A Refuge at Highland Hall (12 page)

Penny's throat tightened, and she had to blink before she could continue reading. She knew his work was dangerous, but seeing those words written by his own hand made it even more real and frightening.

You asked what you might send in your next package. That's kind of you to ask. We are well supplied here, but news from home and perhaps a photograph of you would be most welcome.

Penny's heart fluttered, and she read the last few lines again. He wanted her photograph…goodness…that sounded hopeful.

Thank you for your kind invitation to visit you at Highland Hall. I would like that very much, but I'm not sure when it will be. None of the other pilots here have had enough leave to return to England, so I doubt it will be any time soon. But if there is any way I can get back, I will come and see you. There's nothing I'd enjoy more than that.

She lifted her hand to her heart.
Oh, if only he could come.

Until then, take good care of yourself, and say hello to all the children and the family there at Highland. I enjoyed hearing how you and the children are spending your days, and I will look forward to your next letter.

With a grateful heart,

Alex

Penny carefully folded Alex's letter, slipped it back in the envelope, and smoothed out a wrinkle on the flap. Almost a week had passed since he'd written—was he still safe and well? A tremor traveled down her arm, and she pushed her worries away.

He might not be able to come to Highland soon, but she could write to him, encourage him, and assure him of her friendship and continued prayers. And…

A smile touched her lips.

She could grant his request and send her photograph.

A
tangy, salt-laden breeze blew through the open window of the briefing room and past Alex's shoulder. He pulled in a deep breath, and memories of his time at sea came flooding back. He'd been at St. Pol almost a month, but he'd lived aboard ships for years. The work was hard and the days were long, but he loved being out on the ocean, sailing off on a new adventure every few weeks.

Commander Longmore's voice broke through his thoughts, and he focused up front again. The commander's briefings were usually short and to the point, but he'd kept the men longer this morning. Alex could hear a heightened sense of urgency in his voice.

“There was another bombing raid in England last night.”

Alex tensed, and his sister's face flashed through his mind, then Jon's image and the wounded men at St. George's Hospital. He clenched his jaw, thankful Penny, Kate, and the children were safely away at Highland.

“A Zeppelin dropped more than fifty bombs on the eastern shore. There is no word on the number of casualties yet, but the damage is more extensive than the raid earlier this month. The Admiralty is requesting additional reconnaissance flights along the coast today.” Longmore scanned across the group. “Wilson, I'm tapping you and St. Charles for that mission.”

“Yes, sir,” they both replied.

Longmore's gaze narrowed. “The rules of the game are inflexible. If you hear a machine gun other than your own, do not wait to see who the target is. It's undoubtedly you. Stalk your quarry. Fly high, out of sight, into the clouds or the sun. As you move in, stay in his blind spot, behind him and beneath his tail. Get as close to him as possible before you fire. Then shoot in short blasts.”

The gazes of all twenty-two men were riveted on their commander.

“Don't waste fuel or time.” Longmore continued, “Your goal is to complete your mission and return to base in one piece. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sir.” The response rippled across the room.

Alex looked around at the other pilots' somber faces. No doubt they were all thinking of Dwight Harvey. He had taken off yesterday morning to photograph a German submarine base, but he'd never returned.

Had he been shot down, or had he crashed into the sea? It was possible he had engine trouble and made a safe landing in some field behind enemy lines. If that were the case, he would most likely have been taken prisoner by now, but they wouldn't hear about it for weeks.

The muscles in Alex's shoulders knotted. Spending the rest of the war in a German prisoner-of-war camp would be a miserable fate, but he supposed it was preferable to being shot out of the sky. He forced away such chilling thoughts, then focused on Longmore again.

“I expect you to carry out your duty to King and country.” His intense gaze eased, and a steady light glowed in his dark eyes. “All right, men, you have your orders. You are dismissed.”

Alex rose from his chair.

“Goodwin,” Longmore called. “I want you and Meddis to stay behind.”

