Woody paused and pointed to a spot on the map he had made of the Luebeck area.
"One other thing, Colonel. During our last reconnaissance a couple of days ago, we noticed some activity in this grove to the south of this one Dennie encampment. Right about here. We'd already expended our rockets and we didn't get too close. Don't know what it is, but it looked like tents and buildings of some sort. I recommend we give it another look this afternoon. Maybe one of us can make a low pass, while the other flies cover. No telling when we'll have two aircraft here, again."
The idea was tempting, but . . .
Jesse hesitated, glancing at Mike. This was already a somewhat risky enterprise, flying the USE's prime minister into a city under siege. Adding into the bargain getting him involved in an actual combat operation . . .
But Mike just grinned. "Sure, Jesse, go ahead. Don't mind me. Actually, I'd like to see how it works. Give me a much better sense of what 'air power' does or doesn't mean in the here and now."
There was always that about Stearns. He was a politician, sure enough, and had most if not all the vices of the breed. But you couldn't ever accuse the man of lacking balls. Even brass ones, in his case.
Jesse finished replaying the briefing in his mind. The flight from Wismar to Luebeck hadn't taken more than twenty-five minutes and he could see they were nearing the city. The radio crackled and Woody's steady voice came out of the speaker.
"Two, this is Lead. Approaching Luebeck and descending to one thousand feet. Luebeck Radio should be listening." A pause, then: "Luebeck, Luebeck, this is the Richter Express, five minutes out."
Whoever was manning the radio for Gustav Adolf was on the ball.
"Guten Tag, Richter Express, Luebeck here. Have you brought presents for the enemy, today? They've been getting lonely this past day or so."
"Roger that, Luebeck," Woodsill confirmed. He sounded amused. "And some visitors. Better send for His Majesty."
"Roger, Express. Ein moment, bitte."
The Swedish king must have been nearby. The sound of someone fumbling with a microphone and a muffled, "Closer to your mouth, Your Majesty" was followed by the unmistakable voice of command.
"Hallå där, Lieutenant Woodsill. Do you have Colonel Wood with you?"
"Yes, sir. Stand by, please. Go ahead, Two."
Jesse was ready. "Good afternoon sir. Colonel Wood here. As promised, we have your mail and will deliver it shortly."
They didn't think anyone had sold the Ostenders a radio yet, but communications security was always a good idea. The enemy would soon know there were two aircraft in the area, but there was no sense in letting anyone, even the radio operator, know who Jesse's passenger was. Word had already been passed to Gustav Adolf by coded message the day before.
"Very good, Colonel," the bemused sounding monarch replied. "All is in waiting for you."
"Yes, sir, thank you. But first, we must deliver some gifts to your neighbors. We will call again in fifteen minutes."
"We will be ready for you, Colonel."
Jesse clicked the mike. He looked over to see Mike Stearns give a thumbs up and gave one in return. Time to get to work.
"Lead, this is Two."
"Two, Lead."
"It's your show, Lieutenant. Call the shots."
The Richter Express, flight of two, flew low over the besieged battlements of Luebeck. As they passed, Jesse paid close attention to the flat green just outside the city's east wall. Thousands of faces craned upward, mouths open, cheering wildly. Most of those cheering people, whether noblemen, soldiers, or peasants, had never seen an aircraft until two months ago. Waggling their wings, the aircraft flew the length of the city and then turned westward towards a decidedly less friendly audience.
As had been briefed, the aircraft overflew the enemy encampment, the pilots taking careful note of potential targets. From high above, the camp looked like a disturbed ants' nest, as men scattered or ran to their posts. Jesse could see no tent city, no large horse herd, no grouping of flags and standards—which would seem to indicate that air power had already made an impact on this bit of seventeenth-century warfare. Siege cannon facing the city were thoroughly dug in, even from the rear and, all around, men were jumping in holes dug into the frozen earth. A large train of wagons was hurriedly pulling off the road leading into the camp from the west. By now, traders and camp followers knew the danger as well as any soldier. As the aircraft passed the camp, Woody gave his first order.
"Two, maintain orbit at one thousand feet just south of camp. Rejoin on command."