The Mediterranean Caper

4

It was a few minutes past five when Pitt arrived back at his quarters on Brady Field. Within seconds of discarding his sticky clothing, he was firmly entrenched on his back in a narrow shower stall. It was a tight fit; his head was crooked into one corner, his back pressed flat on the wet tile floor, and his hairy legs and feet thrust upward on a ninety degree angle in the opposite corner.

To anyone who might have peeked, it looked like a contorted and bone torturing position, but Pitt found it thoroughly comfortable and immensely satisfying. When time allowed, he always relaxed in the shower in this manner. Sometimes he dozed off, but mostly he used the simulated rainy atmosphere and the solitude to think. At this moment his mind simmered with a multitude of perplexing questions.

He mentally juggled the facts and unknowns together, seeking a pattern and trying to concentrate on the most important problems. It was no use. His mind eluded his grasp and stubbornly chewed on the minor and inconsequential riddle of the noiseless truck by the beach.

For some inexplicable reason the riddle irritated him and he endeavored vainly to shake it, but it remained. Finally he gave in to it and closed his eyes and recreated the scene, hoping to visualize a sign or solution.

Suddenly a blurred form appeared on the other side of the shower door.

“Hello in the shower,” Giordino’s voice rumbled over the running water. “You’ve been in there nearly half an hour. You must be thoroughly water-logged by now.”

Pitt resigned himself to the interruption and reached up and turned the faucet to off.

“You better hurry,” Giordino shouted. Then it occurred to him that the water was no longer running. He lowered his voice. “Colonel Lewis is on his way over— he’ll be here any second.

Pitt sighed. Pushing his body to a sitting position, he awkwardly struggled to his feet, nearly slipping on the slick tile floor. A towel sailed over the shower door, falling in folds around his head. The mere thought of being prodded and pushed in order to impress a higher ranking officer made the hairs on his neck bristle. He glared through the fuzzy glass panel.

“Tell Colonel Lewis he can play with himself while he waits.” His voice had a nice frost to it. “I’ll come out when I damn well feel like it,” he said succinctly. “Now get the hell out of my bathroom, you bastard, before I cram a bar of soap up your anal canal.” Abruptly, Pitt felt his checks heating. He hadn’t really meant to be rude to his old friend. Immediately sorry. he felt a wave of guilt “I’m sorry, Al. My mind was elsewhere.”

“Forget it.” Without another word Giordino shrugged and left the bathroom, closing the door behind him. Pitt briskly dried his lean body and then shaved. After he finished, he blew the tiny black hairs out of the Cordless electric shaver and patted his face with British Sterling after shave lotion. When he stepped into the bedroom, Giordino and Colonel Lewis were waiting.

Lewis sat on the edge of the bed and twisted one end of an immense red handlebar moustache. His large rosy face and twinkling blue eyes along with the large bush on his upper lip gave him the appearance of a jolly lumberjack. His movements and his speech were rapid, almost jerky, giving Pitt the impression that the Colonel had a pound of ground glass in his crotch.

“Sorry to break in on you like this,” boomed Lewis. “But I’m interested in knowing whether or not you’ve run onto anything substantial concerning the attack yesterday.”

Pitt was nude, but he didn’t give a damn. "No, nothing positive. I’ve several hunches and a couple of ideas, but very few absolute facts to build an airtight case with.”

“I was hoping you might have stumbled on a lead. My Air Investigation Squadron has struck out.”

“Have you found any remains of the Albatros?’ asked Pitt.

Lewis rubbed a hand across his sweaty forehead. “If that old crate crashed into the sea, it left no trace; not even a small oil slick. It and its pilot must have vanished into thin air.”

"Maybe it reached the mainland,” said Giordino. “Negative,” replied Lewis. “We can’t find a soul over there who saw it going or coming.”

Giordino nodded in agreement. “An old plane painted bright yellow with a top speed of only one hundred and three miles an hour couldn’t help but be noticed if it crossed over the strait into Macedonia.”

Lewis took out a package of cigarettes. “What really confuses me is the fact that the attack was well planned and executed. Whoever raided the field knew no aircraft were scheduled to land or take off during his strafing runs.”

Pitt buttoned his shirt and adjusted the gold oak leaves on his shoulders. “Obtaining information would be easy since everyone on Thasos probably knows that Brady Field becomes a ghost town on Sundays.

Actually this whole affair is very similar in strategy to the attack on Pearl Harbor by the Japanese down to the detail of sneaking in through a pass in the island mountain range.”

Lewis lit his cigarette, being careful not to singe his moustache. “You’re right, of course but there’s no doubt that your unexpected arrival in the flying boat: caught our attacker, as well as ourselves, off guard.

Our own radar failed to track your Catalina because you flew the last two hundred miles on the deck.”

He exhaled a cloud of smoke. “I can’t begin to tell you what a welcome surprise it was to see your old bird come thundering down out of the sun.”

“It must have surprised our friend in the Albatros too,” Giordino grinned. “You should have seen his jaw drop when he turned and saw us for the first time.”Pitt finished knotting his tie. “No one expected us because my flight plan did not include Brady Field. I originally planned to set down in the sea next to the First Attempt. That’s why our flying ghost and Brady Control were both unaware of our ETA.” He paused, reflecting as he looked down at Lewis. “I strongly suggest, Colonel, that you take extreme defensive measures. I’ve a feeling we haven’t seen the last of the yellow Albatros.”

Lewis stared up at Pitt curiously. “What makes you so certain he’ll return?”

Pitt’s eyes glinted. “He had a definite purpose for attacking the field, and it wasn’t to kill men or destroy aircraft belonging to the United States. His plan was simply to throw you into a panic.”

