What is it built of - wood, steel, concrete or what?'
'Concrete. It's a double bridge. The railway goes underneath and the road runs above it.'
'That's excellent; concrete cracks very easily.'
'What do you mean?'
'That bridge is going up in a cloud of dust and pebbles.'
Ludwig stared aghast. 'That bridge cost nearly five million pounds to build. Lovitzna would throw a thousand fits.'
'Let 'em. 'They can tie themselves up in convulsions as far as we're concerned once the bridge is down.'
'They'll complain.'
`So will you. You will be most upset, and send them a note asking what the dickens they mean by destroying the bridge, pointing out that by severing commercial relations they are deliberately trying to cause trouble.'
`But they won't believe that.'
'Of course they won't; neither will any one else, but that doesn't matter. My dear boy, that is what is called diplomacy. Maltovia will sit with its tongue in its cheek while all the nations who dislike Lovitzna and her big ally will rock with laughter. Naturally, under the pretence of
being alarmed, the princess will be justified in moving her most loyal regiments up to the frontier to watch her interests. At present, such a move would be regarded as a threat, almost an act of war, but the destruction of the bridge would provide a valid excuse.'
'My word! I wish you were Prime Minister of Maltovia,' muttered Ludwig admiringly.
haven't finished yet. We've still got Klein to deal with, and this is how I suggest we do it.
When the bridge goes up the Maltovian government will at once show its friendly spirit by offering to help build a new one, an even better one. They will, at the same time, declare their intention of building a new high road to that corner of the state. This, of course, will need money, for which it will be necessary to raise a loan of, say, ten million pounds. You will go to Mr Klein and ask him to lend you that sum. When he says - as he certainly will - that there is nothing doing, you will express your regret and say that if he can't oblige you, you will have to find some one else who will. You will then put the loan forward to one of the big friendly powers. They, seeing what is in the wind, will find the cash, and once they've got money in the country they'll take jolly good care to send some one to keep an eye on it. Then Mr Klein, if he stays, will have to watch his p's and q's.'
Ludwig was pale with excitement. 'How are you going to blow up the bridge?' he asked breathlessly.
Biggles looked pained. 'Me? Lovitzna will do that.' lovitzna? What ... how ... ?'
'You'll see,' nodded Biggles calmly. 'By the way, what has happened to the two machines we shot down this morning? Has Lovitzna said anything about them yet?'
No, but I expect there will be a fine old row. The pilots who got back will say what happened. We shall get a stiff
note from the Lovitznian government. Goodness knows how we shall answer it.'
'You've no need to worry on that score. The princess will not have to look for an excuse.
All you need do when the note comes in is raise your eyebrows and say, "Indeed! If you will explain to us what Lovitznian aeroplanes were doing over Maltovia, then we will go into the matter and endeavour to find out who is to blame." That will give them something to chew their pens over. It should take them a long time to find a reasonable excuse for flying over Maltovia. Don't you see that they will be in a cleft stick? They daren't say that they ordered the machines to fly over Maltovia because that would be an act of war in flagrant violation of international law; to save their faces they can only say that their pilots must have lost their way, in which case you will simply tell them to blame their pilots, not us. You might send some troops out to the crashes to salve anything worth saving. One last thing. I want you to send some one you can trust, a motor-cyclist dispatch rider for preference, up into the north-east corner of the country.
He will watch the sky and make a careful note of what he sees.'
'But he won't see anything. There is no flying up there.' 'There will be, I think, tomorrow morning.'
'What makes you think that?'
'A little bird has whispered in my ear.'
'What bird?'
Biggles smiled. 'Perhaps I had better explain. I told Bethstein that we should do a patrol up there at dawn to-morrow. If the air there is full of Lovitznian fighters trying to get us, it will prove - since we have told no one else - that Bethstein is in communication with the enemy. It will also serve other purposes. It will keep the Lovitznian fighters out of the way, and enable us - providing your
man is smart enough to count them - to get an idea of the enemy's aerial strength.'
