As Dawson spoke the last he held out his ripped tunic with his hands. He practically shoved it right under the Nazi's nose. And then, as the German automatically looked down at it, the Yank air ace practically exploded in a whirlwind of action. He flung the tunic straight into the Nazi's face. He slapped down his right hand, caught the Luger by the barrel and twisted it free. His other fist he smashed to the German's jaw, and one knee he brought up hard into the Nazi's belly. And then, in what was practically a continuation of the original movement, he reversed the Luger in his hand, half turned, and drilled a single shot at the pop-eyed Nazi sailor. The bullet hit the steel plate right behind the sailor's left ear. And that was close enough. His own gun dropped from his fingers, as he flung both hands high in terrified surrender. And the Luger had hardly struck the deck before Freddy Farmer had dived from a sitting position on the metal bench and scooped it up. But Dawson didn't see that fast bit of action. He didn't because he was busy clipping Herr Miller one for good measure on the back of the skull as the man fell down. That done with, he shot a look over at Freddy Farmer and grinned broadly.
"Nice going, pal!" he chuckled. "But I'll give you a kiss later. We've got things to do, right now. Okay, you fellows. Get behind Farmer and me. Maybe that shot of mine was heard, and we haven't got time to lose."
"But, good grief, Dawson!" Squadron Leader Hixon gasped out. "What in the world can you do? There must be thirty Nazis, at least, aboard this thing, man!"
"That's right!" Dawson shot back at him. "And I'll bet not one of them has any hankering to drown! Catch on? Okay. Stick close while Freddy and I rush the central control room. Okay, sailor! Step along ahead of me!"
As Dawson spoke the last he whipped out his free hand and caught the scared stiff sailor by the arm, and yanked him over and shoved him through the compartment door leading to amidships. He and Freddy Farmer kept right at the German's heels. Like blockers running interference for a ball carrier, they went charging into the central control room. Dawson saw the U-boat commander turn from his post at the periscope sight. He saw the anger that flooded the Nazi's face as he recognized the sailor, and right after that the look of dumbfounded fear that glazed the man's eyes as he caught sight of Dawson and Freddy Farmer right behind.
Perhaps it was just a nervous twitch of the U-boat commander's hand. Or perhaps he actually did start to reach up for his holstered Luger. At any rate, Dawson didn't wait to find out which. He squeezed the trigger of the Luger he held in his own hand, and the bullet snipped a button off the German's jacket before it smacked into the radio panel on the far side of the control room.
"Don't move, anybody!" Dawson thundered in German. "Get stupid, any one of you square-heads, and we'll all go to the bottom, to stay for good. I—"
The Yank choked off the rest, half turned, and fired the Luger. A thin-faced, hawk-nosed junior officer had tried to snatch up a gun and shoot across his chest at Dawson. His gun didn't even have a chance to go off. Dawson's bullet caught him in the chest, spun him like a top, and dumped him flat on his face, to stay there motionless.
"Anybody else want to play?" the Yank grated, and swept his eyes over the four or five other Germans in the control room. "Suits me swell, if you want to. So just start something. Go ahead, you Nazi slobs!"
There was a moment of silence, save for the whine of the electric motors driving the U-boat down below the surface. Then its commander made sounds in his throat and licked his lips.