by W E Johns
Briny’s eyes opened wide. ‘Why, yes, that’s right, sir,’ he gulped.
‘And I’ll tell you something else,’ declared Biggles. ‘When we get back I’ll let you tell a yarn right through without interrupting you ‘
‘You will, sir ?’
‘Honest. Only buck up about it. If you hang about much longer you’ll find yourself landing down the funnel of that perishing cruiser.’
Briny advanced to the edge of the cliff. He looked down and shuddered. ‘It’s no use, sir,’ he moaned. ‘I daren’t—’
‘Over you go or I’ll throw you over,’ snarled Biggles, pretending to fly into a fury. ‘Don’t forget to pull the ring!’ he screamed as Briny tottered into space.
Ginger put his hands over his eyes. He couldn’t bear to watch. He held his breath, waiting for the splash.
‘Phew! He’s all right,’ said Biggles, drawing a deep breath. ‘The brolley’s open, so he can’t take any harm now. Algy will attend to him. Your turn next, Roy. Don’t forget to slip your release gear as soon as you touch the water.’
‘Very good, sir.’ Roy stepped forward, and waited until Algy had dragged the dripping Briny into the flying-boat. Then he jumped clear.
His father gasped his relief as the parachute mushroomed out.
‘You go next, Flight-Sergeant,’ ordered Biggles.
The N.C.O. jumped without a word.
‘You’d better wait a minute before you go, to give Algy time to pick them up,’ Biggles told Ginger.
Ginger grimaced. He had made many jumps, but never one like this. However, he clutched the rip-ring with his right hand and launched himself into the void, head first, in the professional manner.
A shell screamed over the island; it burst in the air, spraying the rock with shrapnel.
Biggles ignored it. He jumped out as far as he could, and slipped the quick-release gear the instant his legs dragged in the water. Slipping off the harness, he swam to the door of the flying-boat just as Algy was dragging Ginger in.
‘Get a move on,’ he told Algy. ‘That cruiser’s coming up fast. Keep low for a bit when you take off, then she won’t be able to see us on account of the island being in the way.’ He pulled himself on board and sank into the spare pilot’s seat, wiping the water from his face. ‘Lucky thing those chaps carried brollies,’ he told Algy seriously.
‘Lucky thing I remembered seeing them, too,’ snorted Algy. ‘You might give me credit for something once in a while.’
‘Good work, old lad,’ agreed Biggles, ‘but we’ll talk about that when we get home. Just see about getting us there.’ He turned to Briny, and noticed that there was something different about him, although he could not make out what it was. His expression was disconsolate. ‘What are you looking so miserable about?’ he inquired.
‘I’ve lorst me ‘at at last,’ answered Briny in a broken voice. ‘It fell orf as I was comin’ down. You don’t know what that ‘at ‘s been through, sir. I remember once—’
He stopped as if from force of habit.
Biggles nodded encouragement. ‘Go on,’ he prompted. ‘What did you and your old shipmate Charlie do?’
‘Well, would you believe that,’ muttered Briny, scratching his head in confusion.
‘Believe what?’
‘I’ve forgotten what I was going to say.’
His confession was greeted with a yell of laughter.
‘Tough luck, Briny,’ said Biggles sympathetically. Then he turned back to Algy. ‘You’ll have to watch your step when we get over the North Sea,’ he warned him. ‘Don’t forget that we’re carrying swastikas and black crosses, and there must be a whole crowd of our fellows fairly pining to get their sights on one.’
‘That ‘s all right,’ replied Algy. When I left the submarine Sparks was tapping out a signal warning all ships and aircraft not to shoot at a four-engined Dornier flying-boat flying at a thousand feet. If Roy will get to the wireless cabin and get into touch with the Air Ministry, no doubt they’ll tell us where to land.’
‘That was well thought out,’ declared Biggles. ‘Good enough! Let’s get home.’
The four engines of the flying-boat burst into song, and she streaked away from the secret base that was a secret no longer.
CHAPTER XX
HOME
FORTY-EIGHT hours later, after landing at an R.A.F. Marine Base on the East Coast, Biggles, Algy, and Ginger reported to Colonel Raymond at the Air Ministry. They found him waiting for them.
Biggles, who was in rather low spirits at what he regarded as his failure to keep the secret base going, was more than a little surprised at the reception they received. It was certainly not what he had expected. Instead of criticism he found only satisfaction amounting to jubilation.
Colonel Raymond waved aside Biggles’s apologies for losing the base and his machines. ‘My dear fellow, that code-book was worth a hundred machines to us, apart from which you certainly made things hum for a little while. The work you have done more than repays us for what we spent on the base—in fact, you managed to do a lot more than we expected.’ He smiled. ‘Did any of you get any sleep at all?’
‘Not much,’ admitted Biggles. ‘But I don’t see that we did an awful lot—’
‘Rubbish. What did you expect to do—destroy the entire German Navy and Air Force? If any one unit achieves greater success than yours I shall be very much surprised. Directly or indirectly, you were responsible for the destruction of an ammunition dump and a marine store depot; you interrupted lines of communication which has held up the movement of German forces from Poland to the Western Front; you have sunk a submarine, a drifter, and a liner that was to have been used for troop transport in the Baltic. Two destroyers have been sunk, and you have captured one of the enemy’s latest marine aircraft. On top of that you get hold of the latest naval code—all without a single casualty and for the loss of only four aeroplanes which can easily be replaced. You certainly didn’t waste any time.’
‘But we’ve lost the secret base.’
Colonel Raymond smiled knowingly. ‘A secret base—yes; but not the only one we possess. We’ve been busy in the Baltic for some time past. Bergen Ait isn’t the only island that threatens Germany. But that’s for your private ear—perhaps I shouldn’t have told you. We sent you to Bergen Ait—I’ll be quite frank with you—because it was nearest to the German coast, and consequently the most dangerous—for the enemy as well as you. D’you know how long the Higher Command estimated the base would last after you took it over, before it was located by the enemy?’
‘Six months?’
‘Twenty-four hours at most.’
‘You didn’t tell me that,’ murmured Biggles reproachfully.
‘Naturally—we didn’t want to discourage you,’ Colonel Raymond informed him coolly. ‘But work it out yourself. You were in enemy waters, with hostile craft all round you, both on the sea and in the air.... No, Bigglesworth, it couldn’t last more than a few days at the very outside. When you went out of this door I never expected to see you again.’
‘We’re difficult people to kill,’ murmured Biggles, winking at Ginger.
‘Evidently. Well, that’s all. Believe me, we’re grateful for what you’ve done, and no doubt your work will be mentioned in dispatches when it becomes safe to do so. At the moment we prefer to keep quiet about it. Now take yourselves off and let me have a full report in writing on what happened at Bergen Ait; after that you can take a few days’ leave—but don’t go too far away.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because—well, you see, we may need you again.’
Biggles nodded. ‘Ihad an idea you might,’ he said slowly as he walked towards the door. ‘Goodbye, sir.’
The Colonel smiled. ‘Perhaps it would be better to say au revoir,’ he suggested softly.
*Mouldy: Torpedo. <<
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