"Pleased to meet you Mr Bedford. Have you been to Egypt before?" Alexander shakes the man's hand warmly.

In reply to John-Marc Falcon (msg # 42):

Karlhienz also shook his hand, smiling. For once, the rumpled mechanic was clean shaved and didn't smell of schnapps.

"Hallo. I am pleased to be meeting you," he said, with a thick German accent.

10 o'clock in the morning
Clear and sunny

The week had been a strange one. Some of the investigators had looked into getting quantities of ammunition. They had an idea that whatever they'd be facing, it would take whatever strength they could muster.

But Cynthia had had a very strange week of a different kind. She tried to read the scrolls in French and Latin, but they were very obscure and obviously the products of diseased minds. She was unable to make heads nor tails from them. Africa's Dark Sects was a different matter. It was of recent authorship, so it was eminently understandable. But what was inside was fantastic, the result of a man of science and learning trying, and perhaps failing, to document that which was perhaps best left within the jungles of darkest Africa. Indeed, for perhaps a day after she completed her studies, she was in little more than a stupour, her will sapped by a strange lethargy. Many hot baths and sloe gin fizzes later, she was somewhat herself.

The ledgers (from the Penhew Institute and Al Misr House) were long and pretty straightforward to John-Marc. There were entries for shipments to and from ports around the world, on every continent. The entries that stuck out were of ones that matched the addresses on the shipping crates: Darwin, Australia and Shang Hai, China. JM was able to read the scrolls in Arabic, they were religious texts in praise of the Dark Pharaoh and the Bloated Woman.

Alexander, Count Bathony and Mr. Perkins spent their time reading some of the scrolls, these seemed to be of little value.

The statues! Ah, the statues. Molly and Cynthia had photographed them, and JM had taken a look at them. One was a small bluestone 16" statuette of a fat flabby winged man with tentacles growing from his face. All three felt a curious tingle when they touched it, but no harm came and the felling immediately faded.  It was odd, but nothing compared to the other statue. It was a corroded brass statue of some perverted fertility figure, a bloated woman.

Soon, the adventurers were arriving at the airfield, driven from London by Darragh in Dr. Weston's Rolls Royce Silver Ghost. It was a pleasant enough ride, all things considered. Their baggage had arrived earlier, to be loaded onto the planes.

As the car pulled up on the grass, they saw JM, Alex and Karlheinz talking to a solid-looking chap with a dashing moustache. He was dressed as a pilot, obviously the friend JM had engaged to help ferry the Brisfit.
This message was last edited by the GM at 11:52, Thu 08 Aug 2013.

In reply to Alexander Hussein Mahfouz (msg # 43):

Shaking the man with a firm shake, he answered, "Why yes, I've been to Cairo and Alexandria, on my way to the Mideastern Front.  It was a pleasant enough place.  Certainly a lot more exotic than the grey old motherland."

Soon the car pulls in, and Roger looks over to see the others, "Oh, you're friends. Didn't have any plans as to whose flying with who?"
This message was last edited by the player at 13:19, Thu 08 Aug 2013.

JM glances over at the car. "We'll put the civilians in the Vimy unless one of them wants to fly with you Robert."  He glances up at the wind sock and then the clear sky.  "An excellent day for flying.  A good omen."

In reply to Roger Bedford (msg # 46):

"Do you play ze chess?

"Ven vee vere in zee Zeppelin, some of zee baskets vere spearated. Ve vould play chess undt communicate with small chalkboards. Big enough for couple of words. Can alzo giff zee simple kommands, like bearing, direction undt altitude, if a course change is made. Vee vill be close enough to be readink zem, but vee can use zee binoculars to zee zem better, ya?"

In reply to John-Marc Falcon (msg # 47):

"I'd be happy to fly with Robert if he doesn't mind....Just until our first stop. I've never been in a small plane before."

Alexander looks rather excited at the prospect.

JM nods.  "The ride will be far more exciting in the Brisfit Alexander.  Just make sure you are very warmly dressed.  I have a few spare flight suits, helmets and goggles for you if you'd like."

"Alrighty then, the morning.  Whatever we decide I do not mind.  And certainly Karl, I wouldn't mind trying out playing chess by binoculars!"

In reply to Roger Bedford (msg # 51):

"Is gut, ya. I haff undt travel chess board. Vee can be picking up anozzer in... Vere are ve goink? Paris?"

He looked up at the wind sock, which showed a slight head wind, and then at the arriving town car.

"Act, gut! See others haf arrived. Ve can get in zee air macht schnell... very quickly."

In reply to Karlheinz Bergmann (msg # 52):

Getting out of the car, Dr. Weston pulled ot of the boot the bags he intended to carry onto the airplane. His carry-on baggage, if you will.

Walking over to the Vimy, he introduced himself to Roger. "I am Doctor Phillip Weston. Jolly pleased to make your acquaintance, sir!"

