| Subject: Hmm, no more explaining needed. OK, inside for next... |
Author:
Dakkan
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Date Posted: 21:00:26 07/18/03 Fri
In reply to:
Dakkan Strongrudder
's message, "Dakkan writes again! (bwahahahaha!!)" on 01:36:46 07/08/03 Tue
Nigel’s Spitfire waggled its wings slowly; the closest bomber returned the gesture. “OK chaps, we’ve been recognized!” the British rabbit radioed.
A sharp series of bangs erupted. Startled, Dakkan pulled his bird up, slightly out of formation.
Ebonar swore loudly. “Missed!” he growled…then remembered that his radio was still connected. “I mean, uh…”
“Did you mean to shoot at my matey?!” Zorro sounded shocked and enraged.
Ebonar struggled to think of an excuse. “Um, I saw a German…”
“Right in front of you? Funny, I’d think they’d come at us from below. Or even from behind. But hide in the middle of our formation?” Kit sneered.
The wolf panicked. There was no way he could explain his way out of this one; they knew! Dropping out of formation, he set his sight on Dakkan’s plane and grabbed the trigger again. He’d get the otter at least before they could discipline him…
Dakkan banked and flew off with Ebonar’s Spitfire on his tail. “You idiot!” the otter roared as he began evasive maneuvers.
“Stay still, you blasted…goody two-shoes! You…showoff! You…rraagh!” snarled Ebonar as he tried to make strikes on his rival’s ducking and weaving aircraft.
Dakkan felt a few bullets connect, but not many. It was lucky he was much more skilled in maneuverability than Ebonar.
“Oi! What d’you think you’re doing, you psycho?!” bellowed Zorro in fury. He, Kit, and Lobo flew off in pursuit of the black wolf’s plane.
Ebonar’s Spit shuddered violently as bullets from three sources slammed home from behind. He tried to duck around, but his flaps had been damaged to the point of uselessness. A screeching tirade of swearing and insults spewed from his plane, reaching a crescendo as Kit buzzed closer and sent a rain of lead through the blur of his propeller. The engine whined in protest and the propeller sputtered to a halt, bent grotesquely from the attack.
“You’re clear!” Lobo called up to Dakkan, who turned and rejoined his friends. They watched Ebonar’s plane as it nose-dived down to earth. Presently a parachute opened – he’d bailed out.
“Hope the Nazis catch him,” Dakkan spat, sounding a little shaken.
“’Ey, Little Friends,” came a voice on the radio. “The is Captain Kabal, pilot of the bomber Werewolf.”
Limpear’s quick eye found the bomber, the nose painted with the likeness of a huge wolf. “Commander Limpear of the ‘F’ Fighter Group. We’re here for escort duty.”
“What was that little drama there? Was it a Hun?”
“A German? No. We had a traitor in our midst…or a jealous pilot who tried to shoot down another.”
“Looks like you got him good enough. Shall we carry on to the target?”
“Yeah. Nobody jettisoned their drop tanks, so we’ll have enough fuel. Carry on!”
The landing was harder than Ebonar had expected, even with a parachute. Grumbling and cursing under his breath, the wolf threw the shroud lines away and rubbed his bruised feet.
A swift, sharp question burst out of the bushes. “Who’s there? Freeze!”
The voice was speaking German. Ebonar had a pretty good knowledge of the language, as his grandparents had both come from Germany.
“I am a downed pilot,” he replied, slowly raising his paws to show that he was unarmed. “My comrades betrayed me and shot me down. I wish to defect to your side and serve the Führer.”
The soldier in the bushes showed himself, holding a machine gun cradled in his arms. He was a rat, with pure white fur from nose to tail. He seemed impressed with Ebonar’s German. “Come with me,” he said, beckoning. “We’ll see if you can serve.”
The black wolf kept his paws in the air and followed the rat. His eyes strayed upward, and he bared his teeth at the now distant shapes of planes overhead. Suddenly, his face contorted into a malevolent grin as he realized that by joining the Luftwaffe, he could possibly have another crack at shooting Dakkan down.
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