"Calling Swift jet! Make emergency landing on the water!"
Tom's only response was a fresh burst of speed. Gunning the jet motors, he sent the big cargo ship arrowing forward at supersonic velocity.
"There they are!" Bud cried suddenly. He pointed to a cluster of silvery glints in the sky at seven o'clock.
Tom zoomed downward into a billowing cloud bank. It was a feeble hope and Tom knew it. His only real chance now was to outrun or outmaneuver the marauders.
The slim hope faded as they emerged from the cloud cover moments later. The enemy planes were not only still dogging them, but closing in rapidly. Sleek, needle-nosed attack ships, they appeared to have seaplane hulls.
"Wow! Those are new ones!" Bud gasped.
"Our last warning to Swift jet! Hit the water or be shot down!" came the enemy voice.
Tom raced along, his mind searching frantically for a method of escape.
Bud switched off radio power momentarily. "If we're going to be hijacked, skipper, let's ditch your invention before it's too late!"
Tom shook his head stubbornly. "Why should I let those pirates bulldoze us? Actually, I think they're after Exman!"