“We follow the shore line until we are at the center of the bay. The target is right there.” They dropped to ten thousand feet, then slowed down their plane and zoomed along over the shore line. They arrived at the target too soon for a clear view. For all that, they found something to do. “There’s a nasty little Zero on our tail,” Stew exclaimed. “Whatever shall we do?” he asked in mock terror. “It’s wicked to fight, besides, we promised not to.” “Put on your oxygen mask,” Jack commanded with a grin. “We’ll go up into the attic and talk it over.” They began climbing steeply. The Zero pilot came after them. They left his plane far behind. “Not so fast!” Stew warned. “He’ll get discouraged.” As if experiencing high altitude blues, Jack slowed his plane down to a crawl. Encouraged, the Jap put on full speed and came on for the kill. But Jack, as if by some miracle, put on a burst of speed to climb higher. This was repeated four times. Jack was beginning to wonder whether he was playing the game too long with a plane he did not entirely understand, when something appeared to go wrong with the enemy plane. It began to wobble, then to smoke. It lost altitude, then began turning over slowly. Faster—faster—faster it turned as it fell, until at last it was a mere black spot. “I think,” said Jack, “that this jet plane is the berries. And now,” he added in the next breath, “we’ll just go down and see what ships there are in the harbor. Get your pencil ready. Make the count as accurate as possible. Can’t tell about those Japs. They might not give us another chance.” “Accurate it shall be,” Stew replied grimly. “All right, here we go.” Jack tilted his plane. “We’ll come down so fast they can’t intercept us. We’ll level off at two thousand and skim along over the port and the bay. After that we’ll circle until the Zeros get tough, then we’ll reach for the stars.” They were away, with their plane singing a lovely tune as they rocketed downward toward the port and the sea. To Stew, the speed of their downward course was breath-taking, staggering; but he hung on, offered up a prayer, and before he knew it they were leveling off, gliding away, while he caught his breath at sight of the ships in the harbor. “Boy! We caught them with their steam down!” he exclaimed. His pencil was racing—two flat-tops, one big battle wagon, five cruisers, seven destroyers. In vain did he try to count the cargo ships and tankers anchored in the harbor or tied up to the docks. “Fifty or more,” he scribbled. “Ready for action!” Jack barked. Ten Zeros were coming at them. Stew threw back his canopy, gripped his gun and waited. Once again Jack started climbing. But two Zeros were above and others to the right of him. Like football players rushing to stop an end run, they were coming in fast.