CHAPTER FOUR
_Orders for Eagles_
The usually active, buzzing Bolling Field was shrouded in darkness andlooked almost completely deserted as Colonel Welsh wheeled the car uptoward the main gates. When he came within twenty yards of those gates,however, there was instant proof that not everybody was asleep. Twosmall-sized searchlight beams cut the darkness and focused square on themoving car. Dawson, from past experience, knew that up in the littletowers that housed the searchlights were a couple of machine guns thatwere also trained dead on the car. In addition, the captain on duty andtwo armed guards suddenly appeared and closed in on the car in nothingflat. And as if the twin searchlight beams were not enough, the captainsnapped on a flashlight and played it straight into Colonel Welsh'sface, then into Dawson's, and then into Freddy Farmer's. Just to makesure, the captain turned the light on the colonel's face once more, andthen snapped it out.
"Your pass, please, sir," he said quietly.
The colonel produced it, and the captain was completely satisfied. Hestepped back, saluted, and gave an order. As the heavy gates swung open,Colonel Welsh slipped the car into gear and rolled on through. Lookingback, Dawson noted that the guns of the guards, and the searchlightbeams, too, followed the car well inside the field. The idea seemedsilly to him for a moment. Then he realized that it would be quite easyfor somebody who wasn't wanted to hook a ride on the rear bumper, andthus get inside where he didn't belong.
"Yes, sir!" he murmured as he turned front again. "This is one placethat would stop even Superman cold."
"I hope that's true, and I believe it is," Colonel Welsh stated.
Dawson turned his head and glanced sharply at the Intelligence Chief.An undernote in the officer's voice had a queer ring. Before he couldask questions, however, Colonel Welsh turned the car in through thewide-open doors of one of the hangars, braked it to a stop just inside,and switched off the engine. A single rafter-light threw a pale glowabout the interior, and in one sweeping glance Dave saw that the hangarwas empty of planes except for a single Army-Air-Forces, WrightCyclone-powered, Vultee V-12C, attack bomber. A couple of mechanics anda technical sergeant were standing by the wing. They came over to thecar at once, and gave the colonel a snappy salute.
"All set and ready, as you ordered, sir," the technical sergeant said.
Colonel Welsh climbed out of the car, and nodded.
"Very good, Sergeant," he said. "Roll her out and start her up, willyou? We're going to use Captain Billings' office for a few minutes. Ifanybody happens to wander in, no matter who, you have my authority tosend him right along on his way."
"Right, sir," the technical sergeant answered, and grinned as though hecould name two or three high rankers he would just love to toss out ontheir ears, now that he had the permission to do so.
However, he didn't mention that little item. Instead, he snapped ordersto the two mechanics, and all three of them began rolling the attackbomber out onto the hangar apron. Meanwhile Colonel Welsh led Dawson andFarmer into Captain Billings' office in a rear corner of the hangar. Hesnapped on the light, closed the door, waved them to a couple of chairs,and sat down at a desk. He drew six envelopes from an inside pocket ofhis tunic. Each envelope was heavily sealed with wax, and each was madeof a peculiar-looking paper. At first glance it struck Dawson that itwas oil paper, or shark's skin. At any rate, he had a sudden thoughtthat each envelope was absolutely waterproof.
The colonel placed them in a pile on the desk in front of him, and thenrested a hand on top of the pile, almost as though he expected anon-existent wind or an invisible force to snatch them away.
"You two are headed for Natal, Brazil," he began, speaking quietly."With stops on the way at Miami, Puerto Rico, San Fernando in BritishTrinidad, Paramaribo in Dutch Guiana, Belem in Brazil, and Natal. Youwill land on the government airport at each of those points.Officially, you are making a survey flight for the Army Air TransportCommand. At Miami and Puerto Rico you will contact the Americancommanding officer, and deliver to him _in the presence of no one else_the envelope that bears his name. On the authority of a letter which Ishall give you to take along, you are to instruct him to guard hisenvelope with his life, and _not_ to open it until the sixteenth of thismonth. At San Fernando, Paramaribo, Belem, and Natal, of course you willcontact the officer in command of the American staff, and not thecommanding officer of the airport."
The colonel paused for a moment as though permitting time for hisinstructions to sink in. Then he tapped the pile of heavily sealed,waterproof envelopes with his fingers.
"These contain information on perhaps the most important secret of thiswar!" he continued, speaking in a grave tone. "The Axis would gladlygive up half a dozen divisions of troops for the possession of any oneof these envelopes. And that doesn't even begin to describe howimportant they are. I am the only man in the world who knows of theflight you two are to begin in a few minutes. At least, I pray to Godthat I'm the only one. However, in view of the fact that absolutelynothing is _sure_ in this war, I must give you this order: Under nocircumstances, not even under the threat of the most horrible kind ofdeath, is either of you to permit a single one of these letters to getinto the hands of anybody but the American officer whose name is typedon the front of each envelope. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, sir," Dawson said with a nod.
"Definitely, sir," Freddy Farmer echoed.
