The Dive Bomber Read Online Free PDF Page B

Navy can do that. How about it, Lawson?”
    Lawson shuddered. Strange people, these test pilots!

CHAPTER FIVE
    Falling Wings
and a Lost Ship
    A S calm as though about to take a ride in a sightseeing bus, instead of a man-killing dive bomber, Lucky Martin hauled his helmet over his tousled brown hair and buckled the straps under his big chin.
    â€œAll through in a couple of hours,” said Lucky, “and happy days are here again.”
    â€œYou’ve got a tested chute?” said Dixie.
    â€œSure, but I won’t need it.”
    â€œDon’t tempt fate,” pleaded Dixie, shivering although the day was warm. “You…you’re all I’ve got now.”
    â€œYou’ll have a fortune to boot very shortly,” grinned Lucky. “Did I ever let anybody down?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œThen I never will. That little ship out there is as tough as a mustang, rarin’ to go. Solid as the Rock of Gibraltar .”
    â€œI never—” said Dixie, feebly trying to cheer herself up by uttering an ancient aviation joke, “I never saw the Rock of Gibraltar in a power dive, so I don’t know.”
    â€œAtta girl. Put on your earmuffs and keep the liniment handy for your neck. When I start down, you’re going to see something!”
    â€œI hope not. Lucky—”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œCan’t you ease her off at seven Gs ? Can’t you pull her punches a little?”
    â€œThe smoke meter in that crate won’t lie and if she can’t take it, we’ll want to know before we start production.”
    â€œThen you’ll try to pull her apart?”
    â€œSure I will, but she won’t. Honey, that’s my job. If they won’t pull with me in the pit, they won’t pull at all. Rough Rider , that’s me. But if she does—”
    â€œThen you think it might go to pieces…?”
    â€œNo. It can’t! There’s the commander and the observers. Flynn! Rev her up, and let’s have a listen at her.”
    Flynn, in the office, heeled the brakes and jabbed the throttle. The engine bellowed sweetly and then died off to a clicking murmur.
    â€œOkay,” said Flynn, surrendering his place and climbing down. “Give it hell, Lucky.”
    â€œAll set,” said Lawson.
    Lucky reached out of the pit and gave Dixie’s shoulder a reassuring shake. She managed a smile and he grinned back. Pulling the hood down over him, Lucky taxied into the wind, saluted the crowd, shoved upon throttle and stick and lanced down the runway and away from earth.
    Evans, the mechanic, tried to look uninterested.
    The dive bomber climbed as fast as a sixteen-inch shell—and fully as loud.
    Anacostia tumbled away so quickly that it appeared in need of a chute. The Capitol and parks dwindled in size as though sprinkled with alum . The Washington Monument receded until it was nothing more than a toothpick stuck in a green carpet.
    Bridges were black lines across the silver Potomac and the cars upon them were something less than moving periods.
    To the south, Alexandria was enveloped in a haze. To the northeast, Baltimore was a black smudge. The rolling green of Maryland was laid out like a quilt, tacked to brown Virginia with blue tape.
    Ten thousand, fifteen thousand, eighteen thousand.
    Lucky went around three times, admiring the view through the glass of the hood, incidentally noting that the air was clear of ships under him.
    He examined his neat cockpit, to make certain that everything was lashed down. That was necessary, because loose objects would float in front of his face when he started the dive.
    For an instant he had an odd feeling in the region of his heart. A premonition reared black and ugly within him. He mopped at his face, although it was cold so high in the air.
    What was the matter with him? He’d done this half a hundred times before. Wasn’t he Lucky Martin? Other men might die, but hadn’t he always