Dave Dawson with the Flying Tigers

CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Beware The Sharks!

"The dirty swine!Blast their rotten hearts!Gosh!What I'd give to lead a patrol of bombers right now!Dash it all!I'd even be willing to settle for Hawker Hurricanes!"

The words spilled softly and tonelessly off Freddy Farmer's lips.His eyes fixed on the captured field were bright and brittle, and he was unconsciously thumping one clenched fist into the palm of the other hand.Dawson glanced sidewise at him, grinned, and nudged his arm.

"Check, and double check, pal!"he whispered."But wishing for the impossible won't help a bit.Besides, we haven't got time to jaw around on such things.Take a look at that spread of Jap planes, Freddy.Which one do you figure should be our baby, when we get it?"

"If we get it!" the English youth muttered grimly. "Of course, I'd much prefer one of those Zeros. But we couldn't both ride in the same plane. Besides, they don't even carry enough gas to get us across the China Sea, to say nothing of up to Chungking."

"Not a chance in a Zero," Dawson grunted with a shake of his head."And those Mitsubishi bombers over there are out, too.Take too long to get one of them off.So that brings up the important fact, pal."

"Only one important fact?" Freddy Farmer groaned.

"For the present, anyway," Dawson whispered with a grin."In other words, with what we manage to steal from these little rats, we wouldn't be able to make Chungking non-stop.Our best bet, and the shortest hop possible, is to skip across the northern part of Indo-China, and reach Kunming."

"Suits me perfectly!"breathed Freddy Farmer, his eyes lighting up."Kunming is H.Q.for those Flying Tiger chaps.We may spot a few of them on patrol to escort us in.Also, to send the Jap johnnies on their way.The ones chasing us, or ones we're bound to run into, I mean."

"Sure, easy as pie!"Dawson snorted."When we meet Flying Tigers on patrol we simply yell at them that the Jap ship we're in doesn't mean a thing, huh?And they'll catch on, quick?Listen, pal, those Flying Tigers are hot stuff.They don't bother asking Jap pilots for their names and addresses.They just sail in guns blazing.And, bingo!Hirohito has a few less.See what I mean?"

"Well, what do you plan, then, Master Mind?" Freddy growled.

"Nothing," Dave came right back at him. "Once we're in the air, all we can do is hope that we can outfly the Japs chasing us. And that we don't bump into any of the Flying Tiger boys on the prowl. So I guess that baby over there is the one for our money. It's the closest, and those Jap mechanics wheeling that gas dollie away means that it's just been fueled up. What do you think?"

Freddy Farmer peered in the direction of Dawson's pointing finger and silently eyed the plane indicated on the near side of the triangular-shaped field.It was a Mitsubishi "Karigane" MK-Eleven two-place, low wing monoplane fighter.It was powered with an eight hundred horsepower radial engine of copied American design.And it was reputed to be one of the fastest, and longest ranged two-place planes in the Far Eastern theatre of war.And so Freddy had only to take a good look to be satisfied.

"We should just about make Kunming in it, with luck," he said to Dave."However, there's the small detail of stealing her, you know.There's plenty of Nips standing around over there.And they all look armed to me."

"They are," Dawson grunted. "But this isn't any walking stick I've got in my hands, pal. Seriously, though, Freddy, I think we can surprise those bums out of that plane without much trouble. Look at how cocky they're acting, will you? Well, it's my guess a few well placed bursts from this machine gun could throw the place into a panic. You fast on your feet, kid?"

"Fast as you are if I have to be, I guess," Freddy replied gravely."But just what do you plan to do?Rush them from here?It's sixty yards, if it's an inch."

"You think I'm that dumb?" Dawson growled, and shook his head vigorously. "No, not rush them from here. Get them to come rushing over here!"

"Eh, what's that?"the English youth gasped as his eyes popped and his jaw sagged.

He started to say more, but Dawson stopped him by pointing at the little path that turned sharp right and skirted that side of the airfield, just inside the jungle growth.It had obviously been used by soldiers on guard duty.In short, they had used it to reach their posts, instead of crossing the field in the face of planes landing or taking off.It could also be used during a bombing raid when it wasn't good sense to show oneself out on the open field.

"There's where we run, Freddy," Dawson said."After I've blasted a few bursts back in the general direction of that Jap sentry we hauled down. My guess, or my hope, is that those over there on the edge of the field will come a-running, figuring his post has been attacked. Well, when they start cutting across the field we'll start down that path, but fast. The jungle growth will hide us, and we can get to a point right behind that two-seater before we'll have to break out into the open. And then—"

Dawson paused, and a tight, hard smile stretched his lips.

"Maybe even then we'll have to knock a few of them off," he said grimly."But so what?That'll make just less Japs, that's all.Well, okay by you?"

Freddy Farmer shrugged, and gestured with his hands, palms upward.

"Why not?"he grunted."It's just as insane and foolhardy as anything I could think up.Right you are, then.But let's get on with it.I don't fancy hanging around here any longer than I have to."

"You think I'm in love with the place?"Dawson snorted, and slipped the safety catch off the machine gun's trigger."Okay, kid.On your mark!Here goes!"

Dawson's last whispered word hadn't even been swallowed up by the jungle silence before he had pointed the sub-machine gun back along the path in the direction of the dead Jap sentry, and pulled the trigger.Three, four silence-shattering bursts leaped out from the gun's muzzle, and a bit of the jungle growth in the line of fire promptly looked as if it had been whizzed through a fine meat grinder.But Dave didn't pause to admire the fire power effect on the jungle target.As the last bullet sped clear, he spun around and snapped a quick gaze out across the field.And for a crazy instant it was all he could do to stop from laughing out loud.Every blessed Jap on the field had frozen stiff, and some of them in the queerest, most unnatural positions.

However, they did not remain that way for long.A high-pitched sing-song voice hit the air, and it was as though many invisible strings had been jerked.The Japs snapped up straight, grabbed for their side arms, or caught up their rifles or machine guns, and came tearing across the field, screaming at the top of their hideous-sounding voices.But by the time the first of them had taken one step, Freddy and Dave had taken two steps along the hidden path.And they kept right on adding more and more driving power to their legs.

In almost less time than it takes to relate it they had covered those sixty odd yards of jungle path, and were directly behind the two-seater Mitsubishi MK-Eleven that they figured on "borrowing."Yes, directly behind it, but they still had some fifteen yards more of open ground before they could reach the plane's cockpit.Just the same they didn't hug the ground and waste time contemplating that final dash across open ground.They simply waited long enough for Dave to sprint in front with the sub-machine gun, and then off they went on the final lap.

Final lap?It was only fifteen yards to that MK-Eleven.Four good running broad jumps would cover the distance easily.But to Dave those fifteen yards seemed more like fifteen hundred.As he had half expected, and half feared, not all the Japs in that corner of the field had gone tearing over to investigate the mystery of the firing machine gun.A half dozen or so of them, all mechanics, had remained where they were.And it so happened that their sharp eyes caught sight of Dawson the very instant he broke out into the open.Blood-curdling screams of rage smote the air, and were instantly punctuated by rifle fire.But also in the same instant Dawson had dropped to one knee and was sweeping his bullet-spitting machine gun to left and right.

A couple of the Japs instantly went flat to the ground, and right out of the war and the world forever.And the others spun around and leaped for the protection of a nearby bomber's fuselage.That was okay by Dawson.It was just what he wanted.He slammed a short burst under the bomber's belly, and yelled to Freddy.

"Jump for it, Freddy!"he cried."Into the rear cockpit, and be ready to catch this gun and cover me as I pile in.Get going!"

The last two words were quite unnecessary.Freddy Farmer wasn't taking precious split seconds out to do any arguing this time.As a matter of fact, he had already leaped past Dave as the Yank ace shouted the order.And in another couple of leaps he had reached the side of the MK-Eleven and was virtually throwing himself into the rear cockpit.Dawson saw Freddy make it out the corner of his eye, and slapped one more burst to kick up dust under the bomber's belly.Then he sprang to his feet, and dived for the MK-Eleven himself.As he reached its side he threw the sub-machine gun straight at Freddy.The English youth caught it in his hands, and was pumping bullets over at the bomber, behind which the Japs were attempting to hide and fire, in the single bat of an eyelid.

