oss his
hatch cover, zooming up at the droning bombers. A second later he
sighted a big Dornier just as she lurched upward in a frantic effort to
avoid Allison's Brownings.

A half-smile came to the lips of Stan Wilson. Everything they had said
about March Allison was correct. He was a demon in the air. Stan shot
his Spitfire up at the belly of the floundering Dornier. He had no time
to play spectator. Pressing the gun button he felt the kick of his eight
Brownings as they drilled away. Pinkish flames spurted from the
mid-section of the bomber as it whirled about, sliding off on one wing
with flames, red now, belching out of it. It turned over and four men
tumbled out. Stan watched long enough to see their chutes blossom
against the red glow of gunfire from below. He was glad that the crew
had been able to bail out.

On his right Stan saw tracer bullets from Allison's guns. He made out a
dark hulk twisting and turning, then the hulk was lighted as the Nazi
craft went down in flames. He couldn't spot Tommy as he zoomed upward
and in a split second he lost Allison. Circling, he throttled down and
let the Spitfire cruise. A chill feeling gripped the pit of his stomach.
This was new stuff for him. He was out in the darkness roaring in a
steep circle, looking for another bomber, but mostly waiting to hear
Allison's voice. He knew the unseen cables were swaying and reaching,
eager to knife him or to snarl his plane. Losing a wing wouldn't be as
bad as having the cable come down on you. If you tangle in a cable you
can't bail out. Stan peered down at the muck of shellfire below. He knew
he wouldn't be able to hit the notch without help from at least one of
the veterans.

Then he saw a searchlight beam pick up a dark shape below. It was a
bomber going down to unload. Stan nosed over and sent the Spitfire down
in a screaming dive. The flaming field of muck leaped up to meet him and
shells burst close. As Stan closed in on the dive bomber it suddenly
seemed to explode in his face.

Instantly Stan knew the cables had gotten the bandit. Frantically, he
pulled the Spitfire up and sent her roaring toward the ceiling. He
sucked in his breath as he brushed past one of the bloated gas bags.
That was a score for the Ack-Ack gunners and the ground boys. Then he
heard Allison's voice, cool and cheerful.

"Come in close, Red Flight. Somebody got two bandits. Who got two
bandits?"

Stan slid over and down, sure now of his position. A