Lieutenant Mackey, and those five other poor fellas that came in the other day on the ‘Buzzard’ have any experience at all in P-40s, and honestly, a couple of them have no business flying anything for a long time. The guys are wrecks, and not just physically. Karen says they shouldn’t ever fly again! Those damn Japs
…” He stopped. “Doesn’t matter, anyway, I have to let the guys here have an equal shot, after all the work they’ve done.”
“What about the ground crews?” Sister Audry asked. “Some enlisted men have also arrived from Maa-ni-la, yes?”
Pete was just as surprised to hear her speak as he’d been when Pam had.
“Yeah, they’re doing okay, I guess. Sergeant Dixon, the one who showed up with Mackey, is a lot better now, and he’s pretty much become the senior crew chief around here. He makes the new guys take it easy. Dixon’s a gem. I don’t know if we could’ve done it without him. All the planes came with instructions and I’d seen them put together before, but he’d actually done it.”
“Where is he now?” Adar asked.
“Couple hangars over, doing the same as me and Soupy and these other guys.” He patted the Curtiss green wing behind him. “About a thousand little ‘final touches.’ All the planes are together that are going to be, and thanks to the Corps of Engineer-’Cats Brister loaned me, we’ve got roofs over every one. But we’ve still got to finish checking out the hydraulic systems, which we were just doing here, and make sure all the connections are tight on the Prestone tanks, fill ’em up-and do the same for the oil tanks and Prestone and oil radiators, rec thhe batteries, gauges, triple -check the connections on all three fuel tanks.” He wiped his brow with his rag and grinned at Pam Cross. Gosh, she really is pretty, looking at me like that! he thought. Too bad she’s so stuck on that maniac Silva… or is she? He blinked and looked at the others. “After that, we’ll finally put the props on and do a preliminary run-up on the engines-we just got fuel a couple days ago.” He stopped and looked at Isak Rueben. He knew the scruffy little guy was nuts; all the “Mice” were. He’d never forget watching them chain-smoke cigarettes, covered with oil from head to foot…
“That reminds me. We have a problem with condensation in the fuel tanks. Too much humidity and heat, I guess.”
Isak realized Ben was talking to him. “Uh, just hafta keep them tanks empty-er maybe plumb, brimmin’ full, is all. Nothin’ else for it. Drain off the damn water before you fill ’em… sir.”
“Then you gonna fly?” Pam pressed.
“No. After we run up the engines, we’ll double-check everything again, retighten any bolts we missed, or might’ve wiggled loose, and then we’ll slow-time the engines…”
“And fly?”
Ben grinned again. “Yes, ma’am. Then I’m going to fly each one of these beautiful crates myself!”
“Ha!” Pam yapped excitedly.
Sister Audry looked at the girl and smiled. Pam was an adventurous girl, a “free spirit,” and she’d been concerned about her these last weeks since Dennis Silva didn’t return. She’d been morose, uncommunicative. She was glad she’d suggested they come out to the field that day. Besides, she’d wanted to check on “the boys” who’d been through so much.
“By the Heavens,” Adar murmured. “So many things yet to do! These P-40s are as complicated as any ship! And a single person will control them?”
“Yes, sir,” Ben replied. “That’s why we have to be very careful-and even then, no matter what we do, there’re going to be crack-ups.” He grimaced. “We’re going to lose some planes, just in training, like we’ve lost some Nan… PB-1s. We’re going to lose guys too.”
Adar gazed at the plane. “It is magnificent,” he said at last, “but I remain… uncertain that it-and the others-will be worth the time, effort, and blood that went into retrieving them and finally getting them into the air.” He looked at Ben. “I know you disagree and I yearn to be amazed, to be wrong, but consider this: had all that has gone into these craft been applied to other things, more ‘Naan-sees,’ better, different planes we can build ourselves…” He blinked concern. “You yourself have said we cannot build others like these for some years, perhaps many. I fear the greatest weapon that ever was is of no use when it is spent.”
Ben stiffened. “Would you have said the same about Walker?”
