She smiled grimly as she remained stuck behind Gruber’s aircraft; he might have tried to copy Wasp and Dragonfly, might have tried to make a hybrid between them of the best they had to offer, but he just didn’t have the knowhow that Gwen Stone had. He wasn’t nearly the genius that she was.
And he wasn’t half the pilot that Abigail Lennox was.
A short burst ripped another chunk from the red aircraft and it faltered. Caught mid-manoeuvre, unexpectedly, Gruber hesitated, and the red aircraft swam into Abby’s sights.
She depressed the trigger.
Two shots came from her cannons, blowing holes in the enemy aircraft’s wing, but that was all before silence fell.
‘No, no, no, no, no, NO, NO!!!’ She screamed her rage, pumping the button on her stick and switching back and forth between machine guns and cannon, but it was no use, she didn’t have anything left.
Tracer rounds flashed past her cockpit and Abby realised that she had flown straight and level for too long. She pushed the stick forwards away from the bullets, the red of her rage replaced by blood rushing to her head as she dove away, heading back towards the city and the safety of the rest of her squadron.
Gwen hadn’t been able to remain sitting for long and she whooped and jumped up and down as Kitty shot down another MU9, her four that she had been able to see. Her celebrations were tinged with sadness, though, because she had also been forced to watch as, one by one, the Wolfpack and Night Witches had been shot from the sky, until only Baryshnikov and Polikasparov were left. She was too far away to tell whether any of the pilots had managed to bail out, but she certainly hoped they had, although many of them had been over Prussian lines when they had been destroyed and would likely be in captivity. They did take a creditable amount of MU9s with them, though, whittling them down to about half the original force.
The fight that truly interested her wasn’t the one over the city, though, it was the one taking place almost directly over her head.
Abby and Gruber had been circling the area where Gwen had been shot down, ducking in and out of sight behind the trees and each time she saw them the story was the same - the yellow aircraft stuck to the tail of the red one, snapping at its heels, but unable to finish the job.
However, when next they reappeared it looked like the dogfight was nearing the end and Gruber’s aircraft lurched from a hit and flew straight for a long second.
‘Go on! Shoot him! Shoot the blighter!’
Gwen went up on her toes in excitement, knowing that Abby wouldn’t let such a golden opportunity escape, expecting the red machine to be ripped apart at any moment, but the shots never came and she was forced to watch in shock as Abby dove away from the fight and flew at maximum power along the river, back towards the city, pursued by the two Barons that had been attempting to get her off of Gruber’s back.
She turned her gaze back to Gruber’s aircraft, hoping that Abby had only backed off because it had already sustained fatal damage, hoping that it would crash in short order, but it didn’t, it just flew across the river, back towards the Prussian lines. Gwen stuck two fingers up at him as he disappeared behind the trees and wished him landing trouble, then turned her attention back to the fight over the city, but there was nothing to see there either as both sides disengaged, backing off to lick their wounds.
She sighed and picked up her glidewings, grunting in pain as she looped the strap over her good shoulder and the weight pulled on the scrape over her ribs then began trudging towards Murmansk; hopefully someone there would give her a lift back to Vaenga and wouldn’t think she was a Prussian and shoot her.
She had gotten less than a hundred yards when something whistled over her head, almost low enough to touch and she ducked, wincing as her shoulder complained, but then smiled when she saw what it was.
‘Fancy a lift?’
Scarlet grinned at her from the cockpit of Hummingbird. She had the canopy open and was leaning on the lip of it as if it were one of Lord Bagshot’s racing machines and she was picking up a good-looking man from the side of the road, all while effortlessly holding the machine stationary just inches off the ground.
Gwen laughed and handed Scarlet her glidewings to stow before hopping onto one of the stretchers the Irishwoman had had bolted to the side of the machine so that she could pick up casualties.
‘So, where would you like to go?’
Gwen grinned. ‘Second star to the right and straight on till morning?’
‘Sounds good to me! Hold on to your hat!’
Scarlet laughed as Hummingbird leapt into the sky and banked towards home.
