“I’ll see all of you men in the mess, right away.”
The fliers turned away and moved outside in a group. O’Malley growled loudly as he walked with Stan and Allison toward the barracks.
“I need food, not jawbone. I hope he makes it snappy.”
“He will,” Allison said and smiled thinly.
“You better keep your shirt on,” Stan said to Allison. “I’d like to have a couple of nights free to do a bit of snooping before you get us all tossed into a guardhouse.”
“It all depends on what he says,” Allison answered coolly.
“You see, Munson is about to blow up the squadron. That’s just what he wants to do. If we start trouble, he’ll wreck the flying strength of this outfit. In that case, he’ll have us grounded and this sector will be wide open.” Stan pressed his point home hard. “He has a reason. I think he’s being paid off. I think his credentials are faked. It’s not hard to get into an outfit like this. The Chinese need trained pilots so bad they are not apt to go deep into their past records.”
Allison swung around. “You’re right, old man. Sorry I acted like a silly goat. Let’s talk to the men.”
They entered the mess. The men stood around waiting restlessly for Munson to appear. None of the fliers seemed to want to sit down. There was a tenseness in the air and many faces showed grim anger.
Stan and Allison split up and began talking to the men. They had to make it snappy and they did. The Flying Tigers were bright boys and they were already suspicious of Munson. By the time the colonel came stamping in, the group was silently waiting and there were no mutterings.