Up she went and Stan set himself against the “high G’s” he had to expect. First, as he started up, there was a blurring of vision, then a graying, and then a momentary blackout. Instantly the graying appeared before his eyes again, then the blurring, and a moment later clear vision. Stan whistled softly.
“Some ship!” he muttered. “She makes anything I ever flew except the old Lightnings look slow.”
Three Messerschmitts knifed down from a cloud, but the Mosquito was on her way under full throttle and leaving the toe of the Italian boot at a space-devouring pace. The Me pilots saw what they had picked up and slid off in disgust.
The Mosquito went up so fast that Stan could not see the results of his attack upon the train. Heading east he caught sight of the bay of Taranto, then turned north. Flying on the east rim of a mountain ridge he bored along.
Checking the miles off as best he could, Stan turned west when he thought he was opposite Naples. He zoomed up higher and higher until he spotted the city on the coast, then he eased around and ducked back and up into a layer of clouds. Darkness had not settled, but he figured he could slide in back of the ridge above the Bolero villa and spot the hidden landing strip.
Easing down he clipped along the tops of the trees. Three Focke-Wulf 190 fighters spotted him and he made off, leaving them to wander above the hill country. Returning, he zoomed along the ridge. Back and forth he slid but failed to locate the strip. Again he was spotted and had to run for it. The next time he came back he flew along the top of the ridge, which caused no less than a dozen Jerry fighters to take after him. But he spotted the hidden strip before he made off.
Dusk was beginning to settle when he came back. This time he had to land regardless of the fighter planes. He came in straight for the strip, flying so low he was below the trees in many spots. He was surprised to find that there was a natural avenue which allowed him to slide in under fair cover. The Bolero boys had selected their secret field well. One Me darted over to have a look, but did not dive down. Stan set himself and cut his engines. He was coming in now, either for a landing or a crash. Topping a row of small trees he let the Mosquito settle toward the grassy lane below.
The wheels of the ship tipped the grass, then settled down solidly. Stan applied his brakes and eased into a smooth and even landing. As he rolled in, he spotted the big trees with overhanging branches where the Nardi fighters had been parked. Gunning the Mosquito a bit he slid under cover just as three Me’s roared past looking for him. They went on to the east, but came back to crisscross the ridge. Stan smiled. The German pilots seemed puzzled over the way a bomber had vanished into thin air.
Swinging the Mosquito around under her own power he set her in position for a quick take-off, then began getting out his pack of rations and the light machine gun he had brought with him. He was eager to work his way down the bridle path before darkness settled completely.
CHAPTER XI
RESCUE
Stan kept under cover until he located the bridle path leading over the ridge. The Me’s were still combing the ridge above, but the woods and the meadows were full of long shadows which made spotting a camouflaged object impossible.
Moving down the path Stan kept a sharp watch for guards. The pathway was really a tunnel under the trees. Overlapping branches formed a natural roof. This cover made the path almost pitch-dark. But Stan moved swiftly. He wanted enough light to spot the prison where the boys were being held.
Reaching the opening in the hedge he discovered that someone had moved the branches of the hedge row so that they entwined over the opening hiding it. Standing behind the hedge he listened. Judging by the sounds, there was plenty of activity in the camp, and Stan could see lights shining through the wall of leaves. A motorcycle roared and a truck motor joined it. Men’s voices could be heard clearly.
Moving along the hedge Stan peered over it. He could see into the wide yard of the villa and also into the yards around the barns. Every building was lighted up and the place swarmed with Germans. Stan had never seen so many German officers in a single spot before. Groups of them sat around outdoor tables in the back yard of the villa. They were eating and drinking wine from the Bolero cellars. There was a lot of shouting and laughter.
Stan turned to the barns. He moved along them until he could see the back yard of the big barn. Here there were a number of smaller sheds and barns as well as the kennels. All of them were lighted and so were the yards around them. Guards marched back and forth in front of the kennels and before three of the sheds. Stan was certain he had located the prisons, but there was no way of telling which one contained his pals. One thing was certain, the Germans felt safe here at Bolero Villa. They probably figured Allied bombers would think the place was Italian and leave it alone. The many trees hid the trucks, cars, and German soldiers from view. Stan grinned. When he got back, the bomber boys would know where to drop a stick of bombs.
This condition made it easy for Stan to observe because the guards figured their only job was to keep the prisoners from escaping. They were not worried about an attack. Moving around behind the kennels Stan found darkness. He managed to wiggle up to the back wall. There were no windows in the back of the shed. He checked the other guarded sheds and found no windows in the rear of them. Moving back to the hedge he crouched there watching the three buildings.
The only way to get into any of those buildings was through the doors or one of the front windows. The windows were open and not barred, but at least a dozen guards patrolled the grounds. They were scattered out, making a blitz machine-gun attack difficult. By the time Stan had blasted the guards out of the way he would have several hundred officers and men attacking from the grounds below.
A soldier approached one of the guards, spoke to him, then entered one of the buildings, a shed between the kennels and the third barn. A light flashed on and Stan could see men inside the building. They were packed in, standing close together, those he could see through the window. All of them were Italian soldiers.
After a bit the soldier came out with an Italian officer walking ahead of him. They went directly to the grounds below. Stan eased along the hedge until he was opposite the kennels. Here he halted and parted the branches of the hedge. He listened intently. The prisoners in the kennels were talking but their voices were very low. One of them laughed and the guard at the door shouted an order in German. With the butt of his rifle he hammered against the sill. There was silence inside and then a voice called out:
“Get away from that door, ye dirty spalpeen! Yer disturbin’ the pleasure o’ gentlemen!”
Stan almost shouted. That was the voice of O’Malley. The guard beat harder upon the sill of the door and shouted louder. Stan heard Allison warning O’Malley to keep his mouth shut. Silence settled inside the building.
Pulling out his sheath knife Stan began cutting a hole in the hedge. The hedge had been carefully tended by the Bolero gardener. The limbs of the shrubs had been entwined and laced together, making the hedge almost a solid wall. Stan cut away a large hole, leaving only a few branches over the inside to hide his work. Getting down he crawled into the opening.
The guard was standing facing the spot where Stan was crouching. A floodlight in the yard made the whole place as light as day. Stan watched the other guards as they moved about. Under a tree at the entrance to the yard a heavy machine gun had been planted. A crew of three men manned the gun. It was set to cover the three jails and the whole yard.
The situation looked hopeless. With so much light an attack could not be engineered. Suddenly Stan’s lips pulled into a straight line. He had a bright thought. The yards and grounds had never been lighted up so completely by the Bolero family. That meant the Germans had strung a lot of wire. If he could locate the main line and cut it, he could plunge the place in darkness long enough to break into the shed where his pals were being held.
After studying the yard and the lighting, Stan decided the wires came in from the big barn. Working his way around the sheds he came to a spot where a wide and well-lighted roadway separated them from the big barn. Four Germans guarded the road and they were well spaced. Again he was blocked.
Then he noticed that a set of heavy wires came down from somewhere in the darkness to the corner of the big barn. They swung in from high above his head. Stan grinned. The electricity for the whole villa came in from behind the barns. It was like General Bolero to have unsightly power poles at the back of his estate. Stan turned