Chapter 29
Hummingbird was the slowest of the Misfit aircraft, so the rest of the squadron had landed by the time they got to Vaenga and the pilots rushed over to meet them.
‘Oh, Gwen, I’m so sorry.’ Kitty was one of the first to arrive and she put her arms around Gwen as she sat up on the stretcher, shivering, fumbling with the catch of the safety belt with frozen fingers.
The American quickly pulled back, though, at her stifled scream. ‘What? What is it?’
‘My shoulder.’ She could barely squeeze the words out between clenched teeth as she clutched at her arm, fighting to hold onto consciousness.
Kitty’s skin took on a greenish tinge at the sight of the dislocated limb and Gwen looked at it and forced a smile through her own queasiness. ‘Will you still love me if I’m a hunchback?’
Kitty couldn’t help but laugh and reached out to take her hand, but was pushed out of the way when medical personnel arrived and began lifting Gwen onto a proper stretcher.
The jostling set off explosions of black behind Gwen’s eyes and the world faded away again, but a sudden thought brought her back from the brink and she recovered just enough to clutch at Kitty’s arm. ‘Come with me, please. Don’t let them cut my flightsuit off.’
‘Of course, darling.’ Kitty nodded, biting her lip with worry and strode beside her as the orderlies carried Gwen away.
Abby watched her wingman being carried away, barely conscious, then stared down at the frozen ground, kicking at it angrily with the toe of her boot. Despite the fact that it had been the right decision and the only decision under the circumstances, it had been her order to make another run on the boats that had gotten Gwen hurt and Wasp destroyed and she couldn’t help but feel responsible.
She looked up, startled, when Scarlet planted herself in front of her and poked her in the chest.
‘I saw what Gruber did, the question is, what are we going to do about it?’
Bruce frowned. ‘What is she talking about, Abby? What did Gruber do? I saw him shoot Wasp down, but that’s just the fortunes of war.’
Abby turned to him and saw that the rest of the Misfits were also waiting for her answer. Apparently, they had been too busy with their own fights to see what the Prussian had tried to do, all except Scarlet. ‘Gruber made a run at Gwen after she bailed out. He would have killed her if she hadn’t closed her glidewings in time and gone into free fall. She was only a few hundred feet up, though, and couldn’t get herself back under control in time, which is why she’s hurt - she had a bit of a rough landing.’
‘What? I didn’t see that!’ Bruce was furious. ‘I wish you hadn’t told me and Monty to back off... Wait until I get my hands on him! Next time I see him in the sky I don’t care, I’m going to get the dirty bastard!’
‘You’ll do nothing of the sort, Bruce. None of you will.’ Abby stared at him coldly, before looking around at the rest of the pilots, making sure that they got the same message. ‘Our priority remains the ground troops. Once the Prussians give up on trying to cross the river, we can do something about Gruber, but I do not want people seeking him out in the air until then; killing one man and destroying a single fighter isn’t going to do anything to stop the Prussians. It might have done over Britain, but not here.’
‘But...’
‘But nothing, Bruce. Those are my orders and you will obey them. There is more at s
take here than just our personal grudge with Gruber and we can’t let it distract us from our job, because that way he wins just as surely as if he’d shot us all down.’
The pilots grumbled, but all saw the logic behind Abby’s command.
All except Scarlet. ‘That’s not good enough.’ She shook her head and stomped away, heading towards the medical centre.
Abby watched her go, then looked around at everyone else. ‘I swear, we will make Gruber pay at some point, but unfortunately that might not be for a while.’ She took a look at her chronograph. ‘Ten minutes for a bathroom break and a cup of tea, then be ready for takeoff. I expect the Prussians will be trying again soon.’
When the doctor put Gwen’s shoulder back in its place, she had passed out from the pain, but when she regained consciousness she felt much better. Her body ached all over and her shoulder throbbed, but she was warm and she no longer had to fight to form a coherent thought.
‘You’re awake.’
Gwen turned her head, groaning as her neck muscles protested and found Kitty and Scarlet sitting by the side of her bed. She frowned at them. ‘Shouldn’t you be up in the air?’
