Crossing a ditch Gregory's party began to tramp through the thick snow of the open fields. After ten minutes' laboured going they came up against a wire fence which they knew, from what they had seen in daylight, marked the boundary of the aerodrome. Slipping through it they ploughed on through the snow on its far side. In spite of the darkness they could see for quite a distance owing to the light which the snow reflected, but on this night of death and terror it was not the pale, white light normally reflected from snow, by which, it is said Confucius, as a boy, learned to read on winter evenings because he was too poor to buy candles. It was tinged with a sinister crimson from the blood red glow shot with fiery orange that hung like a devil's
227
THE UNDREAMED OF TRAP 22']
pall above the burning buildings of the city. The light had a horrid, eerie quality about it yet, as they advanced, it served to show them the line of the hangars in one of which the Sabina plane was housed.
At a muttered word from Gregory they made a slight detour in order to get round to the back of the hangars. He meant to approach them from the rear so that if there was a watchman about they could take him by surprise and overpower him before he had the chance to raise an alarm and bring the airport police on the scene. Ten minutes later they had completed their slow, laborious trek and passing through a narrow corridor between two of the hangars came level with their fronts.
Gregory whispered to his companions to halt and peered out into the evil red twilight, first round one corner, then round the other. In normal times there would certainly have been a watchman on duty interval's, would walk round the whole block of hangars at intervals, but they had seen nobody at the back of the row and there was nobody pacing up and down in front of it. There was quite enough light to see some way across the open, but the watchman might be crouching over some hidden brazier inside one of the hangars, and Gregory thought it best for them to wait where they were for a little, as if there was a watchman there he would almost certainly come out to have a look round from time to time.
It was very cold but with that crisp, dry cold which is exhilarating, and in their excitement at the prospect of getting safely away from Helsinki they did not particularly notice it; although they instinctively kept their faces buried deep in their big fur collars and stamped their feet every now and then.
After a quarter of an hour it seemed that they had been waiting there for an age and Gregory began to hope that, after all, there was no watchman on duty. The first day of war in Helsinki must have thrown all ordinary routine right out of gear. The watchman must have been wounded in an air raid or called up for military service, and the people responsible for the safe guarding of the hangars had quite possibly been so frantically busy on more urgent matters that they had had no time to replace him. At last Gregory decided to have a cautious look round and whispering to the others to remain where they were he slid out as noiselessly as a shadow along the front of the hangars.
Ten minutes later he returned to inform them cheerfully that he had examined every likely place and that quite definitely there was no watchman on duty. They followed him out into he open and along to the third hangar from the left hand end of the row. The doors were padlocked but Gregory produced the heavy spanner he had begged of Loumkoski and in two swift wrenches tore the padlock away from its hinge; after which the double doors slid smoothly back upon their grooves.
While Gregory shone his shaded torch Freddie climbed into he cockpit of the plane and gave the instrument board a quick look over. To his joy he found that his orders on landing two days before had been carried out. The plane had been refuelled to capacity, so there seemed nothing to prevent them from making a direct flight to Stockholm. Between them they pushed the plane out of the shed on to the hard, frozen snow and while he two girls and Gregory stood by, Freddie spent five minutes examining the controls to see that they were all in order; then they turned the plane so that it should face the wind.
They had only just finished when Erika gave a gasp of dismay and tugged at Gregory's shoulder. Swinging round he saw coming towards them, from the direction of the airport Buildings, a group of figures.
"Quick!" he shouted. "On board, all of you Freddie, get her going "
At the same instant one of the approaching group shouted something in Finnish and they all began to run.
Freddie was in the plane and Angela was scrambling up beside him but Erika and Gregory were still on the ground when the group of men came pounding up to them. One was in pilot's kit; there were five others, armed police and airport officials. Gregory realized that there was nothing for it but to turn and face them.
"Hullo! What's the excitement?" he said in English. "What do you do here?" one of the airport men replied in he same language.
"Getting out while the going's good," replied Gregory calmly.
"But you 'ave not pass the controls and 'ave no permit." "I'm not going to allow a little thing like that to stand in my way in times like these," said Gregory. "Our passports are all order and we've come straight from the British Consulate." "Yes, yes; per'aps. But you cannot take this plane." "Why not? It's mine."
The official shrugged. "All planes 'ave been commandeered under an emergency decree we make this morning."
"You can't commandeer this one " Gregory retorted swiftly. "This plane is the property of the British Government."
"I can," replied the official abruptly. "As I 'ave told you, we 'ave powers to commandeer all planes under an emergency decree."
"But this is flagrant interference with the rights of neutrals."
"That I cannot 'elp. Compensation will be pay to you for et but Finland makes war and every plane in Helsinki is needed." The official glanced up at Freddie. "You, there in the pilot's seat please to come down! "
Gregory could hardly contain his cold, fierce wrath. In another five minutes they would have been on their way out of Finland to Stockholm and perhaps twenty four hours later safely home in England. Now they were stuck again with no means of getting out of the country. Worse still, by now the names of Freddie and himself had probably been circulated as those of men wanted for murder and at any moment the airport police might demand to see their passports.
For a second he played with the idea of putting up a fight. Freddie was still in the plane and had only to press the self starter. Gregory would have risked being shot by drawing his own gun and leaping up into the cockpit, but he had the two girls to consider. In a shooting affray they might easily be wounded or killed and Erika was still standing beside him. Before they could both get up into the plane they would be dragged back. There were six Finns against Freddie and himself so the odds were much too heavy and he dismissed the idea as soon as it came to him.
Grimly he nodded to Freddie, who had been waiting for some sign from him whether to obey the order to get out or not. The airman reluctantly climbed down and Angela jumped out after him.
"There's going to be trouble about this," she announced sharply. "I'm Miss Fordyce, and my father is a special assistant to the British Consul here. He would have made other arrangements to get me to a place of safety if this gentleman had not offered to fly me home. If you detain me my father will make things jolly hot for you with your Government."