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Maps and Chipper – The Great(ish) Escape, Part 6



Maps and Chipper circled a suitable landing site, the engine of the large biplane spluttering and moaning as the fuel pressure slowly ebbed away. Finally and in silence Chipper skillfully guided the machine to a halt in a grassy field. Maps and Chipper shut the aeroplane down and secured it as best they could.

Charles watched the aeroplane descend and made his way to the site as quickly as he could.

“Quickly, get that contraption back in the air as soon as you can!”, Charles screamed.

Maps and Chipper had a peculiar knack of getting Charles’s back up when they had their feet on the ground. This afternoon was to be no exception!

“What do you mean No Fuel?”, demanded Charles.

“The tanks are empty”, explained Chipper.

“There is no fuel”,elaborated Maps.

“The tanks are dry, of fuel…there is none”, quipped Chipper.

Charles was in no mood to quibble at the quips of the two heroic airmen.

“Well don’t just stand there like a pair of statues!”, Charles sneered. “Go and get some”.

Maps and Chipper decided that the best thing to do was to head into town. Just before they left his presence, Charles gave them a final word of encouragement.

“I believe you know Victoria?”, he asked.

The two airmen nodded.

“She is on that boat with the prisoner, it’s her Uncle’s boat!”.

With a renewed sense of purpose, Maps and Chipper headed quickly into town.

Bardufloss began to whistle a popular tune, his air of good fortune had once again guided him to the safety of his own side. What tales he would have to tell his friends, colleagues and family. He held the wheel of the boat with a slightly less vice like grip, looked over his shoulder at his two captives, and once more heaved the boat to its correct compass heading.

Sitting cold but relaxing in the back of the boat, Uncle Jack and Victoria knew they had just to sit it out for a few hours and they would be home and dry. Every now and again, Uncle jack would cast his eyes in the direction of the Sun, mentally mark its position relative to the side of the boat, and smile.

It was not too long before Bardufloss called out that he had sighted land. The boat rocked high over the next wave before crashing into the trough of the sea beyond. once he checked and double checked the compass heading, his whistling getting ever louder.

Somewhere deep in the English coastal countryside, the spy Arnold sat at the roadside, his legs apparently tired of the long march he had endured toward captivity. Two of the three policemen that accompanied him had gone around a corner to share a well-earned cigarette. The remaining Policeman sat with his back to Arnold. Arnold sensed his opportunity and slowly and stealthily slid his cuffed hands over the neck of the unfortunate policeman.

“Quietly”, he whispered.

“Release my cuffs and no more will be said”, he politely advised the lonesome Copper. The policeman sensed his present danger and dipped a shaking hand into his pocket, finding the key he released the cuffs from Arnold’s hands.

“Stay precisely where you are”, Arnold asked him. “Do not move until I the other two come back”.

With that Arnold slid away into the fading evening sun.



The BEST holidays

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