Chapter 13 - Nocturnal Stroll
The engines' throb was clearly carried across the still night air. The days of rain which had plagued them had cleared the sky from its humidity and clouds were now small and far apart. There'd be stars out later, Algy thought, as he fought the somnolent effect of the ship. It was still moving, edging out around the point he was crouching behind, and he let his eyes wonder around, probing what he could of the blackness. His mind, idle, drifted up and over the hill, worrying about Biggles. He knew that the man could take care of himself, of course, and that von Stalhein killing him was about as likely as him killing himself, but the chances of an accident occuring were high and he'd be much happier had he been with them.
Shaken out of an almost doze by the gleaming of a star, he peered out. The engines were constant - it seemed that for now, at least, the ship was edging away from land.
Biggles felt into the box carefully, his head half turned away in the direction of von Stalhein, half glad for the darkness which prevented him from seeing how close the German was. His fingers touched several things - metal, cloth and paper. As quietly as he could he lifted up the first object he could grasp, holding it near his eyes and running one hand along it as he did so. Smiling, he slipped the pistol into his waistband and again dipped his hands in, wanting to remove the clips that would surely be in the box as well, before they gave away the presence of the gun to Erich. He found three and pocketed them before running his hands over other things- the fabric he wasn't sure about, though he had a hope it was food.
Pausing, he listened for von Stalhein, before venturing to raise his voice enough to cause his companion to arrive. «Hi! Erich! I've found it...» He kept searching as he heard the careful steps head towards him, fingers clinging to what felt suspiciously like wire or rope, though he couldn't think what for.
«I'll refrain from commenting on your luck again, Biggleswo-Biggles.» Von Stalhein's dry tone suggested he found the whole thing a little boring, if anything.
Biggles smiled to himself, keeping his voice level, «As you say, there's a lot of luck involved. May I have the use of your lighter to read the note?» In putting out his hand his fingers brushed von Stalhein's sleeve and the German's breath hitched, just enough so Biggles couldn't be sure if it had happened or not.
«I have your word that it will return to me when you have finished?» Nevertheless, without waiting for his answer, the lighter was pressed into Biggles' hand.
«I don't suppose there's any lighter fuel in here.» Biggles muttered sorrowfully, flicking the lighter twice before it worked and he could read the note.
Algy fixed his eyes to a point just off the ship, knowing from long experience that small dim lights are easier to see when not being stared at but rather through. He decided it was still on course and listened above the thrum of engines and behind him, hoping to be able to tell if there were any returning footsteps. He'd learnt a long time ago that there was no use complaining about things like hunger and fatigue, so he determinedly put them to one side of his mind and ignored them as best he could.
For a form of diversion he tried to work out how many days he'd been away now and how many more it could be until he'd be sleeping in his own bed again in London, or indeed any decent bed in Europe. He'd got to ten days to get back when he switched, dejectedly, to working out how much sleep they'd had and how much longer they could go on like this. Not above three days, he knew from bitter experience. He was pleased there were two of them here, especially pleased it was Biggles he was with.
Biggles perused the note quickly and put it in his pocket, letting the flame go out as he did so. Carefully he closed the lid of the box again, bundling the fabric inside as he did so.
«I'm sure you understand I couldn't let you read it before Algy, given it's addressed to him and me and not to you at all.» He smiled, correctly interpreting the stony silence next to him.
Von Stalhein may have nodded, certainly there was a light movement nearby, and Biggles stepped away a little, almost falling and flinging out an arm in a desperate attempt to right his balance. The next thing he knew, he was flat on his back with some irate German being hissed into his ear.
He'd learnt and resigned himself a long time ago that there were some people who didn't realise there was little to be gained by ranting and cursing, so he calmly reviewed himself for further injury as he waited. Having reached the end of his personal inventory, he sharply tapped Erich on the shoulder.
«Alright, you've made your point. I hardly intended to pull you down, and I certainly had no wish to be so foolish as to fall over nothing. Now, let me up, if you will.»
