“If necessary, but I understand you are a stunting fool. You shouldn’t have to fire a shot on any trip. The planes are not to be shot up. They are for combat use in the invasion.”
O’Malley was on his feet. “Foine,” he said sweetly. “’Tis a nice job, sor, an’ I’m appreciatin’ it.”
The captain fixed him with a suspicious eye. This ferry job had been tough to fill. It was vitally important and demanded experienced fighter pilots, but none of the men wanted it. Captain Marks had not been able to get a single man to accept the job. He was relieved when the colonel had sent over word that O’Malley would serve as flight leader. But he still had to locate two men to work with the Irishman. O’Malley was taking the whole thing too nicely. Captain Marks was worried. He knew O’Malley’s reputation and he had picked up a few hints of how O’Malley had been assigned to the job.
“I’ll give you the names of your crew as soon as I get them lined up,” the captain said gruffly.
“Shanghaied you mean,” O’Malley said in a honeyed tone.
“The colonel will locate a couple for me,” the captain answered with a grin.
O’Malley grinned back at him. “I know a couple I wish you could get hold of,” he said. He turned around and walked out of the office.
For a full five minutes O’Malley stood outside the office looking out toward the blue Mediterranean. There was a deep scowl on his face. Finally he sauntered into the mess and seated himself near a window. Elevating his feet, he closed his eyes and took a nap.
He was awakened by an orderly. The soldier saluted smartly and said:
“You are wanted at operations, sir.”