Adar looked at him sharply. “Of course not, but there’s a difference. Walker has already saved our people many times. These craft of yours have as yet only cost us lives. Also, though we may be years away from building ships like Walker, we are not many years away. We need weapons now, and in the foreseeable future, that will carry us to victory against the Grik and our other enemies as well. Honestly, I fear… growing to rely on such complicated, potentially… transient advantages as these lovely aar-craaft, only to finand thgone, used up, when we need them most.”
Sister Audry frowned. “My dear Adar,” she said, “I was not here during the terrible battle in the nearby bay, but I believe Colonel Mallory was.”
Adar recoiled as if he’d been slapped. The old, battered PBY that Ben flew literally to pieces had probably done more, strategically, to save them than Walker had. Without it, they would’ve never known about Amagi and the Grand Swarm until it was much too late.
Ben’s jaw was hard when he spoke through tight lips. “Soupy, which ship is farthest along?”
Soupy’s eyes were wide. “‘M’ ship, a’course.”
“Get Lieutenant Mackey and Sergeant Dixon. Ask them to bring their whole detail.”
“What are you going to do, Colonel?” Bernie asked.
Ben looked at Pam, then back at the Acting Minister of Ordnance. “I’m going to fly, Mr. Sandison.”
“This is ridiculous!” Adar insisted loudly over the sound of the rumbling engine. It had been running for an hour now, slowly taken and held through various rpm ranges and Mackey, in the cockpit, held out his fist, thumb upward. “I have already apologized as sincerely as I know how!”
“This isn’t about that, Mr. Chairman,” Ben said. “Not really. Sure, I was sore for a minute; then I realized you were right. It’s time for you to look in the poke and see what you bought.”
“She’s already run longer than half the ships we sent up against the Japs in the Philippines!” Dixon yelled beside Ben, handing him a parachute. Ben considered the bulky pack for a moment, then shrugged into it. He’d need it to sit on if nothing else, and he wasn’t going over the water. He had no plans of bailing out, short of the wings coming off. Even if the engine quit, he’d get the plane back on the ground in one piece-or die trying. “Just watch your mix, with this weird gas,” Dixon added, “and don’t take her too high!”
“Guns?”
“She’s got two on board, just like you said. They will fire! I cleaned’em, tuned ’em, and bore-sighted ’em myself… You’re up on those hydraulic chargers?” Ben nodded, and Dixon shrugged. “They won’t be dead-on, but they’ll put on a show. Soupy sent to clear everybody away from that banged-up barge down by the ‘Nancy’ hangars. Blow the hell outta that an’ that’ll show ’em!”
Ben gulped a cup of water somebody handed him and pulled on a pair of flight goggles, settling them on his forehead. With a nod at the gathered spectators, he ran to replace Mackey in the cockpit of the plane.
Mackey had throttled back to a rumbling idle and stepped out on the wing root. “Sure you don’t want me to do it, Colonel?” he yelled with a grin. “I did zap three Zeros, you know!”
“Not on your life, Mack,” Ben yelled back, slapping his shoulder. “No Zeros up there today. I’m only going to wring her out a little.”
“Just don’t wring her out too much!”
Adar watched anxiously with the others. He couldn’t help but feel as if he’d forced Ben to do something he and the plane weren’t yet ready for-and he deeply regretted his earlier insinuations. Ben was in the cockpit now, under the bright afternoon sun, and Lieutenant Mackey had trotted past those who were watchig, which, by now, probably included every aviator and ground crewman in Baalkpan. Adar saw Mackey disappear into one of the hangars. Quickly, Ben put all the control surfaces through exaggerated motions, released the brakes, and gunned the engine. Immediately, the green and gray plane accelerated from a standing stop into what struck Adar as a foolhardy speed as it taxied away from the hangars, the tail twitching in short, erratic motions, and headed for the north end of the runway, a light, white dust cloud billowing after it. As the plane drew farther away, Adar was surprised by how rapidly the engine noise diminished.
“This is foolishness,” he proclaimed aside to Perry Brister, but Perry shook his head.
