A Matter of Honor

Without warning the plane began to descend sharply. “I shall try for that field over there,” said the flight lieutenant, sounding remarkably blasé as he pointed to a large expanse of land to the west of the aircraft. “Hold on tight,” he said as the plane spiraled down inevitably. The large expanse of land suddenly looked very small as the plane began to approach it.

Adam found himself gripping the side of his seat and gritting his teeth.

“Relax,” said the pilot. “These Hawkers have landed on far worse places than this,” he went on, as the wheels touched the brown earth. ?

??Damn, mud. I hadn’t anticipated that,” he cursed, as the wheels lost their grip in the soft earth and the plane suddenly nosedived. A few seconds passed before Adam realized he was still alive but upside down, swinging from his seat belt.

“What do I do next?” he asked the pilot, but there was no reply.

Adam tried to get his bearings and began to rock his body backward and forward until he could touch the side of the plane with one hand while gripping the joystick with his feet. Once he was able to grab the side of the fuselage he undid the belt and collapsed onto the roof of the plane.

He picked himself up, delighted to find nothing broken. He quickly looked around, but there was still no sign of the pilot. Adam clambered out of the plane, glad to feel the safety of the ground. He searched around for a considerable time before he discovered Alan Banks some thirty yards in front of the aircraft, motionless on his back.

“Are you all right?” asked the pilot, before Adam could ask the same question.

“I’m fine, but how about you, Alan?”

“I’m okay. I must have been thrown clear of the aircraft. Just sorry about the landing, old chap, have to admit it wasn’t up to scratch. We must try it again sometime.”

Adam burst out laughing as the pilot slowly sat up.

“What next?” Banks asked.

“Can you walk?”

“Yes, I think so,” said Alan, gingerly lifting himself up. “Damn,” he said, “it’s only my ankle, but it’s sure going to slow me down. You’d better get going without me. That bunch back there with the arsenal can only be about thirty minutes behind us.”

“But what will you do?”

“My father landed in one of these bloody fields during the Second World War and still managed to get himself back to England without being caught by the Germans. I owe you a great debt of gratitude, Adam, because if I get back I’ll be able to shut him up once and for all. Which lot are chasing us this time, by the way?”

“The Russians,” said Adam, who was beginning to wonder if perhaps there was a second enemy.

“The Russians couldn’t be better; anything less and Dad wouldn’t have accepted it as a fair comparison.”

Adam smiled as he thought of his own father and how much he would have liked Alan Banks. He touched the icon instinctively and was relieved to find it was still in place. The pilot’s words had only made him more determined to get back to England.

“Which way?” asked Adam.

The pilot looked up at the Great Bear. “I’ll head east, seems appropriate, so you’d better go west, old fellow. Nice to have made your acquaintance,” and with that he limped off.

“I’m not sure how much longer I can last, Comrade Major.”

“You must try to hold on, Valchek. It’s imperative that you try. We cannot afford to stop now,” said Romanov. “I know that plane isn’t far. I saw it falling out of the sky.”

“I believe you, Comrade, but at least let me die a peaceful death on the side of the road, rather than endure the agony of this car.”

Romanov glanced across at his colleague, who had been shot in the abdomen. Valchek’s hands were covered with blood, and his shirt and trousers were already drenched as he tried helplessly to hold himself in. He continued to clutch on to his stomach like a child about to be sick. The driver had also been shot, but in the back while attempting to run away. If he hadn’t died instantly, Romanov would have put the next bullet into the coward himself. But Valchek was a different matter. No one could have questioned his courage. He had first taken on the British flat on their stomachs and then the Americans charging in like the Seventh Cavalry. Romanov had Mentor to thank for ensuring they had been there first. But he must now quickly warn him that someone else was also briefing the Americans. Romanov, however, felt some satisfaction in having tricked the Americans into turning their fire on the British while he and Valchek waited to pick off the survivors. The last survivor was an American who fired at Valchek continually as they were making their getaway.

Romanov reckoned he had a clear hour before the French, British, and Americans would be explaining away several bodies on a disused air field. Romanov’s thoughts returned to Valchek when he heard his comrade groan.

“Let’s turn off into this forest,” he begged. “I cannot hope to last much longer now.”

“Hold on, Comrade, hold on,” repeated Romanov. “We can’t be far from Scott. Think of the Motherland.”

“To hell with the Motherland,” said Valchek. “Just let me die in peace.” Romanov looked across again and realized that he could be stuck with a dead body within a few minutes. Despite Valchek’s efforts, the blood was now seeping on to the floor like a faucet that wouldn’t stop.

Romanov noticed a gap in the trees ahead of him. He switched his lights full on and swung off the road onto a dirt track and drove as far as he could until the thicket became too dense. He switched off the headlights and ran round the car to open the door.