"So, let me get this straight, Biggles. The Air Commodore wants me to be temporarily posted to the Indian Security Police? To help them put a stop to a contraband racket?"

"Yes."

"And I might as well pack up all my belongings, and forget about seeing my seedlings grow to full size, because not only will you lot forget to take care of them while I'm away and they will wilt an die, but I will probably be away for months?"

"…Yes."

"And he proposed that I take one of our old Austers – one of our Second World War observer aircraft Austers, mind you – and fly to Calcutta?"

"... Yes."

"Please tell me you told him what an exceedingly lousy idea that is? Unless there happens to be an aircraft carrier going that way, so I can get a lift?"

"...I tried."

"Oh, for goodness sake! If you couldn't convince him, you didn't try hard enough!"

"I say, old boy, you're a jolly bit hard on Biggles now, aren't you?"

"No, Bertie, I'm not. The Auster has a range of 250 miles, as well you know. I'm not sure about the exact distance to Calcutta, but I'm going to look it up. And that's not even taking the Himalayas into consideration. You know, the worlds highest mountain range..? The plane can't reach those heights, which means a detour because it's impossible to fly the shortest route. Not that I could have taken the shorter route, anyway, because the Soviet Union is in the way. Here, Ginger, give me the international air distance guide, please. If it will take me less than 20 jumps to get to Calcutta, I'll eat my hat."

"Here you are, Algy. I think your hat is pretty safe, by the way."

"So do I, old boy, so do I."

"Honestly, Biggles, you do realize how much more practical it would be to take a commercial flight and ask the Indian police force to provide a plane, right? Not to mention how much quicker and cheaper it would be, compared to having to pay for petrol and service and accommodations on the way. It will take me two days on a commercial plane, tops, and I'll be ready for work as soon as I get there. I'm sure we had the latest timetable from the BOAC here somewhere…"

"One sec, Algy, I put it with the new aircraft files... Here it is."

"Thanks, Ginger."

"I'm afraid the Air Commodore was quite insistent, Algy. He likes to think that it's practical that you fly there with a plane that you can use for surveillance once you're in place."

"…Now, let me see... The UK to India, here we are. I could hop on a plane, say, the day after tomorrow, Saturday, at 11.30, and arrive in Calcutta at 7.25 on Sunday. I would be ready to start working on the case on Monday. As opposed to, probably, still be getting all the papers and landing permits and payment orders sorted, and arrange for a 50-hour overhaul on the way, if I'm going to fly solo in one of our Austers. If I'm lucky, and the weather doesn't force me to stay for days somewhere to wait out a storm or what have you, I'll be in Calcutta at least one week later if I'm flying myself. So forgive me if this scheme doesn't exactly send me wild with enthusiasm."

"... As I said, the Air Commodore was insistent…"

"What a bore, old chap! When I think about how long it took me to get up to Scotland in our old Auster the last time we were chasing around for salmon smugglers... I have to admit that I'm glad it's not me that's condemned to sit in that bally cockpit for days, yes, by Jove!"