In what was practically a continuation of a wild leap into the pilot's cockpit of that Jap MK-Eleven, Dawson whipped out one hand to knock up the ignition switches, and stabbed the other thumb on the starter button, and kicked off the wheel brakes with his foot.As the Jap-copied American aircraft engine caught on the first time over, and roared up in a full throated song of power, he blessed the odd simplicity of Jap instrument panels and engine gadgets.There were not more than six or seven of them, and though they were printed in Jap sign writing, it was easy enough to guess their uses and functions.And so as the MK-Eleven quivered and trembled for a brief instant and then went rocketing out across the field like a comet gone haywire, he did not jab or pull one wrong thing and put an end to their little bit of war thievery right then and there.

On the contrary, he was able to nurse the last ounce of maximum power from the roaring engine, and Jap-fired bullets had hardly begun to twang and whine past his ears before he had the wheels clear and was hauling the speedy little craft straight up toward the sun-flooded Philippine sky.And he kept it going right on upward until he had more than enough altitude under him.Then he whipped over and around onto even keel with the nose pointed diagonally across the northern reaches of the Philippines toward the South China Sea beyond.

Then he turned around and grinned happily at Freddy Farmer.

"Just like robbing the cradle, hey, pal?"he bellowed.

The English youth made a wry face and flung a pointing hand toward the south.

"Not quite over yet, old thing!"he shouted back."Here come some of the blighters, for a starter.Too bad we didn't also steal their blasted radio station!"

---

CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Aces Think Fast

As Dawson swung his head around the other way and stared to the south, he saw the swarm of Jap wings prop-clawing along on a line intended to cut him off from in front.A second glance, however, told him that his stolen MK-Eleven held a slight edge.Told him, also, that his path and the flight path of those other Jap planes would cross at a point several miles out over the South China Sea.

"But those bums are going to cross our path behind us, if I've got anything to say about it!" he told himself grimly. "I've got enough worries about whether this crate will make Kunming, without having those bums give me grey hairs!"

With a savage nod for emphasis, he shot another look toward the Jap planes boiling up from the south, twisted around to give Freddy Farmer a reassuring grin, and then turned front and concentrated every effort on getting every ounce of speed out of the MK-Eleven.Some fifteen minutes later, when he took another look at the Jap planes, a tight grin stretched his lips, and he gave a little nod of approval.He had managed to gain on them considerably, and it looked now as if the little brown men of Nippon were just wasting gas and oil.And in addition to that helpful fact, cloud banks were beginning to form in the heavens ahead.Just let him reach them, and the whole darn Jap air force could try to hunt him out, if it wanted to.

"And so that is just what we'll do!"he murmured softly to himself."We'll beat those little tramps to the clouds, and—"

A sharp rap of Freddy Farmer's fist on his shoulder cut the rest off short.He jerked his head around and started to bark the obvious question, but the English youth was already talking, and pointing.

"I fancy the Japs back on Legaspi have been using their blasted radio some more, Dave!"Freddy shouted."Look up there to the north!More of the blighters.Guess they must come from Jap air bases on Hainan Island.Up to you, old thing.Can we still make those clouds?"

Dawson didn't answer at once because at that moment he had impulsively glanced to the south-west.And there in the distant sky he picked out more Jap planes racing up to join the other two enemy forces.He studied them for a moment longer, and then turned front, eyes hard and lips pressed into a thin grim line.

"We not only can," he grated presently, "but we're going to, if this thing'll just hold together. They figure to pull the old three-way squeeze on us, but the bums have got another think coming. Hang onto your hat, Freddy! This air buggy is going to go places, but fast!"

And then began a sky race against overwhelming odds.With the heel of one palm jammed hard against the already wide open throttle, Dawson hunched forward and kept his eyes glued on the clouds ahead.To reach them he had to sacrifice precious speed by gaining altitude.But there wasn't anything else he could do about it.To out-race the Japs cutting down from the north was just plain out of the question.If they didn't pile down into him eventually, the Japs coming up from the south-west would.So his only hope lay in reaching the safety of the clouds ahead, in gaining altitude, and slicing into those clouds before any of the enemy planes could get within range.

It was nip and tuck every foot of the way.And when the most optimistic of the Jap pilots opened up with long range fire, every crack of their guns was like a tiny little knife of frozen ice jabbing into Dawson's heart.Not once, though, did he take time out to glance at the diminishing distance between the planes.He kept every bit of his attention riveted on his own aircraft.When the Japs got too close, the yammer of Freddy Farmer's rear guns would tell him that it was time to forget the race, and concentrate on fighting for their lives.

However, Freddy Farmer's rear guns did not speak once as Dawson sent the MK-Eleven ripping through the air high above the South China Sea.And then, when it seemed that at least ten years of his life had come and gone, the plane reached the first of the clouds and went prop-clawing into them, and out of sight.

"Cheers for you, old thing!"Freddy Farmer cried as the fleecy whiteness closed in all about them."We made it, for fair!"

"But only just!"Dawson called back to him."And don't thank me.Thank this Nip sky wagon.Okay, start navigating, pal.We stick right to our original course.Ten to one they'll think we'll try to fool them by doubling back.Kunming!Here we come!"

As Dave yelled the last there was a smile on his lips, and the warmth of great happiness in his heart.The end of their journey halfway around the world was almost in sight now.All that was left was the small matter of sitting down at Kunming without getting shot down for a surprise raiding Jap plane, gassing up there, and racing on to Chungking.At Kunming he'd have word flashed ahead that they'd be arriving in a Jap plane.Or perhaps it would be better to borrow a Flying Tiger ship at Kunming and not run the risk of being taken for a Jap.However, that was a minor point.Just one more landing, and then Chungking next stop!

"And it won't make me mad to get a little rest from barging about the sky!"he grunted with a nod."Yeah!It will be all to the merry to feel how it is to walk on the ground for a spell, and not crawl on hands and knees, or wiggle around like some darn snake.Nope, I won't mind it a bit."

And with those and other very pleasant thoughts rippling through his brain, he sent the MK-Eleven charging dead ahead on course through the clouds.Every so often they came to a hole in the stuff, and they could look down through and see patches of Japanese-occupied Indo-China.And on a couple of those occasions Freddy Farmer was able to accurately determine their position from land marks below.And each time it was proved that they were right smack on course.

Two, three, four hours dragged by, and then suddenly the Mitsubishi MK-Eleven ripped out into clear blue air just as suddenly as it had gone ripping into the clouds.The instant they were out in the clear both Dawson and Freddy Farmer made a swift study of the rugged and most uninviting terrain below.However, its ugliness did not beat down the great satisfaction that swelled up in them.They were dead on course still.Some fifty miles ahead was the China border, and about as many miles to the left was the point where the borders of China, Indo-China, and Burma met.A little under an hour, now, and Kunming would be under their wings.

Yes, it was a very wonderful and soul-satisfying realization, but it lasted just about long enough for them to stop looking at the terrain below and make a searching sweep with their eyes of the surrounding sky.It was then that the gods of war screamed with laughter and the heart-stopping truth was revealed.In short, there was a swarm of Jap planes to their right, another one to their left, and a third one directly behind.True, all of the enemy aircraft were well out of range, but it took only a flash study of their angle of approach to realize that the enemy pilots would reach the China border long before they did.Reach it and form a winged barrier of flame and death-spitting aerial machine guns and cannon.

"Blast them!"Freddy Farmer's voice thundered in Dawson's ears."Go right through the blighters, Dave!We've got to.It's the only thing we can do.Blast through them, Dave, and I'll keep the beggars at a distance!"

Dawson heard the words, but he paid little attention to them. He was studying the Jap planes closing in from three sides, and with heavy heart he realized that these planes were new. That is, they were not the ones that had taken up the chase originally. And that fact confirmed what he already believed to be the truth. The Jap forces in the Far Eastern theatre of war had practically gone nuts with the radio, and summoned every Jap plane over an area of thousands of square miles to hunt down the thieves of a single Jap MK-Eleven. But its meaning held more than just that for Dawson. It seemed almost insane to credit it as truth, but facts pointed to the obvious: that the Japs here, halfway around the world from London, knew who Freddy and he were, knew the object of their mission, and knew where they were headed. Yes, it seemed incredible and utterly fantastic. But hadn't that little adventure with one Herr Miller in the middle of the North Atlantic seemed equally so? And that close brush with death when they had been ambushed on the way to Hickam Field with General Stickney? It just went to prove for the umpty-umph millionth time that anything can happen in war. And that the smart soldier should expect it, and be ready.

