Dennis Wheatley - The White Witch of the South Seas

The aircraft droned on. James was dozing and so was the Major. Gregory decided that he now would also take a nap. As he settled back, he became conscious that the plane had started to come down. Sitting up again, he looked out of the window. They were near quite a big island. The moonlight threw up its mountain’s and cast deep shadows in its valleys. But there was one broad, open space almost immediately below them. As Gregory stared out, he could hardly believe his eyes. There were buildings down there clustered round a dozen huge rockets.

The truth flashed upon him. Ribaud had proved cleverer than himself. To make certain of keeping France 's dangerous secret he had double crossed them and sent them back to Yuloga.

12 ?Land Safely or Die

From having been half asleep, Gregory's brain instantly began to turn over as fast as a dynamo. He could not altogether blame Ribaud for having done this to him. The General's first duty lay not to an old friend, whatever trouble he might be in, but to France. Had Gregory been responsible for keeping a British secret of equal importance, he felt he would have done the same. Short of having him and James shot, this was the only way in which Ribaud could make absolutely certain of ensuring their silence. That Gregory might have escaped from a fortress in New Caledonia he had accepted, but to escape from the Russians on Yuloga was a very different matter. As he had done so once,’ they would make certain that he was given no chance to do so a second time. And the first time had been difficult enough.

There flashed through Gregory's mind the many nights which they had spent laboriously working with the steel half shoe heel on the screws that held in place the gratings of their cells, the scores of hours spent cautiously exploring the island, the nerve racking delay while the Melanesians repaired the sail of the big canoe, then the desperate risk they had taken of being shot to pieces before they cleared the reef and reached the open sea.

By now those gratings would have been made permanent fixtures and there would be surprise visits by the guards to the prisoners' cells, some time each night. Gone for good was any chance of carrying out midnight reconnaissance’s and, even if one could, there would be little point in them, for it was quite certain that the Russians would have scoured the island for any other abandoned canoes and would have destroyed them. All this made the possibility of another escape about as remote as had been the chances of getting away from Devil's Island in the Victorian era.

The future, then, held the awful prospect of imprisonment for an indefinite period certainly for many months, perhaps for several years with no hope of a reduction of sentence or reprieve. Perhaps even worse. On finding that no fewer than six of their prisoners had escaped and got clean away from the island, the Russians must have been furious. Now that two of those escapers were being returned to them they might well take strong measures.

Gregory suddenly had an awful vision of himself and James tied to stakes in the courtyard of the prison while a firing squad lined up to shoot them just as an example to the other prisoners of what might happen to them should they give any trouble. The Russians were a law unto themselves. No one could call them to account for such an execution or, the odds were, would even hear about it. If Ribaud chanced to do so he would probably consider Gregory fortunate not to have met such a fate much earlier in life, drink an extra glass of cognac after dinner to the memory of an ace secret agent, then forget the incident.

All these thoughts rushed through Gregory's mind in a matter of seconds. Looking down again, he saw that they had passed over the rocket launching site and that the aircraft was slowly circling to come down in another valley in which rows of lights showed there to be an airstrip. The fact that they were on was a clear indication that Ribaud had sent a signal to the Russian Commandant, telling him to expect the aircraft.

Gregory knew that there was only one thing for it. James, beside him, and the Major, in front of him, were still dozing. With his right elbow he gave James a fierce dig in the ribs. Throwing himself forward he flung his left arm round the Major's neck and jerked his head violently backwards. At the same moment his right hand descended on the pistol holster at the officer's side, wrenched it open and grasped the weapon.

Within seconds of Gregory's first move, entirely unaware of what he was about to do, the pilot cried, `We'll be landing in a few minutes. Fasten your safety belts.'

At the unexpected sound of threshing limbs beside him, he turned. By then Gregory had pulled the pistol from the holster, struck the Major a sharp blow on the side of the head with the butt and had the weapon pointing at the pilot.

`Up!' he snapped. `Up, or I'll put a bullet through your head! We are not landing, and if you won't fly this plane I will.'

The aircraft was down to a thousand feet. The pilot, his eyes staring, did as he was bade and pulled back his joystick, but at so sharp an angle that the aircraft shot up as though about to loop the loop. The manoeuvre came near to giving back the mastery of the situation to Ribaud's men. Gregory and James, who had half risen, were flung violently back into their seats, and the gun was jerked from Gregory's hand. But, as he had already knocked the Major unconscious, the odds remained two to one against the pilot.

Grimly endeavouring the carry out his mission, the pilot brought the aircraft down again in a steep dive.

`Half choke him!' Gregory cried urgently, and as he stooped to grope about the floor for the pistol, James's great hands closed round the pilot's neck from behind. As the pressure increased, he let go of the controls and began to claw frantically at James's fingers. Still the aircraft descended.

At that angle Gregory could see ahead out of the forward window. The plane was plunging straight to earth. The flares on the runway seemed to be leaping up to meet them. Forcing his head and shoulders between the unconscious Major and the pilot, he grabbed the joystick and pulled it back. The aircraft shot up again at such a steep angle that he feared it must stall. But it was now flying at an altitude of no more than five hundred feet. Then, to his horror, he saw that it was hurtling direct at a rocky peak that rose up from the centre of the island.

By then the pilot, half strangled, had had enough. His eyes starting from his head, he stopped clawing ineffectually at

James' hands and let his own fall,, then rammed down his left foot on the rudder bar. The plane banked steeply.

At that moment the stunned Major came round. Unaware of the acute danger, he gave a groan, turned sideways in his seat and grabbed Gregory by the shoulders, wrenching him away from the controls. James let go of the pilot's neck to come to Gregory's assistance. The back of his fist smashed into the side of the Major's face. With another groan, he fell back in his seat. The pilot gasped in breath, then, panting wildly, seized the joystick. The plane zoomed up. It was touch and go. They missed the side of the rocky peak by no more than twenty feet.

Seeing that for the moment disaster had been averted and that the pilot had come to heel, Gregory again groped on the floor until his hand closed on the pistol. Picking it up, he jabbed the barrel into the pilot's ribs and snarled, `Now, damn you! Do as I tell you or I'll put a bullet through your guts. Take her up to two thousand and head due east.'

The man had no more fight left in him. Rapidly the aircraft gained height, banked again and came round on the given course. A few minutes later the island of Yuloga was fading away into the night behind them.

Blood was trickling from the side of the Major's mouth where James had struck him. His kepi had fallen off and he was sitting hunched up with his head lolling forward, but his eyes were open, showing that he was still conscious. To make certain that he would give no further trouble, Gregory handed the pistol to James, then, with his left hand, grabbed the man by the hair, pulling his head back, and with his right undid his tie. Thrusting him forward again he pulled his arms behind his back and used the tie to secure his wrists firmly together. '