Dave Dawson

“ Then suddenly a German mechanic seemed to rise right up out of the ground. Obviously he had been making some delayed check on the plane and was only just starting to join his comrades down at the other end of the tarmac. As he saw Dave, blank amazement flashed across his moon-shaped face. Then his eyes seemed to crackle out fire, and his mouth flew open.
Decision and action were one with Dave Dawson. He dived forward the last step and lashed out his right fist, putting every ounce of his strength in the blow. ”

“ CHAPTER ONE The Man in Gray
The four-faced clock over the information booth on the Upper Level of the Grand Central Station in New York City showed exactly twenty-five minutes after three. Dave Dawson paused in his restless pacing up and down to look at it for the hundredth time in the last half hour. He glared at it, sighed heavily, and made noises deep in his throat.
"Where is that Freddy Farmer guy, anyway?" he grated to himself. "For half an hour I've been pounding shoe leather here waiting for him. Darned if he isn't worse than a woman, not being at a place on time. ”

“ He touched Freddy's arm, put a cautioning finger to his lips, and rose slowly to his feet. Before the English youth could stop him, Dave had moved forward with the speed of striking lightning. The guard had his back to them and was staring out across the camouflaged desert camp for a moment before resuming his pacing. In that split second of time allowed, Dave Dawson acted. He flashed out his right hand and plucked the guard's Luger from its belt holster before the German realized what had happened.
"Turn, and you're a dead man!" Dave warned him in German, and backed into the tent. ”

“ Freddy Farmer presently breathed in Dave Dawson's ear. "There's nobody within a quarter of a mile, and that wind that's freshening may swing the Cat on her mooring line so's we'll have the devil's own job heading out toward open water." ”

“ Come on, Dave! Prop-wash the sleep out of your brain, will you? Lord! You're more bother than my maiden aunt!"
Dawson blinked again, started to speak, but checked himself as memory came rushing back into his brain. Instead he let out a yell, jumped off the bunk and cracked the top of his head against the bunk above. And he let out another yell.
"Doggone it!" he growled, and rubbed the top of his head. "Why don't they build these cabins big enough so a guy can move around without killing himself? Hey! Where's my tunic? Where's my cap? Hey, Freddy! ”

“ Dave Dawson growled, and rolled over to a more comfortable position in the hotel bed. "It's dear old England. A wonderful country, a great place. And you're tickled silly to be here. Okay, I agree with every word you say. God save the King, and there'll always be an England. Now, will you let a guy get some sleep?"
"But you don't understand what it means to me, Dave." Freddy Farmer spoke through the darkness from the other bed. ”

“ With that half-moon hanging up there in the sky, it's just like a picture from the brush of a great artist."
"Well, strike me pink!" young Farmer gasped as he climbed out of the jeep and gazed at Dawson. "The chap seems to have some beauty and romance in his soul after all!"
"And nuts to you!" Dave snapped as he climbed down, too. "Can't a fellow admire something without being taken for a guy with long hair who lives in a garret?"
"But the way you said it, Dave," Freddy Farmer said with a sly look in his eyes. "So soft and so deep. Do you write poetry, too, my good man?" ”

“ Dave growled. "But if it was that, we wouldn't be here. Alive, I mean. We'd be dead. Why kidnap us in the dark of night, and at a lonely spot like the one where we were? Why not just give us both the works, and be done with it? With us dead they haven't a single thing to fear about that Nazi spy being identified. Or ... oh my gosh!"
"What, Dave?" Freddy Farmer asked quickly when Dawson let out the sudden exclamation and then lapsed into a sort of breathless silence. ”

“ And all during dinner the conversation hadn't once touched on the sealed envelope still in Dawson's pocket.
Was it possible that this was just a friendly meeting? Was it possible that Colonel Welsh didn't know anything about the sealed envelope? Was it possible that the Chief of U. S. Intelligence didn't have a darned thing cooked up for Freddy Farmer and himself? Those and hundreds of other questions whirled and spun around in Dave's brain, as he relaxed comfortably in his chair and let his eyes roam absently over the well filled dining-room. ”