'And what are you going to do?'
shall be waiting over this city for the Lovitznian two-seater, which will, I hope - since we shall be assumed to be out of the way - take the opportunity of slipping across on a reconnaissance.'
'And you will shoot it down in flames?'
`Not if I can prevent it. I shall endeavour to persuade the pilot to land.'
'What will you do with him?'
'Hand him over to you to pop into a nice strong prison cell where he can be forgotten for the time being.'
'And the machine?'
'That's what I really want.'
'For what purpose?'
'To drop a bomb on the Nieper bridge. You see, if a Lovitznian aeroplane blows up a Lovitznian bridge, Lovitzna can't very well accuse Maltovia, can she?'
Ludwig stared at Biggles like a man in a dream. 'Yes,' he said, as though he was talking to himself, 'we needed some one like you on our side.'
Biggles smiled as he stood up. 'Well, Ludwig, that's my idea of the lines on which we should work. Now you run along and do your part. Not a word to a soul, except, of course, the princess. Get your uncle back as quickly as possible. We are going to get some sleep, for we look like having a busy day tomorrow. Goodnight.'
There was a new spring in Ludwig's stride as he left the room.
Chapter 10
Combat!
It was a bleak morning, with frosty stars twinkling in the sky and a raw wind blowing from the north, when, at five o'clock, the three airmen let themselves quietly out of the hotel and, with extra sweaters and their flying-kit over their arms, made their way to the aerodrome. Smyth and Carter were awaiting them, and to them Biggles announ-ced himself satisfied with the arrangements they had made for the housing of the aircraft and stores. It was crude, but, with fir branches covering the roof of the shelter - it was no more than that - it would be practically impossible to see it from above. A lane, flanked by the trees that had been felled, gave access to the aerodrome itself.
After a glance round, Biggles declared his intention of taking off right away. 'I want to be at twenty thousand, possibly higher, by daybreak, so the more sweaters we can get on under our flying-kit, the better; we shall need them, if I know anything about it. Stand by, Smyth, until we get back.'
'Very good, sir.'
Biggles turned to Ginger. 'I want you to obey orders to the letter,' he said curtly. 'You know the scheme. We want to force a machine down intact if we can. If not - well, we'll shoot it down, anyway. But you keep out of it if you can. I can't say definitely that you are not to take part in anything that may transpire, because an exceptional opportunity might come your way, in which case it would
be foolish not to take advantage of it. But your chief business is to watch; watch how Algy and I go to work if we attack anything; at the same time you must watch your own tail. We may, of course, draw blank; on the other hand, we might run into a two-seater with an escort of scouts; these chances are all on the boards, so watch your step. All right; if every one is ready we'll get off.'
The engines were started, and after they had been run up to make sure that they were giving their revs, the machines taxied down the lane to the open field. The sky was just beginning to turn grey in the east as the machines took off in formation with Biggles at the point of the V, and after circling the aerodro
me once or twice he struck off on a north-easterly course, which, as it happened, took them over General Bethstein's house.
At least, Biggles assumed it was the house, for there was only one, and its location and tree-girt drive agreed with Algy's description of it. As he approached, at a height of rather less than a thousand feet, he saw light pour from a window as if a curtain had been hurrieclly dragged aside. 'Looking to see which way we're going, I'll bet,' he mused, as he began to climb for height.
Up, up, up, and ever upward he held the nose of his machine, still heading towards the north-east corner of the little state, noting landmarks all the way, and not until his altimeter registered twelve thousand feet did he make a wide turn and begin to fly back over his course. 'The sky turned grey, from grey slowly to lavender, and then to pale blue. In spite of the cold, it looked like being a fine clay. At eighteen thousand feet, with Janovica looking like a collection of dolls' houses far to the south-west, he altered his course again, this time to north-east by east, to bring the formation into a position that would intercept any-thing approaching from the direction of Lovitzna. And still he climbed. At twenty thousand, however, he levelled out, and throttled back to the slowest cruising speed his machine could hold and yet maintain altitude.
