"005 (B019) - Pirate of the Pacific (1933-07) - Lester Dent" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robeson Kenneth)

SLANT-EYED men poured into the hangar. No orders were uttered. The half-caste Orientals were still following their plan. Their efficiency was terrible, deadly. The whole group worked as one unit, an expert killing machine.



Two opened the hangar doors. Others busied themselves making four pursuit planes ready for the air. These ships were the most modern craft. yet the sinister men showed familiarity with the mechanism.



Three yellow raiders rushed up to the planes. carrying guns and bombs. The guns were quickly attached. the bombs were racked in clips on the undersides of the planes.



More men secured four parachutes from a locker room. No time was wasted in scampering about the airport hunting for things. They knew exactly where everyt hing was located.



The planes were strong-armed out of the hangars. Four Orientals dug goggles and helmets out of their clothing. The helmets were a brilliant red color.



The men cinched on the parachutes, then plugged into the cockpits. The scarlet helmets made them resemble a quartet of red-headed woodpeckers.



Exhaust thunder galloped across the tarmac as the motors started. Prop-streams tore dust from under the ships and pushed it away in squirming masses.



The planes flung along the runway, vaulted off, and slanted up into the now moon-whitened sky.



The Orientals who had been left behind lost no time in quitting the airport. Racing to the three laundry trucks, they entered, and drove hastily away.



Three or four minutes after the planes departed, no one was left at the airport. The two watchmen lay where they had dropped, still unconscious. In the ditch beside the road sprawled the three slain drivers of the laundry trucks.



The adjacent countryside slept on peacefully. The four planes booming overhead attracted no attention, since night flying was not unusual even at this quiet port.



Within ten minutes, Long Island Sound was crawling under the craft. The surface of the Sound was like a faintly pitted silver plate, shimmering in the brilliant moonlight.