Free Touch the Sky (Young Underground #8) by Robert Elmer

’ t want a hook through my wing. ”
                  Peter looked out the back window, up at the cable and hook that was being lowered for them.
                  “ These boys, they know what they ’ re doing, Karlsson, ” the captain replied. “ Don ’ t worry, eh? ”
                  Matthias kept the engine of the airplane idling, so they were just barely moving forward, like the ship that was now beside them. Men shouted from above, and Matthias turned to Peter.
                  “ Two things. Remember what I told you about what will happen up on the ship. Don ’ t say anything and just follow me. And the second thing, I want you to slip over here into my seat once I get up top. Don ’ t steer it — just keep us from zigzagging. And when I give you the signal, I want you to turn the engine off, like this. ”
                  Peter nodded nervously as Matthias showed him the ignition key, just like in a car. Then the man slipped out his door and disappeared up on top of the plane.
                  Left by himself, Peter gripped the steering stick, trying his best to keep it steady. It was as if they were in a pond, the water was so still around them. After a few more shouts, Peter felt something gently bumping the roof of the plane. Matthias tapped on the window with his heel.
                  “ Kill the engine! ” he shouted, and Peter obeyed.
                  From then on, Peter could hear everything. Matthias shouting instructions, the grunting of the men above, the complaining squeaks of the airplane as they were lifted into the air like a carnival ride. With Matthias still on top, they slowly twirled higher and higher. There was only a slight jolt as they were gently set down, dripping, in the middle of the ship ’ s rusty deck. Matthias followed with a flying leap, landing on his feet with a grin.
                  “ What did I tell you? ” boomed Captain Papanikolas from somewhere above. “ No problem? ”
                  “ You ’ re a regular aircraft carrier, ” returned Matthias, looking up at the captain and giving him a salute. “ Good job, Captain. We might have to do this again. ”
                  “ Just so the seas stay as calm as today, ” said the portly Greek man, coming down a narrow stairway from his steering house in the middle of the ship. The red - faced captain was chewing something from behind a week - old beard and tried to straighten his crooked black tie with his free hand. He stopped halfway down the stair - ladder when he noticed Peter climbing out of the plane.
                  “ Who ’ s this? ” he asked suspiciously. “ I thought we don ’ t take cargo before Bremen. ”
                  “ Nothing to worry about, Captain P, ” boomed Matthias. He stepped between the captain and Peter like a shield. “ Just a friend of the family from Helsingør . He came with me for the ride. ”
                  Captain Papanikolas wasn ’ t convinced. He stood his ground, crossed his arms, and looked around Matthias. Peter noticed that the man ’ s rumpled blue jacket looked as if it had been used as a rag in the ship ’ s engine room.
                  “ Hi, ” squeaked Peter in Danish, nodding his head. The captain only frowned.
                  “ I ’ m here for two reasons, ” Matthias said. “ First, I wanted to check if the crane for hoisting my plane aboard was in order. ”
                  “ Everything in order, see? ” huffed the captain, gesturing at the red airplane. A couple of the other sailors had wandered up on deck to take a look, and they were inspecting the plane. Peter didn ’ t see the man with the crooked nose, but at least the ship didn ’ t seem as scary in the light of day.
                  “ And the other thing, ” continued