Perhaps it took all of three seconds for those and other thoughts to whip through Dawson's brain.And then in the fourth second he saw something that made a decision for him.That "something" was a small group of dots at a point in the air right smack over the Burma border.They were several miles away, but Dawson's eyes were sharp enough to pick them out for what they truly were, and an unconscious shout of joy spilled from his lips.

"Lifesavers, Freddy!"he howled back at the English youth."Over there!See?That's a patrol of Flying Tigers!Those are shark's head-painted Curtiss P-Forties, or I'll eat my shirt.Take a deep breath, Freddy!Everything is going to be okay!"

"Yes, I see them!" the English youth shouted back. "But they don't know who we are, you know. Head for them and they'll blow us to bits before we can even flash them a sign. Good grief! What are you doing now?"

The last was because Dawson had deliberately hurtled the MK-Eleven around toward the south and was tearing full out straight for the nearest of the Jap planes roaring up from that direction.

"Our best bet!"he yelled at Freddy."Get set with those rear guns.We'll give those Flying Tiger boys a sign that'll leave no doubts that we're not Japs.We smack one of them down, Freddy.Make it two.That'll tell the Flying Tiger boys as plain as writing them a letter.Okay, pal!Make it perfect as I tear in and out.Here we go!"

To any unsuspecting observer, that lone MK-Eleven racing straight toward a swarm of Jap Zeros must have looked like a sheer suicide maneuver.At least, it must have looked that way to the Zero pilots who knew who was in that MK-Eleven.At any rate, the suddenness of the mad attack threw the slow thinking Japs off balance for a few split seconds.And for two sky warriors such as Dave Dawson and Freddy Farmer a few split seconds is sometimes as good as a whole lifetime.And that was so in this particular case.

While the brains of those slant-eyed sons of the Rising Sun groped for the true meaning of this unexpected maneuver, Dawson cut the MK-Eleven in at the leader at rocket speed.In the last second allowed he feinted as though to bank around and retreat.And that little act was curtains for the already befuddled brain in the leading Zero's cockpit.Its pilot started to pull over, but Dawson cut right back in again and jabbed the trigger button on his stick.The savage bursts from his guns caught the Zero broadside, and the Jap probably never even knew that he was dying for his so-called Heaven-born Emperor.At least he didn't know it until he was dead, and was falling earthward in a ball of raging flame.

Nor did a second Jap Zero pilot who happened to "get in the way" of Freddy Farmer's rear guns.The only difference was that he didn't go earthward in a ball of flame.Freddy's first burst caught his fuel tank.There was a sheet of mounting flame, and great belching gobs of black-smudged white smoke.And then there was just a shower of pieces going downward.

The time it took for all that to happen was perhaps no longer than the time it would take you to blink one eye.In fact, almost before both planes started down out of the war, Dawson had sheered off at lightning bolt speed, leaving the rest of the Japs still brain-groping and automatically fanning their guns at thin air.As a matter of fact, practically all of them had unconsciously swerved off in the opposite direction, and so when Dawson finally straightened out they were no longer to the south of him.They were behind, and well out of range.And six Curtiss P-Forties with their shark-painted noses were less than a mile dead ahead.

"Start waving, just to make sure, Freddy!"Dawson roared, as he booted the MK-Eleven toward those gallant American eagles who had come thousands of miles to fight and to die for China's great and worthy cause."Stand up, and start waving.They might think it was just some dizzy Jap trick."

"Not a chance, I fancy!" the English-born air ace shouted back. "Those Jap yellow beggars have seen them!Take a look for yourself!"

Dawson gulped, "Huh?"as he jerked around in the seat.But that's all he said, because in the next second he was bursting with laughter.He was, for the very funny fact that every Jap-flown plane in the surrounding skies had about-faced and was making tracks for any place that would be far away from those dead-aim pilots who flew those terror ships of the Chinese Air Force.At least a hundred Jap pilots were streaking for safety from six hard-eyed, steel trigger-fingered knights of the air.Just one more proof that though Jap pilots fly in bunches, they know they will die the same way if they make the mistake of getting too close to the guns of the Flying Tigers!

"Boy, oh boy!Look at them scoot, will you!"Dawson chuckled."Praise be to Allah for the Flying Tigers.It's just about all over but the shouting, Freddy.Better start brushing up on your Chinese, pal, if you know any!"

The English-born air ace laughed at that remark.But so did the gods of war up in their unseen high places.Not, however, for the same reason.They laughed because they knew that Death was only taking a breathing spell; that Death would return again, and soon, to claim its victims!

---

CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Warriors' Duty

With a grin on his lips, and a happy song in his heart, Dawson rocketed the Jap MK-Eleven across the sky toward the six P-Forties.And Freddy Farmer half stood up in the rear cockpit and waved a wild greeting to the Flying Tigers.The pilot of the lead plane waggled his wings in reply, and then he and his five buddies swept by the MK-Eleven and came about fast to take up escort positions.Dawson glanced over at the leader and grinned broadly.The Flying Tiger returned the grin, and then made signs with his hands to inquire how much gas Dawson had left in his tanks.The Yank air ace took a quick look at the gauge and gulped.True, he had some gas left, but not nearly enough to get him to Kunming.In fact, he had only fifteen minutes or so of flying time left.Unless there was a field within fifteen minutes range, he and Freddy were still going to have trouble on their hands.

Turning his head toward the Flying Tiger in the leading P-Forty, he lifted up his free hand and opened it and closed it three times.The Flying Tiger nodded acknowledgment, gave Dawson a reassuring wave with his hand and then pointed ahead and to the north.And just twelve minutes later the pilot waggled his wings once more, dropped the shark's-head nose of his plane, and went sliding downward.Dawson took a look downward and swallowed hard.As far as he could see there wasn't the sign of a field below.There was nothing but lush green jungle and cliff and crag-studded hills and mountains.He knew they were over the Burmese border, but at just what point he could only guess.

"I hope that guy isn't kidding!"he grunted absently."You could break your neck without any trouble landing in that stuff down there.Oh, well.Here's hoping, anyway."

There was no need for Dawson to be worried, however.A little under a minute later, the leading P-Forty eased off the angle of its glide, and slid around the corner of a hill range and settled down onto a small, level field, that looked like anything else but from the air.The other five Flying Tigers went down in rapid succession to show Dawson where he should land.And then, just as the Jap M-Eleven's engine was sputtering out the last of its song of power, Dawson whipped off the ignition switch, and coasted down the rest of the way.

No sooner had he touched ground than a couple of Flying Tiger mechanics rushed out and waved him over to the side of the field where heavy tropical growth grew like a solid green wall.They grabbed his wing tips, and helped him wheel-brake the plane in under the edge of the stuff.And when Freddy and he finally legged down onto the sun-baked ground, there wasn't a single plane left out in the open for prowling Jap eyes to spot from above.

"Wonder what this place is?"Dawson grunted, as he and Freddy watched a dozen or so youths in American Volunteer Group uniforms come running over to them.

"I think it's near Menglien, in Burma," the English youth replied."Between the Indo-China border and the Salween River.But what does it matter?We're in very safe hands, and praise the good Lord for that!"

"Check, and double check!"Dawson echoed the statement."Now, just one more hop, and this crazy messenger boy job will be all over."

Freddy Farmer started to comment on that but checked himself as the group of Flying Tigers arrived.They were all American boys, and a warm, satisfying feeling flooded through Dawson.One of them, a tall, dark-haired man with a major's insignia on his shoulder straps, flipped a hand up in friendly salute and acted as spokesman.

"Welcome to Burma, Captains Dawson and Farmer!"he said."How's one of those Jap crates fly?And did you really swipe it in the Philippines?Oh, yeah.I'm Major Brown, Fifth Group Commander.I'll introduce you to the boys later.But welcome, anyway."