“What would he gain by that?” asked Giordino.

“Stop and think about it for a moment.” Pitt glanced at his watch, then to Lewis. “If this situation looked truly threatening and perilous, Colonel, you’d have to evacuate all American civilians to the mainland.”

“Yes, that’s true,” admitted Lewis. “But at the moment I see no reason to take such steps. The Greek government has assured me they’re offering, their complete cooperation in finding the pilot and plane.”

“But if you thought you had reason,” pressed Pitt. “Wouldn’t you also order Commander Gunn to remove the First Attempt from the Thasos area?”

Lewis’ eyes narrowed. “As a safety precaution, of course. That white ship makes one hell of an inviting target for an aerial sniper.”

Pitt flicked his Zippo and lit a cigarette. “Believe It or not, sir, that’s your answer.”

Giordino and Lewis looked at each other and then at Pitt, puzzled.

Pitt continued. “As you know, Colonel, Admiral Sandecker ordered Giordino and myself to Thasos to investigate the strange mishaps that have occurred during the NUMA’s offshore operations. This morning, while conversing with Commander Gunn, I discovered evidence of a sabotage which leads me to believe that there’s a definite connection between the raid and the accidents aboard the First Attempt.

Now, if we take this assumption one step further, we begin to see that Brady Field was not the main objective of our reincarnated adversary. The raid was only an indirect means of removing Commander Gunn and the First Attempt from Thasos.”

Lewis looked at Pitt thoughtfully. “I suppose the next question is why?”

“I don’t have an answer yet,” said Pitt. “But I’m certain our mysterious friend and his flair for dramatics has a high powered reason behind his game. He wouldn’t go to such devious lengths for penny ante stakes. He’s most likely hiding something of great value and the NUMA researchers on the ship are in a position to stumble onto it.”

“That something you speak of could be sunken treasure,” Lewis’ lips gleamed wetly.

Pitt pulled an overseas cap out of his suitcase and set it jauntily on his head. “That’s one obvious conclusion.”

A faraway look came Into Lewis’ eyes and he said softly, “I wonder what it could be and how much it’s worth?”

Pitt turned and faced Giordino. “Al, contact Admiral Sandecker and ask him to research all possible lost or sunken treasure troves in the Aegean Sea within spitting distance of Thasos and send us the data as soon as possible. Tell him it’s urgent.”

“Consider it done,” Giordino said. “It’s eleven o’clock in the morning in Washington so we should have an answer by breakfast.”

“Now we’re getting somewhere,” Lewis boomed.

“The sooner I get answers, the sooner I can get the Pentagon off my back. Is there any way I can help?”

Pitt glanced at his watch again. “As the Boy Scouts say — Be Prepared. That’s all we can do for the present. You can bet Brady Field and the First Attempt are being closely observed. When it comes apparent no one is being evacuated and the oceanography ship still floats out there on the Aegean, we can expect another visit from the yellow Albatros. You’ve had your fun, Colonel It’s my guess Commander Gunn’s turn is next.”

“Please tell the Commander,” said Lewis, “I’ll give him whatever assistance I have at my disposal.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Pitt. “But I don’t think It would be wise to warn Commander Gunn just yet.”

“For God’s sake, why not?” gasped Giordino.

Pitt grinned coldly. “So far, all of this is pure conjecture. Besides, any preparation on board the First Attempt would be a dead giveaway of our intentions. No, we’ve got to bait our unknown World War I ghost and bring him out into the open.”

Giordino looked at Pitt evenly. “You can’t risk the lives of the scientists and ship’s crew without giving them a chance to defend themselves.” “Gunn is in no immediate danger. Our ghost pilot will undoubtedly wait at least one more day to see if the First Attempt departs before he attacks again.” Pitt smiled until the mirth lines etched into the sides of his eyes. “In the meantime, I’ll put my creative talents to work on a plan for a trap.”

Lewis got to his feet and faced Pitt. ‘For the sake of those men on the ship, I hope you come up with a good one.”

“No plan is considered foolproof, Colonel,” replied Pitt, “until after it’s been applied.” Giordino walked toward the door. “I’ll run over to Base Operations and send that message to the Admiral.”

“When you’ve finished,” said Lewis, “drop by my quarters for supper.” Twisting his moustache, he turned to Pitt. “You’re invited too. I'll give you men a real treat and whip up my renowned specialty: scallops with mushrooms in white wine sauce.”

“It sounds very appetizing,” said Pitt. “But I’m afraid I must decline. I have a previous dinner engagement… with a very attractive lady.”

Giordino and Lewis could only gawk at him in dazed amazement. Pitt tried to look nonchalant. “She’s sending a car to pick me up at the main gate at six. I have just two minutes and thirty seconds to get there, so I’d best be leaving. Good evening, Colonel, and thank you for your invitation. I hope you’ll give me a rain check." He faced Giordino. “Al, let me know the minute the Admiral’s reply comes in.” Pitt turned and opened the door and left the room.

Lewis slowly shook his head. “Is he bull-shitting or does he really have a date with a girl?”

“I’ve never known Dirk to bull-shit about women, sir,” said Giordino. He was beginning to enjoy Lewis’ state of shock.

“But where did he meet her? To my knowledge he hasn’t been anywhere except the field and the ship.

Giordino shrugged. “Beats me. But knowing Pitt as I do, It wouldn’t surprise me if he picked up a girl on the hundred yards between the main gate and the First Attempt’s loading dock.”

Lewis’ booming laugh cracked across the room. “Well come along, Captain. I’m not a sexy girl but at least I can cook. How about some of my scallops?”

“Why not?” said Giordino. “That’s the best offer I’ve had all afternoon.”