looking over the controls. She tried to ignore the fact that the starboard engine was now fully alight and had stopped spinning completely. She decided to lower the landing gear early so that if she got it wrong she would have time for another attempt. She did not think there was any possibility that Hector might turn the aircraft around for a second attempt at landing. They only had one chance!
Nothing happened. Kate knew she picked the correct controls because she had raised the landing gear earlier after her mother’s eccentric time in the cockpit. Kate moved the switch to lift the landing gear up and then pressed the switch down again.
‘Come on,’ shouted Kate in frustration, as she desperately waggled the switch back and forth.
Kate looked around the cockpit at the holes, tattered cloth, smashed glass and shattered metal, and decided that her attempts were futile.
Hector had seen the problem and reassured Kate that he landed his plane in the computer game without any landing gear lots of times. At first this had simply been because he forgot to put the landing gear down, but later he landed without landing gear just because it was fun. The main thing, he explained to her, was not to hit the ground too hard, but to skid along. A tumble and spin on the ground was always something that lost you points.
‘Well,’ said Kate, ‘at least if you crash this you won’t lose any points. Your head may no longer be connected to your bottom via the middle part of your body, but at least your score on the computer game won’t go down.’
Hector spotted the sarcasm but ignored it. This was brilliant; this was better than the best daydream he had ever had; better even than the ones in religious education lessons. He was about to crash land a real plane and he was unsure whether to concentrate on the controls and the task at hand, or whether to carry on trying to count fire engines.
‘Hector,’ yelled Kate, ‘you’re looking at the fire engines. Concentrate on landing the plane you buffoon. If I live, and I have all my limbs, I’ll buy you a really big model fire engine. And in case you haven’t noticed the port engine is now on fire as well.’
‘Oh great!’ exclaimed Hector, as visions of a brand new favourite toy swam the into view in his mind’s eye, alongside the real vision of the rapidly approaching runway. He snapped back into reality because the plane yawed to one side as Kate lowered the flaps. Not all of the flaps worked, and Hector had to stretch to reach the pedals for the rudder.
The concrete was racing below. It looked hard and unforgiving. There were flashing blue lights all around as the fire engines raced along beside them.
The landing was brutal, but relatively quick. Hector flew along the runway for quite some way before making contact. He did not stall the plane, but he certainly made it lose a lot of its speed before it finally made contact with the concrete runway. There was a crunch as they hit the ground, followed by a horrible deafening scraping noise that filled the whole aircraft.
‘See,’ said Hector cheerfully as the fuselage scraped to a halt on the runway concrete, ‘I said we’d survive.’
‘Yes,’ said Kate, ‘and I said you always land in a heap of flaming wreckage, and you have.’
White spray filled the air as the fire engines poured foam on the burning wings. Men were suddenly breaking into the aircraft. Kate and Hector were quickly wrapped in fireproof blankets and carried to waiting ambulances.
‘Who are you? Where are we?’ asked Kate, looking round for Mum and Dad. The men did not seem to understand her. Hector realised that they did not speak English, and so decided to speak slowly and loudly.
‘Do - you - have - any - cakes?’ he yelled at them.
Minutes later Kate and Hector found themselves in a large airport building, in a strange land, with hostile natives, no real law, and nothing sensible to eat. They had landed in France.
Dad was taken off to hospital in an ambulance with Mum. Kate and Hector were assured that it was just a precaution.
It was two hours later when, in front of an impromptu gathering of several hundred people, Kate and Hector had been presented with medals. Hector repeatedly said that he would swap the medal for a ride in one of the fire engines, but either the local French dignitaries did not understand him or they did not believe him.
The ceremony went on for about fifteen minutes, which in Hector’s view was approximately fourteen minutes too long. He liked the applause and congratulation, but he did not like the speeches. Kate had to endure an annoying Frenchman who kept patting her on the head. Added to this Hector kept hissing threats about what he would do if his model fire engine did not turn up soon.
It was not until almost 9 o’clock that night that they heard that Mum and Dad were safe and well. Dad had received a nasty blow to the head, and the hospital had decided to keep him in for observation.
They also heard from Inspector Smithson. His message was that a special security nanny would be arriving to keep them safe.
CHAPTER TWO
Mrs Warp
A security nanny. What on earth was a security nanny? This question went through Kate’s mind again and again. The crowd had departed. The dignitaries had left. Kate and Hector had been sat in a corner of a large police office.
They had been told, in faltering English by a very tall French policeman, that they would be taken quickly and quietly to a secure house. The words discreet, quiet, hidden, dark, all seemed to swirl around whatever was planned next. The police were hushed, and now and then one of the policemen would glance over at Hector and Kate.
Hector had been very disappointed at the idea of being bundled into a small car and smuggled off to an anonymous house.
‘It’s a good idea Hector,’ Kate had assured him, ‘We need to disappear somewhere safe.’
Hector’s glum mood lightened slightly when the blue reflected flash of police lights danced around the grey office. There was a sudden bustle and urgency. It was apparent that many people had just arrived. Kate and Hector were beckoned outside. Kate could not believe her eyes.
‘What happened to discreet?’ she asked.
It was a motorcade. It was their motorcade! Hector was in raptures. He counted no less than seven police cars; all with their blue flashing lights on. There were two vans, the insides of which could not be seen. There were four police outriders on motorbikes. In the very middle of the motorcade was a large heavy S-class Mercedes limousine. Hector guessed at once that it would be bullet-proof.
Once inside the Mercedes, Hector went straight to the middle arm rest. If there was a mini refrigerator with some chocolate that was where it would be. It was exactly as he hoped; there as even some milk. Better than this was the noise when the motorcade began to move. All of the police cars seemed to have turned on their sirens. It was deafening!
Kate on the other hand was horrified, not just by the lights and sirens, but by how close the cars travelled together, and just how quickly they moved. It was fast, very fast, bordering on reckless.
While Hector experimented with every button he could reach, and managed to turn the air conditioning to very hot, very cold, completely off, and something resembling a gale; Kate noticed that the anonymous man in the passenger seat had a gun on his lap. The problem, she mused, with having so many people surround you with guns is that only one needs
