14 Biggles Goes To War

by Captain W E Johns

`We've got to get him back.'

  `That's impossible.'

  Biggles turned a disapproving eye to Ludwig's pale face. 'I've told you before about using that word,' he admonished him.

  `But how can we get him?'

  Ì've no idea,' confessed Biggles frankly. Ì've hardly had time to think yet, have I? Let us have a cigarette and see if we can work something out. This all comes of spies tapping your lines of communication,' he went on as he led the way into the wood. `The enemy Intelligence Service must be very efficient or it couldn't have known that your uncle was on the way here. I think I know how it's been done, too.' He took from Smyth the map that had been found in the Lovitznian machine. `Do you know anything about this place?'

  he asked, opening the map and laying a finger on the small area marked off in red.

  Ludwig looked at the point indicated. `Why, that's Bethstein's hunting-box ,' he exclaimed.

  Biggles nodded. Ì thought it might be something like that,' he muttered. 'I shouldn't be surprised if there is a landing-ground there. We'll attend to that in due course; we haven't time now. We must get the Count home before

  we do anything else.' Biggles sat down on an empty oil-drum, and stared thoughtfully at the ground. Algy and Ginger found seats near him. Ludwig remained standing.

  It was a quarter of an hour before Biggles spoke again. Ì can think of only one way,' he said at last, slowly. It's risky, and, I fear, difficult, but I can think of nothing else.'

  `What is it?' asked Ludwig, tersely.

  Biggles glanced up. Às an officer of the Maltovian army, and almost a member of the Cabinet, you had better know nothing about it. I'm going to ask you for a little assistance, though. I shall need two things.'

  `What are they?'

  `First, the name of a reliable Maltovian agent, or spy, in Shavros; I expect there is one. I shall also need the password, or whatever is necessary to gain his confidence. The second thing is a couple of suits of workmen's clothes - just ordinary peasants' coats and trousers.'

  `There will be no difficulty about either, I think. When do you want these things?'

  `Now. Just as soon as you can let me have them.' `But it is dark.'

  `That's why I want them now; I couldn't do much in daylight.'

  `You're not - thinking of going to Shavros?'

  'We shan't get your uncle home by sitting here, shall we?'

  `But they will shoot you as spies.'

  Ìf they catch us.'

  `Did you blow up the bridge?'

  Ì did.'

  `Then you can't get across the river.'

  Ì shan't need a bridge the way I am going.'

  `You mean - you are going to fly?'

  `How we are going needn't worry you, Ludwig. You trot off and get those things I asked for and bring them back here as quickly as you can. We'll be getting ready. How long will it take you, do you think?'

  `Half an hour - not more.'

  `Then go to it. Time is precious. We've got to be back here by daylight, or we may not come back at all. Off you go, and, above all, keep your lips as tight as an oyster. No one must know anything about this. Not a soul - you understand? Nevertheless, if you can find out exactly where your uncle is being housed, it will help us a lot.'

  Ludwig drew a deep breath, opened his mouth as if to say something, changed his mind and departed without a word. A minute later the others heard his car speeding up the road.

  Algy spat out a pine needle which he had been chewing. Àm I correct in supposing that we are going to spend the midnight hours fooling about in Lovitzna, instead of sleeping quietly in our beds?'

  `You are,' replied Biggles briefly.

  `What's the scheme?'

  Ì haven't got one yet, although there is a glimmering of something at the back of my mind. Our actions will be guided to a considerable extent by whether Ludwig is able to find out where the Count is being held.'

  `Hadn't we better snatch a meal before we start? I have a suspicion that it may be some time before we get another.'

  `Good idea.' Biggles turned to Smyth. 'Have you got any food down here, Smyth?'

  `There's some cold stuff, sir - a pie, bread and cheese, and—'

  `That'll do. Trot it out. We haven't time to go into the city. And start getting the big machine ready for the air.' `Very good, sir.'

  While they were eating Biggles explained his plan as far as it was possible. This was, briefly, that they should fly over in the big machine and land in a suitable field; one of them would remain in charge of the machine while the other two entered Shavros in the guise of peasants in the hope of effecting the rescue of the Count and bringing him back to the aeroplane.