Time and time again he pushed up his goggles and peered long and carefully round the end of his windscreen into the north-east, but from horizon to zenith the blue was unbroken. To and fro he led the formation, ever watching the north-east, with the city of Janovica always in sight in the far distance. Ten minutes passed; twenty, and there was still no sign of the enemy. He looked over his shoulder at Algy, sitting like a dummy some twenty yards behind and to the left of him. Algy caught his eye and pulled a long face. Biggles shrugged his shoulders and returned to his vigil. Once his heart missed a beat as his eye caught a movement far below, but it was only an eagle, and he watched it sail past bound for an unknown destination.
A few minutes later a tiny speck appeared against the blue, considerably lower than they were. Quickly he pushed up his goggles to make sure that it was not a spot of oil on a lens, but no, it was still there. Joyfully he shook his wings and changed direction, flying directly into the orb of the sun, but never for an instant taking his eye off the speck.
Magically, it seemed, it grew in size until it became an aeroplane, and a minute or two later he saw that it was a big, three-engined machine. He noticed, too, that it held steadily on its way, flying a direct course that would, in about twenty minutes to half an hour, take it to Janovica. It drew level with the three single-seaters and then passed by, a good five thousand feet below and two miles to the west. Slowly, in order not to disturb the formation, Biggles turned, and then, putting down his nose, he tore down behind the stranger. In the usual curious way, it seemed to float up towards them, and a grim smile hovered about his lips as he picked out the brown crosses of Lovitzna.
He was now so close that he could see, through the crisp air, every detail of the big machine, which was of a type unknown to him, a tri-motored cantilever monoplane with very tapered wings. 'The thing that amazed him at first was the careless behaviour - or else it was supreme self-confidence - of the one gunner, who, with his elbows resting on the side of his gun-mounting, and his chin cupped in the palms of his hands, was gazing down at the scenery with the casual disinterest of a railway traveller. Biggles then remembered that the Maltovian Air Force was supposed to be miles away, and assumed that this accounted for the gunner's calm assurance.
This attitude, however, was not to last much longer. Swiftly, with his guns aligned, Biggles drew nearer and nearer until he was not more than thirty feet behind, and just above the bomber, with the gunner still completely oblivious of his presence. Had his intention been the destruction of the machine the matter would have ended there and then, and the quite useless gunner might never have known whence came the shots that killed him. But Biggles had set himself a more difficult task. He wanted the machine intact, although whether or not he would succeed in this depended, he knew, upon the quality of the pilot. If he was a brave man, and he would need to be brave to face what was coming, he would fight to the bitter end, and the machine would inevitably crash. On the other hand, if he was a normal human being, with only an ordinary amount of courage, he would soon see that his hour had come, and make the best of a bad job by going down and landing at the first convenient place.
Biggles opened the proceedings by firing a short burst over the big machine, and his lips parted in a whimsical smile at the gunner's consternation. For perhaps three seconds he stared up white-faced at the three machines sitting on his tail, then he threw up his hands and disappeared from sight. Biggles assumed that he had gone through to speak to the pilot, and in this he soon saw that he was correct, for, by diving slightly, he could see the two Lovitznian airmen together in the glass-enclosed cockpit. Seeing that they were both looking at him, he leaned out as far as he could and jerked downwards with his gloved hand. The order was obvious, but it did not, however, suit the pilot of the big machine, for he immediately began to turn away; but he straightened out again with alacrity when Algy raced up on that side of him and fired a short burst across his nose.
The big machine was now flying straight again on its original course, almost hemmed in by the three fighters, and in that position it continued while several minutes passed.
Again Biggles saw the pilot staring at him, and again he jabbed downwards, but as the other ignored the commands his patience gave out. Bringing his nose round, and praying that he would not hit anything vital, he deliberately fired a few shots into the machine.
