The Professionals by Max Hennessy

Author:Max Hennessy
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Canelo
Published: 2020-04-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 6

‘Got home a week ago,’ Sykes said. ‘Went to Hathersett for a day or two to see Jane. Cracking girl.’

It didn’t hurt me any more to hear him say such things and I grinned with him, delighted for them both.

He looked no different from before – bland and confident, a self-assured member of the upper classes. So upper, there wasn’t a trace of snobbery or side about him. There didn’t have to be. He was so upper he was almost out of sight to most people and he didn’t have to do any pretending.

‘How about you?’ he asked. ‘You got a girl yet?’

‘Not yet.’

‘Not even Cousin Charley?’

I smiled. ‘Not even Charley. She’s a nice girl…’

‘—but she’s not the right one.’ He shrugged. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘we always did say in the family that Charley was destined to marry a duke. Got that sort of brain. Ah, well’ – he slapped my shoulder – ‘have to start soon, y’know. After all, they’ve got you drinking and smoking – well, occasionally, anyway. Heard you’ve even been bad-tempered here and there with the Hun, too.’ He looked at Longford. ‘Chap told me, in fact, that you manage to make ’em look so ordinary they seem to be floppin’ about the sky askin’ to be shot down.’

I was so pleased to see him I couldn’t respond to his banter effectively, and he went on cheerfully.

‘Hear you were even being nasty to ’em this morning,’ he said.

‘I’d have got one,’ I said, ‘if that fool Gumbell had done his job properly.’

His ears seemed to cock like a dog’s. ‘Gumbell?’ he asked. ‘Bad lot?’

‘Not really. Just a half-wit.’

‘I’ll get rid of him,’ he said. ‘Just give me time to dig in a bit. What are they like?’

‘Nasty,’ I said. ‘But big. Plenty to shoot at. But that means there’s a lot to absorb the bullets, too, without much damage being done. What I’d give for something firing explosive shells.’

‘From an aeroplane?’ Longford looked startled.

‘Why not?’

‘It’d fall apart. From the recoil.’

I was feeling stubborn. ‘You can’t shoot at armour-plated aeroplanes with a popgun,’ I said. ‘A cannon’d blow chunks off.’

Sykes blinked. ‘Good Lor’,’ he said. ‘Aren’t we nasty-tempered these days? Perhaps we could go in closer.’

‘Doubt it.’ I grinned. ‘It’s a bit warm in there. They carry at least two gunners. One at the front and one at the back.’

‘What about blind spots?’

After Latta and Crozier it was wonderful to hear someone taking an interest again and asking shrewd and searching questions. ‘Under the wings,’ I said. ‘Or behind and below the tail. And that’s all. Because what the front gunner can’t hit, the rear-gunner can.’

He looked thoughtful. ‘Ought to do it in twos,’ he suggested.

‘That’s what I was thinking.’

He gave me his brilliant warming smile. ‘Boelcke’s old dodge. Amazin’ how basic it is. One to do the nasty-tempered bit and the other to guard his tail and distract the old foe. Fighters’ll still be doing it that way forty years from now.’ He rubbed his bony nose.

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