Free The Time Pirate by Ted Bell Page B

come?”
    Hawke’s attention was diverted by the great roar of the Camel’s engine as Angus McIver began his takeoff roll.
    â€œWatch his takeoff carefully, Nick,” Hawke said, “We lost many boys who flew these things early on in France. The Camels were beastly brutes to fly until you had a few hours in them. All that weight forward, you see. Engine, pilot, fuel, ammunition. Unlike the Sopwith Pup, which came before, these you had to fly every second, hand steady on the joystick, or they’d dip their fat noses and go into a spin. But Camels were pugnacious little fighters, by God. The German Luftwaffe learned that hard lesson the hard way.”
    Nick had his eyes on his father as he roared off down the airstrip. There was a strong crosswind, and he was having a bit of trouble keeping her straight. And then, just when Nick thought his father about to run out of runway, the Sopwith Camel lifted her proud nose and climbed magnificently up into the blue English sky. Nick held his hand to his foreheadto shield his eyes from the sun. He didn’t want to miss a single thing.
    The Camel kept her heading, straight for Castle Hawke’s great tower, flying about a hundred feet off the ground. When it looked as if Angus was just going to crash straight into the high castle tower, he banked sharply right, then left, making a perfect loop around the massive structure before going into a slight climb.
    â€œHasn’t forgotten much, has he, lad?” Hawke said, a broad smile on his face. “Look, he’s headed back this way!”
    Indeed, the Camel was headed straight toward them, very low but swiftly gaining altitude. As Nick watched in awe, his father kept climbing, climbing, right through the vertical until the Camel was completely upside down and then arching over, diving straight down toward the ground at a tremendous speed.
    â€œAn outside loop!” Commander Hobbes exclaimed. “This chap knows his business!”
    Just when Nick thought the Camel would plunge straight into the ground, his father brought her nose up, leveled off, and roared just over their heads, waggling his wings.
    â€œNow you can see why he was an ace,” Hawke said. “How many Huns did he shoot down, Nick? Any idea at all?”
    â€œHe ended the war with twenty-three victories, sir, awarded both the Distinguished Flying Cross and Distinguished Service Cross, with bar. He’d have had even more had he not been badly wounded.”
    Hawke looked down at his young friend. The boy’s eyes shone with pride for his great hero.
    They both turned to watch as the Camel roared to the end of the airstrip and went into a severely steep climb, bankedhard right, and raced over the treetops back toward Hawke Castle and the blue waves of the channel. Nick’s heart was in his throat, thinking of all the years it had been since his father had done these aerial stunts. Was he pushing himself too far? So full of joy, that he was oblivious to danger? He suddenly wanted his dad back safely on the ground.
    But the acrobatics weren’t over. The Camel raced south toward the tower, did another perfect loop around it, and then came speeding toward them once more, only a hundred feet in the air.
    â€œIs he going to land?” Nick asked.
    â€œI don’t think so,” Hawke said. “He’s not slowing.”
    â€œBut what—”
    When the Sopwith was less than a few hundred yards from the group watching from the ground, Angus McIver suddenly inverted the plane.
    He was flying completely upside down now, and yet he roared just over their heads as if it were the most natural thing in the world. A few hundred yards later, he inverted again, now right side up, did a sweeping left-hand turn over the forest, and lined up for his final approach to the airstrip.
    â€œHe’s bloody amazing, that’s what he is!” Gunner cried, squeezing Nick’s shoulder. “Fifteen years in the Royal