"Don't build up any false hopes," Stan warned.
"Did he send you after us?" O'Malley demanded.
"He did," Stan said.
O'Malley leaned back and licked his lips. He closed his eyes so as to be better able to get a mental picture of the pies awaiting him.
Stan eased down a bit and called to Allison for a check on their location and course. Everything looked fine and fair, but Stan knew that it was at such times that trouble usually popped.
Messina was easily located as they came in at low altitude because the Yank and British batteries on the island were shelling the German-held port of Reggio across the two-mile strait. Flares were blossoming along the mainland, dropped by Yank fliers. Allison got in touch with their field and they came in. The air traffic was heavy and the field was a beehive of activity. No special attention was given the De Havilland except by the crew assigned to take her over. They came racing out to make her fast.
The master mechanic grinned at Stan as he jumped down. "Good work, sir," he said eagerly. The Mosquito was his pet and he had worried about her all the time she was away. After finding out where she was going he had been sure she would never get back.
Stan smiled at him. "She's home without a scratch, and she's a great ship, sergeant," he said.
The sergeant beamed happily. "She sure is, sir," he agreed proudly. Then he added, just having remembered the important message he was to deliver to the bomber's skipper, "Colonel Benson wishes to see your entire crew as soon as you land." He snapped a salute and turned to his crew.
"Sure, an' I'm starved. I'm hopin' he won't give us a two-hour lecture on how to invade Italy," O'Malley grumbled.