“Wilson coming up,” Stan shouted into his flap mike.
He went up and over a cloud and down on the other side. He saw O’Malley drilling away to the south like an irate bumblebee. Close behind him streaked Allison. Stan headed after them. Then Allison’s voice came in very softly:
“I think you’re seeing things, Irisher.”
Stan grinned as he shoved the nose of the Spitfire down a little. O’Malley was duck hunting. He didn’t aim to go back without some more action if he could help it.
“Red Flight, come in. Red Flight, come in,” droned a voice from the field.
“Red Flight in contact with bandits!” O’Malley roared back.
“Red Flight, come in. Red Flight, come in,” headquarters insisted.
“Red Flight going into defense,” Allison cut in.
Stan’s grin widened. Allison was going to see that O’Malley got his duck hunt. They roared on, swinging in a wide circle, beating upward again. O’Malley would have his way now. Allison couldn’t argue with headquarters listening in.
Stan began to think they were stymied when all Hades broke loose from above. Out of nowhere five Messerschmitts came roaring down on them, three One-Nines and two One-Tens.