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〃This is Brady Control calling。 We are under attack！ I repeat； we are under attack！ e in anybody； please reply！〃 The voice was near hysteria。
Pitt replied； 〃Brady Control； this is PBY…086。 Over。〃
〃Thank God； someone answered；〃 the voice gasped。
〃I tried to raise you before； Brady Control； but you faded and went off the air。〃
〃I was hit in the first attack； I。。 。 I must have passed out I'm all right now。〃 The words sounded broken； but coherent
〃We're approximately ten miles west of you at six thousand feet。〃 Pitt spoke slowly and did not repeat his position。 〃What is your situation？〃
〃We have no defense。 All our aircraft were destroyed on the ground。 The nearest interceptor squadron is seven hundred miles away。 They'll never get here in time。 Can you assist？〃
Pitt shook his head from side to side from habit。 〃Negative Brady Control。 My top speed is under one hundred ninety knots and I only have a couple of rifles on board。 We'd be wasting our time engaging a jet。〃
〃Please assist；〃 the voice pleaded。 〃Our attacker is not a jet bomber but a World War I biplane。 I repeat； our attacker is a World War I biplane。 Please assist。〃
Pitt and Giordino merely looked at each other； dumbfounded。 It was a full ten seconds before Pitt could pull his senses back into reign。
〃Okay； Brady Control； we're ing in。 But you'd better know your aircraft identification or you're going to make a pair of little old silver…haired mother damn sad if my co…pilot and I buy the farm。 Over and out。〃 Pitt turned to Giordino and spoke quickly without facial expression his tone confident and calculating。 〃Go aft and throw open the side hatches。 Use one of the carbines and make like a sharpshooter。〃
〃I can't believe what I'm hearing；〃 Giordino said stunned。
Pitt shook his head。 〃I can't quite accept it either； but we've got to give those guys down there on the ground a helping hand。 Now hurry it up。〃
〃I'll do it；〃 Giordino muttered。 〃But I still don't believe it。〃
〃Yours is not to reason why； my friend；〃 Pitt lightly punched Giordino on the arm and smiled briefly。
〃Good luck。〃
〃Save it for yourself； you bleed just as easily as I do；〃 Giordino said soberly。 Then； muttering quietly under his breath； he rose from the co…pilot's seat and made his way to the ship's waist。 Once there he pulled the thirty caliber carbine from an upright cabinet and shoved a fifteen shot clip into the receiver。 A blast of warm air struck his face； filling the partment when he opened the waist batches。 He checked the gun once more and sat down to wait； his thoughts drifting to the big man who was piloting the plane。 Giordino had known Pitt for a long time。 They'd played together as boys； ran on the same high school track team and dated the same girls。 He knew Pitt better than any man alive； any woman too； for that matter。
Pitt was； in a sense； two men； neither of them directly related to the other。 There was the coldly efficient Dirk Pitt who rarely made a mistake； and yet was humorous； unpretentious and easily made friends with everyone who came in contact with him； a rare bination。
Then there was the other Pitt； the moody one the one who often withdrew to himself for hours at a time and became remote and aloof； as though his mind were constantly churning over some distant dream。 There had to be a key that unlocked and opened the door between the two Pitts； but Giordino had never found it。 He did know； however； that the transition from one Dirk Pitt to the other took place more frequently in the past year… since Pitt lost a woman in the sea near Hawaii； a woman he had loved deeply。
Giordino remembered noticing Pitt's eyes before ing back to the main cabin； how the deep green had transformed to a glinting brightness at the call of danger。 Giordino had never seen eyes quite like them。 except once。 and he shuddered slightly at the recollection as he glanced at the missing finger on his right hand。 He jerked his thoughts back to the reality of the present and slid off the safety catch on the carbine。 Then； strangely。 he felt secure。
Back in the cockpit； Pitt's tanned face was a study in masculinity。 He was not handsome in the movie star sense： far from it Women rarely； if ever； threw themselves at him。 They were usually a little awed and unfortable in his presence。 They somehow sensed that he was not a man who catered to feminine wiles or silly coquettish games。 He loved women's pany and the feel of their soft bodies； but he disliked the subterfuge； the lies； and all the other ridiculous little ploys it took to seduce the average female。 Not that he lacked cleverness at getting a woman between the sheets； be was an expert。 But he had to force himself to play the game。 He preferred straightforward and honest women； but there were far too few to be found。 Pitt eased the control column forward； and the PBY nosed over in a shallow dive toward the inferno at Brady Field。 The white altimeter needles slowly swung backward around the black dial； registering the descent。 He steepened the angle； and the twenty…five year old aircraft began to vibrate。 It was not built for high speed。 It was designed for low speed reconnaissance； dependability and long range； but that was about all。
Pitt had requested the purchase of the craft after he had transferred from the Air Force to the National Underwater Marine Agency at the request of the Agency Director； Admiral James Sandecker。 Pitt still retained his rank of Major and； according to the paperwork； was assigned to an indefinite tour of duty with NUMA。 His title was that of Surface Security Officer； which was nothing to him but a fancy term for trouble shooter。 Whenever a project ran into unknown difficulties or unscientific problems； it was Pitt's job to unravel the difficulty and get the operation back on the track。 That was the purpose behind his request for the PBY Catalina flying boat。 Slow as it was； it could fortably carry passengers and cargo； and what was most important； land and take off in water； a prime factor since nearly ninety percent of NUMA's operations were miles at sea。
Suddenly a glint of color against the black cloud caught Pitt's attention。 It was a bright yellow plane。 It banked sharply； suggesting high maneuverability； and dived through the smoke。 Pitt slipped the throttles backward to reduce the speed of his sharp angle of descent and prevent the PBY from overshooting his strange adversary。 The other plane materialized out of the opposite side of the smoke and could clearly be seen strafing Brady Field。
〃I'll be damned；〃 Pitt boomed out loud。 〃It's an old German Albatros。〃
The Catalina came on straight from the eye of the sun； and the pilot of the Albatros； intent on the business of destruction； did not see it。 A sardonic grin spread on Pitt's face as the fight drew near。 He cursed the fact that there were no guns waiting for his mand to spout from the nose of the PBY。 He applied pressure to the rudder pedals and side slipped to give Giordino a better line of fire。 The PBY thundered in； still unnoticed。 Then； abruptly； he could hear the crack of Giordino's carbine above the roar of the engines。
They were almost on top of the Albat