[CHAPTER FOURTEEN]
Sky Doom
Angry black storm clouds swept far to the roar of the Consolidated Catalina flying boat. Brilliant sunshine bathed the craft in its warm glow from the hull nose clear back to the tail, and from wingtip to wingtip. Below and just ahead heaving seas caused by the passing storm were slowly subsiding. Patches of white foam were fast disappearing; dissolving into thin air under the steady rays of the sun.
"It should be soon, Dave," Freddy presently broke the silence in a strained voice. "And if it isn't, I swear I'll blessed well blow my topper!"
"Keep your shirt on, pal," Dave grunted good-naturedly. "We can travel plenty fast, remember. That raider is in the water, not in the air with wings. It'll take time for her to get clear. How about trying a check on her?"
"I did just a moment ago," the English youth replied. "The signals were clear as a bell. She's traveling under forced draft, and her commander begged me not to lose touch with the convoy. He also wanted to know if British navy boats and aircraft were escorting the convoy."
"And you told him?" Dave murmured.
"Same as the first message I tried to get through to him, of course," Freddy said in a slightly hurt tone. "No escorting aircraft as yet, as the convoy hasn't reached the rendezvous point. And that there're only two Corvettes leading the merchant ships."
"Beautiful, if he only swallows it, which I guess he's done," Dave said with a chuckle. "Boy, what a nice surprise that guy's going to get! He figures that he's going to sneak up on the unprotected rear of that convoy and go through it like hot coals through snow. Instead, though, he's going to plow right into a mess of screaming shells from British navy guns, and depth charges, and bombs, and everything else. If only they can ring those U-boats before they duck down deep and skip away."
"The boys of the Fleet Air Arm will take care of that," Freddy said confidently. "They'll be up aloft, and they'll spot the raider long before she spots them. They'll give the range to the gunners on the ships, and then dive bomb the U-boats before they hardly have time to stick their noses under."
"Well, you sure make it listen good," Dave grinned. "And I'm keeping my fingers crossed that you're right. Eureka! Pay me the five pounds, Freddy! Look off down there. Just to the left of that patch of cloud scud. It's a ship. It's our raider, Freddy! See? See? Her U-boats are all on the surface. See those globs of grey in fan shape formation a quarter of a mile astern of her. Freddy! That's her, and no kidding about it!"