"Thanks, Major," Dawson said with a faint frown."How come you know who we are, and that we swiped this MK-Eleven in the Philippines?We didn't think anybody knew it, except maybe some Japs."

"That's just the point," the major replied with a chuckle. "Some Japs did know it, and now the whole world knows it, maybe. At least, if they've been tuned in on the Jap radio in this neck of the world. Darned near the whole Jap Air Force has been looking for you for hours. I guess some of them must have got close, eh, to force you this far south. According to the Jap radio, you two were supposed to be headed for Chungking."

For a couple of seconds neither Dawson nor Freddy Farmer could say a word.Their feet, figuratively speaking, had been knocked right out from under them.The fact that their supposedly secret journey to Chungking had been publicized just about as much as Santa Claus' yearly trip on Christmas Eve left them speechless, and gaping at the Flying Tiger C.O.

"Jap radio, sir?"Freddy Farmer finally found his voice."You mean, the Japs have been broadcasting this thing?"

"Well, mainly for Jap Air Force consumption, I guess," the major replied. "But anybody who tuned in, and understood Jap, could have got the story. Part of it, anyway. We've got a radio here, of course, and one of the boys understands Jap. So we learned that Captains Dawson and Farmer are wanted plenty bad by the Japs. It seems they are believed to have stolen a plane near Legaspi, in the Philippines, and are undoubtedly headed for Chungking. All available Jap pilots were ordered into the air from Hong-kong to the Burma border to find these two wanted lads, and force them down and take them prisoner. Force them down, not shoot them down. Maybe you know why. I don't. Anyway, we were out on patrol when our ground station relayed to us that the Japs had sighted you, and where. Seemed as if you might get into trouble, so we busted out a ways to help if we could."

"And how you did, Major, how you did!"Dawson exclaimed."And thanks from the bottom of our hearts.Yes, we do know why the Japs want us alive.We—well, we've got an important date in Chungking.I can tell you that much, anyway.But it sure is a shock to learn that the Japs over here knew all about us.We'd been thinking we were pretty slick to have given them the run-around."

The Flying Tiger C.O.grinned and shrugged.

"Things like that happen, and often," he grunted."It sure does beat all how secrets get around in this darn war.But they sure do.And from my experiences with the Japs I've learned that Hitler's trick Gestapo hasn't got a thing on the little brown slant eyes when it comes to espionage and stuff.But here, here!You two must be about dead on your feet.We can compare notes later.You'll be wanting food, and rest.Or—or are you really in a hurry to get to Chungking?"

"Frankly, we are, sir," Dawson told him."We began this trip from London four nights ago, and—-well, there's just one more hop to make, and we'd sure like to get it over with, if you get what I mean?So we were wondering if you could spare us gas for this MK-Eleven to get us to Chungking?"

Major Brown scowled and shot a worried look up toward the clear blue sky.

"We've plenty of gas," he said presently."It isn't a case of that.But this MK is a marked ship, Dawson, and there are flocks of Japs on patrol between here and Chungking.You'd never make it unless some of us went along as escort.And—"

"Well, could we borrow a couple of your P-Forties, sir?"Freddy Farmer interrupted politely."Then the Jap beggars probably wouldn't suspect.And we'd bring them right back.Not necessary for us to remain in Chungking for any great length of time, you know."

The Flying Tiger C.O.sighed heavily, and looked very sad.He gestured toward twelve Curtiss P-Forties well dispersed about the edges of the small field.

"Those are all the ships we have," he said."And just enough pilots to fly them.At any other time, I'd say take a couple and luck to you.At any other time, too, I'd radio Kunming for permission to have us all escort you up there, and you could fly the MK.But both of those things are out now.Maybe this mission of yours is plenty important, but—"

The senior officer paused and shrugged again.

"But we've got an important mission coming up 'most any minute, too," he continued presently."A matter of some twenty thousand Chinese soldiers caught in a trap, and about to be slaughtered by the Japs.Sometime today every A.V.G.unit within reach is going to try and fix it so's those Chinese soldiers can get out of the trap.If they don't make it today, they're sunk—every one of them!"

"Good gosh!" Freddy Farmer breathed. "Twenty thousand, you say, sir?"

"And maybe more!" the other said grimly. "Northwest of here, about sixty miles. At a bend in the Salween River. The Chinese are on one side, and a much larger Jap force on the other. A surprise move that caught the poor devil Chinese cold. The river is shallow there, but right behind the Chinese is a five hundred foot cliff. They came down it by small road and foot path. Just infantry units, with no artillery support at all. Meantime, the Japs had closed in on the other side of the river, with plenty of artillery. So the Chinese are caught both ways. If they try to retreat up the cliff roads the Japs can pick them off like flies. And if they try to cross the river and get at the Japs with their machine guns and rifles, the Jap artillery can drown them like rats—by the thousands. We hope to ground-strafe and light bomb the Japs so much they won't have time to let the Chinese have anything before the Chinese have been able to force the river crossing and can come to close grips with them. If we don't do that today, Chiang Kai-shek's boys are lost. The Jap artillery will have all been moved into position by nightfall. So you see—"

Major Brown gestured, and left the rest hanging in mid-air.Both Dawson and Freddy Farmer nodded, and showed their understanding and sympathy with their eyes.

"Well, in that case, sir—" he began, and stopped.

He stopped because at that moment three things happened all at the same time.First, an A.V.G.orderly came pounding up on the dead run.

"Word's just been flashed, Major!"he panted."Group take off and proceed as ordered!"

The second thing that happened was the ungodly wail of the air raid siren mounted atop a small shack on the far side of the field.And the third thing that happened was the sudden, lightning-like appearance of a lone Jap Zero wing screaming around the corner of the hill range, and straight down toward the field.

Dawson had hardly spotted it before he saw the jetting streams of orange-yellow coming out from the leading edges of its wing.It swept down low until its belly was almost touching the field, and it came straight for the group near the MK-Eleven.Dawson heard Major Brown roar out for everybody to duck for cover, but the order was quite unnecessary.Everybody had done just that, and as Dawson tried to bury his own body deep in the sun-baked ground, his ears were filled with the savage snarl of the Zero's gunfire.It was as though the plane were sitting right on top of his head, and its guns pumping bullets straight into his brain.And mingled in with the chattering roar was the sound of fire from ground guns posted about the field.Then suddenly there was silence, to be shattered almost immediately by a terrific explosion just overhead.

Impulsively Dawson twisted over and stared up to see what was left of the Jap Zero about six or seven hundred feet up in the air.Ground gunners had obviously caught it cold, and its gas tank had blown it into all those flaming splinters that were now arcing out far and wide.Its dead pilot, however, had seemingly fulfilled his suicide mission.As Dawson twisted over he saw that the MK-Eleven was on fire and blazing fiercely.That fact snapped him out of his trance and brought him leaping up onto his feet with a cry of alarm struggling up his throat.

It was then, though, that he realized there was no gas in the MK-Eleven for those raging flames to explode.And it was then, also, that he saw the terrible look on Major Brown's face.Wild, seething rage, and bitter, heart-crushing agony flamed on the senior officer's face.Dawson leaped over to him and grabbed his arm.

"You hit, sir?"he shouted."Where?Take it easy, and—"

"I'm okay!"the other snapped."But Stevens, and Gregg.They caught one.They can't go.That leaves only ten of us to do a big job.I wonder if—"

"Ten nothing!" Dawson roared as he saw the two wounded Flying Tigers stretched out on the ground. "You've still got twelve. What do you think Farmer and I do for a living? Drive tanks?"

"But, but Chungking!"Major Brown sputtered."I can't ask you two to—"

"And you can't stop us, either!"Dawson cut him off."Chungking?Listen!Twenty thousand trapped Chinese soldiers are worth making Chungking wait!Heck!You think Freddy and I would sit here and cool our heels while all those Chinese lads are trapped?And by dirt rotten Japs?Nuts!What two planes, Major?Point them out, and let's go!"

"Over there, numbers six and ten!"the Flying Tiger leader cried."And good—!"

