The Forbidden Territory

XXI — The Homing Pigeon

It seemed an eternity to them as they waited, crouching in the shadow of the last trees that fringed the open space of the giant aerodrome. Within a mile there must be several thousand men; on the left the glow from the hundreds of windows in the main blocks of barracks veiled the night sky and the stars. Sounds of wireless from many loud-speakers came faintly to them; in one of the nearer huts a group of men were singing a wild, plaintive song in a minor key.

Each second Marie Lou expected to hear the sharp challenge of a sentry, or a single rifle shot. Either would bring that singing to a sudden stop, men would come pouring out, running with lights and rifles. What would happen then? Retreat without Rex was impossible with that terrifying electric fence behind them — capture would be only a matter of moments.

Simon sat patiently, propped against a tree. He was thinking of the grey figure they had seen among the trees on the day they first saw the fence and met Marie Lou. It was to be hoped that the sentries became so slack after eventless days in lonely woods that they dozed on their rifles. There had been no sight or sound of one when they made their crossing, and Rex had reported that the nearest sentries were stationed a good half-mile apart. Nevertheless, Simon kept his eyes away from the hangars and towards the fence, clasping his automatic firmly, and watching with strained eyes for any movement in the darkness.

Two whistles, low but clear, came out of the night All three silently left the narrow trench and wriggled forward across the open. The hangars loomed up before them, seeming preposterously tall from their position on the ground. Within a few yards of their goal De Richleau stood up, he helped Simon to his feet, and with Marie Lou on the other side, supported the wounded man round to the front.

The sliding door of the hangar stood a little open; they squeezed through. The only light was the reflection from Rex’s torch — he was already busy in the cockpit examining the controls. No trace of a sentry was to be seen.

In the uncertain light the ’plane seemed a strange monster; Rex leaned out. “There’s a step-ladder by her tail. Get Simon in the back.” De Richleau found the ladder and propped it against the side.

“Go on,” said Simon. “I can manage now, don’t worry about me.” He hauled himself up by his hands and one sound leg; fortunately, his wound had not reopened owing to the care they had taken in getting him so far. The Duke disappeared to find the petrol pump, and Marie Lou to keep watch outside.

The pump was only a few yards away, and De Richleau struggled manfully with the heavy wirebound rubber hose. At last he got the nozzle to within a few feet of the ’plane — Rex climbed down and gave an extra heave — a moment later petrol was pouring into the empty tank.

“Do you think you can handle her?” De Richleau asked.

“Sure,” came back the cheerful answer. “The helicopter’s no essential part of the construction. I was scared it might be; we couldn’t have sailed up through the roof! But it’s all O.K. I reckon we can taxi out and take off in the open like any other ’plane.”

“Where is the sentry?”

Rex jerked his head towards the back of the hangar. “Tucked up in a corner there, poor bum. I guess he never knew what hit him. Come on — now the reserve tank, then we’ll get right out of here.”

They heaved again on the weighty hose; when the tank was full they threw it on the ground, and turned their attention to the hangar doors — great sheets of corrugated iron and steel on rollers.

Marie Lou was outside, a small silent shadow — standing motionless and intent, her eyes riveted in the direction of the wireless music — the singing had stopped.

Rex and De Richleau put their shoulders to the sliding doors. Luckily the runners were well oiled; before long they had the hangar wide open. They could see the ’plane better now, it was a big double-engined monoplane, the engines fixed centrally a few feet above the wide metal wings, with propellers fore and aft. Immediately beneath, in the body, was a small cabin, with open seats for the two pilots side by side in front. Before each was fixed a wicked-looking machine-gun. At the back of the cabin were twin seats for observers, each equally well armed. The roof of the cabin bulged up in a wide funnel to the engine so that a mechanic inside could attend to them in flight. A tall shaft rose from the centre of the engines bearing the wings of the helicopter.

The Duke touched Marie Lou on the arm. “Quick, up into the back with Simon.”

