CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  _Dead Wings_

  For another fifteen minutes Dawson stuck to the course he was flying andbattled desperately with the problem of _which_ of the two bad choiceshe should make. One moment he was in favor of leading the Zeros as closeto Jackson's approximate position as he dared, and then jumping them andshooting them down. But in the next moment he would tell himself thatthat was like hoping for the moon on a silver platter. And what's more,it was a completely nutty idea for the very reason that neither Freddynor he knew the _exact_ location of Jackson's force. They could onlyfigure out approximately where it was. For that reason they might wellstumble on it by accident and the Japs sight it just as clearly as theydid. And if that should happen, and he should wheel around to shootthem down, they could indeed give him the horse laugh. They had only tobank around and open their throttles wide, and the MK-11 would nevercatch them in a hundred years.

  And so, with that decided, he would promptly consider the second badchoice. That of leading the Zeros in a direction that wouldn't even comeclose to the Yank aircraft carrier task force, and then sitting down inthe water when the fuel was used up. As a matter of fact, the Zeroswould be out of fuel long before then. So maybe the choice of leadingthe Zeros on a crazy wild goose chase out across the vast reaches of theSouthwest Pacific was a good one to make.

  "But, doggone it, no!" Dawson argued with himself. "Freddy and I knewsomething that can mean plenty to Colonel Welsh and Admiral Jackson. Andto the forces attacking Guadalcanal, too. We've just _got_ to get thatinformation through, somehow. And that's all there is to it, darn it!"

  Yes, that's all there was to it, darn it! Except for the one evertantalizing word. The word _how_. How to shake off the trailing JapZeros? How to find Jackson's task force, wherever it was? How to dothis? And how to do that? Dawson groaned in bitter anguish and pressedone clenched fist against his forehead, as though in so doing he mightforce open some little door in his brain, and find out all the correctanswers. It didn't work out that way, however. And then, eventually, hefelt Freddy Farmer tapping him on the shoulder and heard his pal's voicein his ear.

  "I say, Dave, old thing, I just thought of something. Maybe we can gothese beggars one better, in spite of them, and come out on top, youknow."

  Dawson twisted around in the seat, and made a little impatient gesture.

  "Then for cat's sake spill it!" he cried. "I've thought my brain ragged,but no soap. Have you really figured up an idea? Shoot it to me quick,pal."

  "It's a wild chance, Dave, but I think we've got to take it," theEnglish youth began. "First place, we can't lead these Zeros toJackson's force. Also, we just can't lead them any old place until werun out of fuel. That would simply be the end of us, and Admiral Jacksonwould be none the wiser, see?"

  "Of course I see!" Dawson growled as the English youth paused forbreath. "I figured all that out for myself years ago. So what? Have yougot anything better?"

  "I think so," Freddy came right back at him. "Port Moresby in NewGuinea, Dave. We still hold Port Moresby. There's a big air base there.And, of course, a radio station. If we can reach Port Moresby we can getthem to flash what information we know to Admiral Jackson. At least wecan give the alarm that Sasebo's force knows of the Guadalcanal attack,and will probably try to do something about it. That way, at least, theGuadalcanal forces won't be caught by surprise. Also they'll be on thealert in Northern Australia in case Sasebo does go all the way downthere. But the big point is, Dave, these Zeros back there couldn'tpossibly reach Port Moresby with the fuel they carry."

  Dawson thought that over for a moment or two. Then he nodded his headand grinned at Freddy.

  "Brains the guy really has got!" he cried. "Take a bow, Freddy. I thinkyou've hit the solution right on the old head. It'll be touch and gowhether even we can reach Port Moresby from here. But it's a cinch thoseZeros never will. Then, too, when they see us head south they may thinkwe're heading for Jackson's force, and figure that Jackson must be onpatrol off the New Guinea coast, which he isn't. Yup! Take a bow,Freddy. But it's going to be close. Plenty close. Just the same,though, there's another little thing in our favor. The time of day,Freddy!"

  "What's that?" the English-born air ace echoed, and looked puzzled.