Stunned, von Stalhein fell into silence for a moment before standing with bad grace, waiting impatiently for Biggles to lever himself up as well. The whole scene, for reasons he couldn't fathom, left the German feeling somewhat shaken.
He shouldn't have fallen over, normally having the athletic reactions of a cat, reactions which remained steady throughout his life. His sleep-deprivation should have had less bearing on him than it did, and his tirade was certainly uncalled for.
Miffed, Biggles dusted off a jacket which could ill- afford any more dusting, before turning to his companion. «Could I trouble you to carry the box?»
There was a pause, before von Stalhein stepped forwards and grasped it, wondering at the same time what it was about Biggles which made him happy to trundle around after him. «Shall we head back then?» Clearly he was trying to puzzle out what was in the letter, and just as clearly Biggles wasn't going to tell him.
«Yes. I want to talk to Algy and think things through with him. And we should find out what the ship is doing.» Biggles' decision was final and von Stalhein set himself to another tedious trek along discernable paths - at least the stars were coming out.
He couldn't see the light now unless he squinted very hard at the far horizon and closed his eyes to a point he normally adopted during long calculus lessons (or, conversely, navigational ones. He knew how to fly and where to go and had long ago worked out that intuition did as much as a complicated route full of stop overs and check points). After a few minutes like that Algy had to stop for fear of falling sleep. After another hour, he realised he could hear steady movement and, occasionally, something which sounded like voices.
He waited a little longer and decided they were human and silently rose to scout his way back towards them, hoping they were belonging to one Englishman and one German.
Close enough to hear individual footsteps now - a slight hesitation in the heavier ones suggesting they'd found the box and von Stalhein was carrying it- Algy paused to wait for them to speak again, the light not falling well enough to let him squint and make out more than two pale blurs.
«I cannot make out any lights, which suggests the interlopers have departed.» A cultured, accented voice which Algy knew at once, followed by one he heard more often than his own.
«If they'd landed, Algy would have let us know, you needn't worry, von Stalhein.»
Algy stood at that moment and cleared his throat. «You found it then?»
Neither of the two newcomers had noticed Algy before then, obviously, as they both jumped slightly in an unnervingly similar way.
«Oh, yes,» Biggles answered when he had recovered. «We found it all right. But we can discuss that later. What are our friends up to?»
Algy shrugged, though he knew the move would not carry as much meaning as in plain daylight. «They seem to be leaving. For now. Perhaps they've just gone to get some reinforcements.»
He looked mechanically back at the sea, where the horizon was still empty under his gaze.
«Apparently, they don't want to be seen. If they're as shy as you say, Erich, the arrival of Ginger and Bertie tonight must have given them a heart attack.» Biggles' voice held more than a tinge of irony. «That being said, I have a hard time believing they'd give up on their mission so easily.»
«So,» broke Algy impatiently, «what does the message say?»
«Let's have some light then,» said Biggles. «But better to do that behind that lump of rock. The wind is chilly and would put out the flame anyway.»
They did as Biggles suggested and huddled together behind the rock. It struck Algy how naturally they accepted the forced closeness, now, when only a day before they were desperately trying not to fall asleep so they could keep a watchful eye on each other.
Von Stalhein produced the lighter and in the circle of flickering light, Biggles unfolded the message. Algy had to squint to read it, both because of the weak light and because the message had been hurriedly scrawled in a plane that was probably being shot at. Ginger's writing was hardly legible in the best of cases, but he had outdone himself this time.
«Algy, Biggles, hope... you're safe... Im...possible... to... land...» he deciphered slowly. «Will be back ASAP. It makes... no, it might... take a day or two. Signal to us if possible. Go... gosh like?» Puzzled, Algy rubbed his brow.
«Good luck,» translated Biggles.
So Bertie and Ginger would be back. Algy had never doubted it, but he regretted that von Stalhein now knew about it. He sneaked a look at the German, but if he tried anything, it would not be now. For the time being, Ginger and Bertie were away, and their common enemies were not far yet; their uneasy truce would continue a little longer, if Algy's analysis was correct. And indeed, von Stalhein was motionless, apparently not about to attack the two Englishmen any time soon.
