by John Blaine
“It’sfun watching, but I don’t really have a strong desire to try it. I’d only be using up the time of someone who’s really anxious-like these two adventurous young charges of mine. But if you let them try a free flight this afternoon, Rick, we’ll all celebrate atLas Vegas . Parnell said he could join us for dinner tonight, because everything is set for a test in the morning.”
Eager blue eyes and brown eyes met Rick’s. “Can we?” Jan and Barby asked in unison.
Rick looked at Aster, then at Gordon and Scotty.
Aster spoke for all of them. “They handled the belt as well as any of the men, and better than I did. It’s really quite simple to handle, if you don’t lose your head and balance, and I’d say these two have nerve enough.”
Gordon and Scotty nodded, and Rick said, “Okay. We all agree. Let’s have lunch and get started.”
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It was a successful afternoon, with Aster, Scotty, the girls, and John Gordon making free flights. Rick topped it off by making a flight himself, soaring like Superman over Building Two and back again, then making a circle only two feet above the ground and dropping featherlight to a landing.
Parnell Winston joined the Spindrift group at the lodge as they were enjoying a quick swim before dressing for dinner. He reported that all was in readiness for a test run of the nuclear ramjet in the morning. It should iron out the last of the problems that had arisen, and then mating of engine and vehicle could start Monday morning.
Rick, Scotty, and the two scientists were dressed long before the girls were ready. As usual, there was last-minute ironing, hair spraying, and all the rest of the girl-type preparations that hold up the wheels of progress.
The four male Spindrifters sat on the porch of Winston’s cottage and chatted. Up the street, an engine roared into life, and Rick looked over in time to see one of the Jones Boys panel trucks pull away, leaving the other parked next to the Jones cottage. He had a brief glimpse of Carl Jones in white shirt and bow tie as the panel truck left.
“Looks as if the Jones Boys are out on the town, too,” he observed.
“We have one of them handy at Jackass Flats all day,” Winston said. “It’s a real convenience. I wondered about a private outfit like that in the test site, butit’s okay. Jones was issued a badge and vehicle pass that lets him go on the roads, but not into any of the secure areas. He waits at a crossroads just outside the secure area, and gets quite a rush at lunch and coffee-break time. In between, he just sits and waits.Usually working on his fishing rod.”
That startled Rick.“Fishing rod? So does his brother at Building Ten. They must be a pair of fishing nuts.”
“Whose rods break down at the same time,” Scotty added dryly.
The four looked at each other. Winston broke the sudden silence.“Coincidence. There’s certainly nothing strange about a passion for fishing. I’ve seen our man step out of his truck and try a few casts across the desert, so it’s a real rod and reel.”
“Ours has a real reel, too,” Rick said with a grin. “I saw him putting new line on it.”
John Gordon chuckled. “I might point out to our two professional detectives that neither Jones gets into the classified areas, so it’s unlikely the panel trucks are spy wagons.”
The conversation came to an end as the female portion of the Spindrift group emerged. Looking at Jan and Barby, Rick thought the wait had been worthwhile, but of course he couldn’t admit it. Mrs. Winston looked scarcely older than the girls.
“We’re ready,” Barby said brightly.
“In the words of a one-time king,” Rick replied, “ ‘At long last.’ Let’s go beforeLas Vegas closes down for the night.”
The drive, in Winston’s sedan, was pleasant in the cool of the evening. The scientist took them to the famous Strip, a neon wilderness of plush hotels and gambling salons, and drove into the parking place of Page 34
a hotel that advertised a famous comedian as its stellar attraction. When Rick saw the rows of cars in the dim-lighted parking lot, he wondered if there would be a table available. There were five hundred cars at least.
As they entered, he saw that the gambling salon was the main attraction; evidently most of the people got no farther than the blackjack, roulette, and dice tables, or the gleaming rows of slot machines.
“I feel lucky after that flight today,” Jan said. “I wish I could make just a small bet. I’d win.”
“That’s what every one of these people thinks,” Rick told her. “And most of them are losing.”
