Chapter 75 Chapter 73

The dispatcher on the night shift at Le Bourget has been dozing off in front of the blank radar screen.And the officer from the police station Almost broke the door. "Where's Teabing's plane? Where did it go?" Bezu Fache walked quickly into the small tower and shouted loudly. The initial reaction of the dispatchers was to evade and evade with flimsy excuses in an attempt to protect their British customer - one of the airport's most respected customers - privacy.Yet his efforts failed mercilessly. "Fine," Fache said. "I'll arrest you now. How can you let a private jet fly without a request?" He gestured to the other officer, who immediately walked away in handcuffs. When he came over, the dispatcher couldn't help but get scared.He remembered some newspaper articles arguing whether the country's police officers were awe-inspiring heroes or terrifying nightmares, and now, at last, there was a clear answer to this question.

"Wait!" the dispatcher cried when he saw the handcuffs. "All I know is that Mr. Ray Teabing often flies to London for treatment. He has a hangar at Biggin Hill Airport in Kent, just outside London." Fache waved his hand and sent the man in handcuffs away: "Then will he go to Biggin Hill Airport tonight?" "I don't know," the dispatcher replied honestly. "The plane was flying under normal conditions. The last radar showed that it was in the UK. I said that he will go to Biggin Hill is just a very likely guess." "So did he let anyone else board the plane?"

"Sir, I swear, then I have no way of knowing. Our customers here can drive the plane directly to their own hangar, and they can take whatever they like. We don't care. As for investigating who is on the plane, yes The responsibility of the customs officials at the other airport.” Fache checked his watch, then stared out the window at the sporadic planes parked in front of the air terminal and said, "If they go to Biggin Hill, how long will it take to land?" The dispatcher flipped through the flight log in his hand and said, "The voyage is very short. The plane may have landed at around 6:30... Fifteen minutes from now."

Fache's brows were furrowed, and he turned to tell his subordinates, "Get me a plane. I'm going to London. Help me contact the police in Kent, not the Fifth Bureau of British Military Intelligence. This matter must be handled in a low-key manner. Remember, with the local police in Kent. You get them permission to land Teabing's plane, and then surround it on the airstrip. No one can get out of the plane until I'm there."