Kitty shook her head with a smile and reached out to take Gwen’s hand. ‘It’s after sunset. We’ve already flown two more sorties.’
‘What? How long have I been out?’
‘About six hours; the doctor gave you something to make you sleep. Apparently, you have a concussion along with the dislocated shoulder and you lost a fair amount of blood from a pretty deep gash on the back of your head.’
Gwen reached up and found a thick bandage wrapped around her head. She hadn’t even noticed she’d taken a knock there; she’d been too concerned about her arm and side, although it certainly explained how fuzzy she’d been.
‘You’ll be fine, the doctor said you mustn’t use the arm and should stay off your feet as much as possible for a few days. Oh, and he’s also grounded you for a couple of weeks.’
Gwen blinked at Scarlet, who was trying hard to keep a serious expression but failing dismally.
The Irishwoman broke first and then they were all laughing, but after a few seconds Gwen suddenly found herself crying instead.
Kitty slid onto the bed and put her arms around Gwen with exaggerated care, holding her and rocking her gently as she sobbed.
When she finally managed to stop, she pulled back slightly and grimaced at the mess she’d made of the lapel of the American’s uniform shirt - it was soaked through with tears and slimy with a judicious amount of snot. ‘Sorry about your shirt.’
The American shrugged. ‘It’s alright, I’ll just use one of yours until you can wash it.’
Gwen smiled weakly. ‘You can have as many of my shirts as you like, but I don’t love you enough to do your laundry, sorry.’
Kitty chuckled and leaned forwards to brush Gwen’s lips with hers, but pulled back with a start when Scarlet cleared her throat; they’d forgotten that there was someone else in the room with them.
The Irishwoman grinned at them. ‘I hate to interrupt you lovebirds, but I’ve got a few things to do.’ She stood and leaned over Kitty to give Gwen a peck on the cheek. ‘I’m glad to see you looking better and I’m sorry about Wasp.’
‘Thank you.’
With a last nod, Scarlet grabbed her fur coat, then went out into the night.
‘Does she have a date or something?’
Kitty shrugged. ‘No idea. Probably, knowing her. You hungry?’
‘Starving.’ Gwen gave her a cheeky grin. ‘Are you going to bring me dinner in bed?’
‘Hopefully one day soon we’ll be able to stay at a hotel and have room service in bed together, but tonight you can damn well walk to the mess hall! There’s nothing wrong with your legs, lazy!’
Gwen moued in mock disappointment, but allowed Kitty to help her up and get her dressed.
When she was ready, she waited while the American changed her shirt, smiling as she did indeed put one of hers on; it looked much better on Kitty than it ever had on her, especially the way it stretched tightly across her chest.
Kitty saw the direction of Gwen’s gaze and smiled, toying with the top button of the shirt. ‘Are you sure you’re hungry? Because we could just stay here; everyone’s at dinner, they won’t be back for a while...’
‘I...’ Gwen began to answer, but was cut off when her stomach growled angrily.
Kitty laughed. ‘Sounds like you’ve got an angry mountain lion in there! We need to feed it before it dies of starvation.’ She grabbed Gwen’s coat and wrapped it carefully around her shoulders before giving her a kiss.
She sighed and leaned her forehead against Gwen’s. ‘I can’t wait for this to be all over so I can have you all to myself.’
‘Me neither.’ Gwen stood on tiptoes to give her another, deeper kiss, then clung onto her for the short walk to the mess.
Scarlet didn’t turn up for dinner that night and she wasn’t in the barracks when the squadron woke up before dawn the next morning. In fact, it wasn’t until they were finishing their breakfast, nursing cups of tea while they waited for the call to scramble that she finally turned up, exhausted and covered with dirt, but looking very pleased with herself. She put a canvas bag on the floor by her usual chair then went and stood at attention next to Abby.
Abby barely looked up at her from her tea. ‘I was just about to put you on a charge for dereliction of duty; it was your turn to make the tea this morning.’ She glanced up and frowned when she belatedly noticed the state of Scarlet’s flight suit. ‘What the hell have you been doing?’
