cc.themediterraneancaper2-第3部分

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　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　Albatros　before　the　leather　helmeted　head　in　the　　open　cockpit　spun　around。　They　were　so　close　Pitt　could　see　the　other　pilot's　　mouth　drop　open　in　shocked　surprise　at　the　sight　of　the　big　flying　boat；　boring　down　from　the　sun…the　hunter　became　the　quarry。　The　pilot　recovered　quickly　and　　the　Albatros　rolled　sharply　away；　but　not　before　Giordino　drilled　it　with　a　　fifteen　shot　clip　from　the　carbine。
　The　grim；　incongruous　drama　in　the　smoke…ridden　sky　over　Brady　Field　reached　a　　new　stage　as　the　World　War　II　flying　boat　squared　off　against　the　World　War　I　fighter　plane。　The　PBY　was　faster；　but　the　Albatros　had　the　advantage　of　two　machine　guns　and　a　vastly　higher　degree　of　maneuverability。　The　Albatros　was　　lesser　known　than　its　famous　counterpart；　the　Fokker；　but　it　was　an　excellent　　fighter　and　the　workhorse　of　the　German　Imperial　Air　Service　from　1916　to　1918。　The　Albatros　twisted；　turned　and　zeroed　in　on　the　PBY's　cockpit。　Pitt　acted　　quickly　and　yanked　the　controls　back　into　his　lap　and　prayed　the　wings　would　　stay　glued　to　the　fuselage　as　the　lumbering　flying　boat　struggled　into　a　loop。　　He　forgot　caution　and　the　accepted　rules　of　flying；　the　exhilaration　of　　man…to…man　bat　surged　In　his　blood。　He　could　almost　hear　the　rivets　popping　　as　the　PBY　twisted　over　on　its　back。　The　unorthodox　evasive　action　caught　his　　opponent　off　guard；　and　the　twin　streams　of　fire　from　the　yellow　plane　went　　wide；　missing　the　Catalina　pletely。
　The　Albatros　then　made　a　steep　left　hand　turn　and　came　straight　at　the　PBY；　and　they　approached　head…on。　Pitt　could　see　the　other　　plane's　tracer　bullets　streaking　about　ten　feet　under　his　windshield。　Lucky　for　　us　this　guy's　a　lousy　shot；　he　thought。　He　had　a　weird　feeling　in　his　stomach　as　　the　two　planes　sped　together　on　a　collision　course。　Pitt　waited　until　the　last　　possible　instant　before　he　pushed　the　nose　of　the　PBY　down　and　swiftly　banked　　around；　gaining　a　brief；　but　favorable　position　over　the　Albatros。　Again　　Giordino　opened　fire。
　But　the　yellow　Albatros　dived　out　of　the　spitting　hail　from　the　carbine　and　shot　　vertically　toward　the　ground；　and　Pitt　momentarily　lost　sight　of　it　He　swung　to　　the　right　in　a　steep　turn　and　searched　the　sky。　It　was　too　late。　He　sensed；　　rather　than　felt；　the　thumping　from　a　river　of　bullets　that　tore　into　the　flying　　boat。　Pitt　threw　his　plane　into　a　violent　falling　leaf　maneuver　and　successfully　　dodged　the　smaller　plane's　deadly　sting。　It　was　a　narrow　escape。
　The　uneven　battle　continued　for　a　full　eight　minutes　while　the　military　　spectators　on　the　ground　watched；　spellbound。　The　strange　aerial　dogfight　slowly　　drifted　eastward　over　the　shoreline；　and　the　final　round　began。
　Pitt　was　sweating　now。　Small　glistening　beads　of　the　salty　liquid　were　bursting　　from　the　pores　on　his　forehead　and　trickling　in　snail…like　trails　down　his　face。　His　opponent　was　cunning；　but　Pitt　was　playing　the　strategy　game　too。　With　　infinite　patience；　dredged　up　from　some　hidden　reserve　in　his　body；　he　waited　　for　the　right　moment；　and　when　it　finally　arrived　he　was　ready。
