CHAPTER FOUR
_Action Bound_
"Flight to nowhere, eh? What the blasted blue blazes did he mean bythat? Is this thing going to be fitted with wings, or something, I'dlike to know?"
It was Freddy Farmer who spoke the words. With Dave Dawson, and some twodozen Army, Navy, and Marine Corps pilots, he stood on the deck of anAmerican destroyer steaming out of Sydney into the Tasman Sea at fullknots. Just five hours ago they had met Colonel Welsh at H.Q., and--andlearned nothing except that they were going on a flight to nowhere.Shortly after the Colonel had imparted to them that choice bit of"secret information," he had sent them on their way to enjoy the sightsof Sydney for a few hours, and then to report to a certain Army pier atsuch and such a time.
Well, they had seen most of the sights of Sydney in a restaurant whereFreddy Farmer was at least happy, because the place was stocked with farmore food than he could possibly eat at one sitting. And when it waspractically coming out of his ears, they left the place and took a shortwalk about town. At the proper time they reported to the pier where abunch of Army, Navy, and Marine Corps pilots were already gathered.Everybody was full of questions, but there wasn't a single answer in thewhole crowd. Then presently a sleek, battle grey destroyer slid in andtied up long enough for the whole gang to be taken aboard. And now thedestroyer was cleaving the night-blackened waters of Sydney Harbor andsending spray flying well back over the bridge.
"Don't ask me, sweetheart," Dawson grunted, and stared down at the blackwaters swirling past the destroyer's hull. "Could be they're going totake us out and drown the lot of us. How do I know?"
"Well, you could at least be helpful enough to make a sensible guess!"Freddy snapped. "Confound you Yanks, anyway! I never saw such mysteriousbusiness!"
"Listen to the guy!" Dawson hooted. "You forget I've been to England,and served in the R.A.F. with you. For cat's sake, it usually takes aton of TNT to get an Englishman to open his mouth long enough to admitthat the sun is shining. Us Yanks mysterious? Pal, we're blabber-mouthscompared with your British Intelligence Service. And don't argue withme, because I've had experience, I have!"
"Rot!" the English youth growled. "But never mind, anyway. The point is,where are we going?"
Dawson said nothing. He just leaned a bit more over the chain railing,and stared down at the water.
"Well, can't you make a guess?" Freddy insisted.
Dave started to shake his head, but on second thought checked himself.He turned and peered at Freddy in the gloom.
"_I_ don't have to guess, Freddy," he said quietly.
Young Farmer stiffened, caught his breath in a gasp, and leaned close.
"What's that, Dave?" he breathed excitedly. "You know? You know wherewe're going?"
"Yes, I know," Dawson murmured, as though it were the most natural thingin the world for him to know. "Sure, I know, pal."
Freddy Farmer waited just two split seconds before he practicallyexploded in a shower of small pieces.
"Then for goodness' sake, tell me, Dave!" he choked out. "Don't keep melike this, blast you! _Where are we going?_"
"You want to know, huh?" Dave echoed, and bent his head close to Farmer."You want to know where we're going? Well, see where my hand ispointing? Out there beyond the bow of this tub? Well, we're going outthere, sweetheart."
Freddy groaned, choked and spluttered, but before he could spit out asingle word, Dawson pushed back the cuff of his jacket to reveal hiswrist watch. The radium-treated dial showed that it was exactly fiveminutes to midnight.
"So that makes us one all for the day, Freddy," he chuckled. "I told youI'd get you to bite on something before the day was over. I warned youto keep up on your toes. Okay, and not sore, huh?"
"Just plain disgusted, you blighter!" Freddy snarled. "Man! Why I put upwith you day after day, I don't know!"
"Maybe it's love," Dave chuckled, and jumped quickly as the Englishyouth aimed a booted foot.
Freddy's foot didn't connect with certain places, however. And he didn'tmake a second try. He simply snorted to himself and joined Dave instaring silently down at the black water flowing past. For perhaps someten of fifteen minutes neither youth said anything. Each seemed to bequite content with his own thoughts. Eventually, though, Dave broke thesilence.