  'The weakest part of that scheme seems to be having the machine on the ground all that time,' replied Algy. 'If we land anywhere near Shavros it seems to me that somebody is bound to spot it. What then?'

  Biggles rubbed his chin. 'It's a big risk, I must admit,' he confessed. 'We might be away for hours.'

  'Whoever goes after the Count might not get back before daylight.'

  'That's true.'

  'I think it would be better if we employed the scheme used for spies in the old days, in France. Let two of us be landed and the other one take straight off again, returning from time to time until he gets the OK signal to land and pick the others up.'

  'That's sound reasoning, but I think I can do it better than that,' went on Biggles. 'Let us compromise and put it this way. We all go over in the machine. Ginger and I will go into Shavros. You, Algy, will stay with the machine and wait on the ground as long as you are undiscovered. If you are spotted, or anything untoward occurs making it risky to remain in the field, you will take off and go home, returning every so often until you get a signal from us. If it is still dark we will signal three flashes on a torch; if it is daylight you will see us waving.'

  'That's better,' agreed Algy.

  'I think I can improve on that, too,' put in Ginger. 'Why run the risk of landing near the town? The farther

  away, the less will be the chances of discovery. Why not go to the field we landed in this afternoon? We know exactly where it is and we know that it has a good surface.'

  `But that's miles away. We shouldn't get to Shavros before daylight, much less get there and back,' declared Biggles.

  `You would, by going my way.'

  `How's that?'

  `Let's take Smyth's motorbike. He's got one on which he goes backwards and forwards to the city. There will be plenty of room for it in the machine. You can ride it and take me on the back a la pillion.'

  Ànd how are we going to get the Count back to the machine? We can't expect one motorbike to carry three people.'

  Ginger looked nonplussed for a moment, then he brightened. 'I've got it!' he cried. 'We could pinch a car. Or maybe the agent could get us one.'

  `Yes, that might be possible,' agreed Biggles. `There are drawbacks either way, but I'm inclined to agree with you that, taking things all round, it would be safer to land down in that wild part of the country where the field is than near Shavros. All right; if every one has finished eating we will see about getting the motorbike on board.'

  They soon found that there was no difficulty about this, for, like nearly all modern heavy bombers, the big machine was provided with a cabin door for the convenience of the crew. The motorcycle was lashed in an upright position, this work being just completed as Ludwig returned, staggering under a heavy bundle.

  `Here are the clothes,' he said, dropping the bundle on the ground.

  `Then we'll get into them right away,' declared Biggles. `You needn't bother to change, Algy, as you won't be

  leaving the machine. Did you get the other thing I asked for, Ludwig?'

  `Yes.' Ludwig dropped his voice to a whisper. 'Go to the secondhand shop at the corner of the Stretta Barowsky and the main square. The man's name is Gustav; he sells all sorts of junk - old clothes, old hardware, and all that sort of thing. He also sells cigarettes and tobacco. Go in and ask for a
packet of Cigaretten Greta, - he'll understand. That is the password. There is no such brand of cigarettes. If the shop is shut you will have to go to the side door.'

  `Does he speak English?'

  À little, I believe. In any case, he speaks German and French.'

  `That will be all right then. Many thanks, Ludwig; you'd better get off now. if you don't know what we are going to do you can't be held responsible for anything that may happen if our plans go wrong.'

  Ì have one more piece of news for you.'

  `You found out where the Count—?'

  `Yes.'

  `Splendid! That will halve our difficulties. Where is he?' Ìn the Hotel Grande. But he is watched.'

  `Where is the hotel?'

  Ìn the main square, not very far from Gustav's shop.' `Good, then we'll get off.'

  `How shall I know when you are back?'

  `You'll have to wait until you hear from us. We'll let you know as quickly as we can.'

  `Very well. Then I will return to the palace. Some one whom I need not name asks me to wish you God-speed in your venture. She will pray for your success and your safety.'

