Dust On the Sea by Douglas Reeman Read Free Book Online

tower, which looked as if it had been built overnight. There appeared to be no other planes around. It must be strange to serve in places like these where cows had once roamed, when life had been far simpler. They had already met the pilot, very young with a round, pink face, more like a choirboy than the captain of the camouflaged Dakota. He had greeted them cheerfully, as if he did not have a care in the world.
    â€˜Five hours with a following wind – should be all right. Reports seem fair enough.’
    Just as well, Blackwood thought. The plane was unarmed.
    He glanced at Gaillard. There was no hint of strain or doubt; he was as alert and watchful as ever. If anything, he seemed impatient.
    He said sharply, ‘God, these people take a month of Sundays to shift into gear! Wouldn’t do for me!’
    An aircraftman was peering in at them. ‘All loaded, sir. You can board now.’
    They walked together across the hard-packed ground and past an unmanned battery of Bofors guns. The sky was bright, and almost clear; their pilot would have that in mind while he was gaining height. Blackwood hadalready seen the filled-in bomb craters near the perimeter fence; it was not always so quiet here.
    Another officer, grinning, checked them against his list. ‘Better watch your language, gentlemen. There’s a woman in our midst!’
    Gaillard remarked, ‘Didn’t I tell you? Your little friend’s coming with us, part of the way.’ He climbed up into the aircraft, effortlessly, as Blackwood had seen him scale cliffs at Flannel Alley, as it was nicknamed, in Cornwall. Where they had first met.
    No, you didn’t tell me.
    Another airman was waiting for them. ‘Up here, sir.’
    There were several passengers, some already asleep despite the vibration of the twin engines. She was sitting by a window, and looked up briefly as he removed his greatcoat. She was wearing the same dark blue battledress, and her face seemed very pale against the curved side of the cabin.
    She pulled herself to her feet, and as he protested she said, ‘No. You sit here, Captain Blackwood. I don’t like looking out when I’m flying.’
    They changed round, and a light began to flicker to announce take-off. He sat quite still and upright in the much-used seat, very aware of her nearness, and the unreality of their meeting again like this.
    What did she do for Diamond’s team? Courier, somebody’s secretary or aide? It must be something important; seats were like gold on these flights. Despite the ever-present danger, it was always a matter of priority. Everyone else either took the long haul aroundthe Cape to Suez, where every troopship was a choice target for U-Boats and long-range Focke-Wulf bombers, or the shorter and even more hazardous route via Malta,when, at this stage of the war in the Mediterranean, an attack could be expected from any direction.
    He looked out and saw men scampering away as dust and smoke fanned from beneath the engines. A couple of aircraftmen were waving; others were already walking unconcernedly towards the N.A.A.F.I., if only to show what old hands they were.
    He could not see Gaillard, but he could feel him, imagined him watching them together, and enjoying it in some obscure way. He might even have arranged the seating; the R.A.F. transport people were always fairly strict in that respect, it was said so that they could identify the corpses strapped to their seats if a plane brewed up or crashed into the sea. What Sergeant Paget would call ‘a right bunch of comedians!’
    They were moving faster now, the fuselage swaying steeply on the crude runway. The control tower seemed so small from here, with an officer observing their progress through his binoculars.
    Faster, faster, a cottage or two flashing past, a black dog jumping up and down, barking soundlessly.
    He stiffened as he felt her hand on his arm.
    She said, ‘I’m
all right.
But I really