"Two bandits coming out of a cloud, quarter right," Allison's drawl announced.
Stan spotted the two Heinkel bombers as soon as Allison spoke. They were slim-bodied, snaky-looking killers with long wings and widespread tail structures. Their pilots hadn't seen the three Spitfires as yet, being busy spotting the sleek destroyer.
When they did see the danger they zoomed up and laid over, plunging back into the cloud. Stan drove straight after them because he was in the best position. O'Malley swept around one side of the cloud and Allison went around the other.
Stan had a chance to test his guns as his upward zoom rode him up on a ghostly form ahead in the mist. The eight Brownings drilled furiously, in perfect timing. The Heinkel nosed down and vanished into the wall of fog. Stan went down to see if he had done any damage.
Breaking into the clear he saw blossoms of white silk dotting the green of the sea. The bombers were gone but Stan knew from the number of chutes floating down to the water that both Heinkels had been bagged.
Below them two motor launches were slicing across the channel getting set to pick up the Jerries and make them prisoners. Then he heard O'Malley's voice.
"Sure, an' I'm thinkin' I see four Messers off the port wing."
"Coming up with you," Allison called back. "Take them, Irisher."
"Wilson coming up," Stan shouted into his flap mike.
He went up and over a cloud and down on the other side. He saw O'Malley drilling away to the south like an irate bumblebee. Close behind him streaked Allison. Stan headed after them. Then Allison's voice came in very softly: