The Paul And Jenny Stories Pt 16N

The Paul & Jenny Stories Pt. 16n: Spanish Honeymoon Part 14

Paul.

I hoped nothing had happened to Jenny. I could feel my stomach muscles tighten when I thought of the way Rogers' hand had rested on her ass cheeks.

I looked back over my shoulder at the shoebox. Perhaps he had just forgotten it. No. That was unlikely. He had only brought that and the map on board. I needed to get to it. I reached back towards it. My fingertips just brushed it. If I could just get it a few inches closer.

I looked around. There was nothing I could knock it down with.

Perhaps I could make it slide towards me?

I pulled back on the control column and lifted the nose of the plane into the air to gain height. I climbed to five thousand feet. I steadied off and throttled back for a few seconds then pushed the nose forward and dived towards the sea beneath me. I looked over my shoulder. Nothing was happening. I pushed the nose further forward. All I could see before me was sea. I looked again. It was moving. Sliding across the top of Jenny's suitcase. I reached behind and grabbed it, pulling it into the front onto the passenger seat and pulling back hard on the control column. The sea was getting closer.

"Come on." I shouted pulling back harder.

I could see the horizon. I looked at the altimeter. Six hundred feet. The sea had seemed a lot closer.

I adjusted the trim, gained a thousand feet, trimmed the plane again and checked my course. Reaching across I pulled the shoebox onto my lap and with one hand tore at the tape the lid had been secured with. Finally I got it open. There was some newspaper inside, packing out the box. I threw it onto the passenger seat.

There were two bright orange tubes inside with something blue inserted into the end of each tube. They were detonators and the tubes were dynamite. I had seen lots like this in films. There were two wires leading from each detonator. One went to a terminal on a small square battery and the other to a screw that had been fitted into the face of a clock. Another wire lead from the hour hand of the clock back to the battery. All it needed was for the hour hand of the clock to touch the screw and the circuit would be complete.

It was nearly touching it.

I slid back my widow and looked out. There suddenly seemed to be boats everywhere. I couldn't throw it out. I felt behind the clock for the knob to adjust the time. Which way was it? My fingers wanted to turn it clockwise. No. That can't be right. I took a breath and turned the knob anti-clockwise. The hour hand moved away from the screw. I gave myself two and a bit hours and carefully placed the bomb back into its box.

I suddenly started sweating and wanted to be sick. I could do with a drink.

The bastards. They wanted to kill me. The bastards.

Think.

If they were trying to do that to me then what would they be doing to Jenny? I pushed the nose forward to gather speed. I could see the coast of Spain ahead.

What should I do? I could land at Malaga. Tell the police. But I would still have to convince them that the wife of one of their most important cabinet ministers was involved in smuggling the head of the separatist movement out of the country.

Wait a minute. I had smuggled him out. I had broken the law. They could put me in prison.

I twiddled the knobs on my radio. Nothing. Not a sound.

Think.

He wasn't carrying any pliers so all he would have had the time to do would be unplug it at the back.

I reached out my hand and followed the underside of the radio set. I could just get my fingers behind it. I could feel fittings and holes and leads. There was a lead that didn't have a hole.

This was hard work. Trying to work blind behind the back of the radio whilst keeping my plane on course and in the air one handed.

I managed to get a finger either side of the fitting and located the hole in the back of the set with my thumb. They were touching. The light on the front of the radio flickered. At least I was trying to put it in the right hole. I tried again. It was a tight fit but it was in. I pulled my hand out and sat upright. The light at the front of the radio was burning brightly.

Now what to do?

I was no better off. Still, I had better see if anybody was looking for me.

I tuned into the local private pilot's frequency. The usual clutter of noise. People were wanting to take off and land. No mention of me.

What would have happened if the bomb had gone off? It didn't seem to be a big bomb. It would have been enough to bring me down. I was certain of that.

The water was deep out here. Too deep for divers and I couldn't see them sending down submarines to find out what had happened. And if they did what would they find?

I could make out Malaga ahead, slightly to my left. I turned towards it then banked away. Best not fly over the villas.

What was I going to do when I got there? I didn't have a clue. I climbed over the mountains to the east of Malaga then banked to the west.

The airstrip was very well hidden until you were almost upon it. It had originally been built by the Germans during the Spanish Civil War as a base for their planes.