"Same to you!" Dawson snapped and started running. "Come on, Freddy. Shift it! We've got some real flying to do for a change!"

Not over two minutes later twelve shark head-painted Curtiss P-Forties went roaring up off the surface of that field, slid in close in formation, and went cutting around and up toward the northwest.Flying at number three on the right, Dawson turned his head and grinned over at Freddy Farmer flying the same formation position on the left.The English youth seemed to feel his look, for he turned his head and returned the grin.They both nodded silently and immediately returned their attention to the business of flying.

"Tough on those two lads hit!"Dawson breathed to himself as the formation went ripping along over the uninviting terrain of North Burma."But what a break for Freddy and me.Once again going into action with the Flying Tigers.Hot dog!And here's hoping that this time things will turn out even better than that other time, which was plenty, what I mean!"[3]

With a grim nod for emphasis, Dawson twisted the little button on the stick to "Fire" position, and made sure that everything was set to release the cluster of twenty small strafing bombs fitted to the under side of the wings.Everything was in order now, and all that was left was the passing of time, and the arrival at the objective.

And that arrival seemed to become a fact almost before Dawson could blink his eyes and take a deep breath.As though by magic, three more Flying Tiger Groups materialized in the Burma sky.And just ahead at a hair pin bend in the muddy Salween River, the ground on both sides was beginning to belch up flame and smoke.But most of the flame and smoke came from the north side of the bend, from the heavily fortified Japanese positions.And it seemed to be no more than a couple of split seconds later that Dawson was wing-screaming his Curtiss P-Forty practically down at the vertical.

In his earphones he heard Major Brown bark orders for two of the Flying Tigers to stay top-side to ride herd and watch out for Jap planes.But he didn't turn his head to take a look at the two who were to remain aloft.He kept his eyes fixed on the picture below, and his blood boiled with anger.Trapped was right!And how!It was like a small edition of the beach at Dunkirk, during the British evacuation of France back in 1940.Thousands and thousands of brave Chinese troops were huddled in the shore growth with the suicide cliff at their backs.And across the river's bend in the low hill, thousands and thousands of little slant-eyed rats of Nippon were hurling death and destruction into the midst of those Chinese.The foothills seemed to explode shell fire every three or four feet in any direction.And trailing backward along the narrow roads were columns of supply trains moving upward with more horror and more death for those helpless Chinese.

All that and more Dawson saw and absorbed with his eyes as he went roaring downward.And then he was within range of the Jap forces, and all thoughts of everything fled from his brain.That is, all thoughts of everything save the constant thought of hammering those hordes of slant-eyed rats into the ground as long as he and his plane and his guns could hold out.Here was a chance to pay back for some of the things he had seen and had suffered himself.Here was a chance to fight for a gallant nation; a nation that had held its own against the Tokyo vermin for so many years.Chungking?Sure!Freddy and he would get to Chungking presently.Right now, though, the lives of twenty thousand Chinese soldiers hung in the balance.The lives of twenty thousand Chinese soldiers, and some thirty odd shark-painted Curtiss P-Forties overhead to do something about it!

"Don't worry, pals, we'll blast them out for you!We'll blast the rotten bums out even if we have to come down and do it with our bare fists!And how, pals!And how!"

Silly, crazy words?Certainly!But Dave Dawson's brain was afire with the excitement of battle.And besides, words shouted and screamed aloud are simply a warrior's escape valve in the heat of conflict.Sure!Crazy, silly, inane words!But there was nothing crazy or silly about Dawson's guns, or the light strafing bombs fitted under his wings.Nor was there anything silly about the way he and the others tore right down until their props were practically flipping off the helmets of the Jap troops.And nothing silly about the way they blasted ammunition truck after ammunition truck on the roads, and knocked scores and scores of the little brown devils out of the world at practically every tick of their wrist-watches.

Before those Flying Tiger P-Forties had arrived, the Japs had been turning the opposite bank of the river bend into a smoking, blazing graveyard.But now it was all very different.The graveyard had been moved to the other side of the Salween's bend, and the Japs were getting the savage, relentless back-fire of something they had started.

"So?Think so?Well, think again, but good!"

The words automatically burst from Dawson's lips as he caught sight of two heavily loaded ammunition trucks rocking down one of the roads straight for the river's bend.Chinese troops relieved from the terrific pounding of Jap fire were starting to swarm across the shallow river and get at close quarters with the enemy.Some Jap officer had spotted them, though.Or perhaps it was just a suicidal idea of the drivers of those two ammunition trucks.At any rate, the two trucks were hurtling down to the river's bank to plow into the water among those swarms of Chinese troops, and blow them all to bloody pieces.

That was the mad Jap suicide idea.But two steel-eyed eagles spotted what was taking place.Two steel-eyed eagles who had been feasting on juicy roast beef in London just four nights before.And down they streaked like two man-made birds of vengeance straight for those two trucks hurtling toward the river's edge.And when he was little more than a few feet over the leading truck, Dawson dumped the last of his light strafing bombs, and instantly nosed upward for altitude.On that load of exploding death he could practically have dropped a lighted match!

Hardly had his P-Forty started to prop-scream for the sky before the whole of Burma below him exploded in a world-shattering thunder of sound.He had purposely dropped down low so that he would be sure not to miss his target.And so his zooming plane was caught by a thousand invisible hands, spun around like a top and flung high and far across the sky.Instinctively he tried to battle the helpless plane, but he might just as well have tried to jump out into thin air and hold it back with his two hands.

Earth, sky, fire, smoke, and sections of airplane spun around in a mad race before his eyes.He saw the Jap hordes retreating from their positions in mad, frenzied flight.He saw wave after wave of Chinese soldiers swarming across the river and lighting out after the heels of the fleeing Japs.He saw a section of his left wing let go, and go sailing off into space.He even saw Freddy Farmer's P-Forty come tumbling down past him.And a split second later his own plane broke in two right at the cockpit, and popped him out into thin air as a pea pops out of a pod.

In a dazed, abstract sort of way he knew that he was falling through space.He knew also that his right hand clutched the rip-cord ring of his parachute.He thought, but he wasn't sure, that he had yanked the ring, and that the lifesaving white parachute silk was billowing upward.He had just a vague idea that the parachute had mushroomed out, and that his fall had been checked.However, there was no time to get control of his neck muscles and twist his head around and up to look.There wasn't time because at that instant jet black night sky seemed to drop straight down on him—and he knew no more!

---

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Lightning Wings

The music was soft and soothing; like no other music ever heard on earth before.And all about was beauty far beyond the reach of words, or the brush of an artist.Everything was so wonderful, so perfect, and so—

But into Dawson's throbbing, pounding head slipped a tiny inkling of the stark naked truth.There was no soft, soothing music.And there was no breathtaking beauty.In fact, nothing was wonderful, or even approaching perfection.All was Death!Horrible, lingering, painful death that comes to a man lost and unarmed in the steaming lush jungle of northern Burma.

Yes, it was just his brain, and all of his senses playing him tricks originated by the Devil.Tricks to make him let go, and just relax peacefully—and die!But he wouldn't let go.And he wouldn't die.He couldn't!There was too much to—

The roaring whine of aircraft engines pulled his head up out of the jungle mud and slime.He rolled half over on his back, gritted his teeth against the pain that movement caused, and peered up through the canopy of jungle growth at four Jap Zeros cutting across the blue-white sky toward the north.For a moment or so he blinked up at them stupidly.And then, like flood waters storming over a broken dam, memory came rushing back.

"Freddy!"he gasped, and pushed himself painfully up onto his feet."Freddy!I saw him bail out!Or did he?"

The thought seemed to catch hold of his brain and twist it savagely.White hot fire shot across the backs of his eyeballs, and the mass of lush green jungle all about began to swim around and become as so much churned up pea soup.He grabbed hold of a hanging vine for support, closed his eyes tight and fought grimly to drive back the wave of black oblivion that tried to engulf him.After a few moments his brain cleared a little, and his thumping heart eased off considerably.

"Easy does it, pal!"he told himself, tight-lipped."Don't go off half-cocked.It'll just get you that much more trouble."

The sound of his own voice seemed to soothe his jangled nerves.He nodded, and slowly looked about him.

