unnecessary: everyone fled. Jack found it difficult running through the snow—they had left their snowshoes—but fear drove him on.

  Something hovered above his head, and he looked up to see a vast metal foot bearing down on them.

  Oh no, he thought. The foot’s going to crush Mr Doyle!

  Jack dived for the detective. He slammed into Mr Doyle’s side, pushing him out of harm’s way as the foot sledge-hammered down.

  Woomph!

  Snow and rock flew everywhere as the metal construct missed them by inches. But they were not the targets of the monster’s wrath. The leg lifted again as the creature thudded towards the Brittania’s remains.

  Ka–boom!

  As the metal creature scooped it up in a mighty claw the wreckage burst into flame. The heat was so intense that Jack felt it on his back. He scrambled to his feet.

  ‘Quickly!’ Mr Doyle yelled. ‘Over to the rocks!’

  A stony outcrop to their left provided some cover. Jack looked back at the creature. It turned to the barrage of airships firing at it and paused, as if in thought, swaying on its metal legs as it regarded the enemy. Then it drew back the Britannia’s debris and flung the burning wreckage at the assembled fleet.

  ‘The Voltaire!’ Mr Doyle said.

  The wreckage struck the French vessel. The Voltaire swayed, the Britannia clinging to it as if the two were engaged in a dance high above the Swiss hills.

  Oh no, Jack thought. No!

  The Voltaire burst into flames. ‘Good heavens!’ Scarlet cried.

  The mighty French vessel nosedived into the terrain. Jack felt his stomach turn over as men leapt from the burning wreckage in terror. The crash seemed to take an eternity. A blanket of heat slammed into Jack as the inferno melted the snow around them.

  He swallowed hard, sickened by the carnage. Clenching his fists, he wished he could do something to stop the creature.

  Lucy pointed. ‘Look!’ she cried.

  A dark shape moved across the landscape. It was one of the insect machines they had seen in the underground cavern. Jack realised now it was a kind of tank. He had seen pictures of tanks in books, but nothing like this. Its body was round with a rotating turret at the peak. A squat chimney poured smoke into the air. Supported by six legs, it scuttled across the icy valley like a giant bug.

  Jack despaired. How would they survive an assault? The tank came to a halt and the turret swung around.

  ‘It’s not aiming at us,’ Mr Doyle said.

  ‘It’s aiming at the metal man!’ Jack yelled.

  The turret pointed at the metal creature’s feet. The monster took a single step in the direction of the vehicle.

  Boom! Boom! Boom!

  Artillery shots ripped into one of the monster’s legs. The creature shuddered. It tried to take a step, but did not realise it had been crippled. As its left leg swung around, the foot remained stuck in the snow, severed from its mechanical knee. Putting its absent foot down, the monster overbalanced and fell face first into the snow.

  Cr—aack!

  The landscape shook as if the world had come to an end. The impact threw Jack to the ground. Snow erupted in all directions.

  Jack struggled to his knees. The creature’s got to be finished, he thought. It’s got to...

  On mighty metal hands and knees, the monstrosity crept towards the tank. The turret swivelled again—and fired. The projectile flew across the valley—and missed. The artillery round tore into the far wall of the gorge.

  A bomb hit the back of the creature. And another. Meanwhile, the other airships had not been driven back by the destruction of the Voltaire, and they now moved in closer and began a sustained bombing of the giant.

  The turret on the tank swung around again. It waited until the last moment when the creature lurched towards it, a huge metal hand reaching out, only feet away. The tank fired.

  The metal man’s head snapped back as a series of artiller
y rounds crashed into it. The hand hit the tank’s port-side legs and it staggered sideways. The turret aimed and fired more rounds, directed at the monster’s eye.

  Time seemed to stop. The metal face, smoke and fire pouring from it, stared blankly at the tank. The single red eye faded, the head dropped and the knees collapsed under the creature. Like the framework of a building, it fell in a jumble of jagged metal and fire, the ground shaking as it submitted to the earth.

  The creature did not move.

  Yes! Jack punched the air. The monster’s finished!

  Jack and the others went wild, yelling and screaming with delight. At the same time, a hatchway on the turret flipped back and two heads appeared—Mr Harker and Mr Bell. Each girl ran into her father’s arms.

  Jack and Mr Doyle followed at a more leisurely pace. The detective placed a hand on Jack’s shoulder. ‘I did not get a chance to thank you, my boy.’