There it was. I throttled back and lost height. I couldn't tell what way the wind was blowing so I took the chance that it was the same as it had been this morning and dropped down to land.

I turned the plane around once I was down and taxied back to the start of the strip then turned again. I checked the full gauge. It was mid-way between a quarter full and empty. That would be more than enough to get us back to Malaga airport.

I switched off and climbed out. I felt as stiff as a board. It had been nearly four hours. I must have flown over four hundred miles. It was the longest I had ever been up in one go. Longer even than my flight in the Seaplane in the Caribbean. It was a good machine.

My tongue seemed to fill my mouth. I couldn't remember feeling this thirsty before.

I stretched and touched my toes twice. I could do with a piss. I reached up into the plane and took down the shoebox. With it under one arm I locked the doors of the plane I headed towards the track leading to the old convent.

I stepped behind a tree for a piss then hurried on. I hoped nothing had happened to Jenny. I broke into a jog then remembered the shoebox and settled for a brisk walk. I breasted the hill and headed down towards the convent ruins. I could see a small car parked away to one side. I recognised it as Rogers. I heard a noise. A faint muffled sort of noise. I started to run.

Where was I going to run too? A cave had been mentioned. Which cave? This range was littered with them.

Some bushes were moving at the foot of the steep valley side. I stopped and crouched behind some rubble. Two men appeared. I recognised them as Roger's friends from the pub.

"You're on your own now." One of them called as they ran towards the car.

They climbed in and drove away. I made my way as quickly and as quietly as I could to the cave entrance.

I stood and listened. I heard somebody groan. Then Rogers voice.

"Now you bitch."

"Leave me alone." It was Jenny's voice.

I slid down into the cave feet first. The entrance was well lit but it got progressively darker the further you looked inside.

I could see Victoria, naked, on the floor by my feet as I stood up. She was curled up in a ball holding her stomach. I could make out the shape of a man lifting himself off the body of a woman.

"Paul." The shape of a woman's body cried out then burst into tears.

Roger's was moving in front of me. He was holding his trousers up with one hand and reaching out towards a wooden case with the other.

It was small and black. I finally recognised the smell in the air. It was a firearm and it had been used recently.

I dropped the shoe box and leapt forward towards the weapon as Roger's fingers closed around it. We struggled together. He must have dropped his trousers because the fingers of his other hand were feeling for my eyes. I had to release my hold on his weapon hand with one hand to protect them.

He was stronger than I was. He was pushing my head back against the wall. I could see the revolver turning towards me. I brought my knee up as hard as I could between his legs. I connected with something. He swore and tried to hit me with his head. It grazed my cheek and ear. Banging my head back against the wall. Suddenly his whole body was thrust hard against mine. Jenny had jumped upon his back. She had one arm around his throat and her other hand on mine on his gun hand.

Rogers released my face and tried to pull her off. I struck at him with my fist.

The three of us fell to the ground. The gun went off. The bullet ricocheted twice then I felt Rogers stiffen and Jenny yell out.

Rogers wasn't moving. I looked at Jenny.

"Are you alright?" I asked, taking the Revolver from Rogers' hand.

"I'm hurt."

I could hear the pain in her voice.

I knelt above her. She was holding her arm. There was blood seeping out from between her fingers.

Victoria moaned.

There was a rumbling from deep inside the mountain.

I felt Rogers stirring.

"Can you stand?" I asked Jenny.

"My arm hurts." She protested.

"We must get out of here."

I looked down at Rogers. There was blood welling from a hole in the back of his shirt and bubbles of blood around his mouth.

Victoria groaned again.

I pulled Jenny's fingers away from her arm. Then I pulled away her blouse where it was sticking to her wound.

She winced.

"Ow."

"Sorry."

There was a gash in the inside of the muscle at the top of her arm. It looked painful. It was bleeding a lot. Taking out my handkerchief I folded it into a pad and pressed it against it. Undoing two of the buttons on her blouse I eased her hand inside to form a sling. I redid one of the buttons to keep it in place.

"We must get you out of here." I said, kissing her on the forehead.

I helped her to stand; supporting her as she almost fell. I stuck the Revolver down the waistband of my trousers and helped her to the cave entrance. With a hand on either ass cheek I pushed her up the slope. She slid back. I pushed again.