“I’d win,” Jan insisted. “I’m lucky.”
Winston had reserved a table, apparently by phone from the test site. The party followed a bowing headwaiter to an excellent location on a terrace overlooking the stage.
A waiter handed out menus the size of a newspaper page, but Rick, who had been toLas Vegas before, made his choice quickly, then looked around the extravagantly decorated room. People were coming in from the gambling salon to have dinner before the show. Rick watched them, trying to size them up by type. Many were obviously West Coast vacationers with deep tans, in fromLos Angeles for the weekend. Some were typical tourists. There was a sprinkling of men who might have been in rackets of some kind. Most of the men were in ordinary business suits, but a few wore black tie.
Rick’s eyes caught a pair at the doorway and he leaned forward. “Look who’s suddenly appeared.
Neighbors!”
The Spindriftgroup turned in time to see the Jones Boys scan the room quickly, then depart .
“The social Joneses suddenly become unsociable,” Scotty observed. “Was it because they saw us?”
Rick shook his head.“Didn’t seem that way. It was more as though they were looking for someone and didn’t see him.Or her.Or maybe them.”
A few minutes later he knew-or thought he did-forwhom the Jones Boys had been looking. Standing in the doorway, neatly dressed in a dark-brown suit, was a young man he had last seen in khaki work clothes bent over a wastebasket. The redheaded janitor from Building Ten!
Rick said nothing, because the waiter arrived to take their orders just then. As the waiter finished taking notes and moved away, Rick caught Scotty’s eye and rose. “Will you excuse us for a moment?”
Barby looked at her brother suspiciously, but she didn’t say anything.
Rick and Scotty moved through the doorway into the salon and paused while Rick looked rapidly around. “The redheaded janitor looked in, too,” he explained. “Be interesting if he and the Jones Boys got together, wouldn’t it?”
“Very,” Scotty said. “Do you see them?”
“Not yet.” They walked through the salon, alert for a familiar face, then into the hotel lobby, and into the coffee shop. “They must have gone out,” Rick concluded.
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“Maybe they’re still around. Let’s go see.” Scotty headed for the nearest door. It opened on the glittering front of the hotel, and there was no sign of the Joneses or the janitor.
“Let’s try the parking-lot door,” Rick suggested.
Outside, the rows of cars were shining in the moonlight and the pale neon glow from the front. A few people were walking toward the entrance, but there was no sign of the missing men. Rick walked slowly along the front line of cars, Scotty beside him. Unless the trio had ducked into a room in the cottage-style hotel, they had to be nearby. There hadn’t been time for them to get very far.
“Once around the parking lot,” Scotty suggested.
“Okay.”
It was at the dark back of the lot that they heard the sound, like a groan. Both boys stopped and waited.
It came again. Rick dropped to the blacktop and peered under the cars. He thought he saw a huddled shape a few rows in.
“This way.”He made his way between the cars to the spot, then stopped as the groan came again. “One more row, I guess.” He stepped carefully between two sports cars while Scotty ran around through a clearer space.
A man was huddled on the ground. S
cotty turned him over. The redhead’s face was dimly visible, eyes closed. He was unconscious. The groan was the rasping of his breath.
“Get help,” Rick said. I’ll stay with him.” Scotty ran.
The redhead was almost under the front of a big sedan. Rick checked quickly. It was unlocked. He reached in and pulled the headlight switch, bathing the area with bright light. Working quickly, he checked the man over. There was a soft spot over one ear. Rick’s lips were pressed tightly together in concern.A bad lump. There was no other sign of injury, but that was enough.
Rick reached into the redhead’s breast pocket and found a wallet. He pulled it out and leafed through it rapidly. The middle section consisted of plastic pockets for credit cards, and from one of them the redhead’s picture looked at him. Rick whistled.
Under the picture was the name Robert M. Davis, 1stLt., USAF, CIC.
The redhead was an officer in Air Force Counter-intelligence.
