Chapter 23

Brisk Work

Before Ginger could reply, Algy broke in, "I don't think he's spotted us. There are three of us and only one of him. We should be able to overpower him with the advantage of surprise."

"You're right," acknowledged Biggles. "Ginger, take Becca out of the way further along the path and stay with her."

Ginger started to protest but Biggles cut him short. "Let's have no arguments. You look after Becca." Ginger closed his mouth and indicated that Becca should follow him. When the pair had retreated out of sight, Biggles continued, "Algy, you hide in the bushes ready to hit him over the head when he's out of sight of the quarry."

"Where will you be?"

"I'll be here to distract him while you're doing your Errol Flynn act," replied Biggles.

"What if he shoots you as soon as he sees you?" asked Algy, aghast.

"Then you are in charge of the party and it'll be your problem to get the professor back to England," Biggles told him unemotionally as he pulled a cigarette out of his case and put it in his mouth. "Hurry up!"

Algy shrugged and did as he was bade. Biggles stood in the clearing and lit his cigarette. Moments later, the guard plunged out of the undergrowth. He pulled up short when he saw Biggles. His surprise seemed to be total.

Before the man could raise his gun and fire, Algy clubbed him with the butt of his revolver. The guard collapsed in a heap.

"Nice work," approved Biggles laconically. "Let's get his gear off and I'll slip back into the work party before he's missed."

Suiting the actions to the words, he put on the guard's uniform and slung the machine gun across his chest. Using his and Algy's handkerchiefs they bound and gagged the unconscious German.

"Get Ginger and Becca and take them round to the top of the quarry steps," Biggles told his cousin. "You'll have to go around but you should be there before the prisoners have to go back to camp. I'll let the professor know we're here and we're going to get him back to England. I shall have to keep my wits about me and seize any chance I can to get him away before we get back to the barracks. I shall be looking out for you at the top of the steps."

With that, Biggles pushed his way out of the bushes and made his way back across to the quarry floor. Algy watched him go with deep misgivings, but wasted no time in bringing Ginger up to date with the way their plan had worked out.

"Let's get cracking!" exclaimed Ginger as soon as Algy had finished. "We don't know how long it will take us to get round to the top of the steps and Biggles will need all the help he can get." Without waiting for a reply, he set off back down the track with Algy and Becca close behind.

When they neared the road, Ginger hesitated, unsure how to proceed. Algy offered the opinion that they would make better speed on the smoother surface, as Biggles had pointed out before. Acknowledging the wisdom of this advice, Ginger led the way onto the carriageway. There was no traffic and they made good progress.

When he estimated they had made sufficient distance to enable them to skirt the cliff, Algy touched Ginger on the arm. The lad stopped and looked at him enquiringly.

"I think we should strike off across country here," suggested Algy. "We ought to be able to cut across and reach the top fairly easily."

Ginger scanned the landscape and tried to visualise it from above. Realising Algy was right, he nodded. "Do you think Biggles will be alright?" he asked tentatively. "I don't like leaving him on his own; I mean, it's such a risky thing to do – supposing they spot him."

Algy squeezed the lad's arm. "You know what Biggles is like," he observed quietly with a sidelong glance at Becca who had sat down beside the road to rest. "When he gets an idea in his head, there's no deflecting him." Seeing a flicker of alarm in the boy's face, Algy hastened to reassure him, "Biggles has the luck of the devil, you know that. He always says fortune favours the brave. I shouldn't be at all surprised to find he has got the solution. I bet the escape is all organised and the professor is as good as on his way home."

"I hope you're right," muttered Ginger.

'So do I,' thought Algy, but he kept his misgivings to himself, contenting himself with observing that it could not be far to the top of the staircase and they ought to get moving. He moved across and helped Becca up. She smiled at him through her tiredness.

"Do you really think your friend will be able to rescue my father?" she asked him hesitantly.

With a confidence he did not entirely feel, Algy told her he was sure of it. When they resumed their journey, if it was not with an air of optimism, then at least it was without a sense of despair.

They tramped on in silence until the sound of voices made them pull up short. Algy and Ginger quickly hustled Becca into the cover of some rocks. Slowly they inched their way forward to a spot from where they could see what was happening without being discovered.

From their vantage point, they watched as a line of exhausted prisoners hauled slabs of rock to waiting transport. The guards accompanied them, goading the captives to maximum effort with their rifle and machine gun butts.

An elderly prisoner fell. One of the guards who was following close behind kicked him but failed to get a response. The soldier, a corpulent man with a crew cut that emphasised his square skull, turned the body over and said something which caused a ripple of laughter among the other Nazis. As Ginger watched, the guard detailed two other prisoners to lift the man.

Ginger expected to see him taken to the transport so that he could receive treatment or, if, as he feared, the man was beyond help, be taken away for burial. To his horror, the prisoners, accompanied by the guard, took the body to the edge of the cliff. Clearly acting under orders, they flung it out into space.

Disgusted, Ginger started forward, but Algy restrained him, pushing him hard against the rock. "Keep still, you little fool!" he hissed. "Do you want to ruin everything and put Biggles in danger?"

Ginger stared at him as if seeing him for the first time. "How could they do that?" he asked, his voice harsh. "You wouldn't treat a dog like that!"

Algy said nothing, at a loss for words to explain the callous spectacle. It was Becca who answered him, her voice dull with resignation. "He was a Jew. He counted for nothing. Now you see what we are up against, how we are suffering."

White faced, Ginger met her eyes. "I had no idea," he breathed, shaking his head. He took a deep breath. "We'll save you and your family from fiends like that," he vowed passionately. "I don't know how we'll manage it, but we'll do it!"