The Russian Resistance
Page 40
That boy had been Hans Gruber and he persuaded Polikasparov that the only way for the Russian Empire to survive intact was for them to surrender to the Prussians before the country was completely destroyed.
A few words in the right ears had been sufficient to get Wolfpack squadron assigned to the new Harridan fighters, putting Polikasparov in the right place both to spy on the Misfits and to whisper in Baryshnikov’s ear and get him to make overly aggressive decisions that put the British in danger.
When all else had failed, he had been contacted by Gruber and ordered to help Natasha carry out the plan to salvage at least something from the defeat.
Polikasparov was executed in the New Year, but insisted to the last that he had only been acting in the best interests of his country.
Epilogue
It was bitterly cold the next morning when the Misfits left Vaenga for the rendezvous with Arturo on the north coast of Muscovy, the promised front already making its presence known with temperatures that were well below zero Fahrenheit.
They were glad to put the place behind them for good - they had felt welcome there, certainly, but it had never been a home for them like Badger Base, or even Bagshot Hall had been, not because of the lack of comforts and luxuries, but because the people that usually surrounded and supported them, the people that had become their family, hadn’t been there.
Mac’s heroics of the night before had left him barely conscious and in no fit state to fly - the projectile from Natasha’s clockwork gun had left a deep crease in his head that left him with a severe concussion and he had two broken ribs from falling sideways in Bloodhound. Dorothy Campbell had offered to take his place, but she hadn’t received the training in carrier landings that the Misfits had, so Gwen, despite her injuries and the objections of the Muscovite doctor, was assigned to fly Jaguar, with Chastity on her wing, while Mac rode in Dreadnought.
The eleven Misfit aircraft formed up over Vaenga, waiting for the transport aircraft carrying Freddy Featherstonehaugh, Mr Jones, and the skeleton crew of fitters, who hadn’t been sent ahead overland the day before, to join them, then headed directly for the rendezvous, just over forty miles away.
The pilots relaxed and joked over the radios, already looking forward to a good rest, but they had one last, extremely unpleasant surprise left for them in Muscovy.
‘Smoke! There’s smoke!’
They were ten minutes into the flight when Charles’ call had them frantically searching the sky for enemies.
‘Where?’
‘Behind us.’
‘Misfits, coming about.’
Abby led them in a wide turn to face the smoke rising in the distance, leaving the transport to continue on without them.
Gwen pulled down lenses to try to make out the source of the dense black cloud rising into the sky. It was miles away, coming from somewhere near the city. She gasped. ‘Oh, my lord, the civilians...’
The smoke wasn’t coming from near the city, it was coming from the city - Murmansk was aflame from one end to the other and above, through the smoke, could be seen mass ranks of Prussian bombers going home, their craven deed done.
‘Why?’ Scarlet said, her voice thick with emotion.
‘They’re denying it to the Muscovites.’ Derek said, his tactical mind instantly recognising the ramifications. ‘The Prussians were going to use the city as their base here in the north and now that they can’t, they’re taking it away from their enemy.’
‘They’re also being complete bastards,’ Bruce added.
‘That too,’ agreed Derek.
Abby sighed. ‘Well, there’s nothing we can do for the poor buggers, now and we have a ship to catch.’
The Misfits reversed their course again and accelerated to catch up with the transport, all their joy at going home gone, along with the city they had invested so much into defending.
They had done their duty, succeeding where everyone had expected them to fail, but they couldn’t help feeling that, at the very last moment, they had let down the brave men and women they’d been sent to help and hadn’t been there for them at the most crucial moment.
‘Tinman to Badger Leader, come in please.’
Badger Leader here, go ahead Tinman.’
‘We have you in sight, Badger, welcome back.’
‘Thank you, Tinman.’
‘We have a message for you from London. Message reads - congratulations Misfit Squadron, mission accomplished. The kettle is on, come home safely. George R.’
Gwen’s heart swelled with pride at the demonstration of the high regard that the King held them in and she smiled as she glanced across to Hawk, on the other side of Swift in the B flight formation.
Kitty was already looking at her and Gwen laughed, Murmansk momentarily forgotten, when the American blew her a kiss; home beckoned, along with a very appealing future.
Acknowledgements
A BIG Thank You to Gis, for putting up with me disappearing into my writing for months at a time, and to the best reviewer on Goodreads, Miranda Reads, for her advice and support.
About the Author
Simon Brading’s interest in aviation began when he was very young and at thirteen he joined the RAF section of the Combined Cadet Forces of Dulwich College with the aim of becoming a pilot. However, when he was 18, had reached the rank of Flight Sergeant in the CCF and was trying to get into a University Air Squadron, he was told that his eyesight wasn’t good enough to be a pilot, so he had to move onto plan B... something else.
He never lost his interest in flight, though, and hopes to add a PPL to his very basic and probably extremely expired glider license.
As well as the odd novel he writes screenplays and every so often does some acting.
www.simonbrading.co.uk
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Also by Simon Brading
Displacers
The Pirate's Heir
The Secret of the Ancients
The Whitechapel Plot
The Price of Greed
The Time for Vengeance
Dismal Futures Books
Empath
The Lifeboat at the End of the Universe
Twin Ambitions
Fight to Dance
Back to Basics
Misfit Squadron Series
The Battle Over Britain
The Russian Resistance
A Misfit Midwinter
The Lion and the Baron
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