"To total four hours' sleep in three days is not," Mallory said feelingly. Mallory looked furtively at the commodore. Scowling, wordlessly and without permission, he sat down in front of them, produced a pack of cigaottes and rasped a match across the surface of the table. He had an Anzac bush helmet crushed on the back of his head, and the word "Australia" emblazoned in white across each khaki shoulder. The commodore, flanked by Jensen and Mallory, was sitting behind this when the door opened abruptly and the first of the flying crews entered, blinking rapidly in the fierceness of the unaccustomed light They were led by a dark-haired, thick-set pilot, trailing helmet and flying-suit in his left hand. The furniture consisted of some battered wall-maps and charts, a score or so of equally scuffed chairs and an unvarnished deal table. The interrogation room, harshly lit by two powerful, unshaded lights, was uncomfortable and airless. "May I have a word with the Squadron Leader?" Because I'm not God and I can't do the impossible." There was a flat finality in Torrance's voice that carried conviction, that brooked no argument. Because I don't believe in sacrificing good blokes for nothing. Bill, these gentlemen here-Captain Jensen of the Royal Navy, Captain Mallory of the Long Range Desert Group-have a very special interest in Navarone. Squadron Leader Torrance," he added unnecessarily, "is an Australian." Mallory had the impression that the commodore rather hoped this would explain some things, Squadron Leader Torrance among them. "Gentlemen, this is Squadron Leader Torrance. I'm beginning to think that you can count yourself damn' lucky to have had even that much." "Four hours' sleep, Captain Mallory," he said quietly. The old crate was still awash when we passed over, the big dinghy was out and it was as smooth as a millpond. has often been questioned, but even we aren't given to sending a flying-boat for the sole purpose of enabling junior officers to spend a month wasting their substance among the flesh-pots of Cairo," be finished dryly. But where you got the idea about leave I don't know. I'm sure you are-I was pretty sure you were before I pulled you out of Crete. Just wanted to find out if you were the man for the job. "Of course you didn't!" Jensen cut in briskly. "Too bloody right, I don't!" Torrance growled.įor a long time Jensen stared at the holes and scars of the damaged machine, then shook his head and looked away. and order one of us to crash-dive it at four hundred into the mouth of the gun cave. #FALLOUT 76 TREASURE MAPS FULL#Not," he added bitterly, "unless you cram a Mosquito full of T.N.T. But I do know that nothing we've got has a snowball's chance in hell. "Maybe a Dornier flyingboat with one of these new-fangled radio-controlled glider-bombs might do it and get off with it. At least, it's impossible for us." He drew a weary hand down his face. So are the lives of all these jokers." Torrance jerked a big thumb over his shoulder.
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