Alex walked forward. His name had not been on the list for a flight today. What did Longmore have in mind?

The commander grabbed his clipboard from the desk, then turned to face Alex. “Meddis tells me he's designed a new bomb rack for your planes.”

“Yes, sir. They carry six bombs, with a wire and toggle for release.”

Longmore nodded. “I want you to test it out today. I'm sending you to attack one of the German airship sheds.”

Energy surged through Alex, alerting all his senses. Destroying an airship shed, with perhaps even a Zeppelin housed inside, could prevent some bombing raids in England and save countless lives. “Where is it located, sir?”

“Near Düsseldorf.”

Alex's breath hitched in his chest. Düsseldorf was in northwestern Germany, far behind enemy lines and hours away.

A deep frown slashed Meddis's face, and he shook his head. “That's too far, sir. He won't have enough fuel.”

“Yes, it's too far from here, which is why I'm sending you to a forward airfield near Antwerp.”

Alex's mind spun. “I thought the Germans controlled Antwerp.”

“They do, but we have access to an airfield outside the city where you can touch down and refuel before you head east into Germany.”

Meddis rubbed his chin. “That sounds risky, sir.”

“It is, but that's the only way we can reach Düsseldorf.” Longmore fixed his gaze on Meddis. “I want you to go with him.”

Surprise rippled through Alex. The Morane was a two-seater, but a single pilot could fly it from the rear cockpit, and that was what Alex had done since his second week at St. Pol.

The mechanic stared at the commander. “You want me to fly with him to Antwerp?”

“Not just Antwerp. I want you to fly with him to Düsseldorf and back.”

Meddis's eyes widened. “Sir?”

“He'll need someone to help with observation while he focuses on navigation and staying out of sight of enemy aircraft.”

Meddis gave a slow nod, but he didn't look convinced it was a good idea. “The extra weight will burn more fuel.”

“True, but he may need a mechanic as well as a copilot.”

Meddis glanced at Alex, his brow still creased. Alex returned a confident nod, hoping his friend would see the wisdom in Longmore's plan.

“I think you two are the right men for the mission. Are you willing to go?”

Alex studied the commander. He wasn't usually given a choice to accept or decline a mission. He supposed the danger of flying so far behind enemy lines had prompted Longmore to give them a choice today.

Alex didn't even have to think twice. He straightened his shoulders and looked his commander in the eye. “If there's a chance to destroy a Zeppelin, I'll do it in a heartbeat.”

Longmore's eyes lit up. He gave an appreciative nod, then turned to Meddis.

The mechanic's face reddened, and he looked away. Finally, he huffed out a breath. “All right.”

“Good. Sir Winston Churchill will be pleased.”

Alex blinked and stared at Longmore. “He's the First Lord of the Admiralty, right?”

“Yes. This mission is his idea. I'm confident he'll be eager to hear your report when you return.”

Alex couldn't hold back a grin. He'd been given a mission by the First Lord of the Admiralty himself! “We'll give him a good report. You can be sure of that.”

Longmore sobered. “Don't get cocky, Goodwin. This is serious business. I'm counting on you to stay focused and do your best flying.”

“I will, sir.”

Longmore took a map from his desk and opened it. “I've marked the airfield, here, northeast of Antwerp, just past the canal, and this is the location of the airship shed at Düsseldorf.” He looked up at Alex. “Study the map carefully and plot your course.” He turned to Meddis. “Prepare the plane. I'd like you and Goodwin to take off for Antwerp as soon as possible.”

“Yes, sir.” Meddis's nod was decidedly grim. Well, Alex couldn't blame him. This would be a dangerous mission. But if they were successful, they'd be saving countless lives.

Alex accepted the map, then saluted and turned to go.

Meddis followed Alex out the door, then gripped his arm. “This has got to be the craziest idea I've ever heard! Refueling in Antwerp, behind enemy lines, and then flying over Germany!”