  "The time of day, or I should say night," Dave told him, and jerked hishead westward. "In about an hour it's going to be plenty dark. If wehaven't shaken them off our tails by then, we can certainly do it in thedarkness. And who knows, maybe then we can change course again and findJackson sometime around dawn. There's nine hours gas in this air buggy,at least. So maybe everything will be okey-doke after all."

  "Well, anyway, turn south, Dave, and let's keep our fingers crossed,"Freddy Farmer grunted.

  Dave winked, gave Freddy the old two-finger V-for-victory sign, andbanked the MK-11 around until he was headed due south. True, hisnavigation depended only on the compass. And a Jap compass at that.However, he felt sure that if he kept on heading as he was going now hewould eventually hit some part of the New Guinea coast. And that wouldbe good enough. He'd find Port Morseby soon afterward, or--

  "Or bust a wing in the attempt!" he finished the thought grimly.

  And so, southward went the Mitsubishi MK-11. And southward, also,trailed the three Jap Zeros no more than two miles behind, and some fouror five thousand feet higher up in the air. And for an hour the pictureremained the same. There was nothing to be seen below but the rollingendless swells of that part of the Southwest Pacific. And in the air thethree Jap Zeros tagging doggedly along. Ten thousand times, at least,Dawson twisted around for a squint at those trailing Zeros. And tenthousand times, too, he glanced at the last glow of the sun's rays thattinted the western heavens, and at the shadows of night racing up out ofthe east.

  Soon, now, night would come with a rush as it always did in that part ofthe world. Soon darkness would be all about the MK-11, and he and FreddyFarmer could lose those trailing Zeros. Soon--

  But at that exact moment he heard Freddy's wild cry of alarm and feltthe English youth's fist thump down on his shoulder.

  "Here they come, Dave!" Freddy cried. "Here come the blighters, blastthem!"

  Dawson instantly twisted around in the seat, and just as quickly coldfear clutched at his heart. It was true enough. The three Zeros hadsuddenly speeded up. But, more than that, they were coming down in adive straight for the MK-11. One look at the way those Zeros were pilingdown and Dawson knew that one of two guesses was true. And possiblyboth. The Zero pilots had decided that the two youths planned to shakethem off in the darkness, after leading them astray. Or else theyfigured that the American carrier force was due south, and that theycould finish off their "unsuspecting victims" and use the rest of thegas in their tanks to get back to their own carrier. It was one or theother, and maybe both. But down they came, anyway, and a spell of cold,helpless fear was Dawson's.

  "Get set with your rear guns, Freddy!" he called out sharply. "I shouldhave figured this. Those rats are tired of playing around, and I've gota hunch they're going to do something about it. Something not so goodfor us."

  "I think so, too!" the English youth called back. "But let them try it,blast them. Frankly, I'm blessed well fed up with being tagged around.So let the blighters come. We'll fight them, if we have to. Jolly wellright, we'll fight them!"

  The words that poured from Freddy Farmer's lips were better than a tonicto Dawson. The cold fear left him at once, and instead he was filledwith a fierce determination. Right! Let those Zeros pile down and gettough. He, too, was fed up with being pushed and shoved and taggedaround. Doggone it, it seemed years since he had let fly with anybullets at the Japs. The last time had been as that Air TransportCommand plane was approaching the Australian coast from India. Heck,yes! Since then they hadn't done a darn thing for their country. On thecontrary, they'd been shot up, shot down, and kicked around by the Japs.So okay. If it was to be a scrap, then that would be fine, and nuts tothe odds against them!

  With a silent savage nod f
or emphasis, Dawson twisted around andsquinted at the Jap Zeros for the umpty-umpth time. They were downalmost on a level with the MK-11, and while two of them remained inwingtip to wingtip formation, the third Zero speeded up and came upabreast of the MK-11. Dawson stared at it narrow-eyed, ready toout-maneuver the Jap if he tried any smart stuff. And it was then he sawthe helmeted figure in the pit put his radio mike to his lips, andmotion with his free hand to Dawson to switch on his receiving set. Fora couple of split seconds the Yank air ace stared in amazement. Then hesnapped out of his trance and impulsively knocked up the switch of hisreceiving set in the front pit, and pulled the earphones down over hishead.

