"Get ready, you birds of Ferry Flight," he called in.
"All set," came back a reply in muffled tones.
O'Malley wondered who the unlucky fliers were. Some poor saps who had gotten in bad with Benson, he guessed. He bent down and shouted to the sergeant.
"How much ammunition have we?"
"From now on the ferry ships will be fully loaded. You may run into trouble, sir."
O'Malley pulled in his head and kicked on the power. He snapped a release to his mates and waited for them to get off. He had not taken the trouble to get their names, so he could not order them off one at a time. They did not seem to need any instruction. One Lightning wheeled around and roared away, followed closely by the other. O'Malley grunted his approval. The two relief men could fly.
Opening up his engines, O'Malley roared after his flight. He tried to cut across above them but had all he could do to catch up with them. In the gray dawn he saw that the two new men understood how to get speed out of a Lockheed P-38. Finally his two men eased over and let him slide in between them. They closed in, snuggling dangerously close.
"I'd thank ye for a bit more air," O'Malley growled.
"Are we crowding you, Commander?" a high-pitched voice asked.
"'Tis not crowdin' me, but I don't trust yer flyin' ability," O'Malley shot back.