He began to haul the nozzle of the petrol hose from under the ’plane. Rex had already clambered up into the pilot’s seat. “Don’t waste time monkeying with that,” came his sharp whisper.

“One moment, my son,” De Richleau persisted, dragging the hose outside the hangar.

“The ladder! What shall I do with it?” came Marie Lou’s voice.

“Shove it clear of the ’plane,” Rex called back softly.

From her seat beside Simon she gave the ladder a push. There was a loud clang as it struck the corrugated-iron side of the hangar. It shattered the silence like a blow on a giant gong.

“That’s torn it,” said Rex, angrily. “For God’s sake come on.” De Richleau clambered hastily up beside him.

With straining ears they listened for the sound of running feet. It did not seem possible that such a sound should pass unnoticed, but nothing stirred.

“All set?” cried Rex, loudly. There was an answering cry from Simon and the girl in the back. “Praises be she’s the latest thing in ’planes with an electric starter,” he added to the Duke, but the latter part of his sentence was lost in the roar of the engine. In the corrugated-iron hangar the noise reverberated like thunder — the ’plane remained quite stationary.

“Can’t you start her?” yelled the Duke, apprehensively, in Rex’s ear.

“Sit tight!” Rex bawled back.

The roar of the engine drowned every other noise, but in the distance, on the right, squares of light showed where the hut doors were being thrown open, and against the light little figures could be seen hurrying forward.

Suddenly the dark shape of a man loomed up right in front of the hangar; he shouted something — but what, they could not hear. He did not carry a rifle, and in the faint glow his face expressed surprise.

De Richleau levelled his automatic — another second and he would have pulled the trigger. With a gasp he lowered his pistol and stooping, yelled through the cabin to Simon: “Don’t shoot! For God’s sake don’t shoot!”

“Time to go home,” said Rex to himself, as he smiled in the darkness. He had not wasted the last few moments. Better to take the risk of a few shots as they left the ground, than chance a dead cold engine conking out fifty yards from the shed.

Slowly the big ’plane slid forward — the man ducked hurriedly under the right-hand wing — in a moment they were in the open and gathering speed.

As the ’plane left the shed the din of the engines lessened. A whole crowd of men surged out of the darkness, shouting and gesticulating. Somehow, to the occupants of the ’plane, they looked stupid and helpless — waving their arms and opening their mouths when not a word they said could be heard. One fell over backwards as he jumped aside to avoid the onrush of the metal wing. The speed increased — the cool night air rushed past — the ’plane began to bump gently in great leaps along the level ground; almost in an instant the running men were left behind, swallowed up in the shadows.

“We’re off!” cried Simon, to Marie Lou, and for the first time the girl realized that they had left the ground. Another group of hangars rushed past them, twenty feet below — they both looked back. The crack of a rifle came to them faintly from the hangar. It was followed instantly by a great sheet of flame.

The Duke gave a chuckle of delight — he had come through the small cabin and joined them unnoticed.

“What — what happened?” gasped Simon.

“I left the petrol turned on in front of the sheds,” De Richleau smiled, grimly.

“That’s why you called out to me not to fire?”

He nodded. “I only just remembered in time myself. If I’d shot that man the flash from my pistol would have blown us up.”

‘The hangars — they are on fire,” cried Marie Lou excitedly.

They were climbing swiftly now. Far below them, and to the rear, they could see the flames leaping upwards, and in the red glare little dots of men scurrying to and fro. The great arena of the camp was plainly discernible, and, encircling it, the darker ring of the illimitable forest.

A bright shaft of light shot up from one corner of the air-park, followed by another and another from different spots below. “Searchlights,” said the Duke. “They are trying to pick us up. I wonder if they have antiaircraft guns?”

A blinding glare suddenly struck the rapidly climbing plane, making even the interior of the cabin as bright as day. Without warning the ’plane dropped like a stone into the black darkness below. Marie Lou felt a sudden sinking in the pit of her stomach; the blood drained from her face. De Richleau was pitched backwards off his feet.

