Colonel Benson looked from one to the other of the boys. "I understand you men are accustomed to such dangerous jobs. To me it seems there is about one chance in a hundred of your even landing your parachute force."
"If there was an attack on the German field south of the place about the time we arrive, we could get in easily," Stan suggested. "I have prepared a set of maps showing good targets. The Bolero house is a hotel for German officers."
"I'll have operations chart a raid," the colonel promised. "Now I have to go. Lieutenant Wilson will be in command. I have given orders to have him supplied with what he wants." He stepped around the table and shook hands with the boys. "I'm leaving this show up to you fellows. Good luck to you." He turned and hurried out of the room.
"Sure, an' that's the first time the brass hats iver turned us loose," O'Malley said with a big grin.
"And it will likely be the last time," Allison said with a chuckle.
"We'd better be getting over to operations. Now, who's flying the Mosquito?" Stan looked from Allison to O'Malley.
O'Malley swallowed eagerly. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down, but he turned to Allison. Allison grinned at him.
"You fly the crate, old man. I'm one blighter who wants to get even for some of the slaps and kicks we got in that prison dog house."
"Sure, an' I'll be after flyin' her," O'Malley said. "But only because I'm thinkin' ye'll be needin' the best pilot in this crew at the controls o' that ship."
"You hate yourself, don't you?" Stan teased. "You fly her, but just remember, if you get into a dogfight and don't show up when we set off our flares, you'll get the beating of your life when we walk in." He grinned at O'Malley.