"Well, there's one thing, anyway, Freddy," he said. "Wherever we'regoing, we're going to get there soon, I guess."
"Would that be the beginning of another side-splitting act of yours?"Freddy growled. "And what do you mean by it, anyway?"
"It's the detective in me," Dawson replied, unruffled. "Here we are on adestroyer heading out to sea in pitch darkness, but I haven't beenassigned any place to sleep, have you?"
"By Jove, that's right, Dave!" young Farmer exclaimed excitedly. "Wehaven't, have we? Good grief! Do you suppose this is taking us to NewZealand, and we've got to ride on deck all the way?"
Dawson didn't answer for a moment. He threw back his head and stared upat the trillions upon trillions of stars that glittered and gleamed inthe jet black sky.
"My celestial navigation tells me we're headed more toward New Caledoniathan New Zealand," he said. "But I'll bet you a pair of flying gogglesthat we're not going to either of those places."
"I won't take the bet, because you're too blasted lucky," Freddy spokeup quickly. "But anyway, why didn't you think so?"
"Well, I got hit by a sudden hunch, while we were waiting on the pierfor this tin can to tie up," Dawson said slowly. "And I got chewing thefat with some of the others there. Know something, Freddy?"
"Well, I will after you tell me, of course," the English youth replied."What?"
"Keep your shirt on; a guy has to take a breath now and then, you know!"Dave grunted. "Well, I didn't run into a single guy who hasn't had someexperience flying off an aircraft carrier. If you want my guess, it'sthat this load of pilots is being taken out to some carrier forcewaiting way off shore."
"I wonder, I wonder!" Freddy Farmer murmured after a long pause. "Whywould a carrier force be so top hat as not to come in and get us, I'dlike to know?"
"Call it 'high hat' next time, Freddy," Dave corrected gently. "Whitefolks will think you're English, if you--"
"Now, look out, my good man!" Freddy began menacingly. "I'll have youknow that I'm--"
"And I don't blame you for being proud that you're English, pal," Davebroke in with a chuckle. "So would I be, if I wasn't Yank. Okay, skipthe funny crack. The reason a carrier force wouldn't come in to pick usup is probably because of that one word pronounced _spies_! One thing wewant to keep plenty secret out here in the Southwest Pacific is thelocation of our carrier task forces. So we were loaded aboard this tincan at night, and are being sneaked out to one. Catch on?"
"Not definitely," Freddy Farmer muttered, and scowled in the darkness."Seems to me that a carrier task force at sea would have its own pilots,and what not. Besides, a lot of us aboard this destroyer are Army AirForces pilots."
"So what?" Dave said, and shrugged. "So maybe the Navy needs help in theair, and knows just where to get it."
"Better keep those remarks under cover, or a certain Army pilot may bereported lost overboard!"
Dave jumped straight up at the sound of the voice at his elbow, andwhirled around in midair. When his feet came back on deck again he sawColonel Welsh standing in front of him.
"Gosh, you scared me, Colonel!" he gasped. "I thought a Navy pilot _had_overheard me!"
"Good thing one didn't," the senior officer chuckled. "Plenty of rivalrybetween you Army and Navy pilots. And I'm afraid there are hot heads onboth sides. Well, how are you enjoying a ride on a destroyer, eh?"
"Oh, just too, too wonderful, sir!" Dawson replied with a groan. "But Ididn't see you on the pier, Colonel. When did you come aboard? At thelast minute?"
"No, I came aboard much earlier," the Colonel replied. "I've been up inthe commander's quarters."
"Er ..." Freddy Farmer began, and faltered. "I mean," he began again, "Idon't suppose he told you, sir, where
we are headed?"
The colonel laughed and shook his head.
"He didn't have to, Farmer," he replied. "You see, I already knew. Buthold on with your questions, because I don't mind telling you, now thatwe've shoved off. We're making for a rendezvous with a carrier taskforce a couple of hundred miles out to sea. We should contact it justabout dawn. You chaps, if you want to sleep, will have to do it on thedeck, I'm afraid. I wouldn't advise it, though, the way this ship issmashing the swells. And the commander says that it will be even rougheroutside."
