The bus stopped a hundred feet before the huge hangar where the Ford Trimotor had been kept for the night. As they walked before the bus, Henshaw motioned for them to stop. 'If you would indulge me for the moment, please? Wait here while they open the hangar doors.'
He turned and gave a hand signal to the hangar crew. An electric motor hummed loudly and the huge sliding doors began to move right and left until the interior of the entire hangar was exposed to them.
Except for Indy, who had known all along what would happen during the night, the group stared in confusion.
Suddenly Gale Parker burst into laughter. 'By God, he's done it!' she exclaimed, clapping her hands.
'But . . . but . . . which one is our aeroplane?' Cromwell said, squinting to make out details.
Henshaw enjoyed the moment immensely. 'You tell me, Col—sorry; Brigadier.
Point out your airplane.'
They stared at six Ford Trimotors in the hangar, every one of them painted in army numbers and markings. With the exception of different identifying serial numbers, every airplane was exactly like the others. It was impossible to distinguish the trimotor in which they landed here the night before.
Tarkiz clapped Henshaw approvingly on the shoulder. 'Colonel, I take off my hat to you.' He looked to Cromwell and Foulois. 'He has done it. We can see our airplane, but we cannot because we do not know which one it is.
Wonderful!'
'The news of the train robbery last night,' Colonel Henshaw said to the group, 'is all over the papers and is being broadcast on every radio station in the country.
What amazes everyone is how it was carried out, and that nobody was killed or even hurt. The missing gold statues, and something about an ancient small pyramid, are headlines everywhere. And there are reports that a large airplane was involved. The crew of a public works department was arrested last night and questioned for hours, but they were all released early this morning. Seems they had an engine being replaced and their machine was unflyable.
So,' he said with a smile, 'it seemed rather inappropriate to have anything with a public works logo splashed on its sides on this field. Anyone who comes here—and we expect questions and likely some visitors from the media—is welcome to stand just about where you are and do all the looking they want.'
Henshaw turned and pointed to the east. 'In fact, there's a U.S. Marines Ford on a long approach to this field right now. This afternoon, a Navy Ford will also be landing here for some special tests. Your airplane, as far as the world knows, simply never existed.'
They started walking toward the hangar. 'Colonel,' Cromwell said quickly, 'my request last night about servicing?
Did—'
'No one has touched your machine except for the new markings,' Henshaw anticipated the query. 'When you're ready for servicing and the equipment changes Professor Jones has specified, you, and whoever else works on the machine, will be provided army coveralls and the proper identification so that you will appear just like the other mechanics and technicians who work here.'
Not until Cromwell and Foulois were able to run their hands over the different airplanes could they detect the trimotor with the belly hatch. And that didn't help too much, for three other Fords had the same.
'Marvelous,' Gale Parker said for them all.
Gale Parker sat with Indy in the group's private dining room—an army mess facility with extra trimmings— within the sealed hangar. Cromwell, Foulois, and Belem were hard at work on the airplane with a group of army mechanics and technicians.
Their work would require several days of special attention, and Indy planned to use that time setting up systems of communication between his team and headquarters.
Gale toyed with her coffee mug. 'Mind if I ask some questions, Indy?'
Like the others, he and Gale wore mechanics' coveralls. They were much less likely to draw attention with shapeless, almost baggy outerwear.
'Go ahead,' he said. 'The others will be along shortly. They won't be needed for the engine changes.'
'You're changing engines?' she asked with open surprise. 'They sounded fine to me.'
'Nothing wrong with the engines. But with what we may be doing and where we'll be flying, I want some specials.
Our airplane has standard Pratt and Whitney radials. We get just about thirteen hundred horsepower from them. But the army has some changes hardly anyone knows about. Pratt and Whitney sent a bunch of their modified Wasp engines down here for us. The whole idea is to convert horsepower to thrust. We won't be much faster than we are now, but we'll more than double the rate of climb we can get from the Ford. And we'll be able to accommodate the special longrange tanks that are being installed so we can fly at least fifteen hundred miles without refueling.
More, when they finish the installation for tanks we can hang beneath the wings.
We'll need all that power when we're fully loaded just to get off the ground.'
She sat in silence, caught by surprise with his words. He finished his coffee.
'Also, with the new power packages, we'll be able to land and take off from really small fields. Oh, yes, balloon tires also, for rough field operation.'
'Indy, you amaze me! I didn't know you were a pilot!'
He rolled the cigar between his fingers. 'I'm not. I've always wanted to be, but every time I started taking lessons I either got buried in my teaching classes, or I was off in the hills, or the jungle, or the desert—'
'I know,' she broke in.
'Well, I just never had the opportunity.' He looked wistful. 'One day, perhaps. I really should learn.'