"One thing at a time is the way," he went on talking to himself."First, get out of this spot.Pick some high ground, and head for it.You can't be so very far away from the Salween.Pick a hill and maybe you'll spot the river.But take it easy, and don't break a leg getting there.You—"

A thought suddenly cut into his head and froze his brain solid.And for a long minute he just stood there hanging onto the vine as he mentally died a thousand times over.Then, with an almost superhuman effort, he reached his right hand inside his tunic.When his fingers touched the stiff paper of the sealed envelope, tears of utter, inexpressible relief sprang to his eyes, and a great big lump clogged up his throat.Praise be to God!The sealed envelope for Chiang Kai-shek was still safe!But for a moment—

He shook his head, refusing to finish the horrible thought.It did little good, however, to brush that unfinished thought from his brain.Another one popped right in that was equally heart-stopping.The thought, the realization that he was completely lost in the North Burma jungle with no telling what was lurking in wait for him.If he didn't get out and complete his trip to Chungking, it would be just the same as though Freddy and he had been killed in that German U-boat, or by that Jap near Pearl Harbor, or by the little brown rats at Legaspi.Yes, to fail now would be just as bad as failing right at the very start.And he might—

"Cut it, cut it!"he rasped savagely at himself."Words won't help a darn bit.Action is what's needed!Snap out of it, you sniveling punk.Get going!Stop crying for your Mama!Get going!"

The commands from his tongue put his muscles into action.He took a quick glance at the position of the sun, and then headed north, and slightly to the east.He had a hunch that the Salween River lay in that direction, and until he was proved wrong the only thing he could do was to play hunches.

An hour later, though, the soul-crushing torment that comes to men lost in the jungle was closing in on him from all sides like an invisible army of demons.With every step he had practically walked hand and hand with Death.Every step?His travel through the thick jungle growth could hardly be called steps.It was more falling forward, scrambling forward, lurching, twisting, and virtually clawing and tearing his way through the hanging vines.Hard ground would be beneath his feet at one moment, and in the next he would be up to his knees in muck and mire.Clouds of insects attacked him every inch of the way, and there was the constant danger of the needle fangs of deadly snakes.He spotted at least a dozen of them in the nick of time.But as the year long minutes dragged on and on, he ceased to care about what might be in his path.And there was so much pain in all parts of his body that he would have been unable to feel any new pain from the fangs of a striking snake, or any other jungle animal.

And then, when his brain as well as his body was hovering on the verge of a complete breakdown, he stumbled out onto open ground.But for a moment or two his befuddled brain was unable to grasp that truth, and he continued lurching and reeling forward until his foot tripped over a stone, and he fell flat on his face.It was the sharp, jarring pain of meeting hard ground that shook the red cobwebs from his brain, and pulled away the grey-green curtains from in front of his eyes.Yet even then the brain was not quite ready to function as it should, and he stared blankly up the bare slope of a hill without realizing what it was.

Eventually, though, it registered on his brain.And he also took note of the fact that a thin column of oily black smoke was mounting high into the still air from around the left side of the hill.A little door in his brain seemed to open up and tell him that that smoke must be from a burning plane.His plane, or Freddy Farmer's?He didn't know.The thin column of smoke was simply a welcoming beacon.Something tangible between a lost man and a world he had once known.He only knew that tears were streaming down his cheeks, that gagging sobs filled his throat, and that a pair of legs that had been on the point of quitting completely a moment or two before were carrying him at full speed around the base of the hill.

The gleefully jeering gods of war refused to let him alone, however.As he skirted the base of the hill, jungle growth leaped up in front of him to block off what was at the ground end of that mounting column of smoke.It forced him high and higher up the hill, and made him travel a good two miles toward a spot that was actually a short six hundred yards from his starting point.But eventually he reached a spot where the heavy growth ceased abruptly, and he found himself staring down the hill at the burning wreckage of a plane on the edge of a fair-sized plot of barren level ground.It was as though Nature had taken a pair of shears, started some three hundred yards back in the jungle, and cut a perfect swath through the jungle and right up the side of the hill.

Yes, that's what it looked like, but Dawson didn't tarry one fleeting instant to observe and marvel.He didn't for the simple reason that he saw the figure of Freddy Farmer standing a little off from the burning wreckage.Freddy Farmer spotted him at almost the same instant, and started jumping up and down, waving his arms wildly, and shouting like a maniac.But Dawson didn't wave or shout back in reply.He didn't wave because he was using his arms to pump his body down the hill.And he didn't shout because the air he sucked into his lungs was needed to keep his piston rod legs going at full speed.

As a matter of fact, when he finally reached Freddy Farmer and practically fell into the English youth's arms, there wasn't the air in his lungs to permit him to say anything.Nor could Freddy speak, either.The emotions of both of them had hit an all-time high, and they could only cling to each other and struggle for control and sanity.

"Freddy, Freddy, boy!"Dawson finally managed to force out past his lips."Am I happy to see your ugly mug!Say, am I happy?"

"Not half so glad as I am to see you, Dave!"Freddy panted, and pounded him on the back."I thought it was all up for fair.And it was a horrible thought I never want to have again, old thing.Another five minutes and I'd have given you up for good, and tried to find my way out of here.But—but you did see this smoke, and my prayers were answered.Why, you old good-for-nothing blighter, I never dreamed I'd taken such a fancy to you!"

"Me, too!"Dawson grinned at him."It had to take something like this to make me realize you're not such a bad guy at times.But hey!That burned crate was the bus I was flying, wasn't it?"

"That's right," Freddy told him."My aircraft didn't burn.And I bailed out near this spot.I saw this smoke and headed for it, hoping that you'd sight it, too, and we'd meet.And we did.But, good grief, Dave, what took you so long?I've been here almost an hour!"

"What took me so long?"Dawson echoed."Look, pal!I've been crawling through stuff that you just can't crawl through, if you get what I mean.Sweet tripe!After this little adventure a desert is sure going to look wonderful to me!I'll be tearing vines aside in my dreams for years to come.Holy smokes!Just look at me!"

"I am," Freddy Farmer said with a grin."And not to be impolite, I'd suggest a good bath for you, old thing!"

"It'll take a day of just soaking to get off the first layer!"Dawson said as he stared down at his mud and slime-caked hands, and at his uniform that just wasn't a uniform any more."But let's cut the horsing around.We're still in a spot, Freddy.I haven't any idea which way is out, have you?"

"Just a half-belief that the Salween must be east of here," the English youth said."But goodness knows how many of the Japs may be in between.And—"

"Plane engines!"Dawson barked, and grabbed Freddy's arm."Probably the Jap patrol I spotted when I woke up.This burning ship.They see the smoke.Let's duck, Freddy!We'd be sweet targets for those rats out here in the open!"

Freddy Farmer didn't reply.He simply nodded and started running with Dawson for the bordering jungle.But when they were a few yards from it some impulse caused Dawson to turn his head and glance back up over his shoulder.A wild cry burst from his lips, and he skidded to such an abrupt halt that he almost tripped over himself to go flat and haul Freddy down with him.

"P-Forties!" he gagged out."Hold everything.P-Forties!Not Zeros, Freddy!"

The English youth had skidded to a halt, too, and both boys stood gazing unbelieving up at three Flying Tiger P-Forties ripping into view over the brow of the hill.And the next thing Dawson realized he was racing back out onto the field again, jumping up and down and waving both hands over his head.And right beside him Freddy Farmer was doing the same thing, if not a little more violently.

But for one heart-shriveling instant the three Curtiss P-Forties, with their shark-painted noses, went banging right on across the field, as though their pilots hadn't sighted a thing of interest beneath their wings.However, when they reached the far end, two of them came curving around and down, while the third went up for a bit of altitude, and started circling about.

"They're landing, Freddy, they're landing!"Dawson screamed crazily.

"I know, I see!"the English youth screamed back, and pulled on his arm."So get out of the way, you blasted idiot, before their props chop your head off!"

That bit of sanity registered on Dawson's happy merry-go-round brain, and he let Freddy Farmer pull him clear of the path of the two landing P-Forties.But as soon as they had touched earth, and were wheel-braking to a halt, he broke away from Freddy's grasp and went pounding over.The pilot who leaped out of the first P-Forty was Major Brown, and he let out a warwhoop of greeting.