"Thanks, I think I'll stay awake," Dawson laughed. Then, in a serioustone, "And when we reach the carrier task force, sir?"
"Why, we go aboard, of course," the colonel replied. "There are twocarriers. The Hawk, and the Carson. Half of you will go to one, and halfto the other."
"And then, sir?" Dave persisted.
"For military reasons, Dawson, I'm afraid I didn't hear you," the seniorofficer replied. "Count on it for something interesting, though. And noteasy by any manner of means. Fact is, all this may be simply thebeginning of a very costly waste of time, and effort."
The Chief of Combined U.S. Intelligence spoke the last while staringflint-eyed out over the rail, and as though he were repeating his ownthoughts aloud to himself. A million questions piled up on the tip ofDave's tongue. And it was the same with Freddy Farmer. However, neitherone of them spoke for fear it might stop the Colonel from saying more.However, they were both out of luck. The senior officer grunted, shookhimself a little, and turned to them with a smile that showed his evenwhite teeth even in the gloomy light.
"Well, I wish I had time, now, to get a first-hand report from you boysof that trip to Chungking you made," he said. "And your experiences withthe Flying Tigers. However, I only popped out for a breath of air.There's still a lot of paper work for me to do. I'll be seeing you soon,though; don't worry. A lot of you, probably, as I'll be aboard yourcarrier, the Carson. Until then, good luck!"
Dave groaned, but not loud enough for Colonel Welsh to hear as he walkedaway.
"Even him!" Dave sighed. "Good luck to you, and good luck to you--andnuts! If anybody should suddenly say, 'Bad luck' to me just once, Ithink I'd keel over in a dead faint!"
"Oh, come off it, Dave!" Freddy grated. "What do you expect folks tosay? Man, but you're getting to be a testy blighter! So we are going to acarrier task force, eh? Well, I'll have to admit that for once you wereright. But I certainly wish he'd told us more."
"And you can repeat that!" Dave grunted. "And all this may be simply thebeginning of a very costly waste of time and effort. That, my littlefriend, did not sound so nice to me. It didn't even sound close tonice."
"Quite," Freddy said with a little sigh. "But nothing's nice about thisblasted war, you know. So we might just as well make the best of it.And--"
The English youth choked off the rest as the alarm horn sounded aboardthe destroyer, and the craft seemed virtually to spin around to port thelength of her keel, and then fairly streak across the water.
"The submarine detector has picked up something, I guess!" Davemuttered, and took a firmer grip on the chain rail. "Now, wouldn't it besweet to get torpedoed even before we get any place?"
"You say the happiest things!" Freddy got out in a slightly strainedvoice. "Shut up, and use your eyes. Maybe we'll sight something."
"In this darkness?" Dave echoed, and promptly leaned over the chain railand strained his eyes at the black water beyond the bow. "Don't besilly. Not unless it's trimmed with neon lights."
For perhaps five minutes the destroyer pounded through the night sea atemergency knots. Then the all clear horn sounded again. The destroyer'sspeed slackened off slightly, and her bow came cutting around to theprevious course. A faint sigh of relief seemed to whisper along thespray-drenched decks. And then presently everything was as normal asbefore.
"Probably one of ours," Dave grunted. "Or just a false alarm. But eithersuits me okay. There's something about getting torpedoed and drownedthat I just don't like."
"Quite, oh quite!" Freddy Farmer echoed. "If a chap has to cop one, muchbetter to cop it in the air. Definitely cleaner, you know."
Dave nodded, but didn't make any comment. And once more the two air aceslapsed into silence and stood at the chain rail peering out over thenight-shrouded waters, each with the same thought unspoken in his mind.Way out there ahead were two Yank aircraft carriers waiting to take themaboard. And when that was accomplished, then where to next? Atantalizing question that only time would answer for them. And thesmirking gods of war, too, of course, if the two youths could but heartheir death rattle voices!