  Jack stared at him blankly. ‘What for?’

  ‘For saving my life!’ he thundered. He looked serious, but his eyes twinkled with delight. ‘I’m impressed by you, Jack. But you must be alert at all times.’

  ‘Yes, Mr Doyle.’

  ‘Anything could happen.’

  ‘I know, Mr Doyle.’

  The man fixed him with a look.

  Frowning, Jack’s hands searched his pockets. Picture, compass, lock pick, beef jerky, rubber nose...

  Can opener.

  How did that get there?

  ‘You see my point,’ Mr Doyle said.

  The group came together as one. Jack and Mr Doyle slapped the two men on their backs, congratulating them on their bravery. The girls were ecstatic, but their joy was short-lived. The Voltaire was still burning and injured men lay all over the field. Just as they began to cross the muddy snow, Jack heard a sound reverberate around the valley. He stopped.

  ‘Look!’ he cried.

  A wide horizontal slot had opened high up in one of the hills. Two enormous doors slid sideways. A roar came from the interior. They stared breathlessly as the sound grew louder.

  An object flew out from the gap like a rocket.

  ‘It’s a mechanised glider,’ Mr Doyle said.

  ‘We call it an aeroplane,’ Paul Harker replied.

  Jack steeled himself for an attack, but the device flew straight over the valley and out of sight.

  ‘A fixed-wing vessel,’ Mr Doyle mused. ‘With an engine. Remarkable.’

  ‘Just one of the many miracles developed by Phoenix,’ Mr Bell commented. ‘Or one of the many atrocities, depending on how one looks at it.’

  ‘Knowledge is a wonderful thing,’ Mr Doyle replied. ‘As long as it is shared and respected. Secrets have too often brought down people, leaders and nations.’

  ‘I see that now,’ Joseph Bell said.

  Jack looked at Scarlet’s father. His face was ashen.

  ‘We must return to the bunker,’ Paul Harker said. ‘I hope the aeroplane is the only piece of technology that the Nazis have stolen.’

  Mr Doyle nodded at the remains of the metal giant. ‘Surely there is nothing more terrible than that contraption.’

  Dismay crept onto Paul Harker’s face. ‘Gentlemen, the weapons at this base could spell the end of mankind if they were to fall into the wrong hands. If the Nazis have them—God help us all.’

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Jack, Scarlet and Lucy were assigned medical duties while the others searched the base. Those injured in the attack were either airlifted to hospitals or taken to the Phoenix compound to be treated. The girls helped a small team of doctors from the airships, while Jack acted as a general assistant.

  He had just finished getting a glass of water for one of the injured soldiers when Mr Doyle appeared.

  ‘Jack,’ he said. ‘We’re having a meeting in the Phoenix boardroom. Would you like to join us? There are some things you should hear.’

  Mr Doyle looked worried. Jack followed him into the complex. The underground structure was massive. Jack wanted to ask the detective questions about it, but he seemed too lost in thought to talk as they passed through a series of chambers deeper into the mountain.

  They reached a circular room with a round table in the centre. Several people sat around it, including Scarlet, Lucy and their fathers. A number of men in military uniform were also seated, including a thickset man with a serious expression. Jack did not recognise him.

  Mr Bell stood and began by introducing Jack, Mr Doyle and the girls to the others. Then he introduced the newcomers.

  ‘This is Major Gerald Evans from the Navy and General Winston Churchill from the Army.’

  Major Evans was handsome. His face could have been used to advertise shaving cream. He was strong and fit; he seemed the type who would spend his leisure hours lifting weights for fun. At his side sat the smaller General Churchill. He could not have been more different. Rotund and balding, he resembled a bulldog whose toy has just disappeared down a drain. Jack wondered if the man’s face had ever cracked a smile.

  ‘I will begin by telling you,’ Mr Bell continued, ‘that we all face an immense danger, more terrible even than the Great War.’

  ‘I find that hard to believe,’ Major Evans remarked.

  ‘Believe it,’ Paul Harker said. ‘The Phoenix Society is centuries ahead in its technology.’

  ‘What is the nature of this danger?’ General Churchill asked.

  ‘Experiments were made several years ago to investigate the power of the atom,’ Mr Harker began.

  ‘The power of Adam?’ Major Evans frowned.

  ‘The atom,’ Mr Harker said, rather more firmly. ‘The basic building block of everything in existence. We have created a weapon called an atomic bomb. A mass of fissile material, in this case uranium, is assembled into a supercritical mass which results in a nuclear chain reaction.’