“ Nazi, or one of our new types? And look at those two bow guns, Dave. And.... Dave! Look at those seamen spill out of that opened conning tower hatch! They're coming out like blasted rabbits. Get closer to the thing. It's like something out of a fairy story book."
Dave Dawson only half heard his friend's exclamations, for all of his attention and his eyes were fixed on the strange craft just off and below the left wings. Just as Freddy Farmer had said, the figures of seamen were popping out of the opened conning tower hatch like rabbits out of a hat. They looked neither German nor English. ”

“ It seemed seventy miles to Dave as he and Freddy Farmer fairly flew over the ground like a couple of frightened deer. With each racing step he took he half expected to see a British soldier rise right up out of the ground and level a rifle at him. No British soldier appeared, however, and hope zoomed in Dave as he saw the tarmac guards start running in the direction of the shouts, the shots, and the flames. The thought of death was not something that held him in fear and trembling. But to be mowed down by one of your own kind was a death no man would desire, if death it must be. ”

“ Dave caught all the signals, but that's all the good it did him. He glanced at Freddy Farmer and Colonel Welsh, and knew that they were catching the signals, too, and that the code going out over the air was just as meaningless to them as it was to him.
For five minutes the redhead "talked" with the man at the other end of the wave length. Then he switched off his set, got up and turned around with a grin on his face that stretched from ear to ear.
"He thinks we're great guys," he said to his partner. "He thinks we're the nuts." ”

“ Dave suddenly heard his own voice whispering hoarsely. "It is almost too good to be true. In Germany tomorrow Der Fuehrer will declare a national holiday in your honor, I am sure. Forgive me, but I cannot help but repeat the plea that my comrade and I be given a part, if only a small one."
"Your desire to fight with us, and perhaps die, makes you very eager," the Jap murmured. And an odd note in his voice caused little fingers of ice to grab at Dave's heart. In that moment he had the sudden throat drying conviction that he had displeased the Jap by his pressing insistence. ”

“ Blessed if it's like you, Dave. Have you gone sour on something?"
"Heck, no!" Dawson cried, and sat up straight. "And don't get any dopey ideas that I feel licked about anything. I'm just biding my time, that's all. I mean, that something's bound to pop. It always has. It's just that I'm finally getting around to realizing that you can't push things along. You've just got to keep your shirt on when things get slow, and realize that there'll be plenty of fireworks sooner or later."
"Well, well, the chap must be growing up, after all," Freddy Farmer murmured. ”

“ Who knows what that cunning devil has up his sleeve? And to think we know where his confounded [Pg 148] force is! Man! I could shoot myself in despair!"
"Here, cut that out, pal!" Dave snapped. "Get that old chin up. We're still alive, and that's something."
"You wouldn't care to tell me how much, would you?" the English youth grunted.
"No, I guess not," Dawson said with a chuckle. "But you get the idea just the same. But, boy, oh boy! If we only could get word to Colonel Welsh and Admiral Jackson. Darn it, Freddy! We've got to, somehow. We've just got to!" ”

“ The English-born air ace blinked, and looked blank.
"Eh?" he echoed. "What say, Dave?"
"Just that the day will come, so help me!" Dawson answered, and leveled a stiff forefinger. "The day will come when I'll forget I like you, and will up and bust you right on your snoot. For cat's sake, Freddy! You're worse than a woman, from what I hear of them. Don't you ever shut up?"
Freddy Farmer propped a hand under his head and grinned.
"But I don't feel sleepy," he said. "I want to talk. Don't you? Now, really, you're not sleepy, are you, Dave? ”

“ If we don't get a break, it's up to us to make one. Well, it's up to us, and now, Freddy!"
"Now that you've brought up the subject, I fancy that I could find our force, too," the English youth replied with a nod. "It would be blasted close, but I think I could find it if I had to. But so what, Dave, old thing? It all boils down to the same problem we've faced since that two-faced blighter shot us down. How in the world are we going to escape?"
"Make the break, as I just said," Dawson came back quickly. Then, looking steadily at his pal, he continued, "Make a break for both of us, I hope. ”