«Well, that's it,» Algy concluded. «What should we do now?» They would all have to be patient - though as far as he was concerned, he felt he was reaching the limit of his own equanimity.
«I think...» Biggles began, but before he had time to continue, the flame of the lighter shivered and flickered out.
«Suffering cats, we needed that!» swore Algy. He waited for a few seconds, but von Stalhein made no move to ignite the lighter again. «Why don't you...» he began.
«There is almost no petrol left, I expect,» von Stalhein cut him. «We would be wise to use it only in case of emergency from now on.»
«Of course,» Algy agreed glumly. He tried hard not to let his frustration show. He knew it was no one's fault - well, not directly in any case - but that did not make the situation any more pleasant. The night was not warm, even disregarding the chilly wind Biggles had commented on earlier, and now they were stuck in the dark. That was not the favoured way in which he would spend his holiday.
«What were you saying, Biggles?»
«I was about to suggest we had something to eat. I think Ginger packed some food with the note.»
«At least one piece of good news, then.» Indeed, that was an unexpected surprise. Trust Bertie and Ginger to think of the essentials. Too bad they had not thought to pack a gun too. Or... had they? Algy tried to sneak a glance at Biggles, but he could only make out a dark figure beside him. Well, he could not ask outright, so that would have to wait until the two of them had an occasion to share a word in private.
«Just give me a moment to get it. Erich, give me the box, will you?»
The box was pushed towards Biggles without hesitation or question. Algy wondered at that sudden show of trust, then reflected that von Stalhein had probably already discreetly inspected the contents of the box, and was satisfied there was nothing of interest there besides the food. There was a ruffle of fabric as Biggles unpacked their dinner. Algy tried to guess by ear what it could be, but was to be disappointed for he could hear nothing at all that would give him the slightest clue.
«Sandwiches,» announced Biggles. «Probably the only thing they had close at hand. Well, I won't complain.»
«How many?» Algy's stomach rumbled at the thought of food that would not have to be skinned, peeled or sliced, food that would not be undercooked, that would not smell of smoke and taste of ashes. It had only been three days, but it felt like much, much longer.
«Four, as much as I can tell. Here.»
A sandwich was pushed in Algy's hands, another one offered to von Stalhein, and it was not ten seconds before they were all gulfing it down voraciously.
Chicken and tomato, Algy thought, although he hardly took the time to actually taste the food. It was probably a blessing in disguise that the light had gone out, for their table manners left much to be desired. Not that any of them cared in the least at that moment; Algy only felt a lingering regret when the last bite was swallowed that there was not more.
«I also saw some chocolate bars in the package, I think.» Biggles spoke first after they were done. «But I suggest we keep those, and the last sandwich for tomorrow.»
«I suppose it's wiser,» Algy said, not managing to entirely hide the wistfulness in his voice. Food used to be such a trivial thing. It became important only when it was lacking.
Now that his hunger was sated - his stomach by no means full, but no longer uncomfortably empty - he discovered that he was deadly tired. He had a hard time focusing on anything, his eyelids seemed to droop of their own free will, and his head rocked down and back up every few minutes.
«I think we all need to get some rest,» Biggles suggested as no one appeared willing to take the initiative. His own weariness was discernible in his tired voice, and also in the way his shoulders were hunched beside Algy's. «I suggest we go back to that rift where we left our equipment and have some sleep while we can. There's nothing more we can do tonight.»
They all agreed, and made a collective effort to find their way back to the rift discovered by von Stalhein. It was not as easy as any of them had foreseen, especially in the dark, since they had not thought to mark the emplacement, but they made it in the end. At Biggles' insistance, von Stalhein agreed to go down first, and the short time during which he climbed down allowed the two Englishmen some privacy.
«Biggles, was there anything more in the box?» Algy kept his voice down to a low whisper, hardly loud enough for even Biggles to hear.
Biggles' reply was short and to the point. «A gun. Ammunition.»
