United States or American Samoa ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Yet he was over the UFO. He came within less than 2,000 feet of the UFO when he passed over it; yet he couldn't recognize it as a balloon even though he thought it might be a balloon since the tower had just told him that there was one in the area. He said that he followed the UFO around the north edge of the airfield.
"I'll organize a search right away. Where are you calling from?" "Police headquarters at Sandbank." "Okay. Take it easy, and I'll send a whirlybird to pick you up," Tom promised. "And don't forget some clothes," Bud added with a chuckle. "Mel and I are getting chilly." "Right!" Tom hung up and gave Arv Hanson a quick briefing. Then he phoned the base airfield to dispatch a helicopter.
"Yes, sir," said Joe. "But I called you back from the airfield," the Major told him without warmth, "to say that you have done a good job. I have talked to Washington. Naturally, you deserve a reward." "I'm doing all right, sir," said Joe awkwardly. "I want to see the Platform go up and stay up!" The Major nodded impatiently. "Naturally!
Meanwhile your ah work crew will start to repair the one that is here." "Yes, sir." "And," said the Major, "I am sending you to the pushpot airfield. I intend to scatter the targets the saboteurs might aim at. You are one of them. Your crew is another. From time to time you will confer with them and verify their work. If any of them should be disposed of, you will be able to instruct others."
"You see, sir?" said Joe uneasily. "The pushpots could be fueled a hundred times over with perfectly good fuel, and then one tank in one of them would explode when drawn on. There'd be no pattern in the explosions...." Major Holt said coldly: "Of course I see! It would need only one tank of doctored fuel to be delivered to the airfield, and it need not be used for weeks.
So while he was still wobbly on his feet and would be for days to come, his disposition was vastly improved. There was nobody waiting on the airfield by the town of Bootstrap, but as they landed a black car came smoothly out and stopped close by the transport. Joe got down and climbed into it. Sally Holt was inside.
"Maybe I'm crazy, but there was that sandy-haired guy who put his hand up in the wheel well back at that last field. And this don't feel right!" The plane swept on. The airfield passed below it. The co-pilot very cautiously let go of the wheel release, which when pulled should let the wheels fall down from their wells to lock themselves in landing position. He moved from his seat.
You won't let yourself cry, but I'll cry for you." She searched his eyes. "Really, Joe!" He grinned feebly and went out to the car. The feeling on the way to the airfield was not a good one. It was twenty-odd miles from the Shed, but Joe dreaded what he was going to see. The black car burned up the road.
In the alert hangar, the two pilots standing the alert had been listening to a running account of the sighting so when the scramble bell rang they took off for their airplanes like a couple of sprinters. As the two big alert hangar doors swung up the whining screech of the jet starters, followed by thunder of the engines, filled the airfield.
I said that our philosophy was that the fireball could have been two meteors: one that buzzed the C-54 and another that streaked across the airfield at Goose AFB. Granted a meteor doesn't come within feet of an airplane or make a 90-degree turn, but these could have been optical illusions of some kind.