Scarlet grinned and placed a small metal canister on the table. ‘Present for you.’
Abby picked up the cylinder then raised an eyebrow at the Irishwoman. ‘Photographs?’
Scarlet nodded.
‘Of what?’
‘It’s a surprise.’
Abby looked across the table at the photographer. ‘Mr Jones, when you’ve finished your breakfast, would you mind?’
Jones downed the rest of his tea quickly and grinned. ‘Looks like I’m finished.’ He stood, grabbed the canister and rushed out.
All eyes went to Scarlet, but she just ignored them. ‘Any food left? I’m starving.’
She wandered away to the buffet table, strutting even more than usual, fully aware that her fellow pilots were watching her and started filling a plate from the leftovers, studiously keeping her eyes on the food. When her plate was piled high, she wandered back, took her seat and began to eat.
‘Scarlet. Darling.’ Abby said sweetly.
Scarlet made a show of finishing her mouthful and swallowed before replying. ‘Yes, Abby?’
‘Will you be alright to fly when we’re called?’
Scarlet nodded. ‘Of course, but it might not be necessary; I think the Prussians might be a bit more hesitant to attack this morning. They’ve got a bit of bad news to assimilate beforehand.’
‘Really? And what would that be?’
The Irishwoman refused to say anymore, though, and just smiled as she went back to her food.
Dawn came and went and still there was no call from Murmansk for the squadron to take to the air.
Scarlet finished eating and leaned back in her chair, sighing in satisfaction and patting her belly.
Abby gave her a dirty look, then stood up. ‘I’m going to go and call Dot and see what’s going on.’
She started to walk away, but Scarlet called out, making her stop. ‘Tell her that the devices the Muscovites put together for me worked a charm, please.’
Abby stared at her, but the Irishwoman just smiled innocently, meeting and holding her gaze without flinching and in the end the group captain just stuck her tongue out at her then left.
Abby didn’t even get half way to the radio shed, though, before a soldier came running from it with a message for her and the klaxon sounded for the squadron to scramble.
She grabbed the piece of paper from the man and read it as the rest of the pilots came
streaming out of the mess hall behind her.
While most made a beeline straight for their aircraft, Wendy ran up to Abby, an expectant look on her face.
Abby smiled at her. ‘Owen reports no enemy in the skies.’
‘Yes!’ Wendy pumped her fist in glee, then turned and sprinted for the waiting Dreadnought, calling for her gunners to get on board.
Abby laughed at her enthusiasm, then shoved the paper back at the soldier before running for her own aircraft.
Completely forgotten, Gwen watched them take off from the steps of the mess hall. ‘Happy hunting, Misfits.’
The previous day, Dreadnought had joined the Misfits in repelling the second assault, taking advantage of the fact that the Prussian air bases were much farther away than Vaenga and that they needed more than twice as long as the allies to rewind and rearm and be back over the battleground.
The Misfits carried out a wholesale slaughter, turning the incoming assault back before it had even gotten half way across the river, and when the Barons and their fellow Fleas finally did arrive, the British were long gone and they found nobody to fight.
The Prussians had coordinated their third and last assault of the day a bit better, though, and Dreadnought had had to stay at home.
If the Misfits had been outnumbered the day before, this time they were doubly so, as not only did they have fewer allies than the day before, but the Fleas had been reinforced with another squadron of MU9s. The Misfits ran amok among the enemy fighters, halving the number of MU9s and even shooting down a few Barons with only minor damage in return, but there were too many of them and they were unable to get anywhere near the river to support the Muscovites.
Without any harassment from the air, the Prussian transports made it all the way to the far bank. The Muscovites had few nasty surprises set up on the river banks, just as they’d had for the boats, but they were insufficient to turn back such a large force and they had to commit their few reserves, even bringing up civilian volunteers, like Abby had feared, but, instead of mothballs and handbags, they were equipped with hunting rifles, bows and rocks and acquitted themselves passably well.
The Russian Resistance Page 37