Allison grinned. “Yes, that report came in with your credentials. I took it out of the file to have a bit of sport with you. It was dumb of me to forget to replace it. But you were so stubborn over the whole matter I didn’t feel you needed to know.”
Garret got to his feet. His face was white and his voice was not very steady. “I merely did my duty as I saw it, sir. I had no way of knowing what was in the report Allison has laid before you. I ask leave to retire.”
“Stay where you are. I want to talk to you,” the O.C. snapped.
Stan got to his feet. Milton was thumping him on the back and O’Malley was grinning like a wolf. Milton rumbled in his deep voice:
“I said it all smelled fishy to me.” He turned to the O.C. “Wilson is the best test pilot that ever stepped into a plane.”
“Allison’s comin’ back in a couple days an’ Red Flight goes out in Spitfires,” O’Malley broke in eagerly. “Sure, an’ there’s no war on over in America. ’Tis right here you’ll be staying or I’ll give you a fine dusting when we get outside.”
“I’m staying until the war is over. In a way I figure it’s our fight, too, sir. If you don’t mind, I’ll stay in Red Flight.”
“Mind! I’ll recommend you for top honors.” The O.C. was beaming.
An orderly stepped into the room and laid a report on Farrell’s desk. He glanced at it, then picked it up. A minute later he pounded the desk with his fist and began to laugh.
“This report says His Majesty’s carrier, Staunch, has on board a new type of dive bomber which put a pocket battleship out of action and later landed upon the deck of the carrier. The commander considers the plane so valuable he is putting in to deliver it.”