  ‘Excuse me, Father,’ Lucy interrupted. ‘We’ll need this explanation in English.’

  ‘English?’ Mr Harker looked annoyed. ‘Of course. The chain reaction causes a massive explosion.’

  ‘How big a blast?’ Winston Churchill asked.

  ‘Two atomic bombs were built by the Phoenix Society,’ he replied. ‘Each is the equivalent of approximately eighteen kilotons of TNT.’

  That’s a lot, Jack thought. A ton is a lot, so eighteen of them is more and a kiloton is a thousand of them.

  It was massive. Absolutely massive. Both military men stared in disbelief.

  ‘That’s incredible,’ Scarlet said.

  ‘You must be joking,’ the general said.

  ‘I wish I were,’ Mr Harker said. ‘We are talking about a blast radius of some two miles. Anything within that zone will be annihilated. People outside that area staring at the detonation will be struck blind. Later, there is radiation fallout which will kill people within days, weeks or months of the initial event.’

  Scarlet said to her father, ‘How could you be involved in such an enterprise?’

  ‘It was not our intention to create a super weapon. We were investigating alternative sources of power.’

  ‘The bombs were a by-product of our research,’ Mr Harker said.

  ‘It’s like holding the sun in your hands,’ Lucy said. ‘An amazing achievement.’

  ‘How many deaths are we talking about?’ Mr Doyle asked.

  ‘If exploded over the centre of London, it would kill a million people in the short term and the same number over the next five years through radiation.’

  Absolute silence filled the room.

  Major Evans jutted his jaw. ‘That’s preposterous.’

  Winston Churchill interrupted. ‘And you’re saying the Nazis now have control of this weapon?’

  ‘Two bombs,’ Mr Harker confirmed. ‘They can be detonated in a number of ways. A timed explosion. Or released from a great height.’

  ‘General.’ Major Evans turned to Churchill. ‘Surely you can’t believe in this claptrap about a doomsday bomb?’

  ‘We can’t afford not to.’ Churc
hill shook his head like a dog shaking a bone. ‘After seeing the weaponry assembled within this compound, and the metal giant lying on the ice outside, we need to prepare for the worst.’

  ‘But we don’t know where these bombs are located,’ the major pointed out.

  ‘As a matter of fact,’ Joseph Bell said, ‘we do.’

  Everyone turned to him.

  ‘Tracking devices are attached to the weapons.’

  ‘Tracking devices?’ Scarlet repeated.

  ‘They are electrical mechanisms that send messages through the air.’

  ‘Incredible,’ Lucy said.

  ‘We have been able to verify their location,’ Mr Harker said. ‘The bombs are on the Berlin Metrotower.’

  ‘But surely the German government can’t support this?’

  ‘Much has changed in the last twenty-four hours,’ General Churchill interrupted. ‘A coup was staged in the German parliament, resulting in the deaths of the Chancellor and most of the party leaders. The Nazis are now in command.’

  ‘And their leader is this man, Drexler?’ Mr Doyle asked.

  ‘Indeed. Anton Drexler, along with his protégé, Adolf Hitler, is now running the show.’ The general lit a cigar and started puffing on it furiously. He strode over to a map of Europe on the wall and examined it before turning to the others. ‘We stand on the verge of disaster,’ he said. ‘To halt this terrible calamity we must take up arms against the Nazis before they can use these atrocious weapons, these atomic bombs.’ He turned to Joseph Bell. ‘Can you disarm the devices?’

  ‘Paul and I can disarm them,’ Mr Bell confirmed.

  ‘Then we’ll need both of you,’ Churchill said.

  ‘And us,’ Scarlet interrupted.

  ‘Yes,’ Jack said. ‘Count me in.’

  ‘And myself,’ Mr Doyle said.

  ‘Where my father goes,’ Lucy said, ‘I go.’

  ‘My friends,’ Winston Churchill said. ‘This is not the place for young ladies or boys or...’ He glanced at Mr Doyle. ‘...even famous detectives.’

  Scarlet stood, throwing back her flowing red hair. ‘If it weren’t for Lucy and myself and Jack and Mr Doyle, none of us would be here. And no-one would be any the wiser as to the terrible crisis we are now facing. We are a team and we will remain a team. England is in danger and it is the responsibility of every man, woman and child to defend our country with every fibre of our beings.’