“We’re hit!” gasped Simon.

The Duke swore softly as he picked himself up off the floor of the cabin. “It’s all right,” he assured them. “Rex is dodging the searchlights.”

As he spoke the ’plane shot forward again. Far above them the beams were now concentrated on a single spot — the place where they had been only a few minutes before. Then they scattered and moved in grid formation across the sky in the same direction as the ’plane.

“Wonder if they’ve got sound detectors?” said Simon. “They’ll pick us up if they have.”

De Richleau shrugged and pointed below. “Rex has tricked them,” he declared. “Look, we are only two hundred feet above the tree tops. Even if they knew our position they couldn’t use their archies — we are below their angle of fire at this distance.”

“Please?” said Marie Lou, suddenly.

“What is it?” asked Simon.

“Go — go away,” she stammered. “I feel ill!”

“Will you be all right?” De Richleau spoke doubtfully.

She nodded angrily as he helped Simon into the small cabin. It contained a fixed table with a settee at each side long enough for a man to lie down at full length. At the front, through a mica screen, Rex’s broad back was visible.

De Richleau insisted that Simon should tuck up on one of the settees and take what rest he could. Feeling that he could be of little use, Simon did not need much pressing. He was terribly tired; it would be weeks before he recovered from his loss of blood.

Marie Lou joined them, looking pale and miserable. The Duke settled her, unprotesting, on the other settee, covering her warmly. Then he joined Rex in the forward cockpit.

“How is she going?” he inquired.

“Fine,” Rex answered. “She’s a daisy — I picked this ’plane because I saw a guy take her out yesterday; couldn’t risk boning one that might have been under repair.”

They were rising again rapidly, the searchlights had been left behind. “How is our supply of petrol?” asked the Duke.

“Pretty good. I guess these ’planes are raiders meant to cover long distances — fighting escorts for the big bombers — got to have juice to carry ’em the same distance, but much faster in manoeuvre. They stay behind to keep the enemy ’planes down while the big boys quit for home when they’ve dropped their eggs. We’ll be good for a thousand miles, anyhow — after that, may the Lord provide.”

“Sixteen hundred miles to the frontier,” the Duke bawled. “If the petrol lasts, do you think you can do it?”

“Be no ordinary performance if I do,” Rex grunted. “We’re flying against the world spin, remember; that makes it darn near equivalent to two thousand coming the other way. Still, it wouldn’t be a record if we made it, and I’ll say this bus is one of the finest things I’ve ever been in — I take my hat off to the Bolshie who designed it. What was the bonfire after we left?”

De Richleau explained about the petrol.

“Say,” Rex grinned, “that was a great idea. Talk about singeing the King of Spain’s beard! That fella Drake had nothing on you. Mighty dangerous, all the same — a back flash might have sent us all to heaven!”

Talking was a considerable strain, since to make themselves heard each had to yell in the ear of the other. For a long time they sat silent; the moon came up and lit the landscape of the endless forest stretching unbroken below.

After a long time, as it seemed, the moon passed behind a great bank of drifting clouds; a sprinkling of lights became visible directly in their course.

“Sverdlovsk,” called the Duke. “Bear to the left, Rex; we must avoid flying over towns. They will hear our engine, and I expect the wireless at Romanovsk has been busy.”

Rex banked steeply, leaving the lights away to the north. “How’s time?” he asked.

“A little after one,” De Richleau replied, glancing at his watch. “We have made splendid going.”

They were rising all the time now. The moon came out again and they could see that the ground ran sharply up in spurs and curves; the forest grew thinner, and for the next hour they were passing over the Urals. A gorgeous panorama was spread out below them. A world of white, made the more brilliant by the dark shadows of beetling crags with great rents and gashes in the glistening rock, seemingly fathomless pits of impenetrable blackness against the dazzling whiteness of the snow. A cold, hard, black and silver world, having something of unreality about it — the utter silence suggested death and desolation. Seen thus, the Urals might well have been the veritable mountains of the moon — a place where man had never been, could never go, where only evil lurked in the baleful, unrelenting light.

