A Yankee Flier in Italy Part 19

"We have done it many times," Tony said, laughing.

Arno was gone only a few minutes. When he returned he explained:

"First we roll the ship out from under the trees by hand if we can."

"That will be easy. There is a downgrade and the Mosquito is light weight," Stan said.

"Then we get the engines warm enough to take off." Arno paused.

"That will take a little time. We may have to stand off the Germans,"

Stan said.

"When the engines are hot I will place two blue flares with a red one in the middle for a target. It is so easy. You head for the red flare and take off before you get to it."

"Good work. You have the flares?" Allison asked.

"We keep a supply here," Arno said. "I will place them. When you shout to me that the engines are ready, I will light them. Then I come running and we take off."

"'Tis very simple," O'Malley said eagerly. "Sure, an' we better get her rolled out."

The boys got hold of the Mosquito and rolled her out. Arno made off to set his flares. Before the boys piled in, Stan handed his tommy-gun to Allison. "You're an artist with this sort of banjo. You stay on the ground. If any German squads show up, you chase them back into the woods."

"Good idea, old boy," Allison said as he took the gun.

Stan went up and wound up the radial motors. They coughed and sputtered but finally took hold, first with a rumbling gallop that was uneven, then with a smoother roar. The sound of those powerful radials shook the night air. Stan knew their full-throated exhausts could be heard by the Germans.

Flashes of light winked in the woods below, Stan judged that the German squads were not over two hundred yards down the slope. Some might be even farther up the hill. He tested the engines with a jerk of the throttle. They bogged down and sputtered, too cold to take off.

Suddenly rifle fire broke out across the open meadow. The Germans were firing at the flaring exhaust flames from the Mosquito's engines.

Bullets whistled past the ship. Allison opened up and the firing from the woods ceased. Suddenly a machine gun began to blast. Its bullets ripped into the ship and around it. Stan gunned the engines and they caught, bursting into a perfect and unbroken stream of power.

On the ground Allison could tell by the sound of the engines that the ship was ready. He began shouting to Arno. Stan throttled down to allow Allison's shouts to carry.

Suddenly a flare blossomed. A few minutes later another flamed. Stan waited impatiently for what seemed a long time. He could tell by the stabs of flame from the rifles across the meadow that the Germans were charging down upon Arno. Then the red flare burst into flame. Stan fixed the spot in his mind, just in case a German got to the flare and put it out. Allison was blistering the Germans rushing down upon Arno, but the distance was too great for a tommy-gun.

Stan kicked the motors on, setting his brakes hard. The attackers were now fanned out and charging across the meadow. Allison could not halt them because they had spread out thinly over a wide front.

"Should we leave Arno?" Tony asked. "He would want more than anything else that you men got away."

"We're not leavin' him!" O'Malley shouted. "I'll get down an' go help him. He may have been hit by a bullet."

"No, we won't leave him," Stan agreed grimly.

Suddenly Allison climbed up. "They'll be on us in a minute!" he shouted.

"Here comes the boy!" O'Malley bellowed.

Arno's head appeared in the circle of light from the instrument panel.

Allison gave him a hand, dragging him into the c.o.c.kpit.

Before the trap could be closed Stan gave the Mosquito her head. She shot away like an arrow released from a bow as her brakes eased free.

Straight at the stabbing tongues of rifle fire she roared. The firing ceased as the Germans leaped frantically out of the path of the charging bomber.

Stan held her straight for the red flare. Long before they reached it he hoiked her tail and bounced her off. She went up like a kite caught by a gale. O'Malley, sitting beside Stan, looked over and grinned.

"That was sweet!" he shouted.

"You haven't seen anything yet!" Stan shouted back. He leaned toward O'Malley, "Have Allison get the radio set working."

A few minutes later Allison had established long-range communications with the base at Messina and was reporting in. O'Malley went back to put in an order for three huckleberry pies and a steak. Arno took his place.

Stan was letting the Mosquito cruise along. He leaned toward Arno.

"What about the general?"

"The Germans have him. He is a prisoner at Naples," Arno said in a worried voice.

"We'll take care of that. We're taking Naples very soon," Stan a.s.sured him.

"I'm afraid that may not help much. The Germans are in a fury over the action we have taken. They will take revenge not only upon Father, but upon the people of Naples and of every city they have occupied." Arno looked straight ahead into the night.

"We'll figure out something," Stan said grimly.

O'Malley came forward and sat back of Stan. Stan called over his shoulder.

"I am to deliver you fellows to Colonel Benson."

"Colonel Benson!" O'Malley yelped. "Sure an' that means we'll spend the rest o' the war in the guardhouse!"

"That's the safest place for you," Stan retorted.

Allison called forward over the intercommunication phone that the colonel sent his regards and that he had personally ordered O'Malley's pies and steak for him. O'Malley listened in. He began to grin.

"Sure, an' mebby the old bra.s.s hat has some feelin's after all."

"Don't build up any false hopes," Stan warned.

"Did he send you after us?" O'Malley demanded.

"He did," Stan said.

O'Malley leaned back and licked his lips. He closed his eyes so as to be better able to get a mental picture of the pies awaiting him.

Stan eased down a bit and called to Allison for a check on their location and course. Everything looked fine and fair, but Stan knew that it was at such times that trouble usually popped.

Messina was easily located as they came in at low alt.i.tude because the Yank and British batteries on the island were sh.e.l.ling the German-held port of Reggio across the two-mile strait. Flares were blossoming along the mainland, dropped by Yank fliers. Allison got in touch with their field and they came in. The air traffic was heavy and the field was a beehive of activity. No special attention was given the De Havilland except by the crew a.s.signed to take her over. They came racing out to make her fast.

The master mechanic grinned at Stan as he jumped down. "Good work, sir,"

he said eagerly. The Mosquito was his pet and he had worried about her all the time she was away. After finding out where she was going he had been sure she would never get back.