"Help me Jenny." I pleaded.

She mumbled something.

I found a foothold and heaved her up. She rolled over away from the entrance.

I dropped back into the cave and checked on Victoria. She'd stopped groaning. I felt for a pulse in the side of her neck. It was very faint. Then I lost it. Then I felt it again.

What was I to do? I looked across at Rogers' body. He wasn't moving or making any noise.

There was a bottle on its side on top of the packing case. I picked it up. It smelt like orange squash. I lifted it to my lips and drank. That was better. I drank again. Jenny needed a doctor. I couldn't carry all three. Jenny was my priority. I could radio for somebody to come and help. That was it. Fly Jenny to the airport. Radio ahead for an ambulance.

There was something about that drink.

I scrambled out of the cave and knelt by Jenny's side. The fastenings of her skirt were torn. She wasn't wearing any knickers.

The bastards. What had they done to her?

She was very pale. There was a dark wet stain on her blouse. I took off my shirt and tore it into strips. I could do with a lie down. Later.

I opened her blouse and lifted her arm. They'd broken her bra. Not that she really needed one. Her breasts weren't that big. Her nipples were nice. Very suckable.

What was the matter with me? I had to bandage her arm and get her to the plane.

It all seemed like too much trouble. I could just lie down by her side. That would be nice. I opened my eyes. I was still kneeling by Jenny's side.

Bandage her arm. I made a pad out of the material of my shirt and tied it into place. A strip of cloth for a sling. Another around her chest to hold her arm still. This still seemed an awful lot trouble to go to.

If I could just rest.

I felt happy. Jenny looked so peaceful lying there. I shouldn't disturb her.

I'd felt like this the day before when Izabella had gone down on Jenny in front of me and I had done nothing but watch her.

The sun was warm on my back. It was so quiet here. So peaceful.

I shook my head. I had to get Jenny to the plane. I struggled to my feet with her in my arms. She'd put on weight.

I wasn't going to carry her too far like this. I staggered across to the convent ruins with her and sat her on a pile of rubble. I turned and backed into her and managed to pick her up piggyback with my hands under her thighs. That was better.

I stumbled past the ruins of the old convent buildings and up the track at the head of the valley. It was cooler here beneath the trees. I started singing a song. I made the words up. Swore out loud. Anything to stop myself from sitting down and closing my eyes.

I did close my eyes. I counted the steps I took. Tried to work out if I took twelve paces every ten yards how many paces would I need to take to cover a mile? I was going up hill. Fifteen paces to every ten yards. One thousand seven hundred and sixty yards. How many was that in tens? I must stay on the path. I opened my eyes.

That was the path all right. I could stop and rest. Jenny wouldn't mind.

Keep walking. Keep counting.

The footing beneath me changed. I was going downhill. I blinked the sweat from my eyes. Down the hill. Make up a song. Almost there.

I came out of the trees out of the strip. Where was that fucking plane? What made me park it all the way down there?

I stumbled on.

It didn't seem to get any closer. My eyes were full of sweat. My head was thumping. I ached all over. I wanted to close my eyes and rest.

I heard Jenny groan.

"Ah."

"Can you hear me?" I asked, breathlessly.

"Where?" She spoke feebly.

"Near the plane." I looked ahead. We were near it. "Taking you to hospital."

"Oh." She moaned. "Tired."

I reached the passenger door.

"Can you stand?" I asked, propping her up against the side of the plane.

I held her in place with one hand on one of her breasts as I searched for the keys. Finally I got the right one and opened the door. I lifted, pushed, prodded and poked at her until she was in the passenger seat. I made my way around to the pilot's side and, unlocking the door, climbed in.

That felt good. A weight off my legs. My muscles relaxed. Now if I could just close my eyes for a bit.

"Rogers raped her." Jenny said, weakly.

"What?" I snapped awake. "Raped who?"

"Victoria."

"The bastard."

"Wanted me."

"You rest."

"No. Mustn't sleep."

She was right. I had to keep her conscious. And myself.

It was hot in this machine. I turned on the engine key.

"We're going to the airfield." I told her. "I'm going to take off."

"Good."

I looked across at her. She had her head turned towards me. Her eyelids looked heavy. She smiled weakly.

"How did I get here?" She asked.