CHAPTER IX
Ramshorn Gets a Bug
Rick swished his legs in the swimming pool and stared unseeing at the thick grove of pines that marched up the mountainside beyond the Aspen Lodge clearing. He was concentrating so completely that he failed Page 36
to see Jan do a flawless jackknife off the board and was not even aware of her presence until she lifted herself out of the water to a seat next to him.
“Am I improving?” she asked.
“I’m afraid I didn’t see,” Rick admitted.
Jan studied his face, her dark eyes serious. “Thinking about that man you found in the parking lot last night?”
“Partly.And partly about some other things.”
The redhead had been carried off to the hospital, while theLas Vegas sheriff asked Rick and Scotty endless questions. Finally, satisfied that they had not clubbed the officer, he let them go. Rick had located Captain Aster at the Scarlet Lake Officers’ Club and reported what had happened. Aster had thanked him, and told him to go enjoy himself; the military would take over immediately.
Aster had joined the Spindrift group just as the hotel floor show was ending. He reported briefly. The redhead had been knocked out with professional skill, probably with a blackjack. He was suffering from a severe concussion, and the doctors couldn’t say when he might be conscious. The Jones Boys were gambling at the Golden Nugget. There was no basis for suspecting, or questioning them. The coincidence of their presence at the hotel was interesting, but not evidence.
“You’re wondering abut the Joneses,” Jan said with sure intuition.
“Uh-uh. They’re probably over at their cottage getting ready for tomorrow’s business. There’s no sign of anything irregular, but I’m still puzzled. The most unusual thing in the desert is a fishing rod, unless you’re closer toLake Mead than we are. But both of them spend time working on the rods when not serving customers.”
Rick stared into the pool, where Scotty and Barby were playing water catch with a brilliant orange ball.
The fishing rods stuck a discordant note, and somewhere in the back of his mind was a fact he couldn’t recall, something that tied in.
“Do spies generally use fishing rods?” Jan asked with a little chuckle.
“Not usually,” Rick admitted.
A horn blew from the entrance to the lodge, and they turned as Captain Aster and another officer drove down the row of cabins. Rick jumped to his feet.“Aster. Maybe he has some news.”
Scotty came out of the water and joined Rick as he hurried to meet the jeep. “Wonder what brings Aster here on a quiet Sunday.”
Aster and the stranger parked the jeep and got out as the boys walked toward them. Rick saw that the stranger was an Air Force lieutenant with pilot’s wings. He was young, with close-cropped brown hair, and about Scotty’s size.
“Morning,” Aster greeted them. “Come and meet Jimmy Taylor, the hottest egg-beater jockey in the Air Force.”
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Taylorhad a nice grin and a firm handshake. “I understand I’m your chauffeur for this test.”
Rick looked at Aster. The captain nodded. “Jimmy is your pilot. Tomorrow he’ll start toting you on dry runs.”
“Anything new from the hospital?”Scotty asked.
“Our boy’s holding his own, I guess, but he’s still unconscious. I’d like a few minutes of conversation with him, though. Wish he’d come to, if only for a while. Then he could recover peacefully while we get on with the job.”
Rick nodded his understanding. “If he hadn’t been on to something, he wouldn’t have been slugged.”
“Right.And whoever slugged him intended it to be permanent. At least that’s my guess.” Aster shrugged.
“Sooner or later we’ll get whoever did it. But this is Sunday, and nothing’s happening that concerns me. I thought I’d bring Jimmy over to meet you, he reported in for duty last night-and see if we could cook up a little excitement.”
“Like what?” Scotty asked.
Aster smiled. “Like having a swim with you, then taking you for a hamburger lunch, and finally ending up atScarletLake .”
“And if we happen to make a few flights with the belt, you won’t mind?” Rick asked innocently.
“I won’t mind,” Aster agreed.
“We have to take the girls,” Scotty reminded Rick. “We promised.”
Jimmy Taylor had been looking toward the pool, where Jan and Barby were waiting with obvious interest. “That,” he announced, “will not be a hardship. These ancient orbs have seldom seen such a pulchritudinous pair.”
“Does he always talk like that?” Rick asked with a grin.
