"I could use a few hours of sleep," Hall admitted. He made his way to the pallet, covered himself with an army greatcoat.

He slept heavily, waking only to eat, to stretch his legs once when they landed to refuel and show their papers to a new set of officials, and, finally, when Segador shook him and told him to put on his parachute.

"We're near the border," Segador said. He had a map and a heavy black pencil in his left hand. "Can you put it on?"

Hall had worn similar chutes while flying with the R.A.F. over France.

He waved Snub Nose away with a derisive gesture. "Back to your nursery, _chico_," he said to the sergeant. "I was wearing chutes when you were in diapers."

"I'm sorry," Snub Nose said, deliberately misunderstanding, "we can't give you a diaper, senor. Just make believe you're wearing a diaper if you have to jump."

Hall looked out of the window. The late afternoon sun was beginning to wane.

"Look," Segador said, making a mark on the map. "We are here now. I'd planned on crossing our own borders just after dark. But we had a strong tail wind all the way. We're ahead of time."

"Good."

"It's not so good, Mateo. Most of the army is loyal, but for the last two months Gamburdo has been bringing the Germans back into the army."

"Germans?"

"We call them the Germans. I mean the sons of the _estancieros_ and the _senoritos_ who became officers under Segura while he had his Reichswehr experts running the army. Tabio kicked them out, but he neglected to shoot them. The b.a.s.t.a.r.ds are everywhere now. We have to a.s.sume that they know I left the country in a Douglas bomber. You might have been recognized in Havana or in Caracas by Falangist agents. The Germans are also able to put two and two together."

"I was very careful."

"But it cost two lives." Segador flipped a switch on the panel in front of his seat. "Attention, everyone," he said into his microphone.

"Lieutenant, how soon before we reach the national border?"

"If we maintain our air speed, Major, we are due to cross the border in less than forty minutes."

"Good. Come back here, please." Then, while the co-pilot left his seat up front and started back to the seats near the bomb bay, Segador continued talking. "Captain, you know what we must expect. The fliers are all loyal; I don't think they would shoot down one of our own planes without permission of their chief. But there are too many Germans in the A-A arm. We may have trouble from the ground."

"I can fly higher, sir. We are now at seven thousand."

"Take her up to nine." He turned to the navigator. "How much will that put between our belly and the mountain tops at the border?"

"Three thousand, Major."

"Not enough."

"We can climb higher and fly on oxygen," the captain suggested.

"No. We've got to take this chance," Segador said. There was not enough oxygen on board, and only the major knew that this was because the chief of the air arm feared the new officers who handled the oxygen depot.

"Navigator, take a look at my map." The pencil traced a straight line extending two hundred miles across the border. "Is this our course?"

"Yes, Major. We are flying on course now."

"Thanks." Segador looked at his watch, extended the pencil line another hundred miles into the country. "Snub Nose--how much flying time is left in our fuel tanks?"

"Three hours."

The point of the pencil came to rest at the end of the line Segador had drawn on the map. "Can we make this point on our gas and still have enough left to fly back to San Martin Airport _from the north_? It would mean flying a wide circle."

The navigator studied the map. "It can be done, sir."

"Good. Mateo, my plan is to drop by parachute with the negatives at this point. The plane is then to return and land at San Martin. You will then make your way to San Hermano by train and go directly to Gonzales by car."

"Will I be followed?"

"I have a man at San Martin. He will guide you."

"And you?"

"With luck, I'll be in San Hermano before you."

"All right."

"Nine thousand," the captain said. "Border ahead."

"Pour on the coals. Take your stations, men." Segador patted Snub Nose on the back as the youngster crawled into the gla.s.s bubble below the pilot's feet. The navigator went to the guns in the rear. "Stay here, Mateo," Segador ordered. He climbed into the mid-ship gun turret.

Hall had once been accustomed to being human super-cargo on board a fighting plane. This time the feeling irritated him. For want of something better to do, he took down a tommy gun from a rack near Segador's seat and examined it for dust and grease. It was immaculately kept. He laid it across his lap.

"Crossing the border now," the pilot announced.

The plane shot across the heavily wooded mountains, left them well behind in fifteen minutes. Hall followed the fading shadows of the plane as it sped over the foothills. In a few minutes, darkness would blot out the shadows, and then he would again know the strangely exhilarating feeling of being alone in the skies at night.

"Lieutenant," Segador said, "go up front and check the course."

The major and the sergeant remained at their guns. "More hills ahead,"

the navigator explained to Hall as he pa.s.sed.

"No lights," Segador ordered.

Hall walked forward, stood behind the men at the instruments. The navigator was making his readings under a shielded blue light. Millares, the pilot, pulled back on his stick, slightly, begging alt.i.tude at a minimum loss of air speed as he climbed to put more distance between the plane and the string of lower hills which lay across their course.

The navigator suddenly became very busy at his radio. "Major," he said into his microphone, "we are being called by a ground station. They've spotted us. They want to know who is in command, and what flight this is."

"Stick to your course," Segador answered. "Maximum speed." He crawled back to the main cabin.

"What shall I answer, Major?"

"Don't answer them. We'll just act as if we didn't pick up their signal."

"Yes, Major. They're repeating their request."

"Mateo," Segador said, "this is very bad. I don't know who controls the ground station. We can't take chances. I'm jumping as soon as it gets dark."

"That's a matter of minutes."