"I carried you."

I pulled back on the control column of the plane and the wheels lifted from the ground. I banked to the right. My eyes wanted to close I rubbed them and opened the air vents to there fullest. I shivered at the sudden blast of cold air. I looked across at Jenny. She was looking at me.

"He raped her." She said weakly.

"Who?" I asked, continuing my climbing turn.

"Rogers." She looked pale. "He raped Victoria."

"Never mind that." I yawned. "We're out of it now."

Oh, to sleep. I shook my head.

"They said you were dead."

"I'm not." I said, placing my hand on her thigh and giving it a squeeze.

She placed her hand on top of mine. I glanced at her face. She smiled.

I straightened the plane. Adjusted its trim and headed back towards the mountain range. I could see the 'vee' of the top of the valley that led to the old convent and headed for that. We would only be ten minutes from Malaga airport. We breasted the top of the hill. I could see the ruins of the convent church ahead. There was a car coning up the valley. Suddenly it felt as if we had run into a brick wall. The plane was throw up and to the side. I fought the controls to steady her. Jenny moaned. The air was full of dust.

Coughing and spluttering I circled above the valley.

I waited for the dust to settle. The car had pulled to a stop. The last remaining walls of the old convent Church were no longer standing. Part of the hillside had moved.

A man and a woman were running towards the hillside. I could see them clawing at the rocks. Jenny groaned again.

I couldn't stay. The engine was starting to cough and splutter. I looked at the fuel gauge. It was above empty. The engine spluttered again. I pointed the nose towards the airfield at Malaga turning on my radio and adjusting my headset.

I called up the tower at Malaga. The radio traffic was intense. Other pilots were reporting a huge column of smoke and dust above Malaga town. I tried to get my voice heard. Nothing for it.

"May day. May day."

I gave the international distress call.

The radio clutter ceased as if somebody had thrown a switch.

I gave my registration number. Told them I had an injured passenger and that my aeroplane was acting up.

I looked across at Jenny and then beyond her. There was another light plane flying at my wingtip. He waved at me.

I'd thought I'd had the air to myself. If I had been flying with my Grandfather in the First World War I would have been dead by now.

He was pointing at something beneath the plane. I didn't know what he meant. His voice came through on the radio.

"Hello."

I responded.

"There is damage to your plane."

Oh fuck.

I looked up at the wing above me. There were two holes in the starboard wing, another in the port. It looked as if somebody had been firing at me.

"You have damage to your starboard wheel."

"What's wrong." Jenny asked.

The engine spluttered again.

"Bit of bother."

There was another plane off to my left, another above. I had clearance to land.

I banked towards the airfield. I could see the private flying clubs landing strip ahead. To my left, the wide, concrete runway of the international airport.

There were vehicles moving about in the distance. The ground was approaching. I throttled back. The engine cut out. There was only one place for me to go now. Down.

I tried to keep my glide as shallow as possible. The ground was coming up too fast. I tried to keep the right wing up. I felt the wheels touch. We bounced. We touched again, there was a loud crack and suddenly we were spinning. Around and around. I grabbed Jenny as she was thrown against me. The noise was incredible. Something hit my arm, my leg, my foot, and my knee.

Then there was silence.

I hurt.

I was still holding onto Jenny. She wasn't moving.

"Jenny." I shouted. "Jenny."

People were wrenching open the doors of the plane.

Somebody eased Jenny from my arms and I was half dragged and lifted from the plane.

That hurt.

There were bells ringing and lights flashing.

"Where's Jenny." I asked, first in English and then in Spanish.

"Don't worry." Somebody answered in Spanish. "You'll be alright."

I didn't care about whether I would be all right. I wanted Jenny to be.

A woman, then a man was feeling my body. I tried moving. Everything seemed to work. I tried to sit up.

"Where's Jenny?"

"How do you feel." A man in a white coat was asking me in Spanish.

"I feel all right." I tried to shrug him away. I wanted to be with Jenny.

The man in the white coat left me and other hands helped me first to sit and then to stand.

The rear doors of an Ambulance stood open and I was helped towards it. I stopped and looked back at my plane before I climbed in. The airscrew was broken, I'd lost a wheel, and I had a puncture in the other main wheel. The wings looked bent. The front windscreen was broken. It looked hurt.