  `Tell her that our task is made the easier for her kind thoughts,' returned Biggles quietly.

  Àu revoir, Ludwig.'

  `Goodbye. I—'

  Ì think you are very brave men,' blurted Ludwig. Biggles smiled. 'rush, man. It's merely a national habit.'

  `What is?'

  `Duty to those we serve and finishing the job we start on. We'll be seeing you.'

  Biggles turned to the big machine as Ludwig disappeared into the darkness. `Let's get away,' he said briefly. `You and Carter will have to stick around, Smyth, to put flares out for us, or for Mr Lacey if he has to come back alone.'

  `Very good, sir.'

  `Got your pistol, Algy?'

  `Yes.'

  Ànd you, Ginger?'

  `You bet I have.'

  `Then be careful what you're doing with it. We'd better get these togs on,' he added, turning over the clothes which Ludwig had brought. `You can be starting up, Algy.'

  Five minutes later the big machine roared up into the night.

  Chapter 13

  In Enemy Country

  It was not an ideal night for flying. When they took off the sky was, admittedly, fairly clear, but as they droned northward, climbing all the time for altitude, the open patches became smaller as high cloud drifted down from the direction in which the machine was heading.

  'I don't like the look of that stuff,' declared Biggles to Algy, who was sitting beside him.

  Algy looked down at the vast, blue-black shadow that was Maltovia. Ahead, a thin grey ribbon wandered roughly at right angles across their course. 'Visibility is still fairly good,

  ' he opined. 'I can see the river ahead. We ought to have no difficulty in finding the field.'

  'It won't be so easy later on if this cloud thickens,' returned Biggles grimly. 'I smell a change in the weather. It was fairly clear when we started, for which reason I hardly took the weather into consideration. It's getting colder, too. If it starts to rain, we shall be in ice-forming conditions before we get back.'

  Nothing more was said. At twelve thousand feet, while they were still some seven or eight miles from the river, Biggles cut out the engines and began a long glide towards the frontier, his idea being, of course, to enter the enemy country unremarked.

  Ìf I can get her down without using the engines again no one should be any the wiser,' he observed as he strained his eyes into the gloom beyond the river, trying to pick up the field on which they had landed earlier in the day.

  Ì can see it! There it is, slightly to the left,' called Algy, who had opened a side window and was gazing down at the silent earth. 'There is no one about by the look of it; there isn't a light for miles except the headlights of a car on the road about five miles away.'

  `Fine!' declared Biggles, beginning to sideslip gently towards the field on which he now fixed his eyes.

  Slowly, the big machine dropped lower and lower, silent except for the faint hum of wind in the wires. A slow S turn brought the nose of the machine in line with the landing-ground, and a minute later the wheels were running over the soft turf. The machine ran to a standstill not far from the hedge.

  `Good! That's that,' murmured Biggles with a sigh of thankfulness as he switched off, for such a landing as the one he had just made is always a strain on the nerves.

  Ginger was already untying the motorcycle by the time the others joined him in the cabin, and a few minutes saw the little surface vehicle standing under the wing of the machine that had brought it.

  Àll right, Algy, we'll get off,' announced Biggles. `You know what to do. Stand by as long as things are quiet, but if there is trouble beat it for home. If you have to go, watch the whole area when you come back in case for any unseen reason we cannot reach this particular field. Three flashes on the torch will locate us; it will also mean that you can get down where you see the flashes. If we are not back here by dawn, go home, and you'

  ll have to use your discretion as to what to do after that. If you come back again after daylight watch for a white handkerchief being waved. Is that all clear?'

  `Perfectly.'

  `Cheerio, then.'

  `Best of luck.'

  Biggles pushed the motorbike off its stand and began to wheel it towards the road which ran along the northern edge of the field. Ginger pushed from behind. It was by no means an easy task, particularly as they took some time to find a gap through the hedge, which was tangled and overgrown, but in the end they managed it and stood on the road, which they now saw was in a shocking state of disrepair.

  'It doesn't look as though this part of the country is used very much, does it?' murmured Ginger, as he switched on the headlight.