　The　Albatros　managed　to　get　behind　and　slightly　above　the　Catalinia　Pitt　held　　his　speed　steady　and　the　other　pilot；　sensing　victory；　closed　to　within　fifty　　yards　of　the　flying　boat's　towering　tail　section。　But　before　the　two　machine　　guns　could　speak；　Pitt　pulled　the　throttle　back　and　lowered　the　flaps；　slowing　　the　big　craft　into　a　near　stall。　The　phantom　pilot；　taken　by　surprise；　overshot　　and　passed　the　PBY；　receiving　several　well　placed　rounds　In　the　Albatros'　engine　　as　the　carbine　spat　at　near　point…blank　range。　The　vintage　plane　banked　in　front　　of　Pitt's　bow；　and　he　watched　with　the　respect　one　brave　man　has　for　another　　when　the　occupant　in　the　open　cockpit　pushed　up　his　goggles　and　threw　a　curt　　salute。。　Then　the　yellow　Albatros　and　its　mysterious　pilot　turned　away　and　　headed　west　over　the　island；　trailing　a　black　streak　of　smoke　that　testified　to　　the　accuracy　of　Giordino's　marksmanship。
　The　Catalina　was　falling　out　of　its　stall　into　a　dive　now；　and　Pitt　fought　the　　controls　for　a　few　unnerving　seconds　before　he　regained　stable　flight。　Then　he　　began　a　sweeping；　upward　turn　in　the　sky。　At　five　thousand　feet　he　leveled　off　　and　searched　the　island　and　seascape；　but　no　trace　of　the　bright　yellow　plane　　with　the　maltese　cross　markings　was　visible。　It　had　vanished。　A　cold；　clammy　feeling　crept　over　Pitt。　The　yellow　Albatros　had　somehow　seemed　　familiar。　It　was　as　though　an　unremembered　ghost　from　the　past　had　returned　to　　haunt　him。　But　the　eerie　sensation　passed　as　quickly　as　it　had　arrived；　and　he　　gave　out　a　deep　sigh　as　the　tension　faded　away；　and　the　wele　fort　of　　relief　gently　soothed　his　mind。
　〃Well；　when　do　I　get　my　sharpshooter's　medal？　said　Giordino　from　the　cabin　　doorway。　He　was　grinning　despite　a　nasty　gash　in　his　scalp。　The　blood　streamed　　down　the　right　side　of　his　face；　staining　the　collar　of　a　loud；　flowered　print　　shirt。
　〃After　we　land　I'll　buy　you　a　drink　instead；〃　replied　Pitt　without　turning。　Giordino　slipped　into　the　co…pilot's　seat。　〃I　feel　like　I've　just　ridden　the　　roller　coaster　at　the　Long　Beach　Pike。〃
　Pitt　could　not　help　grinning。　He　relaxed；　leaning　back　against　the　back　rest；　　saying　nothing。　Then　he　turned　and　looked　at　Giordino；　and　his　eyes　squinted。　〃What　happened　to　you？　Were　you　hit？〃
　Giordino　gave　Pitt　a　mocking。　a　sorrowful　look。
　〃Who　ever　told　you　that　you　could　loop　a　PBY？〃
　〃It　seemed　like　the　thing　to　do　at　the　time；〃　said　Pitt；　a　twinkle　in　his　eye。
　〃Next　time；　warn　the　passengers。　I　bounced　around　the　main　cabin　like　a　basketball。〃
　〃What　did　you　hit　your　head　on？〃　Pitt　asked　quizzically。
　〃Did　you　have　to　ask？〃
　〃Well？〃
　Giordino　suddenly　became　embarrassed。　〃If　you　must　know；　it　was　the　door　handle　　on　the　john？
　Pitt　looked　startled　for　an　instant。　Then　he　flung　back　his　head　and　roared　with　　laughter。　The　mirth　was　contagious；　and　Giordino　soon　followed。　The　sound　rang　　through　the　cockpit　and　replaced　the　noise　of　the　engines。　Nearly　thirty　seconds　　passed　before　their　gaiety　quieted；　and　the　seriousness　of　the　present　s