“Did you engineer this, Wilson?” he asked.
“I did not ask to be put in command, if that’s what you mean,” Stan answered.
“You act like you thought you had to take over here,” Sim said and his eyes blazed.
“Wilson has forgotten more about flyin’ than you’ll ever know,” O’Malley cut in. “And ye better remember that.”
“Easy, now. This is a teamwork job,” Stan said. “Your orders are to cover our long-range ships. They’ll be heavy and gas logged. My planes have to get to use all of that extra gas, Sim. What we’re doing is trying to break the jinx on the fighters.”
“Yeah? It smells bad to me. I think you’re trying to get yourself an extra bar on your shoulder.”
Stan’s lips pulled into a straight line. “I don’t care what you think of me, personally, but you better cover my flight, and cover it right.”
The other fliers were staring at the two officers. They had worked under Sim Jones a long time. Stan was a newcomer the same as Colonel Holt; both had seen much service in other theaters of war. Stan sensed that they were siding with Sim. He turned away and began getting into his outfit. O’Malley was beside him.
“That bird may try something,” O’Malley said out of the side of his mouth.
“We sure slipped up when we didn’t let him tell this plan to the colonel,” Stan said sourly.