Part 9 (1/2)
”Could be, sir,” Dave replied with a laugh. ”Is that subst.i.tute plan you and the Admiral were talking about strictly hush-hush?”
”I guess there's no harm in telling you,” the colonel said after a long pause. ”Because of the size of this task force we were going to follow a roundabout route to the searching area. However, now that the j.a.ps know that we're here, and have guessed our approximate course, they'll probably have their torpedo planes and dive bombers out combing this area as soon as daylight comes tomorrow.”
”And a jolly lot of good it would do them!” Freddy Farmer said grimly.
”Probably true,” the colonel said with a faint smile. ”No doubt the chaps here on the Carson and those over on the Hawk, could make it quite a disastrous affair for the j.a.ps. But that isn't the point. Our advantage of surprise on this maneuver would be completely lost. We might even sustain some damage, and be forced to put back to port. And that, of course, is the one thing we can't afford to do. There isn't too much time on our side as it is. So the only thing we can do, now, is to carry out our subst.i.tute plan. Just as soon as darkness settles down we're going to change course to due north and sneak right up by the Solomons to the searching area. By light tomorrow we hope to be well north of the Islands and out of sight of their patrol planes based there.”
As the colonel stopped Dawson whistled softly.
”That'll be cutting it close!” he said. ”Here's hoping we don't b.u.mp into a couple of their destroyers on the prowl, and get our hand tipped.”
”Yes, here's hoping!” the colonel said almost fervently. ”If they spot us sneaking by the Islands our whole maneuver will go higher than a kite. But we've got to take that chance, and pray as none of us has ever prayed before.”
”Amen!” Freddy Farmer breathed softly.
CHAPTER EIGHT
_Eagle's Eyes_
When darkness settled down, the two-carrier task force changed course to due north, spread out considerably, and went churning forward at full knots, and with not so much as a speck of light showing any place. For a couple of hours after evening mess Dawson and Farmer loafed around on deck, as did almost everybody else who was not on duty. Little was spoken, though, in the way of conversation, and then only in low tones.
From bow to stern, and from keel to signal bridge, there prevailed an atmosphere of tense, silent excitement. Everybody aboard knew that the task force would pa.s.s almost within a stone's throw of the j.a.p occupied Solomons some time during the night. And every other split second at least a hundred pair of eyes peered out over the port rail at the wall of night to the west.
Eventually, though, the desire for sleep was stronger than the desire to remain awake just in case. And so one by one the pilots went below. And Dave and Freddy were among the first in the parade.
”This isn't any pleasure cruise, so we might as well catch all the shut-eye we can,” Dave summed it up as he stretched out in his bunk.
”It's a cinch the Admiral isn't going to send word around when we reach the closest point to the Solomons, so why stay up on deck staring at nothing but darkness?”
”Quite,” Freddy murmured. ”And if the force is sighted we'll know about it soon enough.”
”Now, isn't that a sweet thought to go to sleep on?” Dave growled, and rolled over on his side. ”See you in the morning, sweetheart. Stay up and worry if you want to. But not me!”
”Who said who was worrying?” the English youth snapped. ”I was only remarking that--”
Freddy cut himself off short and glared at Dawson's bunk. A faint snore told him that he was addressing an audience that consisted of only himself. He made a face, snapped off the light, and pulled aside the blackout curtains over the ports to let in the night air, and then stretched out himself and thought of his homeland many thousands of miles away. However, he didn't think of England for very long. Sleep soon pulled down his eyelids and off he drifted.
The next thing either of them knew was the blaring of the inter-s.h.i.+p alarm siren, and the hubbub and scuffle of activity on the deck above.
Instantly both were wide awake and leaping out of their bunks.
”Trouble!” Dave snapped. ”Let's go. Hey! It's light! We must be past the Solomons!”
”There's one way to find out!” Freddy shot back at him, and grabbed up his helmet and goggles.
Dawson, also, had slept in his clothes so as to be ready for any emergency. So he grabbed his helmet and goggles and followed Freddy out of the cabin. When they reached the flight deck it was to find that all the commotion was caused by the carrier's early patrol getting off for a quick look-see ahead. There was no sign of enemy planes in the dawn-tinted heavens. In fact, as Dawson took a good look toward all four points of the compa.s.s he realized that there was no sign of anything save the flock of s.h.i.+ps that made up the task force, and countless square miles of rolling blue-green ocean. He turned to Freddy to make some remark about the situation, but checked the words as Donald Duck blared out an announcement.
”All pilots a.s.signed to special duty will go below for breakfast, and then report to the Ready-Room for briefing!”