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datatime: 2022-12-06 22:34:40 Author:dwgtNKbq

"Check." Roger turned down the mixture. "That's what I'm talking about," he said, motioning toward Morrissey, who was acting as flight engineer. "It's stupid - all of us on the same plane. What if it went down? Who'd be left to run the company?"

"He's the only man around who can handle it," he said. "And he won't be available for long. The way things are going, somebody's going to snap him up."

"This is where we leave you, old boy."

He returned my smile without humor. "That's what you pay me for. The president of the company has to worry. Especially the way we're growing. We grossed over thirty-five million last year; this year we'll go over a hundred million with war orders. We'll have to start bringing up personnel who can take over in case something happens to us."

I nodded silently. He'd been right - it was a hell of a wise move. We'd fabricate the parts in our plants in the States and ship them to Canada, where they'd go on the production line. As they rolled off, the R.C.A.F. would fly them to England. If it worked, we could knock about three weeks off the production time for each plane.

I didn't answer. Up ahead of us, I saw the Spitfire formation leader waggle his wings. It was the signal to break radio silence. Forrester leaned forward and flipped the switch. "Yes, Captain?"

"Engines one and two, check," Morrissey called from behind us. "Engines three and four, check. You can cut the fuel now."

"I'm not talking about that," Roger grumbled.

"Sure," he said, shooting a curious look at me. "But you aren't going to like it."

"O.K., Captain," Forrester said. "Thank you."

"Let them He's a prick and a lush. Besides, he's bombed out on everything he ever did."

He returned my smile without humor. "That's what you pay me for. The president of the company has to worry. Especially the way we're growing. We grossed over thirty-five million last year; this year we'll go over a hundred million with war orders. We'll have to start bringing up personnel who can take over in case something happens to us."

I nodded silently. He'd been right - it was a hell of a wise move. We'd fabricate the parts in our plants in the States and ship them to Canada, where they'd go on the production line. As they rolled off, the R.C.A.F. would fly them to England. If it worked, we could knock about three weeks off the production time for each plane.

"What's stupid?" I asked, looking down behind me from the copilot's seat, to see London dropping back into the early-morning haze. There were several fires still burning from last night's raid. "They didn't buy our plane but they'll buy all the B-17's we can turn out. What the hell, we both know they have to standardize."

He reached out and took the cigarette from my mouth and put it between his lips. "You know better than that, Jonas. I couldn't keep up with those kids. They'd fly rings around me. If I have to be an armchair pilot, I'd rather do it here, where at least I'm on your general staff."

"This is where we leave you, old boy."

"O.K., I agree. But none of the boys working for us has the experience to take on a big job like that except Morrissey. And we can't spare him. You got anybody in mind?"

"Sure," he said, shooting a curious look at me. "But you aren't going to like it."

"Let them He's a prick and a lush. Besides, he's bombed out on everything he ever did."

"Check." Roger turned down the mixture. "That's what I'm talking about," he said, motioning toward Morrissey, who was acting as flight engineer. "It's stupid - all of us on the same plane. What if it went down? Who'd be left to run the company?"

I reached for a cigarette. "What's going to happen to us?" I asked, lighting it. I looked at him through the cloud of smoke. "Unless you got a little jealous of the R.A.F. back there and are thinking about going back into the service."

"He's the only man around who can handle it," he said. "And he won't be available for long. The way things are going, somebody's going to snap him up."

I reached for a cigarette. "What's going to happen to us?" I asked, lighting it. I looked at him through the cloud of smoke. "Unless you got a little jealous of the R.A.F. back there and are thinking about going back into the service."

"O.K., Captain," Forrester said. "Thank you."

He returned my smile without humor. "That's what you pay me for. The president of the company has to worry. Especially the way we're growing. We grossed over thirty-five million last year; this year we'll go over a hundred million with war orders. We'll have to start bringing up personnel who can take over in case something happens to us."

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