“ Dawson grunted, and looked at his English pal. "Or else it was a left-handed order, and we're just catching on now."
"And that's a possibility, too," Freddy Farmer said with a grave nod. "But—blast it!—we're supposed to be going on leave, and to forget the confounded war for a spell—if we can. Which we won't, of course. But there should be a law against filling up a chap going on leave with mystery. There really should!"
Dave opened his mouth to speak. Instead, though, he bent his head and faked a cough while he wiped the grin from his face. ”

“ It was a jungle battle field. And the player to be "taken out" was a ruthless, butchering little brown rat of Hirohito's brood.
And he was taken out, and very definitely so. When Dawson and Freddy got quickly up onto their feet again, and Dave even had the sub-machine gun in his own hands, there was no need to give the Jap more than a passing glance. He was out! He was not only out of the war, but he was out of his heathen world as well. A broken neck is a broken neck, whether it belongs to a Jap or anybody else! ”

“ Only heavy pungent smells that hung motionless in space. And then an instant later his eyes picked out the head and shoulders of a Jap. The little brown man was facing off to the left, and his face was in only one quarter profile. But Dave could see the man's jaws champing up and down on the dry rice he had stuffed into his mouth. And by straightening up just a little, Dawson could make out the butt of the deadly sub-machine gun that the Jap held in the crook of his right arm, ready to whip it up and fire at an instant's notice. ”

“ For an eternity, it seemed, Dave stood rooted to the spot, unable to move a muscle. He knew that he and Freddy had made a fatal mistake by forgetting to remove the cork black from their faces. He knew that this man was not Jones. He was a real Nazi soldier. And Dave knew also that in the next split second the German was going to wake up the whole countryside with his wild yells, and the savage yammer of the sub-machine gun in his hands. ”

“ Quick as a flash, they shot up out of the grass and started running with every ounce of driving power in their legs. It was only some thirty yards to that One-Ten, but Dave felt as though he weren't covering more than a couple of inches of ground with every stride. A thousand torturing thoughts whipped through his brain, and with every stride he expected to hear the yammer and chatter of many machine guns blazing away at him. ”

“ If not, then you've got to keep them at a safe distance with your rear guns. So I'll fly for us, and you fight for us. That's the way it has got to be."
"Right you are, Dave!" the English youth called forward to him. "I'll—Oh, good gosh! [Pg 205] Dave! How about your radio? Has it got a mike?"
Impulsively Dawson switched his gaze to his radio in the front pit. And it was then that he had the queer feeling of lumps of cold lead bouncing around in the pit of his stomach. There were earphones for the radio, but no mike. ”

“ Forty-five minutes later Dawson and Freddy Farmer were back on the flying field, grinning from ear to ear, and walking over toward the Operations Office.
"Boy! Do I feel like a new man!" Dave said, and let out a happy sigh. "I sure was worried while that call was being put through. Not that I don't like Dago, you understand. ”

“ Dawson said. "Everything looks like it's been sunk to the bottom. Heaven knows but what that Nazi rat has tossed half a dozen water flares over the side by now. But ... well, until I'm dead and gone I'll never give up trying, at least. No matter how much of a fool I've made of myself to date. Besides, there's always the chance that something lucky for us might happen."
Freddy Farmer made an angry gesture with his hands as Dawson paused.
"If you've got something to say, Dave, for heaven's sake then say it!" he bit off. "What are you working up to, I'd like to know? ”

“ You need somebody to hold your hand. Oh, well, I'll be glad to do it, because I like you, little boy. Hey!"
Freddy caused the exclamation, because as he straightened up he stepped hard on Dave's foot, then broke into a sprint for their living quarters. The English youth won by a good three yards. He was inside and hauling out his suitcase as Dave came bursting in. He glanced up with a look of mock concern on his face.
"Something wrong, Dave?" he murmured. "Is a Jerry chasing you?"
"Just a pal!" Dave growled, and limped toward his own bunk. ”