He was a portly white-bearded man, more towards old age than middle aged, but healthy and with a keen eye. The Doctor was dressed in fine travelling clothes.

Looking over the gentlemen as he approached, he shook his hand, "And pleased to make your acquaintance too, chap."  He took hold of the man's bags to load them into the Vimy, "I hope that the trip will be pleasurable to you, though I can't promise anything, I must say.  Ya just never know what the skies will throw at us.  Though to be sure, everything seems quite pleasant at the moment."

Things seemed quite curious to Roger.  He'd been a little surprised when out of the blue, he'd received the call from John-Marc, but then it was mighty interesting to see his travelling companions, and for all the places in the world to be flying them, it was Cairo.  Curiouser, and curiouser.

The Count surveyed the airfield as they drove towards the plane. He had not left England since his rather hurried arrival only a couple of years ago. As he exited the vehicle he had a strange sense of foreboding and as he looked across the car to Mr Perkins he couldn't help but wonder if he felt the same.

Their luggage consisted of two steamer trunks, two leather gun cases and another leather cartridge magazine, a large book truck and the Counts carpet bag. The majority of it was the Counts he had spent a very relaxing day with Mr Falcon as they shopped at Gieves & Hawkes Henry and Poole & Co for appropriate attire for the tropics. Mostly consisting of cotton and linen suits, silk shirts etc. He had ended the day at Firmin & Sons having a British tropical uniform tailored and then next door at Bates for a couple of Panama hats, one was a extra wide Fedora and the other a Planter style. He was also able to succour a pith helmet from the same maker.

He looked the planes over from the side of the car as he help Mr Perkins with their luggage, it would all go in the cargo area of the plane except for the Counts carpet bag.

Cynthia has had to pack her trunk for the first time in quite a while. While she understands the concept, she can't seem to fit everything in one trunk as Anna or Mr. Singh had been able to, which resulted in an awful crisis of fitting everything in two trunks or throwing it out (well, shipping it back home). Clothes, guns, books, make-up, fineries, and so on quickly fill up. Away with the coats and wellingtons for London.

But she does arrive at the air field, perhaps slightly delayed, wearing layers. Stockings under a cotton skirt, blouse, chemise, sweater, hiking boots with double socks, all under a comfortable cloak. From her experience, air flight can be cold, but Italy and Egypt will be warm. Best to permit easy transitions, where feasible. However, a cold flight will be perfect for keeping her small, portable liquor cabinet chilled, as well as the picnic lunch of sandwiches and fruit. The cards and books she brought should be fairly resistant to the temperature, regardless, as long as it isn't too bumpy.

Fortunately Cynthia wasn't expected to CARRY all her luggage.

Molly went through the check list one more time.

Camera and equipment - checked
Reporting equipment - checked
dresses - (sadly) checked
suits - (gladly) checked
fancy and frilly women's underwear and stockings - (guilty pleasure) checked
various shoes and jewelry - checked
new hats - (carefully) checked
Money hidden in various places on her body - checked

Molly smiled and looked around.  She had sent a missive off to her uncle to say she was on the trail again and would see him when she could.  She also had sent a small "human interest" article to him about her meeting with the fabulous Gertrude Bell.

Yes, she was ready to go off again on another part of the adventure.  With a smile she closed her door and waited as the cabby finished putting her luggage in the vehicle.  It didn't take long for the cab to get her to her destination.  It was one that she had used before so knew that he wouldn't talk.  Of course a healthy tip never hurt and with his cocky nod she knew that he had gotten the message.

She tipped her hat as the cab took off to stop the dust from getting into her face and turned to meet the others.  Molly was glad that it was 1925.  The hemlines of skirts had gone up and allowed more movement which was what Molly liked.  Today she wore a skirt that was JUST above her knees and looked like a layers of pleats. Molly also wore a white blouse which had just enough of a ruffled neckline to show around the V of her jacket.  The piping on her jacket drew attention to the ruffles in a most delightful way.  She wore more sensible shoes which consisted of a one inch heel and her Choche hat topped her head, allowing her finger waves to peep out.  She had a matching sweater on her arm and a lap robe in case it got chilly.

"Good morning everybody.  I was worried for a little bit that I'd be late but see that I'm not.  Cynthia, my dear, did I say that I totally enjoyed our romp in the stores the other day?  I couldn't have done it without you."

The drive out to the aerodrome had been a nearly silent affair. Neither the Count or himself seem to need to converse about the upcoming trip, he was looking forward to it but the destination may unfold to be a nightmare. Funny how nightmares seem to be in the land of the living now.

He had witnessed several strange things in his time, there was the ghost in the manor they were selling the contents of, the staircase final that would burst into flames in his family home. Lastly he had seen a solitary figure when he was in no man's land one night waiting for a target. It was picking over dead corpses before it bloody took flight of all things. Thank god he was heavily camouflaged as he did want to see that thing close up whatever it was.

