Cromwell scanned the sky. 'No traffic.'
'Ring the bell,' Foulois said easily. Cromwell pressed the button that provided a final warning to their passengers to secure their seat belts. Foulois flew the Ford down the approach as if it were on a railway. In the calm and cool night air the Ford seem to float more than fly. The wheels feathered on without even a rubbery squeak. He let her roll, and picked up the truck with the lighted follow me sign. They taxied past rows of hangars and shops. Airplanes were lined up in all directions, a mixture of fighters, transports, bombers, trainers, and some civilian craft. The truck stopped, and a man jumped down and signaled the Ford pilot to cut the power.
Moments later the only sounds from the trimotor were those of heated metal cooling off in a cricketlike singsong of snaps and crackles. A small blue bus came from around the side of a hangar and stopped by the Ford. An officer waited until Indy and his group climbed down to the tarmac. He studied them for a moment and clearly identified Indy.
He walked up to him and snapped a salute. 'Professor Jones, good to see you again.' They shook hands. 'With your permission, my men will bring your equipment and luggage.'
Indy nodded and turned to Tarkiz. 'Go with them. You know what to bring.'
The big man nodded and climbed back into the Ford. Soon their belongings and other gear had been shifted to the bus.
Indy's group gathered about him, and he introduced Henshaw. 'You have your orders about our plane?' Indy asked the colonel.
'Yes, sir.' A smile played briefly across Henshaw's face. 'It is to be made invisible.'
Tarkiz turned to Gale Parker with a grimace. 'So! Like I said, he is crazy, and this colonel, I think he is crazy, too!
They are going to make our machine invisible! Poof! We will be like the sky.
Not even the birds will see us.'
Indy nodded with Tarkiz's outburst. 'For a while, my friend, at least for a while.'
Cromwell moved forward to the colonel. 'If you don't mind, I must insist on being with our aeroplane if there is to be any fueling or servicing.'
Henshaw studied the British pilot. 'Cromwell, right? Don't you think we can take care of your machine properly?'
There was just a touch of sarcasm in his reply.
He didn't make a ripple on Cromwell, who moved up to go nose to nose with the American officer. 'Quite frankly, Colonel, I do not. We fly this machine. If your people mess it up and we discover their hammy hands while we are at ten thousand feet or so, I don't believe it takes much imagination for you to judge who will pay the piper.' Cromwell turned to Indy. 'I insist. I myself, or Foulois, must be with the aircraft for any work or servicing.'
Indy turned to Henshaw. 'They call the shots with the plane, Colonel.'
'No offense taken, sir,' Henshaw said to Indy, directing his gaze to Cromwell. 'I only wish this same attitude prevailed among all my men. You have my word, Mr.—'
'Brigadier, if you don't mind?' Cromwell said icily.
'Of course, sir.' He gestured to the group. 'The bus, please.'
As they climbed aboard Tarkiz nudged Indy. 'It is maybe a bother, Indiana, but my stomach will no longer keep silent. I must eat soon or perish.'
'With that spread of yours, Tarkiz,' Foulois quipped, 'you could last as long without food as a camel could without water.'
'Skinny people always make stupid remarks,' Tarkiz answered goodnaturedly. 'But I do not want to talk. I want to eat. One more cold frankfurter and—'
'It's all taken care of, sir. Just a few more minutes,' said the bartender.
The bus rolled through the sprawling base, then stopped before a high barricade of concrete posts and triple rolls of barbed wire. Signs reading restricted area and authorized personnel ONLY were all about the place.
Guards removed the entry barrier, saluting Henshaw as they went through.
Before them was another great hangar.
Army guards rolled back huge sliding doors and the bus drove inside. The doors closed behind it, and with the muffled thump of the doors coming together bright lights snapped on above it.
The group looked about them with interest. Within the great hangar was what seemed to be part of a small village: cottages, stone office buildings, even a lawn with trees. 'This is home for the next couple of days,' Indy told his group. 'Colonel, I'll go with your men and make sure everybody's gear goes to their assigned rooms.'
He banged Tarkiz on the shoulder. 'You and the others go with that sergeant. Right to the dining room. They'll take your orders there. Anything you want.'
'Dining room? In here?'
'I thought you were starving to death.'
'You are right. My stomach knows my throat has been cut.' Tarkiz grasped the nearest sergeant's arm. 'You have ancestors? Ah, very good. Feed me, or you may meet your ancestors much sooner than you think.'
Indy refused answers to all questions after dinner, steering conversation to small talk about the events of the evening, leaving the others frustrated but respectful of his silence. That night they slept in comfortable beds, each within a fully furnished room. There were books and radio facilities in each room, as well as a telephone, but all calls had to be processed through a military security switchboard.
Gale Parker had already learned that Indy's strange aloofness was his means of waiting for information from the outside world, or for the arrival of key people involved in their sometimes baffling machinations. Gale was learning the man. She was still confused by his methods, but tremendously impressed with the swift execution of plans he had drawn with meticulous attention. She felt more and more drawn to him, and was caught by surprise at
