The warrior in him was all in favor of that. Why give up without a fight? Why let these darn Nazis push them around like three rag dolls? What was there to be gained by that? Life in a Nazi prison camp at the most. Sure, life! But was that kind of life worth living? It was not! Better to die, and take some of your conquerors along with you, than to simply fold up without a single show of resistance. Heck! That was a coward's way out! That was....
The other side of Dave, though, refused to accept that as the only solution. On a thousand other occasions, sure. Fight until you could fight no more. But this was something different. This situation was the exception. There was far, far more at stake than Freddy Farmer's life, or Barker's life, or his own life. They had come over to do a definite job. They had failed to accomplish that task. They had failed because the Nazis were ready, and apparently waiting for them. Why didn't the Nazis polish them off; finish them right then and there?
It was that single question that stopped Dave from crying out the order to do battle, and let the Messerschmitts fall where they may. That one question that held back the warrior within him; that brought the leadership in him to the fore. Why did the Nazis let them live? There could be but one answer. For a very definite reason known only to the Nazis. But a very important reason, obviously.
Dave glanced once more down at the ground, then up at the mass of swastika wings that hovered just above his head like a cloud. He could almost feel countless eyes boring holes through the air down at him. Those Nazi wings were Hitler's new secret weapon? No! Those Nazi wings were the answer to the mysterious disappearance of ten Lockheed Hudsons? No? The answers were down on the ground below him. Of that he felt positive. And the Nazis wanted him alive. Okay, they could take him alive. While he had life he had hope. And while he had hope there was the chance of 'most anything happening.
That, however, was his choice. The choice for himself. But he could not make it the choice for Freddy and Barker. In his heart he could not order them to surrender. Neither could he order them to batter their wings against that wall of Nazi guns. But there was a way by which the thing could be solved. True, it might cost him his own life, but if he timed it just right, pulled the surprise at exactly the right moment an avenue of escape would be opened for Freddy Farmer and Flight Lieutenant Barker.
"Close up, fellows!" he called into his flap-mike. "Close up until you're almost touching my wingtips. Keep your engines at three quarter throttle. Follow me around. I'm going to act like I'm leading us down toward that level patch off to the left. But keep your eyes on me! When you see my nose go up, and hear my guns, pull the plug and fly dead straight ahead for all you're worth. Don't even take time to look back. Get flying, and keep flying. I'll take care of these bums, or bust. Got it straight?"
"See here, Dawson!" Barker's voice cried out in the earphones. "I won't let you throw...."
"You will, and shut up!" Dave roared back. "That's an order, Barker! You refused to give the orders, so now you take them and like them!"
"Right-o, old bean!" Barker replied. "But I won't like them, no fear."
"Just do your stuff when I give the signal, and let everything else ride," Dave grunted. "Okay, close up some more. Here we go!"