The Secret Battleplane by Percy F. Westerman
CHAPTER XI
THE FATE OF A SPY
"ALL out, Dick," shouted Blake, at the same time coupling up the wingmechanism. Sergeant O'Rafferty, springing to the after machine-gun,swung the weapon upon the nearmost of the German troops. As he did soa ragged volley greeted him, the bullets either passing through thealuminium covering of the chassis or else whizzing harmlesslyoverhead.
With her wings beating the air with tremendous force the battleplanedrew clear of Mother Earth. Four or five Germans, rushing forward,clung desperately to the framework of the landing wheels, amongstthem the Hun who had so successfully posed as a Belgian officer.
Unfortunately for them they had totally under-estimated the liftingpower of the mechanical bird. Blinded by the cloud of dust thrown upby the flapping of the huge wings and deafened by the roar of theexhaust--for Dick had opened the cut-out in order to give the motorsfull play--the Germans were unable to realise that their efforts tokeep the battleplane pinned to the ground were unavailing.
Although the machine rose rapidly it lacked the speed that it usuallyattained. Powerfully engined as she was the battleplane could notignore the additional weight of five burly Brandenburgers.
"Motors running well, Dick?" asked Blake, shouting to make himselfheard above the terrific din.
"Splendidly now," replied the lad.
"Then see what's dragging her," continued the pilot, whose wholeattention had to be centred upon the steering of the machine.
Dick made his way to the still open hatchway in the floor of thefuselage. He was hardly prepared for the sight that met his gaze.
Three Germans were astraddle of the horizontal girders supporting thelegs of the landing-wheels. Another had thrown arms and legs round anupright and was bellowing lustily. The treacherous Hun who, under thename of Etienne Fauvart, had all but succeeded in capturing thesecret battleplane, was clambering up the lattice work, with hisrevolver hanging from his teeth by means of the lanyard. Dickpromptly shut the sliding hatch and made his way to his superiorofficer.
"We've a fine crew of Huns hanging on," he reported. "Five of them,and that skunk Fauvart in addition. I'd like to get hold of him andfind out what's happened to Athol."
"In that case we should have to make a prisoner of him," repliedBlake grimly. "No; he'll pay for his treachery now. I don't believein prolonging the agony. Pass the word to Sergeant O'Rafferty to holdon tightly. And, please, muffle the exhaust. We'll alarm every Boschwithin ten miles of us."
Directly the motors were silenced a deafening concussion was heardclose to the underside of the chassis. A shrapnell shell, one ofmany, had just exploded. Some of the bullets perforated the wings orpinged harmlessly against the armoured plating of the fuselage. Twoof the Huns, struck by flying fragments of metal, relaxed their gripand fell through space on their long journey to the ground threethousand feet below.
"All ready?" shouted Blake warningly.
The battleplane tilted abruptly and made a complete loop. In fiveseconds she had regained her normal flying trim, but without thetreacherous German and his compatriots. They, unable to retain theirhold under the sudden change of direction, were hurtling earthwards,their despairing screams still ringing in the ears of the horrifiedDick.
But other work was on hand to distract the lad's mind from the act ofretribution. Desmond Blake's searching glance had discerned the roofsof four large sheds almost hidden between the trees, the roofs beingmottled so as to resemble as closely as possible the characteristicsof the surrounding verdure.
Rising to such a height that there was little danger from a directhit from the "Archibalds," the battleplane hovered over herobjective, spiralling in sharp curves so that the limit of her flightbrought her well within the perpendicular distance of her quarry.
At the order Sergeant O'Rafferty dropped two bombs in quicksuccession. The first, striking the ground close to the edge of theclearing, exploded with terrific violence, felling huge trees likeninepins and literally pulverising the nearmost shed. Almostsimultaneously the second bomb alighted fairly in the centre ofanother Zeppelin house. A stupendous explosion followed, a blast oflurid flame leaping skywards, and rending the gloom of twilight likethe concentrated flash of a dozen fifteen-inch guns. The roar of thedetonation was appalling. The battleplane, under the influence of thefar-reaching up-blast, shook like an aspen leaf, and fell verticallythrough a distance of nearly five hundred feet before the resistanceof the wings restored her equilibrium.
The appalling nature of the work of destruction so overwhelmed themen at the anti-aircraft guns that they ceased firing. Undisturbedthe battleplane continued circling, although at a much loweraltitude, her crew examining the results of the bombs with studiedleisure.
When most of the smoke had cleared away, although portions of thewreckage still burned furiously, it was seen that there was nonecessity to drop more bombs. Not a single shed was left standing.Gaunt skeletons of destroyed Zeppelins reared their bent and twistedaluminium ribs betwixt the gaping metal sheets that a few minutespreviously had concealed some of the latest types of the Kaiser'sair-raiders.
"Shall we give them another, just for luck, sir?" asked SergeantO'Rafferty.
"Not necessary," replied Blake, as he turned the battleplane in thedirection of a faint yellowish path of light upon the horizon--thelast vestige of declining day. "Lock the bomb-dropping gear,sergeant."
O'Rafferty hastened to obey, but by pure accident his foot slippedand came in contact with the disengaging pedal. Eleven seconds latercame the crash of the exploding bomb.
"Sorry, sir," exclaimed the sergeant apologetically.
"Let's hope it isn't wasted," rejoined Blake, ordering the motors tobe run "all out."
In the darkness the battleplane passed high above the opposing linesof trenches, their outlines rendered distinctly visible by theflashes of rapid rifle and machine gun fire, and the occasional glareof star-shells, punctuated by the high-explosive projectiles.
"Give them a call up, sergeant," ordered the pilot.
O'Rafferty brought the wireless into use, unwinding eighty feet of"aerial" that trailed behind the swiftly-moving battleplane. Inanswer to the message a blaze of electric arc lamps appeared upon theflying-ground.
Almost before the sergeant had wound in the aerial the battleplanewas ready for her earthward glide. Flattening out to a nicety shelanded within twenty feet of the door of the hangar, and wasimmediately surrounded by a throng of eager flying men.
"Instructions have been carried out, sir," reported Blake to the WingCommander. "Three, possibly four, Zepps have been destroyed."
"Any casualties?" asked the commander.
"Mr. Hawke missing, and believed a prisoner, sir. We had to make aninvoluntary landing, and were rushed by a German patrol. In thecircumstances no attempt at rescue was possible."
"And where is Lieutenant Fauvart?" continued the Wing Commander.
Desmond Blake smiled grimly.
"You palmed off a dud on us, sir," he reported, "so we dropped him. Idon't think he crashed more than a couple of thousand feet, but itwas quite enough to cause the German Intelligence Staff to lose oneof their pet stars."