Our Ally, Our Enemy (Moon Brothers WWII Adventure Series Book 3) by William Peter Grasso

Author:William Peter Grasso [Grasso, William Peter]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: UNKNOWN
Published: 2017-09-21T22:00:00+00:00

Fueling the aircraft for the flight to Vienna had taken far too long, as far as Tommy was concerned. He was anxious to get on with the mission of coordination in the air between the Russian and Western Allied Air Forces in the vicinity of the German/Czech/Austrian borders, as his orders proclaimed.

Or, as he put it, keeping the damn Russians the hell out of our way.

Not that I have a clue how to do that at the moment.

But at least they were finally airborne.

The bomber pilot’s excuse for the lengthy fueling delay made sense, though: “We need to tanker fuel for the trip back so we don’t have to worry about refueling in Vienna. No telling what those Russkies are using for gasoline. Don’t want any engines crapping out over Indian country on the way home. It’s the same for the escort fighters…they’ll hold on to those drop tanks unless we get into a tangle along the way.”

Mason made a few trim adjustments before turning the flying over to his co-pilot. Then he asked Tommy, “You say you’ve run into Russian fighters over Germany? What kind of range do those birds have, anyway? That’s like an eight hundred-mile round trip, not counting the gas for any fight they might get into.”

Tommy replied, “We’ve been asking ourselves that same question. It’s one of the mysteries about our Russian friends I’m supposed to unravel in great detail.”

They were thirty minutes into the two-hour flight, one that would take them four hundred miles over the southern forests of Germany before following the Danube as it threaded between the Alps and the Šumava Mountains of Czechoslovakia. They’d leveled off at an altitude of 10,000 feet, low enough not to need oxygen. A moot point, anyway; the aircraft wasn’t equipped with an oxygen system. But it was high enough to give them a chance to see intercepting aircraft a long way off. While they were still within easy range of large-caliber flak guns, at least they’d be relatively safe from smaller anti-aircraft weapons.

“Hey, Tommy,” Mason said, “that knee of yours. Are you going to be able to bail out if we get into trouble?”

“It’s really not that bad. Won’t be a problem. The only time I ever had to jump, I managed to do it with a broken arm. A wrenched knee isn’t going to stop me.”

The bomber pilot nodded, suitably impressed.

As Tommy returned to the cold and drafty aft fuselage, Oliver Hammersmith posed a question: “You know, Moon, you’ve never told us what you bring to the table for this mission. Don’t you think we deserve to know?”

“Yeah, I suppose you do,” Tommy replied. “In all honesty, though, I can’t give you a definitive answer, aside from the fact that I’ve had to deal with Russian planes harassing my flight twice.” He motioned to the Frenchman and added, “J.P. has experience in this area, too. And there’s one more thing—according to these orders, we’re supposed to compare notes with the Russians about dealing with the German jet aircraft.

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