"And I'm sure you do," the colonel said. "I can't help, though, butstress that point. _Don't let any of these envelopes out of your sightuntil each has been delivered to the proper person._ Make doubly surethat each of those proper persons understands what he is to do.Naturally, you'll be asked questions by those officers as to what theenvelopes contain. That is one reason why I'm not even telling you, sothat you can truthfully reply that you do not know. Just remember, thisis the most secret mission you have ever undertaken. Guard theseenvelopes with your lives and see that they are delivered to the properparties. If the commanding officer does not happen to be there when youarrive, do _not_ give the envelope to the next in command. Stay thereuntil the commanding officer does arrive. If you have a forced landing,play up the fact you are on a survey flight. If your plane is damaged, awire sent to me in Washington will get an immediate reply ordering thecommandant of the airfield nearest the scene of your crash to turn overa plane to you. If one of you happens to be injured in the crash, theother will carry on alone as soon as possible, without creatingsuspicion that the flight is not for survey purposes."
The colonel suddenly stopped talking and drew from his pocket two smallvials containing a brownish liquid. He placed them beside the pile ofenvelopes, and looked at the two air aces again.
"If both of you are hurt badly," he said, "or if--and I pray God it willnot happen--you should fall into the hands of enemy agents, orforce-land on the water and be approached by a lurking U-boat, you areto take the caps from these vials and pour the contents over theenvelopes. The powerful acid they contain will completely destroy theenvelopes and their contents in a matter of seconds. In short, it isyour sacred trust to destroy these envelopes before you die--or arecaptured. Now, to make sure, repeat to me the instructions I've justgiven you."
Dawson spoke for the pair and repeated almost word for word everythingthe colonel had told them.
"Well, that's all I've got to say," the Intelligence Chief said with anod. "Here, Dawson. Three of these and a vial are for you. And the otherthree and a vial are for you, Farmer. Naturally, my prayers go with youfor a safe and very uneventful flight. If it helps any, I personallychose you two for this flight, because--well, you've come through for meseveral times in the past, and I know you will again. One thing, though.If any of the envelopes fall into Axis hands, I might just as well put abullet through my brain, because I wouldn't want to go on living. Haveeither of you any questions?"
"Yes, sir, I have one," Freddy Farmer spoke up.
"Then let's have it," Colonel Welsh said with a nod.
The English-born air ace
hesitated a moment, and a slight flush crept upinto his sun-and-wind-bronzed face.
"These chaps to whom we deliver the envelopes, sir," he said with afrown. "What if they--Well, what I'm trying to say, sir, is supposing_they_ don't follow the orders we give them? What if they should losetheir envelopes or--well, you know."
"They won't, Farmer," Colonel Welsh said with a grim shake of his head."Each of the six officers that you will contact is not only an officerin our Armed Forces, but a carefully selected member of Intelligence aswell. In short, each is one of my own men. And after you show them thisletter of authority, you need not worry that they won't follow ordersright to the letter."
As he spoke, the colonel drew a seventh, but unsealed, envelope from hispocket and handed it to Freddy Farmer. Then he turned his head andlooked at Dawson's frown.
"Yes, Dawson?" he asked. "You've a question, too?"
"A couple, Colonel," Dave replied. Then with a shrug, "The first maystrike you as stupid."
"How can I say, until you ask it?" the Intelligence officer demanded asthe Yank air ace didn't go on.
"These officers we're to contact--" Dawson said presently--"is there anyway we can make sure that each _is_ the one we believe him to be? Inother words, we've just got six names, Colonel. I haven't read them yet,but it's possible that neither Freddy nor I know the men from Adam asfar as looks are concerned."
"A mighty good question, Dawson," Colonel Welsh said with an emphaticnod. "Just shows you've got your eye on the ball right at the start.Contact the officer, show him my letter of authority, and demand hisidentification. It will be a copper disc with some numbers stamped onit. Every set of numbers will add up to forty-one--the year,incidentally, of Pearl Harbor. If the numbers don't add up to forty-one,then he is not your man."
"And if they _don't_ add up to forty-one, sir?" Freddy Farmer asked, andleaned forward.
Colonel Welsh's lips stiffened, and an agate-hard glint came into hiseyes. He pointed to the letter of authority Freddy held in his hands.
"Use that to have the man placed under close arrest at once!" he saidharshly. "And get in radiophone communication with me as soon aspossible. _If_ the man tries to evade arrest, tries to escape--shoot himdead on the spot! Yes, that's an unusual order, but this is an unusualmission. Now, the other question, Dawson? What is it?"
"When we reach Natal, sir," Dave said, "what do we do? Fly back andreport to you?"
"No," the senior officer said with a shake of his head. "I'm allowingthree days for you to make this stop-over flight to Brazil. That shouldget you in Natal by the fourteenth, the fifteenth at the latest. Put upat the Pan-Am Hotel. I will join you there on the fifteenth. I'll haveanother little mission for you when I get there. Well, any otherquestions?"
Dawson and Farmer looked at each other. Then they looked at ColonelWelsh, and each shook his head. The senior officer stood up, and asthough the gods had waited for that exact instant, the Vultee'sWright-Cyclone outside broke forth with its song of mighty power.
"Then that's that," Colonel Welsh said. "There's some flying gear overthere on the wall. Select what you want, and then let's get outside tothe plane. I'll stake my life that not a soul has heard what we've beentalking about, but four walls always get on my nerves. I like it betterout in the open where I can see in all directions, and for somedistance, too. But don't pay any attention to me. I'm under a slightstrain, and it's trying its darnedest to get me. Stupid, of course. Soselect your stuff, and let's get out to the plane. God bless you, andall kinds of happy landings until we meet again in Natal, Brazil."
If they happened to be listening to the colonel's parting words, thegods of war, and death, and doom, must have had quite a laugh forthemselves!
Dave Dawson at Casablanca Page 4