  For a brief instant or two he heard nothing but the hum of the setwarming up, and a little blast of static. And then he almost jumped outof the pit with surprise as he clearly heard the voice of the huge Japwho had been their "escort" back on the enemy carrier.

  "Turn around and come with us, please!" came the astonishing demand."Turn around at once, and return with us, please, or we will shoot youdown into the water. I am warning you. You cannot escape. Turn around,and come back with us at once, please!"

  Dawson turned around, right enough. His head, and _not_ the plane. Helooked at Freddy, wide-eyed.

  "Well, what do you know!" he cried. "And what a hope that guy has. Youheard him, Freddy?"

  The English youth nodded, and yanked his own headphones off.

  "Jolly well right, I heard the beggar!" he cried angrily. "And here'sour answer to him. Get set, Dave!"

  As Freddy shouted the last he grabbed his rear guns and fired a defiantburst straight over the wings of the Zero. He could very easily haveslammed that burst straight into the Zero, but that would have been Japstuff, and he couldn't bring himself to sink that low, regardless of theseriousness of the situation.

  "There's your answer, you dirty blighter!" he howled as the Jap pilotalmost turned his plane inside out in a frantic effort to get away."There's your answer, blast you!"

  The English youth shouted more things, but Dawson didn't wait to listenand admire. He had twisted back front and was sticking the MK-11 througha vicious half-roll to throw off the aim of the two Zero pilots behindflying wingtip formation. And it was the perfect maneuver in such acase, too. He did throw the two pilots off and caused them to open firea split second too late so that tracers from their guns cleared the topof the twisting MK-11 by several feet.

  "Catch them Freddy, catch them, kid!" Dawson bellowed as he hauled thewing screaming MK-11 up out of its mad dive. "Nail one of the tramps,and make it that much less uneven, kid!"

  Maybe the English youth heard, and maybe he didn't. Maybe he had thatidea all along. At any rate, his guns hammered out their chatteringnote, and Dawson saw one of the Zeros seem to stagger and stumble inthe air. By then he had brought the MK-11 around and up so that he couldbring his own guns to bear. He stabbed the electric trigger button, anda great shout of joy burst from his lips as the staggering Zero suddenlybecame a ball of fire that hung motionless in midair for a split secondand then fell down into the water, leaving behind a trail of oily blacksmoke.

  Neither Dave, nor Freddy Farmer, however, took time out to watch theZero flame downward to its finish. They still had a two to one fight ontheir hands, _and_ against two planes that could fly rings around theirMK-11. They had been lucky and had caught one of the Japs with his"flaps down," so to speak, but the other two were not going to be soeasy. As a matter of fact, it seemed to Dawson that he had hardlyslammed the death burst into that first Jap before one of the others waswheeling in at him broadside, despite the withering fire from FreddyFarmer's guns. The MK-11 shook and trembled as it was hit in a dozendifferent places. And suddenly Dawson felt as though he had been clippedin the chest by the tip of a spinning prop. Every bit of air was knockedout of his lungs, and black and red spots began to whirl and dancearound before his eyes. Then, suddenly, the spots disappeared, and savefor a dull ache in his chest he was all right again.

  All right? He laughed harshly as that thought flashed through his brain.All right? Sure, except for the minor detail that the two Jap Zeropilots were maneuvering about to "box" the MK-11 in a deadly and fatalcross-fire. Yes, sure, he was all okay save for that minor littledetail.

  "Give it to them, Dave! Don't let the blighters get away with it! Flytheir confounded wings off, blast them!"

  The words had come from Freddy's lips, but as far as Dave Dawson wasconcerned they were just a waste of breath. He was well aware of the twoZeros closing in for a cross-fire attack. And he was well aware of thefact that he'd have to just about fly the wings off the Zeros in orderto skip free of this air trap. As a matter of fact, the only thing hecould possibly do was to play a long shot; to take a one in a millionchance, and pray as he had never before prayed in his life. Take a longshot chance, and pray.

