With coffee, hot cakes, and bacon stowed away, Jack made his way to the flight deck. There he obtained permission to take his jet plane below for study, inspection, and if need be, repairs.
He had plenty of help with this task. There wasn’t a flier or mechanic on the Black Bee who would not gladly have taken the jet plane apart piece by piece just to see what made it go.
The best mechanics on the carrier were assigned to the task of going over the plane. With an eagle eye Jack watched their every move. He made sure that the oxygen equipment was in perfect order and the tubes filled to capacity.
“You’re flying with me,” he said to Stew. “We’re to be the first scouts over the target. Those are the Commander’s orders. And we’ll go there in the stratosphere, fastest trip you ever made, if our jet plane holds together.”
“That’s Jake with me,” Stew grinned.
That was a busy day on the Black Bee. Every plane was inspected and given minor repairs. Fliers were given last day-before-the-battle instructions. Anti-aircraft crews went through dress rehearsals. Every man on the ship was on his toes and ready to go. No night before was ever like this.
That evening Jack hunted up Mary, who had joined the Medical Corps in the sick bay, and retrieved his violin.
To relieve his tension he went to the flight deck, tuned up his violin, and then walked slowly back and forth playing all the melodies he knew—while with every tune memories of other days came back.
Then he locked the violin safely in its case and wandered up for one more look at the jet plane before retiring for the night.
“Tomorrow,” he whispered.