All those things did not come close to what he had witnessed recently though, he gave a shudder and took a deep breath. When he looked up he saw the Count looking at him from across the car roof, he gave a slight nod as he went to get their luggage.

He had a small section of one of the steamer trunks where he had stowed his clothes and personnel items. A small shoulder bag for several necessaries for the plane journey and his leather bound case for his two pryse revolvers. He wore his Browning automatic in its usual shoulder holster, but the revolvers were new.

He had acquired them from the London Armoury gun shop where the Count was a frequent customer. They had sat undisturbed in the display case for as long as the Count could remember, something of a antique collectable oddity. Far too powerful for even occasional target use they were a life saver against tigers, elephants or drugged tribesman. Or nightmares come to life he thought to himself as he grasped the handle on their case.

In reply to Molly 'Mungo' Fuller (msg # 57):

"Of course, it pays to be prepared. And unlike some people, we don't have military uniforms we can use as casual, formal, and evening wear. I also purchased some Mothersill's seasick remedy. I've not tried it, but if Italy's skies are as bad as their roads, you're welcome to take a few."

In reply to Cynthia Jane Holloway (msg # 59):

Molly smiled at Cynthia.  "That is great.  I will admit that with the men flying, sometimes they leave my stomach a turn behind them.  Normally it's not a problem but sometimes.  What does she use for air sickness?"

JM greeted each of the passengers as they arrived at the field.  He worked with Robert and KH to carefully stow the luggage such that the aircraft was well balanced and nothing would shift about in flight.  As well he had a short discussion with a pair of men who drove up in a small lorry which resulted in several small boxes loaded aboard marked with the name of a local pub.  He walked over to Robert with a small satchel. "Sandwiches, water and something a bit stronger to drink Robert.  There is extra for your passenger as well and I've loaded food for those in the Vimy." He handed over a large oilskin map case.  "Charts for the trip at least as far as Paris.  We can get the rest of the charts there.  I didn't want to order up the whole set here in case anyone came sniffing about our trail."

He called out to his old comrade.  "Karlheinz, can you start getting the passengers aboard and settled?  We'll want to leave at the top of the hour."

In reply to Molly 'Mungo' Fuller (msg # 60):

"I'm not certain. The package doesn't list the ingredients, just what it does not contain. No cocaine, morphine, opium, or chloral coal tar. I thought we could try it out, since we expect to be flying so much."

In reply to Cynthia Jane Holloway (msg # 62):

Molly nodded.  "This flight might test how truthful their advertising is.  We'll hope it won't be a "buyer beware" type of incidence."  Molly smiled at Cynthia and waited for the guys to help them get on board the plane.  She wasn't sure which one they were to take otherwise she'd be on it already.

Alexander gets changed into the appropriate flying gear and then does everything that Roger Bedford tells him. He's hoping to at some stage on the trip have a go behind the stick.

He's grinning like a schoolboy.

Looking with approval at the supplies from the "local", the County Members (down the street from the BP filling station) Karlheinz helped get everyone settled.


The two aircraft were parked at the end of the grass runway. It being a beautiful early spring day, the local aero racer club was doing some practice laps of the airfield. Old surplus aircraft zoomed by at treetop altitude, flown by daredevils who, like Robert, had found peacetime not exciting enough for their blood.




Planes were taking, off, landing, and taxiing to and from the hangars. The airport staff laid out ground signals to manage the busy traffic. The same staff would take messages for JM's hangar, and pass them along to Det. Sergeant Darlington. Darlington owed the investigators, because of them he was moving up in the Met. CID and sure to make Detective Inspector one day, rather soon.

In reply to The Keeper (msg # 65):

Darlington had arrived by motor car as the last details were being arranged. He sauntered over, tipped his bowler hat at the ladies.

"Blimey! Oi, yew lot 'arf a noice trip naow, yeah? Oi'll look arfter fings 'ere, dawn't yew worry about nuffink.

"Oi wish Oi could go with you, but I got a career what needs lookin' arfter 'ere, right? Ga'wan, kill some bugga's fer me!"

He shook hands with everyone, wishing them a safe and quick trip.

In reply to Albert Darlington (msg # 66):

The Count shook the Detective's hand;

"I shall, look you up on my return. Good day to you Detective and thank you for all your help."

He then entered the plane taking the first available seat next to Mr Perkins. He closed his eyes for a minute as he went over the hectic last week. The Countess deal had finally come to it's conclusion with the sale and most of the receipts concluded.

He had an emotional parting with his good friend Sarah Evens who had insisted on accompanying him to wherever he was going. It was only after many hours of reassuring that he would be in complete safety and would write every day that she was sated.