Dave and Freddy thanked him and went scurrying aft and down the steps to 'tween decks and the Ready Room. The place was already half filled, and other pilots came hurrying in after them. There was an air of eager expectancy about the room that seemed to charge it with high voltage electricity. The Executive Flight Officer, and the Senior Section Leader, stood waiting on the little raised platform at the far end of the room. Behind them hung a huge detailed chart of that section of the Pacific west and south of the Hawaiian Islands. Colored pins dotted its surface, and the bright light hung above it made the little pins glitter and sparkle like so many precious stones. Five minutes after Dave and Freddy arrived the room was packed, the doors were closed, and a hushed silence had settled down. The Executive Flight Officer cleared his throat, stepped to the edge of the platform, and grinned faintly. "Don't get in too much of a sweat," he said. "This doesn't mean that Battle Stations is going to sound in the next hour or so. However, we're getting close to the rendezvous point, and there's some work for us to do. In short, we're steaming into Jap waters now, more or less, and we don't want to be caught with our wings folded. In fact, if we are to run into unexpected action, we want to be ready to throw the first punch, and make it count." The senior officer paused, walked back to the map and touched a little gold-headed pin. "That's the Indian," he said. "That's our position right now. We're a day's run from the cruiser squadron we are to meet, but we're plenty near some of the Pacific islands that the Japs may be using for submarine fuel bases. In the air, or on deck, we've got to be on our toes every minute from now on. A torpedo or two in us now, and the whole operation would be in danger of complete collapse. Also, we've got to watch out for any Jap surface ships that may be on the hunt for us. That's where you fellows come in. You've got to find any such ships, and give them the works, before they can get the chance to spot the Indian and her escort. In short, you fellows have got to see to it that _nothing_ gets near the Indian from here on in." The Executive Flight Officer paused again, and shrugged. "Of course it's quite possible that we won't run into any trouble at all," he said presently. "Maybe we'll just waste gas and oil maintaining a constant patrol. That's unimportant, though. The point is, we can't run any risks of getting snarled up in any kind of an engagement before we make the rendezvous. So from now on every one of you is on constant twenty-four-hour duty. The section patrols are all plotted. Your own Section Leader will give you your chart copy each time you take the air. Stick to the course plotted for you, and don't worry about what the other fellow is doing. Just tend to your own knitting. Now, here's one thing to remember every second of the time you're away from the carrier."