“Only when in a state of shock,” Aster replied. “Come on. Let’s expose him to Barby and Jan at close range. I want to see if he faints dead away.”
“I’m almost within swooning distance now,” Jimmy returned.
“Come and meet them, then you can use our cabin to change. Did you bring trunks?” Rick asked.
The officers had come equipped. Rick led them to the pool and introduced the helicopter pilot. Jimmy bowed with the grace of a courtier and asked, “Is it all right if I adopt both of you? If it is, I’ll phone my wife right away and she can have our lawyer draw up the adoption papers.”
“Make him show you proof that he has a rocket belt, first,” Scotty advised. “You wouldn’t want a foster father who didn’t own a rocket belt.”
“I don’t have one,” Jimmy admitted. “But I’ll tell you what. You can adopt me, instead.”
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“We’ll consider it,” Jan replied. “Bring us some character references from your commanding officer.”
“And your wife,” Barby added.
“Where is your wife, by the way?” Jan asked.
“At Travis Air Force Base.She’ll be joining me in a week or two. Then you can ask her personally about my character. Meanwhile, I’ll wash away my many sins in your swimming pool. Okay?”
“Okay,” the girls chorused.
As the two officers hurried to the cabin to change into trunks, escorted by Scotty, Barby said, “He’s nice. Who is he?”
Rick explained that Jimmy would carry Team Five-namely Brant and Scott-to their assigned tracking station.
“Do you suppose he could give us a ride in the helicopter?” Jan asked.
Rick shook his head. “I doubt it. There are rules about carrying passengers in military aircraft. Scotty and I are legitimate, because we’re working on an Air Force project, but I don’t think he could carry you two.”
Jimmy confirmed Rick’s statement over lunch at the Scarlet Lake Officers’ Club. He was desolate, heartbroken, grief-stricken, and so on, but much as he desired nothing more than to take lovely young girls on rides, the unimaginative generals of the Air Force had issued rules by which he must abide or be shot out of hand by a firing squad kept handy at every Air Force base for just such purposes.
The girls were amused by the pilot’s nonsense. He kept them laughing throughout the afternoon while Rick, Scotty, and Aster made
most of the nights in the rocket belt. The girls made one apiece, and Jimmy Taylor declined to try it.
Wingless flight, Jimmy explained soberly, was against the laws of nature. . . . Did they know of any wingless birds capable of flight? . . . No. . . . That proved it. The belt was only an illusion. It seemed to fly, but obviously didn’t, because it had no wings.
A casual observer would have concluded that either the pilot was afraid to try the belt, or not interested.
Rick, however, had learned not to make snap judgments, so he just waited. He could see thatTaylor was keenly interested in spite of his flow of comment.
While Aster and Scotty were refueling the belt and the girls were getting out of the coveralls after their flights, the pilot said seriously, “It’s a terrific gadget. Do you suppose I could try a tethered flight after work tomorrow?”
“Sure. We’ll come over right after work.”
Jimmy nodded. “Great. I’d love to try it right now, but I can see the whole operation depends on body balance. I’m pretty sure I’d have no trouble, but anyone who takes a chance when there’s a certain way of finding out doesn’t last long as a pilot. I learned that the hard way when flying fighters. So I’ll wait until I can try it out with a safety line.”
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Rick was glad that the pilot was a sane and sensible type under his humorous exterior. Jockeying a helicopter onto a mountain peak in this country was no cinch, and a pilot who took his job seriously was much to be preferred to the hot pilot type willing to take a risk for the fun of it.
The two officers took the Spindrift young people back to the lodge in time for dinner, but declined an invitation to join them. By the time they had taken a quick dip in the pool, Winston and Gordon had arrived.
Rick and Scotty walked to the Winstons’ cabin as the scientists got out of Winston’s sedan, talking seriously together.
“One Jones is still working away in his little portable restaurant,” Scotty noted. “But on the equipment, not a fishing rod.”
“Glad to know they keep the wagons clean,” Rick said absently. “Did you notice Winston and Gordon?
