"I'll be there, pal!" Dave cried as Freddy ducked aft.
Jerking his head front Dave fastened his gaze on the raider, shoved the control column forward and sent the Catalina thundering down in a long dive. Even before he had lost a couple of hundred feet of altitude he heard the savage ear splitting chatter of many aerial machine guns going into action. Their sound told him they were German guns. Then an instant later he heard the sharper and louder chatter of Freddy Farmer's guns giving answer.
"With Freddy back there picking them off, we're as safe as in church!" he muttered through set lips. "There isn't a guy in the whole Royal Air Force who can shoot like Freddy. He...."
Br-r-r-r-at!
The smack of a burst of bullets slapping against one of the compartment windows cut off Dave's sentence as though with a knife. He swallowed and instinctively ducked.
"And there's some lug flying for Hitler who isn't so bad himself!" he breathed and ruddered sharply to get out of the line of fire.
As the movement took him around slightly he caught sight of the raging ball of fire tumbling down out of the air toward the sea. He couldn't tell the exact type of the plane, but he knew that it was German. Freddy Farmer had scored first blood.
"And that's only the beginning, you tramps!" he howled and ruddered back toward the raider. "So why don't you guys get wise and go on home? Freddy...."
For the second time in as many minutes sound choked off the rest of what Dave was about to say. This time it was not the crack or slap of German aerial machine gun bullets. It was louder, and deeper, like the earth trembling bark of a gigantic dog. And even as the thunderous sound came to his ears he caught sight of the flame centered globs of ugly black smoke that appeared just off the right wing. And a snap, glance downward at the raider and her U-boats told him what he already knew. The German boats had broken out their anti-aircraft guns and were trying desperately to finish what the attacking long range German sea raiding planes had started.
The sky raking fire from below blasted Dave's last hope that they might still be able to fool the raider. A slim, crazy hope in view of the fact that those aboard the raider could most certainly see him roaring down at them. However, he had clung to that hope, crazy as it was. But now it was gone. Now it was a fight to the finish. German planes, U-boats, and a heavily armed sea raider against a lone R.A.F. Catalina flying boat of the Coastal Command manned by two stout hearted, do-or-die youths still in their teens.