A thousand suns

‘That’ll do,’ said Max, taking it from him and hastily ripping a long strip from the silky fabric. He held the wrench against Stef’s thigh.

‘Is that still tight?’

Stef nodded, gritting his teeth. Max wound the parachute fabric firmly around his leg and the wrench, binding them tightly together.

‘This should hold up if you don’t move around. If you start leaking, for God’s sake give me a shout and we’ll tighten this thing up again.’ He patted him on the cheek. ‘We need you with us, right?’

‘Yes, sir.’

Max’s eyebrows knitted in a mock frown. ‘Call me “sir” one more time and I’ll undo it and let you bleed to death.’

Stef grinned. ‘Yes, Max.’

‘When Hans has brought you your things, I need you to give me your best guess on our position now. Think you can do that?’

Stef gave Max a thumbs-up. His leather glove was black with drying blood.

‘Good lad,’ Max replied and then made his way forward, squeezing past Hans in the navigation booth. ‘Keep your eye on him, Hans, he’s lost a lot of blood,’ he muttered under his breath.

‘You think he’s going to make it?’

‘I don’t know. If he doesn’t lose any more, he might. Just keep an eye on his leg. The blood’s drying up now. If it looks wet again, then he needs to be tightened up some more.’

Max passed through the bulkhead into the bomb compartment, and stopped for a moment to look down at the small bomb, still resting snugly in its cradle. It appeared untouched by their skirmishes.

You’d better do what you’re supposed to do, you little shit.

He made his way into the cockpit, plugged into the comm. and disengaged the autopilot. He noticed that they had lost one of the Me-109s.

‘Schroder? You still there?’

‘Yes, Max. Gunter had to turn back, his fuel was running low.’

‘How are you doing? Surely you’ll need to head back soon?’

‘No… it looks like I’ll be staying alongside you for the duration.’

Both of them knew what that meant for Schroder.

‘How long have you got?’ Max asked.

‘Just under a half an hour’s worth, I would guess. Maybe less.’

‘You don’t think it’s worth a go turning round and trying for land?’

‘If I fly slow and low?’

‘There’s a chance for you, isn’t there?’

‘No. I think I’d be swimming the last bit, and to be honest with you, Max, I’m not a big fan of swimming.’

‘I understand. Anyway, we’re still within range of their P51s.. you might yet need to save our skins one more time.’

‘While I’ve fuel, I’ll do my best.’

Ten minutes passed with merciful peace as Max watched Schroder’s Messerschmitt hovering to their left, less than a hundred feet away, abreast with the bomber’s cockpit. He watched the man checking his instrumentation, occasionally looking up at the sky, around, keeping an eye out for any pursuing planes. Time and fuel ticked away too quickly and presently Max heard the engine of Schroder’s Messerschmitt cough and misfire.

Schroder looked across at him, and he heard the pilot’s voice. ‘I’m all out now. The engine’s beginning to skip.’

Pieter looked across at the fighter pilot. His distaste for the man had been replaced with a muted, begrudging respect at some point over the last twelve hours.

‘Poor bastard,’ he muttered to Max.

‘With your permission I’m going to take her up,’ said Schroder.

Max knew what the fighter pilot was up to. ‘Of course. You do what you have to, Schroder.’

‘Thank you. Well, it’s been an honour, gentlemen. I should think you’re now clear of any trouble from this side, good luck with the rest of it.’

‘Thank you. It was our honour too.’

Schroder nodded and waved at them and pulled his plane up and away into a steep climb.

‘What’s he planning to do?’

‘He’s going to throw her into a dive. The impact will give him a quick finish, I think that’s what he’s after.’

They watched him climb above them to 10,000 feet and level out. He held that position for a few seconds and then waggled the wings a couple of times before dropping the nose into a steep dive. The Me-109 plummeted through the sky half a mile away, and twenty seconds later it plunged into the sea. They watched a small, pale plume of water rise and fall, and a circle of foam fade away, leaving no trace of the airplane behind.

Pieter shook his head.

‘Better than bailing out here. Freeze or drown, they’re not great options.’

Max watched as a dark plume of oil began to stain the water where Schroder had hit. It blossomed on the calm ocean like a dark rose. He hoped it had been the quick finish the pilot was after.

‘Just us now, Pieter.’

‘Yes,’ he replied. His response was muted. ‘I suppose we’re all that’s left of the Luftwaffe — the last operational plane.’

‘Probably.’

He checked his watch and their airspeed. They had about twelve hours’ flying time to New York ahead of them. They were clear of any fighter threat now, and Pieter deserved a chance to spend some time doing something. It was time to hand over to him, and, in any case, he was suddenly aware of how tired he felt.

‘You can take her for a few hours,’ he said to Pieter. ‘I’m going to try and get some rest, if that’s possible.’