"What," Rushton asked smoothing his fingers over his black bushy moustache.

"Well sir it looks like there may have been two spies on board."

Both of Rushtons eyebrows went up."

"Spies! What makes you think that?"

"Two of the men in there are wearing British uniforms."

Rushton looked inside the door.

"Well better get them out of there Sargeant. Look for clues. Documents, maps, anything."

"Yes sir," Doyle turned to Doug "Drag them out of the wreckage. Come on. Go! Go!" he yelled clapping his hands at his men.

Bert and Doug grabbed one of Kleber's legs each and pulled him from the plane. They laid him on the desert floor. All could see that he was dead. His eyes stared up at them, lifeless.

When they grabbed hold of Alf a groan escaped his lips.

"Did you hear that?" Bert asked "'Ere this one's still alive."

"Get him out quickly," Rushton ordered.

They lay Alf next to Kleber.

"Check his injuries."

Alf lay on his back, his head was pounding. His eyes were rolling from side to side. He tried to focus them as faces appeared above him. They were talking foreign, it sounded foreign, no wait! It could be English but their words were slow and distorted.

"Give him some water."

Doyle did as the Major ordered. He took his own water bottle and held it to Alf's lips. The water trickled into Alf's mouth. At first he swallowed the flow, then as he couldn't keep up he gagged on it, coughing it back up. Doyle reached into Alf's shirt and pulled the dog tags out to inspect.

"Alfred Dennis Royal Engineers," Doyle looked up at Rushton.

"This one's alive also," Bert and Doug pulled Johnny Larder out. Though unconscious his chest heaved up and down. Rushton picked up the telephone receiver in his Jeep.

"Get a medical orderly over here now."

He watched the other vehicles far away and he saw Corporal Luke Downing jump into action, get behind the wheel and swing the Jeep around and head towards him. It only took Downing a few minutes to reach them. He pulled up, jumped out of the drivers seat, walked round to the passenger side and took his medical kit from the passenger seat. He saluted Rushton smartly.

"Never mind all that," Rushton spoke "These two men here urgently need your attention. Begin with the unconscious one. We'll keep a watch on this one. The other one is dead."

Downing got down onto his knees next to Larder. He put his fingers on Johnny's wrist and counted his pulse. He then placed his ear on Johnny's chest and listened to his breathing. He opened Johnny's shirt and felt all around the chest and abdomen. He opened the eyes and looked into them. Then he checked over the fresh scarring on Larder's face and neck.

"Private John Larder Royal Engineers," Doyle said taking Johnny's dog tags from around his neck.

Rushton looked from the two Englishmen, to the German, to the plane.

"What the hell's going on Sir?" Doyle asked his Major.

"I don't know. But I intend to find out. How are you doing Corporal?"

Downing had moved on to Alf.

"That one seems well. I think he has a concussion. I won't know until he comes round Sir. We'll have to keep him like that," Downing turned back to Alf "Now then chum let's have a look at you."

Alf looked at the man staring down at him. He couldn't understand the words being said so he focused on the mouth. He tried to lip read but most of what was being said to him was lost. His head was killing him and he reached up with a shaky hand to touch it. He regretted it instantly. Pain shot down one side of his neck. Gently Alf let his arm fall back down. There was now a terrific ringing in his ears. He once again focused on the mouth in front of him. He still couldn't understand the words. Downing smiled at him and Alf tried a weak smile back. He now knew he was in the company of friends. Downing continued his examination. He opened Alf's shirt and whistled.

"Sir this man has been shot recently," Downing showed them the healed bullet wound.

To Downing's concern Alf's eyes closed. He quickly checked the breathing and pulse.

"Is he dead?" Rushton asked.

"No just sleeping. He's had a big knock to the head. It will make him want to sleep."

"Can we move him?"

"Yes I don't see why not. I don't think his injuries are life threatening. Looking at this wound I'd say we've got a fighter here."

"Thank you Corporal. Just keep him alive long enough for me to talk to him."

"Sir the other one's coming round."

Johnny lay on his back blinking his eyes. He started to sit up and was helped. Rushton stood directly in front of him.

"Can you hear me?"

"Yes," Johnny nodded.

"Are you able to stand?"

"Yes I think so."

"Help him up."

Hands helped Johnny to his feet.

"It says on your dog tags that your name is Private John Larder of the Royal Engineers. Is that correct?"

"Yes," Johnny said rubbing the back of his neck.

"I am Major John Rushton of the Long Range Desert Group. This is Sergeant Doyle."

"Sir," Johnny tried to salute, swayed and almost fell.

"That's all right Private there is no need to salute. Who is the other fellow with you?"

"Sergeant Alfred Dennis Royal Engineers Sir."

"Who is your commanding officer?"

"Colonel Harold Sharp Sir."

Johnny looked across at Alf, his eyes widened.

"Is he going to be all right?"

"He's fine. Just got the stuffing knocked out of him. You've had a very bad crash. The other fellow with you is dead. Can you tell me anything about him?"

Johnny's throat was dry.

"Could I have some water please Sir."

A bottle was offered. Johnny took a long swig. He wiped his hand across the back of his mouth.

"Thank you."

"Private. Johnny. If I may call you that."

"Of course Sir."

"My name is also John. You may call me it when answering or don't call me anything for the moment. You don't need to answer every question with Sir," Rushton smiled "Understood."

"Yes Sir. Sorry Sir."

"Now try and think clearly about what has happened. I know you've had a bump to your head."

"My head hurts like hell Sir. Sorry didn't mean to call you Sir."

"That's all right. We'll get you something for your headache in a moment. Now Johnny about the other chap."

"He's a German," Larder looked at Kleber "Is he dead?"

Rushton nodded. Larder looked into Rushtons eyes."

Rushton shook his head.

"No. He was dead when we found him. We are not in the habit of murdering people Private!"

"No of course not Sir. I meant no offence."

"None taken. Now about the German."

"His name is Gottfried Kleber. It was his plane. He is the pilot."

"What were the two of you doing flying in a German aeroplane with a German pilot?"

"I think I'm going to be sick."

Johnny leaned over and vomited in the sand. He felt terrible.

"I'm sorry."

Downing helped clean Larders face.

"Sir I really think he needs to rest. If this could wait a while."

Despite Rushton's burning to continue the interrogation he reluctantly agreed.

"Very well," he said desperately wanting to continue "Very well give him a shot to help him sleep."

Downing prepared a syringe.

"Here this will help you sleep."

"Johnny please answer the question."

"Which one sir?"

"What were you doing in the plane?"

"That's easy Sir. We stole it."

"What! Stole it? Stole it from where? How?"

Johnny's eyes were starting to close. He couldn't keep them open. When he tried to answer his words were slurred.

"Damn it!"

"He won't be of much use to you for a few hours now sir."

"Damn I need answers," Rushton puffed out his chest and then exhaled loudly.

"Very well. Load and strap them in the back of a Jeep. We'll move back to our base."

"Aye Sir. Simmonds, Thomas, Potts, you heard the man. Let's get them loaded and ready to move."

"Sir. They all jumped into action. Eager to please their Major."

"What about him?" Doyle asked jerking his thumb at Kleber.

"Get a shovel."

Rushton got back into his Jeep. Doyle saluted and Rushton sped off alone. Bert waited until the Major was safely away.

"We have to bury him sir?"