When they sank again to the foothills and forests on the other side De Richleau said: “I think I shall try to sleep for a little now. Wake me at once if you need me.”

“I certainly will, but I don’t figure I’ll have to. She’s going fine; the cold’s the only thing that gets me.”

De Richleau buried his head in his big fur collar, and wriggled down into a more comfortable position. The even hum of the engines soothed him, and he soon dropped off. The ’plane sped on, ever westward.

The Duke was awake again before six and peering out into the half-light. By glancing at his watch he realized that they must have come many degrees to the south during the night for the dawn to be so early. At first he feared that they had swerved off their course. He turned to Rex.

Rex saw him move, and yawned sleepily. “Thank God you’ve come to life. I’ve been terrified I’d drop off to sleep with no one to talk to.”

“Where are we? Do you know?”

“Haven’t the faintest, but we’ve kept on the dotted line all right I’m sick of the sight of this compass and nothing else to look at.” Rex yawned again.

De Richleau got out the map and began to search for landmarks by the aid of the increasing light. He had not long to wait before he found one about which there could be no possible mistake. Far below them lay a great broad river; it curved in an enormous horseshoe, extending over many miles, and on its southern bend straggled a dark patch of clustering houses. As they came nearer, it became clear that it was a city of some considerable size.

“Samara,” said the Duke, with conviction; “and the river is the mighty Volga. Look at it well, my friend; who knows if you will ever see it again.”

“Thanks,” said Rex briefly. “You can keep the Volga for me. I’d rather take a look at a plate of my favourite breakfast food.”

“Tomorrow, if our luck holds, you may!” De Richleau studied the map again. “Do you know that we are already half-way — we have done over eight hundred miles!”

“That a fact?” Rex brightened. “If so, we’ll make it; we haven’t used half the petrol yet”

The Duke was overjoyed. He went into the cabin to tell the others the good news. The morning light had just awakened them.

Simon, who had slept well and was looking considerably better, was surprised that it was so early, but De Richleau explained that they were now far to the south of Moscow — somewhere about the latitude of Birmingham, perhaps — by noon they might be as far south as the Channel Islands.

Poor Marie Lou looked very woebegone; she was shockingly pale, with great dark circles under her eyes. During the earlier part of the night she had been terribly airsick. De Richleau insisted that she should sit out in the rear cockpit with Simon — she would feel better in the air. When he had installed them he returned to Rex and said:

“Would it not be possible for me to take over for a little? You seem to sit there doing nothing!”

“Just what I was thinking,” Rex nodded. “A kid can fly an aeroplane these days once it’s off the ground. I’ll take her up another couple of thousand; then, if you do slip a thousand there’s no harm done.” He began to climb sharply.

The Duke settled himself comfortably at the second set of controls. “I was watching you last night,” he said. “I think I understand the principle of the thing.”

Rex laughed. “I wouldn’t have let you handle her over mountains; there’s air-pockets and every kind of snag, due to the uneven ground — but you’ll not get that here. Looks as though this plain goes on for ever — it should be dead easy.”

When they were well over five thousand feet Rex took his hand off the controls. “All you’ve got to do,” he shouted, “is to keep her steady, keep your eye on the indicator, and look at the compass needle now and again.”

For some minutes he sat watching the Duke’s first efforts as a pilot. They bumped a little owing to De Richleau’s eagerness to correct their altitude too quickly, but his long sensitive fingers soon found the right touch.

“You’ll do,” said Rex, yawning again. “If the ground gets broken, wake me; if anything goes wrong, you’re not the sort of man I’d insult by telling not to panic — but for God’s sake take your hands off the controls. Just give me one kick and drop ’em. Don’t attempt to right her; leave that to me. I’ll have her under control again long before we could crash at this height, even if she’s in a falling spin.” Next moment he was asleep.

