Dave stopped short and asked the last because the Sergeant had suddenly stiffened and gone pale under the heavy tan on his face.
"Fancy you can speak to the Air Vice Marshal personally, sir," the Sergeant said in a hoarse whisper. "He's just behind you, waiting in the navigation compartment."
"He's what?" Dave gasped and felt his knees go rubbery and weak.
[CHAPTER FIVE]
Official Explanations
It was only the matter of a couple of seconds, but it seemed to Dave Dawson that it was a hundred years before he could dig up strength enough to turn around. When he did he saw the tall, thin faced figure of Air Vice Marshal Bostworth seated in the navigator's chair not ten feet from where he stood. The high ranking officer's eyes were slightly narrowed, and there was a glittering chill in their depths that made Dave wonder if he hadn't better just push open the Catalina's hull door and jump out to the sharks. Maybe they would be easier on him.
"Come in, you two, and shut the door!" the senior officer suddenly snapped. Then looking past the two rescued pilots, he added, "That's all, Sergeant. Tell Flight Lieutenant Baker to take off and go to maximum ceiling and cruise about until further orders. Hop to it, man!"
The Sergeant sprang into action, and so did Dave and Freddy. They stepped quickly into the navigation room and closed the door behind them. Dave gulped a couple of times and took the plunge.
"Sorry, sir, I guess I spoke out of turn," he said lamely. "It was dumb."
Air Vice Marshal Bostworth gave him a look that could cut right through steel.