Algy had hoped as much, and he felt a grin pull the corners of his mouth. They now had the upper hand... but the brief moment of elation soon gave way to concern. Von Stalhein still had his gun, and while two bullets were not much, they were enough to hit two targets if one was a good shot - which von Stalhein definitely was. True, the British outnumbered him, were better armed, and would have the advantage of surprise when von Stalhein found out about the gun, but... Algy still felt a twinge of uneasiness in his stomach. Worse, he could not think of what caused it. Well, he was tired, as they all were, and nothing would be solved for the time being. Everything would look better in the morning.
Von Stalhein called softly to them that he was down and ready to assist Biggles in his descent. A moment later, they were all together back in the tunnel. There was no arguing when they lay together - now that they no longer had even the luxury of a fire, it was the only way to keep warm. Algy still noticed that von Stalhein was ready to sleep with his hand on the handle of his gun, and he knew it because the German's elbow dug in his ribs and the stubborn man refused to move it. Eventually, they found a comfortable position, though Algy could not help but wonder if von Stalhein had been ready to fight them... or if he feared those other foreigners may come back.
The last few hours had not been entirely satisfactory, as far as von Stalhein was concerned. First, there was the matter of that package, thrown to Bigglesworth by his friends. The box had been open when Bigglesworth had called him, and Erich could not keep back a nagging suspicion that there might have been more in there than what he had been shown. His subsequent clumsiness, when Bigglesworth had fallen and taken them both down, was another problem. It would probably be unwise to take any more of the pills. It was not definite they were to blame, but... just in case. They should no longer be necessary, either way.
But then, there was the problem of Lissie and Hebblethwaite's imminent return. What would he do - what could he do when that happened? Short of shooting Bigglesworth in cold blood... and he doubted he could bring himself to that. And the Englishman, with his arrogant compassionate ways, certainly was aware of that. He had shown often enough that he felt the same reluctance. Then again, Bigglesworth would most likely not leave until he had found the documents, or was satisfied they had been destroyed. Which meant, when Lissie and Hebblethwaite returned, the British would no longer share a common goal with von Stalhein. When survival was no longer an issue, their truce would be over in a heartbeat.
That left him few options. If he was lucky, his friends would show up before then. If not... he would have to act the moment Lissie and Hebblethwaite's plane was in sight. Taking Bigglesworth and Lacey as prisonners again would be his only way of stalling long enough to find another way out.
«You're not asleep,» Bigglesworth said suddenly, in a low voice. It was half a question, half a statement, and it took von Stalhein a few seconds to realize the enquiry was directed at him.
«No,» he allowed.
«Anything troubling you?»
«No.» As if he would admit it, were it the case.
«You've been very silent.»
«I am tired.» That had the merit of being the truth, if only part of it. But von Stalhein realized his mistake the moment he said the words. He would not usually admit to that either. If he did now, it could only be to stop more questions from coming, and naturally Bigglesworth would pick up on that.
«Is that all?» Bigglesworth probed.
Von Stalhein did not actually have to give him any explanation, but he had one handy - and indeed, that other worry had been nagging at him. «I find it odd these... other people would leave so easily. I can only think of two reasons why they would.»
«I'd like to hear them.»
«It is possible they left a small party behind, who are only waiting for us to show up. Then they could easily call the boat back with a radio.»
Bigglesworth was lying on his back very near von Stalhein, the upper part of his body actually partly resting on von Stalhein's arm, and he felt the Englishman stiffen at the thought.
«Do you think it is very likely?»
«That is hard to say.» It felt odd, to be discussing so calmly with an enemy the likeness of an ambush being laid for them. Odd, and yet strangely natural.
«What about the second reason?»
«Something else gave them reason to leave. That could be anything - new orders, perhaps. Out of the two, I am not certain this one would be the least worse, however.»
«We shall wait and see,» Bigglesworth said.
He relaxed again. Von Stalhein closed his eyes and tried to think of nothing, for he certainly had nothing pleasant to think of.