  "Hold tight, Freddy!" he shouted. "I'm going to twist this baby plenty.I--"

  He cut off the rest of what he was shouting because his chest was filledwith sharp pains again, and his lungs felt as though they werebreathing liquid fire. It suddenly seemed to take every ounce of hisstrength to move the control stick, and to kick on rudder. But somehowhe managed it, and he sent the MK-11 curving upward and around towardthe Zero on his left. And at the same time Freddy Farmer let fly withhis guns at the Zero on the right. Dawson's Jap saw him coming and,rather than chance the full fury of the Yank's fire, he pulled off andupward. In that same split second Dawson steeled himself to the effort,slammed the stick over, booted opposite rudder and brought the MK-11around and up in the opposite direction. In other words he cut off hisexpected attack on the first Zero to cut in up at the Zero on the otherside. As a result of that double maneuver, which was carried throughwith split-second accuracy, he not only broke up the two Zero planeattack, but forced each Jap pilot to careen upward and away.

  Too late the two Japs realized what was going to happen. Instead of bothcharging straight in on the MK-11, they both were streaking straight atone another! Both Japs saw that a midair crash was about to take place,and both frantically tried to swerve off into the clear. And perhapsthey might have succeeded if it hadn't been for the deadly aim of FreddyFarmer. The English youth's guns snarled out their song, and one of theJap pilots was stone dead before he could turn off into the clear. Andhis failure to do so spilled the beans for the other Jap. He couldn'tcheck his plane in time, and he flew straight into the other falteringZero.

  To Dawson's ears, and to Freddy Farmer's, came the loud crashing soundas the two high speed planes met about three hundred feet above theMK-11. And then the whole sky seemed to be filled with seething flame.Dawson cried out in impulsive alarm and slammed the nose of histwo-seater downward. Glancing back up over his shoulder, he saw the massof exploding flame that enveloped the two Zeros. Then there was even alouder explosion, and the air was filled with falling slivers of flame.Choking and gasping from the effort it caused him, Dawson hauled theMK-11 out of its mad dive at about wave crest height and flew, levelwhile red and black dots danced around before his eyes again, and dull,throbbing pain flowed through his chest.

  "Nice, Dave!" he heard Freddy Farmer calling to him. "That was the mostperfect maneuver I ever saw. Man! Did you fool those two beggars. It wasabsolutely wonderful."

  "I'll just take half the credit, kid!" Dawson forced himself to callback. "But for that sweet shooting of yours the stunt might not haveworked. And--Oh, for gosh sakes!"

  Dave gasped out the last as he happened to glance at the instrumentpanel. One of the bursts of bullets from one of the Zeros had made ashambles of the instrument board. And the compass in particular was justa heap of junk. With the compass gone they would have to depend entirelyupon celestial navigation. In other words, any hope they might have ofcontinuing on to find Admiral Jackson's task force was completely gone.Because of the milling around in the fight they had, of course, lost alltrack of their exact position. And they would have to know theirposition exactly in order to set a true course for the area where theybelieved the Ya
nk task force to be. And without the aid of the compassthey wouldn't be able to hold to a true course, even if they could plotone. And so there was but one thing to do. They at least could tell thedirection of south. And somewhere south of them was New Guinea with theYank-held base at Port Morseby. So south it had to be, and in no otherdirection.

  "Blast their good shooting!" Dave heard Freddy's voice close behind him,and knew that the English youth was looking at what had happened to thecompass. "Well, south it is then, Dave. It'll be dark in no time, now.And at least we can tell true south from the stars. But, after all,we're blasted lucky. So I guess we can't kick much, what?"

  Dawson nodded, and dragged air into his lungs. The pain of it caused himto wince slightly, silently. But he managed to speak the words.

  "Go south, I always say," he grunted. "But keep the old fingers crossed,Freddy. And don't forget the praying, either. We haven't got the Japs toworry about any more, thank God. But we have got an awful lot of oceanto consider. And--yeah--a plane that maybe won't quite make it.

  "Rot, Dave!" Freddy snapped at him. "You're talking like an old woman.Come off it. We'll make it, you'll see. Blast it, Dave, we've just gotto!"

  "Check, kid, check!" Dawson mumbled. "We've just got to make it, andhow!"

  And with a half-nod for emphasis he unconsciously put his free hand tohis throbbing chest.