O’Malley smiled at his two fliers. “Sure, an’ ’tis very ungrateful some people are. We risk our necks to deliver these crates an’ get a sour welcome.” He turned and walked away. The captain stood staring after him. He had not met a man like O’Malley before. Usually ferry pilots were not given to back talk.
The transport was waiting. O’Malley and his pals climbed in among an assortment of equipment and supplies being returned to base. In a short time they were back at their own briefing room. Three planes were ready and they took off again.
All day they ferried Lightnings across to Malta and not once did they sight enemy craft. O’Malley was wild when they checked in for the evening. He glared at the grinning Captain Marks.
“Sure, an’ something better bust loose tomorrow,” he cried.
“Probably will,” Marks answered.
O’Malley stomped away to quarters. Wilks and Liske dashed off to put in for an immediate transfer to more active duty. O’Malley hoped they got the transfer. He knew there was not much chance of him getting shifted, not as long as Colonel Benson was in command.
CHAPTER III
REUNION
Stan and Allison sat in the big Lockheed transport and looked down upon the shores of Africa. A coastal road wound along the beach. It was war-scarred and still littered with broken tanks and shattered trucks. This was the route Rommel had taken in his flight across Libya.
“Wonder what O’Malley’s doing about this time?” Stan asked. He was beginning to be sorry he had accepted the offer to return to Alexandria. O’Malley likely was leading a flight over the shores of Italy.