Read Online The Avenger 20 - The Green Killer by Kenneth Robeson - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Kenneth Robeson
Ads: Link
managed to disable the tail assembly of the plane in that one short burst of gunfire, without rendering the ship utterly helpless and thus dooming all in it.
Nellie looked out at their right wing and saw holes leap into being in it. Then The Avenger dealt with that enemy, too. A swing that almost blacked them all out, another short burst, another wild spiral just managing to straighten.
Then The Avenger calmly tilted their nose down and circled to watch results. They saw both planes land. They were crash landings, but no one aboard either ship should suffer more than a few bruises and cuts. Indeed, through glasses, Nellie saw at the bottom of their swing that a tiny, monkeylike speck was out of one ship and shaking its fist up at them in miniature fury.
Benson went on, as though there had been no interruption at all.
They were a hundred miles farther along their course when The Avenger reached what he seemed to consider a good altitude—thirty-two thousand feet. Now, far below, like a map unrolled, they saw the south-center of Florida, like soft green velvet patched with silver. This was the swamp section with gloomy greenery laced here and there by water.
Here the man with the colorless, infallible eyes began circling like a waiting condor. Now and then, he cut the motors, gliding and listening to his new-type sound detector. He couldn’t cut the motors long; the modern precision engine would not stand much cooling off. But it was long enough to narrow Benson’s eyes tensely on the fourth try. He handed the earphones to Mac, who had come back from the rear turret.
Mac listened. After a while he nodded.
Motors had sounded faintly, and swinging the detector showed that the motors were east of them and behind them. Even with glasses, they couldn’t see the source of the sound.
Benson headed for another cloud bank. The plane circled behind this for half an hour. He flew out of it—and there was the other plane.
Eight or nine thousand feet below them, cutting south, was a good, but rather old, transport that, like the two attackers of an hour ago, had neither military nor airline markings.
It wasn’t half the ship The Avenger’s was. And the pilot evidently knew that, because when Dick swung his twelve-ton fortress toward the transport, the pilot dropped frantically like a wren trying to drop away from a hawk.
Smitty saw Benson’s hand go toward a button. The button was the trigger release for two 37-mm cannons with which the fast ship was equipped.
Smitty gaped at that. The Avenger hadn’t broken out with those cannons when two fast, last-minute-type fighters had attacked him at once. But now, against one old crate he should be able to lick with a sling shot, he prepared to fire the deadly things. The giant saw Nellie looking at the button with wonder in her eyes, too.
Diving straight down on the ship, The Avenger pressed the button. And now the three with him had even more occasion for wonder.
They’d have sworn Dick had made a direct hit with the two cannons. But nothing whatever happened to the other plane!
The Avenger’s plane seemed to falter, as if Dick were as surprised at this as the rest. Surprised and disconcerted. Instantly, the pilot of the transport seized what seemed an unexpected opportunity.
He nosed down, swung up toward the belly of the faster ship as it overtook him, and blazed away.
It was silly—one of those things that shouldn’t ever happen. This was no battler; this was an old transport, with one futile little machine gun installed crudely in its nose. But at the end of a burst from that one machine gun, amazing things happened to The Avenger’s big fortress.
It seemed to shiver like a stricken bird. Then it faded off to the right and went into a spin. Nellie and Mac and Smitty saw The Avenger fighting the controls. Then they saw something else.
A great and growing plume of black smoke billowed out from the fuselage behind them, near the tail!
CHAPTER VIII
Dark
Nellie looked out at their right wing and saw holes leap into being in it. Then The Avenger dealt with that enemy, too. A swing that almost blacked them all out, another short burst, another wild spiral just managing to straighten.
Then The Avenger calmly tilted their nose down and circled to watch results. They saw both planes land. They were crash landings, but no one aboard either ship should suffer more than a few bruises and cuts. Indeed, through glasses, Nellie saw at the bottom of their swing that a tiny, monkeylike speck was out of one ship and shaking its fist up at them in miniature fury.
Benson went on, as though there had been no interruption at all.
They were a hundred miles farther along their course when The Avenger reached what he seemed to consider a good altitude—thirty-two thousand feet. Now, far below, like a map unrolled, they saw the south-center of Florida, like soft green velvet patched with silver. This was the swamp section with gloomy greenery laced here and there by water.
Here the man with the colorless, infallible eyes began circling like a waiting condor. Now and then, he cut the motors, gliding and listening to his new-type sound detector. He couldn’t cut the motors long; the modern precision engine would not stand much cooling off. But it was long enough to narrow Benson’s eyes tensely on the fourth try. He handed the earphones to Mac, who had come back from the rear turret.
Mac listened. After a while he nodded.
Motors had sounded faintly, and swinging the detector showed that the motors were east of them and behind them. Even with glasses, they couldn’t see the source of the sound.
Benson headed for another cloud bank. The plane circled behind this for half an hour. He flew out of it—and there was the other plane.
Eight or nine thousand feet below them, cutting south, was a good, but rather old, transport that, like the two attackers of an hour ago, had neither military nor airline markings.
It wasn’t half the ship The Avenger’s was. And the pilot evidently knew that, because when Dick swung his twelve-ton fortress toward the transport, the pilot dropped frantically like a wren trying to drop away from a hawk.
Smitty saw Benson’s hand go toward a button. The button was the trigger release for two 37-mm cannons with which the fast ship was equipped.
Smitty gaped at that. The Avenger hadn’t broken out with those cannons when two fast, last-minute-type fighters had attacked him at once. But now, against one old crate he should be able to lick with a sling shot, he prepared to fire the deadly things. The giant saw Nellie looking at the button with wonder in her eyes, too.
Diving straight down on the ship, The Avenger pressed the button. And now the three with him had even more occasion for wonder.
They’d have sworn Dick had made a direct hit with the two cannons. But nothing whatever happened to the other plane!
The Avenger’s plane seemed to falter, as if Dick were as surprised at this as the rest. Surprised and disconcerted. Instantly, the pilot of the transport seized what seemed an unexpected opportunity.
He nosed down, swung up toward the belly of the faster ship as it overtook him, and blazed away.
It was silly—one of those things that shouldn’t ever happen. This was no battler; this was an old transport, with one futile little machine gun installed crudely in its nose. But at the end of a burst from that one machine gun, amazing things happened to The Avenger’s big fortress.
It seemed to shiver like a stricken bird. Then it faded off to the right and went into a spin. Nellie and Mac and Smitty saw The Avenger fighting the controls. Then they saw something else.
A great and growing plume of black smoke billowed out from the fuselage behind them, near the tail!
CHAPTER VIII
Dark
Similar Books