A dark, oblong shape moved noiselessly in the water, only skimming the surface as it came closer to its objective. Most people who had fought in the war would have recognized instantly the ominous outline of a submarine. In fact, had new paint not covered it, one could have seen on the hull of the silent machine the familiar markings of a white «U,» followed by a number.
The captain, his cap backwards on his head so the peak did not hinder him, took his time to watch through the periscope. Not that there was much to see. Though the clouds had cleared, the night remained dark, the island little more than a dark shape on the line of horizon.
An order was barked to reduce speed. Finding a suitable mooring place would take a little time, and although they were on an errand of some urgency, it would not do to let hurry influence one's better judgment.
After all, that which they were looking for was not going anywhere.
Sleepily, Algy stretched out his arms, feeling the inevitable dust on his right and a warm body, wriggling a little closer to him as he touched it, on his left. That was odd. If he wasn't in bed, which he clearly wasn't, then he'd be with Biggles and the others and they'd be taking it in turns to watch, not sleep together...he blinked and woke fully, remembering.
No point keeping a watch when nothing could be seen and they could hear better where they were currently lying. Chilly now, he was thinking, he scrunched up closer to Biggles as well, resting his white, frozen hand between them in a futile attempt to convince the blood to flow.
Biggles shifted back a bit, nudged an unfamiliar body and held still. «Algy? Is that icicle yours?»
A quiet snicker began and could be heard in the whispered reply, «Didn't mean to wake you, old chap. Yet having an icicle attached to your arm makes a good sleep hard to come by, you know?»
He sensed a distance between them and the incredulous words came from above his head, «You mean that's your hand? What did you do, leave it outside all night?» Biggles probed the darkness for Algy's face but gave up after a moment of thick blackness and lay down again.
Von Stalhein stirred and they held their breaths, but he appeared to be shifting and they continued their banter, concern evident in their tone. «As a matter of fact I did. It will come right presently, I've no doubt.»
The freezing hand was shifted, slowly and painfully, closer to Algy's legs, resting near his navel, and Biggles felt obliged to mutter, «No doubt it's feeling as bad as that time you went flying without gloves, you silly boy.»
Algy chuckled again, even more quietly, and shifted his head as a reminder they should keep quiet. «No doubt I'm the only person to have ever done that.» he returned, before interrupting himself with a sharp exhalation.
«Ensure our friend's awake, won't you, Bíggles? I'm just going to stick me head out.»
They'd both heard a resonant thump as something nearby touched the land near wherever the tunnel they were in came out. It was like being inside a long drum for a moment, and they both wondered what had caused it, differing only in the pictures of the boats they formed.
«You awake, Erich? Come on, another day, another game of hide-and-seek.» Biggles shook their companion's shoulder gently and was greeted with eyes snapping open almost immediately.
«You clearly were never an aide, with a wake up service like that.» Early morning gripe out of the way, von Stalhein struggled upright and looked around, eyes resting on the only spot of light, illuminating Algy's lower half. «You'd better not get us spotted, you fool.» He whisper-shouted, to an unmoving back.
Finally the three of them sat in a circle near the light, able to work out it was morning and not that early, to judge by the fully risen sun. «Someone has certainly landed, so we must guess who that is and that we don't want to meet them.» Algy reported, still cradling his chilly hand to his chest and willing the pins and needles to go away.
Von Stalhein frowned, «It doesn't make sense for them to move the same distance it took most of yesterday to move in just a few hours. They aren't in a frigate any more, I don't think.»
Algy nodded, «They certainly aren't- you get a moderately good view of the nearest bays here and there wasn't anything visible. But for something to make that loud a noise, it's more than a rubber dinghy, isn't it.»
Biggles and von Stalhein both nodded, the former removing Algy's cradled hand and rubbing it securely with his thumbs, knowing from experience how much it would help. «They have working comms, we know. They could call in anything they wanted. Probably they called in a stealthier craft - low and fast - to run people in shore without us realising. It's our good luck they nudged right near the outlet to this.»
Von Stalhein stood. «But they could come up it at any time. I would prefer not to be caught in a trap which will be safe only if they do not search their landing ground thoroughly. You know what the ends of these tubes look like.»
