Oberleutnant Schmidt straightened with an indignant cry and with both hands clasped the injured section of his body. He swung about and glared angrily at Ann.
“So?” he cried. “You are up to schweinhund American tricks already!”
“I didn’t mean to kick you,” Ann said. “I’m not sorry, of course, but it was quite accidental. And I wish more accidents would turn out so satisfyingly,” she added scathingly.
“We will make sure that no more ‘accidents’ like that happen,” the German snapped.
He grabbed a piece of wire and bound her ankles together. Then he lifted her from the chair and dumped her to the floor.
“Now there will be no more smart tricks,” he cried.
“I can still bite,” Ann said grimly, from the floor, “and all I want is a chance.”
The oberleutant laughed and turned back to the controls, and Ann twisted herself on one side and stared helplessly at the wall of the cabin. And in that position the straps that secured her elbows were touching the floor.
Tink patted Jing solemnly on the shoulder.
“You,” he said, “are a genius.”
“Oh, hurry,” Jing cried. “You can untie her now, can’t you?”
“Sure thing,” Tink said.
He was tugging at the prong of the buckle when Captain Myers climbed aboard and said. “We are ready to leave, Schmidt?”
“Right away,” the oberleutant said. He turned the ignition switch and the smooth, powerful roar of the twin motors was soon reverberating in the cabin.
The captain smiled down at Ann and nudged her with the toe of his boot.
“And how is our spirited and beautiful prisoner?” he asked genially.
“Hurry, Tink!” Jing said pleadingly.
“I’m trying,” he said, through set teeth. But the prong of the buckle was under pressure and he couldn’t budge it.
“Not very talkative, eh?” Captain Myers murmured. “Well, you’ll change that attitude soon enough.”
He turned his back to Ann and nodded to his junior officer.
“Whenever you’re ready,” he said, “you may take-off. I will take the controls when we get in the air.”
The oberleutnant released the brake and the plane started forward slowly. And at that same instant Tink put all his strength into one last effort and the prong slipped from its hole in the leather and the straps hung loosely on the girl’s arms.
Ann felt the pressure of the straps release and she moved her arms incredulously. She was free! In some miraculous fashion the buckle must have slipped.
She raised herself cautiously to a sitting position. There was no time to remove the wire from ankles; the captain was standing directly in front of her and the gun at his hip was within reach of her hand.
She reached for it, and with one quick motion, jerked it from the holster. The captain spun around, his hand snapping frantically to his hip, but he was too late. He found himself staring into the muzzle of his own gun, held unwaveringly in the hand of a girl who looked as if she would relish shooting the eyes out of his head.
“Tell him to stop the plane!” Ann snapped, and there was no mistaking the grim gesture she made with the gun. She was ready to fire — immediately!
“Schmidt! Stop!” Captain Myers said frantically.
The oberleutnant looked over his shoulder and his eyes widened with sudden incredulous horror as he saw the gun pointing at his head.
He stopped the plane and swung around in the pilot’s seat.
“Don’t shoot!” he said, his lips trembling so that he could hardly get the words out.
“Open the door and get out,” Ann said grimly. “And I wouldn’t advise you to make a run for it.”
The oberleutnant stood up and moved slowly toward the door, but when he passed behind the captain, he suddenly ducked low, slipped to one side and dove for the girl.
She shot him in the right shoulder without changing expression. He fell at her feet, moaning softly.
“I didn’t like doing that,” Ann said quietly to the captain, “but I borrowed a little of your philosophy for the moment. They fight fire with fire in America, and we can learn to fight you with your own tactics if that’s the only way we can exterminate Naziism.”
The captain licked his lips and said nothing.
“Now back up,” the girl said.
When the captain backed away, the girl unwrapped the wire from her ankles with one hand and then stood up, still covering the German with his gun.
“Open the door and step out,” she ordered.
Tink and Jing hugged each other as the captain climbed out of the plane with the girl close behind him, pointing the gun squarely at his head.
Red and the young lieutenant watched the two emerge from the plane with incredulous expressions on their faces.
“I don’t believe it,” Tom Diggles said feebly. “It’s a mirage.”
“You’re still underestimating the air corps maintenance,” Ann said. “We’re pretty substantial.”
Red yelled happily, “That ain’t the half of it. Where’s the other kraut-head?”
“In the plane,” Ann said, as she came to a stop before them. “He’s not feeling awfully good right now.” She jabbed the gun into the captain’s back. “Get down on your knees and untie those two men,” she said.
When the lieutenant climbed to his feet he grinned at the girl.
“Will you pardon me a minute, I’ve got a little job to handle?”
“What, Tom?”
“This,” Tom said grimly.
He swung the German captain around and said, “I told you we might meet again, and I told you you’d regret it.” He stripped off his leather jacket and walked slowly toward the German, his hands swinging loosely at his sides.
“Prepare to get awfully regretful,” he murmured.
“Oh boy,” Red said happily, “this is all I need to make my day complete.
A ring side seat to watch a can of sauerkraut get punched full of holes.”
The captain backed slightly away, his eyes narrowed in his face. He was heavier through the shoulders than the American and he was fully twenty pounds heavier. There was a fleeting expression of triumph on his face as he raised his fists.
“This may be interesting,” he said.
Chapter VII
Tink and Jing settled down contentedly to watch the fight, but after a few minutes their faces were set in worried frowns.
The German, using his greater weight, was driving the American relentlessly back, driving sledge-hammer blows into his face and body with every step.
The lieutenant fought savagely standing toe-to-toe and slugging furiously, but he was forced back steadily under the powerful punches of the German.
“Box him!” Red screamed. “Box him, you fool!”
He almost climbed to his feet in his excitement.
“Jab him, use your left. Who d’ you think you are — Joe Louis?”
The American fought back grimly, desperately, but the terrific punches of the German were sapping his strength. His face was bleeding and his breath was coming in deep, laboring gasps.
The German circled slightly and drove in again, driving the American toward Ann. There was a desperate cunning gleam in the depths of his eyes and his face was a hard mask of hatred.
When he maneuvered the American within a half dozen feet of the girl, he planted himself solidly and snapped across a hard, driving right that sent the lieutenant sprawling to the ground.
Ann swung to watch the lieutenant, a pleading expression in her eyes and, for that second, the German was out of range of the gun in her hand. And that had been his plan.