"Chalk one up for Lady Luck!"he boomed, as the two youths came racing up."I would have bet my shirt that—But never mind.By luck we spotted this smoke, and came for a look.Thank the Lord for small things, but this isn't small.Heavens above, Dawson!What mud hole and bramble patch did you fall into?But skip the answer.You two got the strength to hang on for a piggy-ride back?"

"If we haven't, we'll find it somewhere!"Dawson grinned.Then, sobering quickly, "But do you think you can get off here with the extra load?"

"If we don't," the other Flying Tiger, a freckle-faced red head, spoke up, "then there'll be four of us stuck here.And after what I saw you two guys do today, you're swell company any place, in my book."

"And that feeling is mutual," Dawson grinned at him."But tell me, how did the scrap come out?Did the Japs—?"

"Still running, those that aren't dead!"Major Brown said grimly."Yeah!Another headache for Tokyo, and more coming up.But let's can this chatter session.The Japs occupy this neck of the woods, and they'd be very happy to catch us here with our pants down.So let's get going.Sweeney!You take Farmer, and don't let him fall off, see?Come along, Dawson.Nothing like an airplane ride in the open air!"

Just four minutes later Lieutenant Sweeney, of the American Volunteer Group in China, sent his P-Forty rocketing down the length of the level patch of Burmese ground.And standing on the left wing butt, with his head and shoulders and arms inside the cockpit, Freddy Farmer went along as passenger.The savage prop-wash caught at Freddy's legs and tried to pull them out from under him, but he was well braced, and his hands had an iron grip on the inside of the cockpit.So he stayed put, and the veteran Flying Tiger lifted the fighter plane off the ground at the right moment, and nursed it up over the rim of the jungle and on up toward the blue-white sky.

And thirty seconds later Major Brown took off with Dave Dawson as his "strap-hanging" passenger.When that plane was well clear of the ground, the P-Forty that had been left top-side to ride cover slid downward, and the three planes slid into formation with their noses pointed for the home field at Menglien some eighty odd miles away.

---

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Satan's Last Gasp

A new day's sun was climbing up over the eastern rim of a whole world embroiled in total war.A new day that would see small triumphs, and big ones, at one front or another.And a new day that would see more war miracles performed, and more fading life for some, and sudden violent death for countless others.

A new day of war, but for Dave Dawson, and Freddy Farmer, it was not the beginning of something new.Rather, it was the beginning of the end of something old.Before that sun set in the west again they would be in Chungking, the secret document would be delivered to Generalissimo Chiang Kai-shek, and a mission that had carried them almost two-thirds of the way around the world would be all over but the shouting—and the great and deep sighs of utter relief.

"Don't say it, Dave!"Freddy Farmer spoke up as the pair stood on the edge of the Flying Tiger field at Menglien while mechanics warmed up the engines of six Curtiss P-Forties."Don't say it, for Heaven's sake.It's brought us too much bad luck already!"

"Okay, I won't say it," Dawson grunted, and gave him a side-long look."But off the record, just what in blue blazes are you yapping about?"

"Your favorite speech ever since we left Colonel Welsh!" the English youth shot back at him. "Remember? Three more laps, Freddy, old kid. Two more laps, Freddy, my boy. Just one more hop and we'll be there. And so forth, and so on? And each time you've made that little speech we've barged straight into bad business. So, for goodness sake, spare us this time. In fact, my good man, shut up, will you, until after we've landed at Chungking?"

"Okay, okay!"Dawson growled."But just the same, it's practically in the bag now, and so—"

"So shut up!"Freddy ordered him."Will you please stop defying the gods?"

"Sweet tripe!"Dawson snorted."What a superstitious mug you turned out to be.But okay.Maybe we won't ever reach Chungking!There!Does that make you happy?"

"Makes me feel worse!"the English youth snapped."Because there's no telling but what you might be right, at that!"

"Oh my gosh!"Dawson groaned, and shook his head sadly."I wonder what kind of a bug did bite you there in the jungle anyway?My guess is that the natives around these parts call it the Coo-Coo Bug.A variety of the Screwy Family, probably!"

Freddy Farmer didn't make any retort to that, because he didn't have time to.At that moment Major Brown, Lieutenant Sweeney, and two other Flying Tigers came over to join them.The A.V.G.commander looked at Dawson's hastily washed and mended uniform, and grinned.

"Sorry our home-made steam laundry couldn't do better, Dawson," he chuckled."But this is Burma, not China.Still, even at that, you'll be one of the best dressed people in Chungking, I guess.Their wardrobes have been Jap-bombed and blasted around plenty, too."

"I'm not fussy about my looks, Major," the young Yank air ace grinned back at him."Even if I get to Chungking in a barrel, it'll be okay by me.Yeah!Just so long as I get there."

"Well, don't worry about that!"Major Brown said with a vigorous shake of his head."We're practically there now.Just one more hop, and—Say!What's the matter, Farmer?You swallow something the wrong way?"

"No, no, sir!"Freddy hastily assured him, as the blood started up his neck."Just had a bad memory for a moment.No, I'm quite all right.Quite!"

"Okay, then," the Flying Tiger group leader grunted, and glanced over at the warming up P-Forties."Let's get this joy hop underway.We've got about eight hundred miles to go, but it'll be a cinch with those extra tanks fitted aboard.However, some Japs will be on the prowl, no doubt.So we'd better get on with it, so that we can get it over with, or something like that.Anyway, into your sky hacks, Gentlemen.See you all on the Chungking field, eventually."

"Fair enough!"Dawson sang out happily."Just one more—Oops!Sorry, Freddy, old pal!"

"That's more like it!"the English youth muttered, and ran over toward his plane.

If one could study the Japanese Air Force records for that particular day, one would undoubtedly find that numerous Nippon planes were in the air between Menglien, Burma, and Chungking, China.However, if one could talk with the little slant-eyed pilots of those planes, and get them to tell the truth—which, of course, would be an out and out impossibility—one would unquestionably learn that although they were in the air, the terrible fear of shark head-painted Curtiss P-Forties was in their black hearts, as well as in their heathen-brained heads!

At any rate, no Jap plane came within radio distance of that tight six-plane formation that roared up out of Burma and across the South China border.And if they did, they spotted those Flying Tigers first, and made tracks for more distant places.Twice Dawson thought he saw a few dots or so hugging some scattered clouds high up in the brassy sun-filled sky.But he couldn't tell for sure.And they might well just have been tricks of his imagination.

So finally the six-plane formation reached the broad and much bombed expanse of the Chungking Airport, circled it twice in salute, and then slid down to a perfect landing. A few moments later the pilots had taxied up to the tarmac line, and had legged out to stretch cramped and aching muscles. As for Dawson, it was all he could do to refrain from leaping out and kissing the ground, he was that joyously thankful that all was at an end, definitely. Or so he thought!

However, he curbed his impulse.He climbed down with the others, grinned happily at Freddy Farmer, and then turned to stare at the small group of Chinese military officials walking out to meet them.One, however, was in civilian clothes, and as Dawson spotted him the Yank's heart executed a perfect outside loop in dumbfounded amazement.The broadly smiling Chinese in civilian dress hurrying toward them was none other than Minister of War Soo Wong Kai!

"Good gosh, it can't be!"Dave heard Freddy Farmer gasp at his elbow."Why—why, we left him in London!"

"Yeah, I know," Dave grunted. "But I just happened to think, pal. R. A. F. planes make this hop by way of Gibraltar, Cairo, India, and so on, you know. And he didn't have any tough luck to hold him up places, probably. But heck! You should feel happy to see Soo Wong Kai, kid!"

Dawson would have said more, but at that moment the little group reached them, and the beaming Soo Wong Kai was wringing them both by the hand.

"My blessings and those of all my countrymen upon you, my dear Captains!"he said."There are not the words in all the world to express the overflowing happiness in my heart.Even death at this moment would be but death for a man whose cup of joy is filled to the brim.Again, Captains, the greetings and blessings of all China.You two shall live among her heroes forever."