The distant plain stretched out interminably. With practice the Duke soon grew more proficient. He would have liked to have tried a few experiments, but would not allow himself to be tempted into taking any risks.

The morning wore on, the ground below changed to long rolling slopes of grassland, the seemingly endless steppes of Russia. At a little after eleven they passed another great river, which De Richleau thought to be the Don. He woke Rex in order to make certain.

Rex, still yawning, but much fresher, took over the controls again, and the Duke consulted his map. Yes, it was the Don — their progress had been wonderful. They were now about three hundred miles south of Moscow, another four hundred and fifty miles would bring them to the frontier of Roumania, it really seemed that they might get through in this one tremendous headlong flight. All of them, except Marie Lou, felt in urgent need of food — the lockers in the cabin had been searched and found to contain nothing edible.

Just after midday they left a city that the Duke declared to be Kursk on their right. Their hopes rose more strongly than ever, for far below them lay the frontier of the Ukraine; at least, they were out of Russia proper.

The ’plane bored on to the west through the sharp, crisp air. With perfect rhythm the engines droned on over their heads. Rex was enchanted with the machine. For some time he had been puzzling about the mechanism of the helicopter. It was unlike any that he had ever seen, having two blades only instead of four. At last he solved the problem to his satisfaction and turned to the Duke.

“Cute dodge, that helicopter. When it’s not in action it forms another ’plane above our heads, both blades in alignment with the wings. They answer, too, at the same time to the controls. If you’re going to use it on its own, the right-hand blade turns completely over, so that the thin edge of both spins in the same direction when it revolves. Guess I’ll patent that when I get home!”

De Richleau looked up — it was true. Instead of four blades at an angle impeding the flying speed, and useless except for going up or coming down, the helicopter formed a small but perfect extra ’plane which helped to carry the weight of the machine. As he looked, the Duke’s eyes narrowed, and his mouth set in a grim line. He had seen something in addition to the helicopter. Above, and to the right, hovered six ’planes flying in formation. He nudged Rex and pointed.

“Holy Mike,” Rex groaned. “D’you reckon those birds are after us?”

“I fear so. Every air-park in the country must have been warned of our exploit at Romanovsk.”

Rex had already banked, and was heading away from the enemy flight towards the south when Simon touched him on the shoulder. He had crawled through the cabin. “Not that way, man,” he shouted. “Look below to the left — head north, Rex.”

Rex looked and swore — five hundred feet below him another flight was sailing. He tilted the ’plane sharply, to gain additional height, hoping to pass over them. That they were spotted was evident — the northern flight had wheeled swiftly and was climbing too.

“Hell’s luck,” Rex exclaimed. “Another couple of hundred miles and we’d have been safe home.”

“Do you think you can get through?” asked the Duke.

Rex shook his head. “You bet we’ll try, but there’s not a scrap of cloud to get lost in. Aw, hell! there’s another lot.”

Even as he spoke the Duke had seen them, too; a third formation, only specks in the distance, but in front, and flying high.

, “They’ve been sent up on purpose to intercept us,” he shouted. “We shall never get through this!”

Rat — tat — tat came the sudden warning note of a machine-gun in their rear.

Simon was at their side again. “No ammunition in the guns behind,” he said. “Got any in front?”

De Richleau shook his head. “None — I looked just after we started — but it would be useless in any case, we could not hope to fight a dozen ’planes, and there are more ahead. Rex, we must come down before we are shot down,” he added, as there came another burst of machine-gun fire.

Rex nodded. “Cursed luck; still, ‘while there’s life’. Let’s get out of the way of the rude man with the squirt.” The machine dived suddenly, and it was none too soon; the quick stutter had started again, and the first three bullets pinged through the wing.

