condensed master

27
The Reluctant Agent
A Compelling Story of Espionage
They carried on talking for awhile and Will began to feel good about things
again. Wes was like a port in a storm to him at this time, and life was to become
more normal until the forthcoming event in Aden. Thanks to Wes, Will now
regarded that as just another day.
Thirty-six hours after leaving Algiers enemy aircraft were sighted approaching
the convoy. Will was in his cabin when the alarms sounded, but before dropping
the deadlight over the cabin porthole he looked across the blue water into the
distance to see what appeared to be a swarm of bees hovering over the horizon.
Calculating that they would only be about 20 to 25 miles away, Will quickly
slipped on his life jacket and ran up to his emergency station.
Arriving on deck anti-aircraft fire had started, the sky already filled with puffs
of black smoke as the shells exploded. Rumours were rife regarding the origins of
the attack, but it was soon confirmed that they were planes from the Italian Air
Force. With this information everyone began to relax.
Benito Mussolini, the Italian dictator, had involved Italy in the war on the side
of Hitler's Germany, but Italy was not a fighting nation, especially with the Nazis,
who were constantly humiliating them. Lacking the reason to fight, men would
literally surrender their arms when under attack. Will had an occasion to transport
them as prisoners back to England, feeling genuinely sorry for their misplaced
plight.
The aircraft could be seen quite clearly now, but flying at a high altitude. Loud
cheering broke out as they all dropped their bombs some two or three miles away
from the convoy and turning sharply, headed north in the direction of Italy or
Greece. That was a relief everybody thought, but suddenly tension rose again, as
a lone aircraft appeared, flying at masthead height towards the convoy.
Being so low in the sky the guns could not be brought to bear in fear of hitting
a neighbouring ship. Will stood watching as the plane proceeded through the
convoy dropping bombs as it went. Passing abreast of Will's ship he could clearly
see the markings on it's side and wings, and the head of the pilot. He would never
forget the noise of the plane's engine, likening it to that of a motorcycle.
Not one bomb found a target, only leaving a trail of water spouts between the
ships as they exploded. Someone shouted from a gun turret. "What's that bloody
fool doing?” another gunner responded. "Look astern, he's about to commit
suicide!"