Fire Eye Read Free Page B

sun. He saw no other aircraft and assumed the one below to be a straggler from the main group that had made good its escape.
    He pushed the control column forward and to the right to dive upon the unsuspecting bomber. He tried to reduce the deflection angle as he dived down for a high tail attack because the mixture of 7.7 mm machine guns and 20 mm cannon that armed his aircraft were mismatched in trajectory. He used the manoeuvrability of the Zero to place him in a good firing position as well as to avoid the twin fifty-calibre machine guns in the top turret. As a veteran of the war in China, he didn’t need to fire any ranging shots.
    As the Zero built up speed in the dive out of the sun, his thumb felt for the small rocking lever on top of the throttle that selected machine guns and cannon when pushed forward. As the range closed between the aircraft, his finger touched the firing button on the front of the throttle handle. He pressed it and watched the tracers slam into the bomber and felt the vibration of the guns. With a strong but gentle pull on the control stick he pulled through the vertical and rolled inverted for another diving, slashing attack against the bomber. He sensed the bomber skidding away from him as the pilot kicked rudder. He hit the firing button again and briefly saw some flashing strikes among the misses. He rolled upright, slammed the throttle forward for full power from the Sakae engine, working the rudder and ailerons for a steep climbing turn to position for an attack from three quarter rear to avoid the tail guns. He saw his shells punch into the fuselage of the bomber and then suddenly the stream of dancing fire stopped as the ammunition ran out.
    He pulled the throttle back and kicked the rudder side to side to slow the aircraft so that he could formate off the port wing tip of the wounded bomber. He could see the dorsal gunner slumped inside the shattered Perspex of his turret, lifted his goggles and calmly lit a cigarette while he studied the aircraft. He could plainly see the damage it had sustained, the blood that splattered the inside of the dorsal turret, the shattered windscreen and the dying engine. He continued to study the bomber with its high-set gull wing and beautiful lines communicating power and purpose. He admired the punishment the aircraft had taken yet still managed to keep flying. Even he had to acknowledge that Japan’s own Mitsubishi bomber would have been a flaming wreck spiralling down to the ocean below with far less damage. He knew that after Pearl Harbour, American industry would pump out aircraft like this by the thousand. Nippon must consolidate its new empire so that American supply lines became too long to manage. He understood that peace was better for both countries, but if the war continued modern Samurai like him would do their duty.
    The dying bomber was so close he could see the face of the American pilot struggling to keep it flying. Isao looked into the eyes of the other pilot. He lifted his finger in salute to acknowledge the skill with which the American had fought his aircraft, pulled a tight turn to port and set a course back to base.
    He would let chance decide the fate of the bomber.

Chapter Two

    Alexander stands at the lights waiting for them to change, watching the Monaro do a U-turn and blast through the intersection as the lights turn red. The power of the car is being exploited with controlled discipline and a hint of rebellion, pushing the boundaries to the limit. She gives a slight smile as she recognises a similar spirit. Visualising herself behind the wheel, she walks across the road into the foyer of her hotel, heading straight for the lift. While she is excited about taking the first step in the project, Alexander is also uneasy. Something is stirring within her soul. Instinct warns that Jed Mitchell could be trouble, big time trouble. She finds the key card for the unit and enters the room. Throwing her bag down on the couch, she