"Just didn't have time to call you before lunch. We'll be flying down to
a place called San Rosario in the Caribbean."
At one o'clock Tom briefed the flight crews and technicians. Slim was
provided with three men who had worked on the original model of the
quake deflector. After making sure that every man knew his job, Tom had
the groups flown by helicopter over to the Swift Construction Company
airfield.
Tom and Bud's cargo jet was the second to take off. On signal from the
tower, the big workhorse thundered down the runway and soared off into
the blue. Soon it was spearing southward above the waters of the
Atlantic.
Presently Bud drew Tom's attention to some blurry specks of light on the
radarscope. "Looks like a formation of planes, skipper."
Tom studied the blips for a while. "Guess you're right. It's sure not a
flock of sea gulls!" The young inventor frowned.
"Worried, Tom?" Bud asked quietly.
Tom shrugged. "It could be a routine military flight."
He increased speed and climbed for altitude. But the blips on the
radarscope showed that the planes were coming steadily closer. It was
clear that they were targeting on the Swift cargo jet.
Tom switched on the radio. Presently a voice crackled over their
headphones:
"Calling Swift jet!" The voice was heavily accented.
"Brungarians!" Bud muttered.
Tom made no reply to the radio challenge. Again came the voice:
"Calling Swift jet! Make emergency landing on the water!"
Tom's only response was a fresh burst of speed.
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