That they took effect was clear, for the pilot at once cut out his engine and began gliding down. Biggles followed, still pointing sternly downwards, and when he got a nod from the man in the pilot's seat of the big machine, he knew that he had won. 'If, after that, you try any funny tricks, my lad, you're for the high jump,' he muttered savagely to himself.
Glancing down, he saw to his surprise that they had almost reached Janovica, for in the excitement of the chase he had forgotten all about the city. Turning in his seat, he beckoned Ginger to come closer, and pointed to the aerodrome, an indication that he - Ginger - was to lead the way in; then, looking back at the enemy pilot, he made him understand that he was to follow, which he did, as meekly as a lamb. Biggles did not blame him for that; he would have been a fool to do othenvise.
If any blame attached to any one it was to the gunner, who had so unpardonably been caught off his guard, and thus let his pilot down.
Ginger landed first, to be followed in close order by the Lovitznian machine, and then the other two fighters. Biggles taxied tail up to the foreigner and waited for the pilot to alight before he switched off, then jumped down and ran towards him. The two Lovitznians raised their hands in token of surrender.
'Do you speak English?' asked Biggles, curtly.
'The men shook their heads; it was obvious that they did not.
Biggles pointed to the lane through the trees. 'March!' he said. There could be no mistake about his meaning, and the little party, encumbered in heavy flying-kit, moved slowly towards the wood. In addition to normal kit, the two Lovitznians were also equipped with para-chutes, which considerably retarded their movements.
Biggles was wondering what he should do with his prisoners when he saw a car racing down the road, and was relieved when Ludwig jumped out and ran towards them.
'You've got them!' he cried excitedly.
Biggles laid a finger on his lips, and handed over the prisoners to Algy before turning to speak. 'Look here, Ludwig,' he said earnestly, 'you've got to take charge of these fellows, and there must be no mistake. On no account must they be allowed to escape or the fat will be in the fire. Can you fix things up?'
'Certainly. I have made the necessary arrangements in case you brought it off.'
'What are you going to do with them?'
'Take them to a special quarter in the state prison.' 'Can you do that withou
t any one knowing about it?' 'I think so. The governor is a friend of mine.'
'Then see what you can do. I don't want Bethstein to know they are here or he will want to interview them and I don't want that to happen.'
'I'll take them along in my car. Not a word shall be said.'
'You realize that nothing must appear in the papers?' 'Leave that to me.' Ludwig had become a different man since the previous evening.
'All right, off you go.'
'I want to talk to you.'
'I haven't time now.'
have told the princess what you said, and my uncle is on the way home already, by air.
We telephoned him.' 'Good! We can talk about it tonight.'
'At what time?'
'Six o'clock.'
'That will suit me very well. I will call for you at six. Some one wishes to speak to you.'
Biggles threw Ludwig a sidelong glance. understand,' he said shortly. 'I'd like to have a word with you now, but you know what I hope to do; moreover, I don't want any one to see these two fellows. We'll go into things at six o'clock.'
'Very well, I'll get along.'
Biggles waited until the prisoners were on their way to prison in Ludwig's car, with his orderly sitting behind them on guard. Then he turned to Smyth. Is the big machine fitted with bomb racks?' he asked.
'Yes, sir.'
'Good! I hoped it would be. Sling on the two biggest you've got.'
'They're one hundred kilogrammes.'
'They'll do. Get them on as quickly as you can, and get Carter to look the machine over to find out where those shots of mine went. Don't trouble about them, though, unless they did any real damage.'
'Very good, sir.'
Biggles turned to Algy who was just coming out of the cabin door of the big machine. '
Anything interesting inside?' he asked.
'I'd say there is. Come and look at this.' Algy pointed to a bale of leaflets standing on the floor of the cabin. 'The string had already been cut.
'What the deuce are they?'
'I can't read what it says on them because the language is, I suppose, Maltovian, but I reckon they're propaganda - the sort of stuff both sides dropped over the lines during the last War. They must have been going to drop them over the city.'
14 Biggles Goes To War Page 7