Anno Dracula 1918 - The Bloody Red Baron Read Online Free PDF Page A

Raymond issued a stern notice to the fool typists at Wing. They've started spelling it properly.'
    'Perhaps you'll make it to the top again,' said Courtney. Nobody laughed.
    'You ought to be a pilot,' Cundall said to Winthrop. 'Begins with a W. You'd never have to go up. Williamson would be in the air before you.'
    Picking the first name on the list was a fatuous idea. But any other choice would have been as arbitrary. Cundall's ragging irked Winthrop. It was the flight commander's responsibility, no matter that he had manipulated someone else into making the decision.
    Even the vampires were restless, jittery. Conversation took silly turns. Bertie and Lacey compared eccentric, fearsome aunts.
    Winthrop thought of Spenser, wondering what made a man drive nails into his own brain. As he was taken away, Spenser was smiling. He seemed not to be in pain.
    There was a long-case clock in the room, face cracked across, stopped at ten to seven. Winthrop alternated looking at the broken clock and his watch. It was twenty to midnight.
    The Château du Malinbois was forty miles off. An SE5a could make a hundred and twenty miles an hour but flying above the cloud, navigating by the stars, Albright would go slower. It might take several dips to look at the land before he found the objective. Captain Midnight was only human, even if a vampire.
    If Albright wasn't back by twelve, it didn't mean he wasn't coming home.
    'Poor Butterfly' slowed and Courtney wound her up again. After a comically sped-up squeak, she settled into her usual rut.
    Waiting, waiting. Wasting, wasting.
    Winthrop thought of Catriona. He must write and tell her his duties had changed. He could not mention Diogenes, of course. Also, the censors would blank anything about Spenser. No wonder the army provided form postcards; fill in the gaps, strike out anything that didn't apply and sign your name. He missed being able to talk things through with Cat. She had a keen intellect and usually found a different way of looking at a thing.
    'Two minutes to,' Williamson said.
    Winthrop checked his watch. Time had lurched forward. After a moment lasting a quarter of an hour, a quarter of an hour had gone in a moment.
    'I think I hear him,' Bertie said.
    Courtney, swift as a snake, lifted the needle from the record, cutting off 'Poor Butterfly' in mid-waste. Winthrop heard noises in his head and the everlasting shelling, but nothing more. Then, perhaps, something.
    With exaggeratedly casual gait, Cundall ambled over and opened the door. There was definitely a distant sound, a whine or a rumble.
    'He'll be on the dot,' Courtney said. 'Captain Midnight returns.'
    Cundall stepped outside and everyone followed, elated. Light strayed across the field from the open door. A tall figure stared into the sky. Dravot had stayed at his post all the time. Winthrop would not have been surprised if an icicle had hung from the sergeant's nose.
    Nobody had said they thought Albright would not make it home, so they couldn't now be relieved when he did.
    'It's an SE5a all right,' Williamson said. 'No mistaking that cough.'
    Winthrop saw the black bubble outlines of the clouds. He strained to see more.
    'There, look,' Ball said, extending an arm that kinked at the elbow and wrist.
    Something dipped out of cloud. Winthrop heard the engine clearly. He realised he was holding his breath and exhaled a plume of condensation.
    'Can he see the field?' he asked.
    'Of course,' Cundall snapped. 'Eyes like an owl. But there's no harm in giving him a flare. Allard, pop one off, would you, there's a dear.'
    The American, wrapped in a cape, produced a Verey pistol and fired upwards. A purple shell burst high, colouring cloud! from within, bathing the field in violet.
    The SE5a rounded to approach the field. Winthrop had seen pilots stunt to impress fellows on the ground (some who survived dog-fights broke their silly necks trying to look heroes to pretty nurses) but Albright was better than that. Cundall's Condors