The night fighter was a Flying Tiger, but would he spare the old Robin? The fighter came back and circled over the Robin. Its pilot seemed puzzled and undecided, which was to be expected. No one would expect to meet a Curtiss Robin sailing through the Burma sky.
The P–40 kept circling and diving as Stan bored along toward Rangoon. He spotted the blind lights at the landing field, set wide and away from the runways to fool the enemy. Easing over, he went on down. He did not worry about ground fire. He could not fail so close to home.
No guns blazed and the field was clear of planes. The Robin jolted down and rolled toward a hangar. Men came running toward the ship. Stan climbed out and faced them. The first man to get to him was Allison.
“You old sinner! I said you’d come flying back in a borrowed crate!” Allison shouted. “O’Malley called in from patrol that he had you covered.”
“How did O’Malley know?” Stan asked amazed.
“Well,” he said, “you have the insignia of the United States on your wings.”
“That Thai rascal is pretty smart, only this time it worked against him,” Stan said.
At that moment a P–40 roared to life beside a hangar. It came across the field wide open, hopped off and knifed up out of sight.
“Who was that?” Stan shouted to the ground crew who had wheeled the P–40 out on the field.
“That was Colonel Munson going up for a bit of night air, sir,” a corporal answered.
“He got away,” Stan snapped. “I have to get to division headquarters right away. Get Commander Fuller there, will you, Allison?” Stan was off at a lope.
Stan’s story told in clipped sentences over the telephone brought an immediate response from the Chinese commander, as well as from the British and American officers attached to the force. Colonel Fuller was in a furious mood when Stan, with Allison and O’Malley at his side, barged into the control room.
The headquarters at Rangoon was temporary and planned to be moved wherever China might need the Flying Tigers most. Colonel Fuller had been handling twice as much work as one officer could handle. He now strode across the room and faced Stan.
“My compliments, Major Wilson. You have saved me from being taken in by a scoundrel.”
“It couldn’t be Colonel Munson, by any chance?” O’Malley asked with a grin.