“Aw, come on. It's brilliant. No one has tried anything like it. We'll take them totally by surprise, destroy the shed, then fly out of there before they know what hit them.”

“That, I would like to see.”

Alex chuckled and slapped him on the shoulder. “And you will, my friend. You will.”

Halfway into their mission they refueled at the small airstrip north of Antwerp with no problem. Then Alex flew east toward Düsseldorf, with Meddis riding in the front cockpit. One hour into the flight they changed course and headed slightly northeast, looking for the Rhine River.

Everything was going according to plan, and they hadn't run into any trouble, but Alex's shoulders remained tense as he scanned the sky. He was used to flying missions up and down the coasts of France and Belgium where he had daily encounters with enemy aircraft. Maybe that was why the stillness unnerved him. But most of the German airfields were farther south, closer to the front. That could be why they hadn't run into any enemy aircraft today.

He checked his instruments again, then surveyed the countryside below. The fields looked like a patchwork quilt from this height, with only a few winding roads and small villages scattered across the landscape.

Meddis looked over his shoulder at Alex and pointed to the left. “There it is!”

Alex strained to hear him over the roar of the motor, then looked in the direction Meddis had pointed. In the distance, the Rhine River came into view. From this height it looked like a deep-blue ribbon, curving back and forth through the fields and forests.

Alex banked to the right and brought his plane around to follow the river south toward Düsseldorf. He pictured the map in his mind, thinking through the landmarks that would lead them to the air sheds just outside the city.

Ten minutes later, Meddis pointed to the cluster of buildings just visible to the south. “Düsseldorf!”

Alex pulled in a deep breath and set a straight course for the city. The Rhine curved around on the west in the shape of an ear. When he reached the bottom curve of the river, he banked and flew due east. Checking his watch and gauges, he calculated the time it would take to fly the last few miles to the air shed.

He ran his left hand across his goggles to clear away the dust, then scanned the ground, looking for the railroad tracks that would lead him to the target. With any luck, he might even see one of the giant airships tied down nearby to confirm the location.

Patchy clouds drifted toward them, blocking his view. Alex's stomach contracted. He needed to see the railroad tracks to find his way, but descending below the clouds would put him in the range of artillery fire. He might be able to get through without being spotted…but his engine was loud, so it wasn't likely.

The same thought must have struck Meddis, because he turned and looked back at Alex as they headed toward the cloud bank.

Alex pointed down with a firm nod. He had no choice. He'd have to fly below the clouds or risk missing the air shed. Diving down quickly wouldn't be a problem, but gaining height again would take time, and if the Germans caught sight of them, he'd have to do some fancy flying to avoid being shot out of the sky.

He gripped the controls and glanced at the wooden eagle Penny had sent. He'd read those verses so many times in the last few weeks they were permanently etched into his mind. If there was ever a time he needed the Lord's help to mount up on wings like eagles, it was today.

Watch over us, Lord. Help me find my way.
He gripped the stick and dove down into the clouds.

A few seconds later, the white, misty veil parted, and the view of the city opened up before him. “Look for the tracks!”

Meddis gave a thumbs-up and leaned to the left, searching the ground. Alex looked to the right, scanning the area below.

Without warning, shells exploded around them. Meddis yelped and ducked. Alex clamped his jaw, made a hard left turn, then nosed the plane higher toward the clouds again. He'd have to circle around and come back for another pass. He rose up through the misty clouds and came out the other side. The railroad tracks appeared directly below them. His heart surged. “There they are!”

Meddis looked over the side and whooped. Alex grinned, then followed the tracks heading east. If his calculations were correct, they should see the air shed in the next five minutes.

With narrowed eyes, he scanned the pathway below. Buildings were scattered along the tracks, but none were large enough to house the giant Zeppelin. Finally, a long building three or four times the size of the hangar at St. Pol came into view. Military trucks were parked alongside, and a high fence surrounded the property. Large sliding doors stood open at one end, and the gray-green nose of a Zeppelin poked out onto the tarmac.