Marie Lou was sitting in the cabin where Simon had pulled her when he had first sighted the enemy ’planes. He spoke to her now, quickly, urgently: “Look here, nobody knows you’re with us — it’s us they’re after, not you. When we land you must run for it.”

“Where can I go?” she protested. “It is terrible, this — that we should all be caught at last.”

“Anywhere’s better than prison,” Simon insisted, “and I want you to go to Moscow, as fast as you can — that is, if you get away. Here, take this.” While he was talking he had unbuttoned his coat and torn the ikon that Valeria Petrovna had given him from his neck. He thrust it into her hand and struggled along to the front of the cabin again. “Where shall we be near when we land?” he asked the Duke.

“Kiev,” said De Richleau, promptly. “I can see the spires in the distance and the two great rivers.”

“Right — give me your money, quick.”

“Why?” asked the astonished Duke.

“Give it to me; they’d take it off us, anyhow.” As he spoke Simon peered out. The tiny squares of the fields below them were increasing in size every moment — the earth seemed to be rushing up to meet them. He shouted in Rex’s ear: “Land near that village to the right — near the trees, if you can.”

Rex shook his head “Bad landing; the fields’ll suit us best.”

“Do as I say,” cried Simon sharply, taking, the Duke’s wallet. He handed both that and his own to Marie Lou. “Here’s money,” he said, breathlessly. “Get to Moscow, if you can; see Valeria Petrovna Karkoff, she’s the famous actress — anyone will tell you where she lives. Give her this locket and tell her we’re prisoners in Kiev — understand?”

Marie Lou nodded. “Valeria Petrovna,” she repeated. “Yes.”

The ’plane began to wheel in great circles at a steep angle. Simon peered out again. He leant over Rex’s shoulder.

“Think you can make the orchard?” he cried.

“I guess you’re nuts,” said Rex, not understanding what was going on. “There’s a couple of police cars following us on the road — they’re in touch with the ’planes by wireless, you bet — we haven’t a hope in hell of running for it. Still, I’ll do as you say.”

The roofs of the village seemed to be dashing towards them at a terrific speed. They skimmed the thatch of a big barn, and a moment later were bumping along a meadow at fifty miles an hour. With a sudden turn Rex ran the ’plane through a wooden paling, and they brought up with a mild crash against the first trees of an orchard.

“Splendid,” cried Simon, as the engine ceased to throb after its seventeen-hour journey. “Couldn’t have been better.” He was already helping Marie Lou to climb out at the back. “Run,” he shouted, as she dropped to earth.

“My bundle,” she cried; “throw me my bundle.”

“Never mind that,” yelled Simon. “Run!”

She shook her head. “Please — give it to me — I must have it.”

Angrily he spent a couple of precious minutes searching underneath the cabin table. At last he found it and flung it to her. “Quick,” he cried; “Valeria Petrovna; and if you ever get to London, go and see Richard Eaton — National Club — tell him what happened to us all.”

Rex had descended from the front. The Duke followed him more slowly. First he had secured a long flat tin from the cabin. It contained the last of the Hoyo de Monterreys. He lit one himself and offered the tin to Rex. “Thanks,” said Rex, as he walked round the wing and called up: “Simon, where are you?”

“Coming,” sang out Simon. He had just seen Marie Lou disappear among the trees.

Rex helped him down. De Richleau proffered him the last cigar. Simon took it with a grin. “Didn’t know you’d got any left,” he said, as he lit up.

“These are the last,” smiled the Duke. “I kept them for an occasion!”

“Where’s Marie Lou?” asked Rex, anxiously.

“She — er — stayed behind at Romanovsk,” said Simon. “Didn’t you know?” He drew the first puff from the long cigar. “Magnificent stuff, these Hoyos.”

The aeroplanes droned and circled overhead. The siren of a high-powered car shrieked a warning, a moment later the men of the Ogpu, with levelled pistols, came running from the near-by road.