"Thank you, sir," Dawson said with an effort."And I can assure you that there are not the words either to express how glad Farmer and I are to be here.Tell me, though, sir—just how much did you beat us by?"

"By only a few hours, Captain," the Chinese said with a laugh."I was delayed a short time in Calcutta.However, we meet again, and all is as it should be."

"And how, sir!"Dawson replied fervently."I—Say, I beg your pardon, sir.Permit me to introduce—"

"Major Brown, and these other Flying Tiger heroes?"Soo Wong Kai interrupted pleasantly."But I already possess the high honor of knowing them, Captain Dawson.In fact, all of the gallant Flying Tigers are my friends.How are you, Major Brown?And you, Gentlemen?"

"Very well, thank you, sir," Major Brown replied for himself, and his pilots."And delighted to meet you again.But may I ask if your journey to London was successful?"

For a moment Soo Wong Kai looked at Dawson and Farmer.Then he turned to Major Brown and smiled.

"Successful countless million times over, my dear Major Brown," he said."But I, too, must beg pardons.Permit me to present these military officials of my country.Then we will proceed to the Generalissimo's headquarters.He and Madame Chiang Kai-shek are eagerly and anxiously awaiting us at this moment."

It took a few minutes for the introductions to be made, and then all walked over to where several Chinese Army cars stood waiting.Soo Wong Kai, Dawson, Farmer, and Major Brown rode in the first car, while the other Flying Tigers and the Chinese military officials rode in the other cars.And then for the next half-hour Dawson and Freddy Farmer forgot all about the hardships and nerve-racking trials through which they had passed in the last five days, and lost themselves completely in the many and varied sights of the Far East that greeted them as the motor cavalcade made its way through the throng-packed streets of Chungking.

And then finally they approached the building that housed Generalissimo Chiang Kai-shek's headquarters.Suspended from poles above the broad steps leading up to the main doors were all the flags of the United Nations.And as Dawson caught sight of Old Glory among them something swelled up in his heart, and his eyes grew bright with deep and reverent pride.

"All for one, and one for all!"he said softly.

"Eh, what's that, Dave?"Freddy Farmer grunted in his ear.

He turned and grinned at his English pal.

"I said, this is it, kid!"he chuckled."The last stop.The end of the line, and—"

But Dawson never finished the rest of that sentence.At that exact instant a fiendish scream of rage rose high above the general murmur of the throngs gathered in front of the Generalissimo's headquarters.A horrible unearthly scream of satanic madness that chilled Dawson's blood, and made his flesh crawl.And in almost the same instant a human body came hurtling through the air.The violent movement was so sudden and so utterly unexpected that Dawson couldn't so much as move a muscle as a berserk jungle beast in human form crashed down on top of him, and drove him hard against the back of the car seat.

For one fleeting tick of a second his brain was a completely stunned blank.And then his eye caught the flash of a thin, gleaming steel blade held poised above him.But instinct was taking charge of him even as his eyes were registering the terrible truth upon his brain.Instinct that made him twist violently and crack up with one arm with every ounce of his strength.And as his upflung arm caught that screaming object under the chin, he brought up his clenched right fist with terrific battering-ram force.Pain from the blow shot clear up his arm to the elbow, but his was the fierce satisfaction of seeing that poised steel blade go flying off into space.And of seeing, also, a hideous face horribly distorted by excruciating pain.

Then in the next second he was not quite sure of just what he did see.Rather, so many things happened, and so fast, that it was practically impossible for one pair of human eyes to follow them in detail.But he did see Freddy Farmer lunge upward and grab for the choking, squealing figure still sprawled on him.And he did see the short, rotund Soo Wong Kai transform himself into a veritable pin-wheel of stabbing lightning.As though by magic, a similar steel-bladed knife appeared in Soo Wong Kai's hand.And as though by magic, also, the blade disappeared straight into the chest of the squealing, gasping figure on top of Dawson.But in the next instant the squealing figure was lifted clear by Soo Wong Kai, and hurled down onto the street beside the car.And the third bit of magic was when Chinese headquarters guards virtually materialized out of thin air and completely circled the car to protect the occupants from the chattering crowds striving to press in close.

"Holy smoke!"Dawson was conscious of his own voice choking out."What was that?And where in thunder did it drop from?What gives, anyway?"

"A last gasping effort by Satan himself!"he heard Soo Wong Kai tell him."And praise to all the gods that he failed even in this his dying effort.But his blade did not touch you, Captain?"

"Not—not quite!" Dawson gulped. "But I wouldn't want it any closer. But—My gosh! A Jap!"

Dawson popped out the last as he saw the face of the limp figure stretched out on the street beside the car.

"He is a Jap, isn't he?"he said to Soo Wong Kai."I mean, he has the face."

"He is," Soo Wong Kai told him gravely."The face, the black heart, and the mad brain of the hated enemy of my country.But cunning and great cleverness was his, too.Knoye Kyoto served his Emperor long, and well.But as to all such as he, failure and death can be his only rewards in this life."

"I say, sir!"exclaimed Freddy Farmer."You know him?"

Soo Wong Kai smiled as he nodded, but his smile was one of sadness, and a little pity.

"For as many years as you have fingers on your two hands," he replied."But no, not personally.I have known only of him, and of the real truth of his life in Europe, where he has resided for many years.There are many devils like Knoye Kyoto.To you they seem outcasts, men without a country.However, for every minute of their lives they remain obedient slaves to their masters.Yes, many of us here in China have known of Knoye Kyoto, but there was nothing we could do, and less that we could say—because it would not have been believed.However, the gods turned their smiles upon me.Quite by accident I saw Kyoto in London.It was the day after you had left.It was the day I started my journey home, with my heart bursting with prayers for your safekeeping, and arrival."

The new Chinese Minister of War paused for a moment and turned reverent eyes heavenward.

"I saw him, and then flew away in my plane," he went on presently."Then in Calcutta only yesterday I saw him again.No, that is an untruth to say that.Rather, I thought I saw him.And a great worry was mine.Could it be that he, too, was bound for Chungking?Had he slipped out of England to the Germans in France, and had they provided air passage to Calcutta?Was he bound for Chungking to strike his final blow when you two did arrive?To kill you in your moment of great glory?I asked myself that many times.And the answer was the same.It could well be true, for to the Japanese brain defeat and revenge are the same.I am as sure as I am that he is there dead in the street that Knoye Kyoto gave the orders meant to doom your mission in failure.And that he came here to get his own personal revenge in the form of your lives in the face of his own defeat.

"Yes, I thought I saw him in Calcutta yesterday.So I remained there overnight, and I sought the aid of many friends of China who could accomplish in a few hours what I personally could not have accomplished in weeks and months—a search of the city for this Knoye Kyoto.But he was not found.I realized now that he had perhaps already left before my friends started the search.But—Forgive me, I beg of you, my true and dear friends; I did not dream that he would not strike his blow until this late moment.At the airport?Yes.A possibility.But here, at the very steps of the Generalissimo's headquarters?I am overwhelmed with shame for what has happened.And I can but offer you the humble apologies of my entire life for the thoughtlessness, the stupidity, and the humiliation that I have—"

"Hold on a minute, sir!" Dawson stopped him, and grinned. "It wasn't your fault at all. Not a bit. The truth of the matter is that I've got you to thank for my life for the rest of my life. No fooling, sir. If it hadn't been for you, why—well, believe me, I—"

"Quite, sir!"Freddy Farmer spoke up as Dawson stumbled over the words to say."But for your brilliant thinking and action, there would have been terrible tragedy at the very last moment.Yes, quite!"

And then, staring hard at Dawson, the English youth added:

"Yes, tragedy for a blasted, balmy idiot who can't seem to get a bad luck speech out of that lame brain of his.This was it, was it?Last stop, eh?End of the line, was it?Why, you blithering—"

But Dave Dawson wasn't listening to Freddy Farmer.Instead he sat stiff and straight with one hand impulsively pressed against that part of his half washed and hastily mended tunic that covered the thick sealed envelope in his inside pocket, and watched with shining eyes as two of the world's most honored people, living or dead, came slowly down the steps of Chinese Army headquarters at Chungking.The Generalissimo and Madame Chiang Kai-shek!

THE END

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