They nodded and joined him in the half crouch, waddling into position to get out. «Go on then, Erich, I'll give you a booster, same as last time.» Algy offered. The German looked at him, «If this is some trap of yours, Lacey, I shall ensure you are aptly repaid.»
Algy turned into the charming, innocent, trustworthy man he could be at times, fixing von Stalhein with his eyes, «I'm not leaving you alone in a tunnel with Biggles and you are the only one with a gun - the only one who could have a chance of shooting them. It makes sense to put you up first, as we did last time.»
Von Stalhein blinked, nodded, and stepped up to the wall, raising his hands above his head, «Very well, Lacey." This first name thing just did not work, he thought. «Give me a 'booster' as you put it.» Algy did so, holding his hands as a step and lifting them as required until von Stalhein was safely on his way up.
«Thanks.» He added, with a gesture to his fully restored hand, «I'll try and take more care of it next time.»
Biggles smiled. «We don't have a doctor with us, you'll notice. And sleep is supposed to cure things, not make them worse.» That certainly seemed to be the case for Biggles, now steady and a far more normal colour, not to mention eating for himself again.
«It is clear up here.» Von Stalhein stuck a head near the hole and called down to them gently. «Put one hand up, Bigglesworth, and I will give you a hand up.»
Algy lifted his companion's feet as he had done to the German before, «Just don't let him see the gun.» He whispered as Biggle's ear passed his mouth, «Or he'll be impossible to deal with.»
After some scrambling, he was left alone in the tunnel and he cast an eye around in the vain hope of spying any signs of disturbance. Their fire-place was probably fairly obvious to anyone with a powerful lantern, but there was nothing he could do about it now, lacking any light himself. Maybe he should take up smoking properly, so he always had matches and a lighter on him.
«Thought you knew these waters?» The Captain was sarcastic, and the man currently at the helm groaned inwardly as he brought her in flush to the shore. «Lava flows regularly, sir. Hard to predict exactly.»
The Captain grunted and called all engines off, marching away to hunt for some coffee, review the landing party and the safety of their position.
«We want him alive and able to talk...but there's not much space here for guarding a prisoner, so if he can't be thinking much about escape then it would be a good thing.» The head of the landing party nodded, fingering his bayonet, and saluted as they tramped up onto the flat deck of the U-boat and into the landing craft.
Algy joined them after a scramble, helped with a hand or two, and they scuttled into the shadow of nearby rocks, bending close to whisper. «We need to see where they are, but there could be people round the other side of the island, too, and this box isn't going to be easy to carry.» Biggles nudged at the box Algy had passed up before him, glancing to check all their gear was present and correct.
«Maybe we could lose it - one sandwich could be divvied up now for breakfast, the spare shirt on someone, the rest of the food in pockets. Was there anything else in there?»
Algy had yet to see the contents of the box and he opened it gingerly, blinking in the daylight. «A signal mirror. We'd better keep that covered - don't want to signal the wrong people with it.» It was slipped into his trouser pocket, along with a chocolate bar. «Hands out, and I'll divvy up,» he added with a grin. «We need to do it quickly, though, and throw this rubbish somewhere away from us, if we can.»
Two grimy pairs of hands selected appropriate numbers of bars - a measly supply - and the remains of a basic first aid kit which had been carefully selected from the main one presumably still in Ginger and Bertie's possession. «No fuel, but there might be a bit left in the container we rescued from the wreck - that's next to you, Erich.»
Von Stalhein unscrewed the cap and peered in. «I will not refill my lighter with aviation fuel if that is what you are proposing, Lacey. I do not think it would work.»
Algy shrugged. «Fair enough. What else do we have? How much water is there?»
Their last container was opened and peered into, «Full and half empty, so we can remain away from the streams for a while yet.» They nodded at each other, von Stalhein taking the fuel and Algy the water casks.
«Any ideas where we should head? There's more cover on the other side, but I'm about through with traipsing over that hill every day.»