  'No, it's a pretty wild spot,' agreed Biggles as he started the engine. 'Get aboard.'

  Ginger blew on his hands as he straddled the luggage bracket. 'I fancy we are going to find it a bit chilly by the time we get to Shavros,' he said. 'OK, Chief, let her go.'

  As the motorbike with its two riders moved down the road with gradually increasing speed, Biggles knew that they had started on one of the most difficult and dangerous tasks they had ever undertaken; but he kept his thoughts to himself.

  It seemed to Ginger that they were hours getting to Shavros. Actually, they covered the forty miles to the Lovitznian capital in about an hour and a half. The machine was capable of greater speed, but the roads were in a bad state, and Biggles pursued a policy of slow but

  sure. They met two or three cars, and an occasional wayfarer, none of whom caused them any anxiety or alarm. One or two pedestrians called out what was evidently the Lovitznian equivalent of 'Goodnight', to which Biggles, not being able to speak the language, could only grunt a reply.

  But with their arrival in Shavros he knew that their difficulties might begin at any moment, and here again their greatest handicap was ignorance of the language. For this reason he dared not park the motorcycle in a garage, although they saw more than one, both in the outskirts of the city and in the main streets through which they presently passed. Finally, he left it in what looked like a public parking place in the big square in the centre of the town, where several cars were standing, one or two with chauffeurs and the others empty.

  `This looks like the place where we get our car when we want one,' murmured Ginger, in a low voice, as he cast an appraising eye over the vehicles.

  Ìt will be time to think about that when we get what we came for,' answered Biggles quietly. 'Let us see if we can find Gustay.'

  They had no difficulty in finding the secondhand shop, but it was closed, the time now being nearly ten o'clock. A knock on the side door, however, produced a little, wizened old man with watery eyes and a furtive manner. He eyed the two 'peasants' suspiciously.

  `Gustav?' questioned Biggles softly.

  ja.'

  Einige Zigaretten Greta, bitte ,' murmured Biggles softly. The ol
d man started slightly. '

  Herein ,' he muttered,

  and stood aside to allow them to enter, after which he led the way to a small sitting-room.

  `Do you speak English?' asked Biggles curtly.

  À leedle, yes.'

  Biggles took a plunge, knowing that he had either to trust the man entirely or not at all. '

  Tell me what you know of Count Stanhauser,' he demanded. 'We have come to fetch him.

  '

  Briefly, in broken and often halting English, Gustav repeated the story Ludwig had already told them.

  Ìn what part of the hotel is he?' asked Biggles, when he had finished.

  `Der room twenty-von.'

  Òn what floor is that?'

  `You mean - der stairs?'

  `Yes.'

  `Der second.'

  Ìs he free? I mean, is he allowed to walk about?' `Yes, but always der two men watch.'

  Is it possible to get a message to him?'

  The old man shook his head. 'Nein - nod possible. In time it could be arrange, perhaps yes, but tonight, no.'

  `Well, we can't hang about here until the morning.' Biggles looked at Ginger. Ginger looked at Biggles.

  `Bit awkward, isn't it?' he said.

  Biggles did not answer. For a minute or two he stared into space, turning over the problem in his mind. At last he drew a deep breath. 'I want to avoid anything dramatic, if it is possible,' he said slowly. 'Simplicity is the key-note of success in this sort of thing.'

  He turned to Gustay. 'Do you happen to have a lorry?' he asked.

  `Lorry? What is dot?'

  À big motor-car for carrying luggage.'

  `No.'

  `Pity. Could you get one?'

  'Not at dis hour. Tomorrow - perhaps.'

  'Forget about tomorrow. I am only concerned with tonight.'

  'I have big hand-truck in der yard - der ting I vetch my cases from der station.'

  'That's better. Do you happen to have an old blouse amongst your stock, a blouse such as the porters wear, and a cap?'

  'You want to look like porter - ja?'

  'Yes.'

  The old man disappeared into the shop, and presently returned with a loose blue linen blouse and a peaked cap. Biggles put them on; they did not fit very well, but well enough. 'Get me a suitcase,' he ordered.