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one of us is in trouble."
"Oh, it's important. Trust me."
Franky glanced over at Polly, raising her eyebrows. "Who's the girl? Excess baggage?"
Remembering his manners, Sky Captain made awkward introductions. "Uh, Captain Francesca
Cook, meet Polly Perkins, reporter for the New York Chronicle."
The two women squared off coolly with Sky Captain standing between them. "Oh, yes, Polly
Perkins... I've heard so much about you." Franky formally extended her hand, and the two shook, but
without warmth. "It's a pleasure to finally meet my competition."
Stunned by the female captain's beauty and cultured manner, Polly felt inadequate and self-conscious.
Franky had heard so much about her? What had Joe been saying? Polly doubted it was
overcomplimentary.
Done with the pleasantries, Franky turned all her attention back to Sky Captain. Her voice was full of
innuendo. "It's been a long time since Nanjing, Joseph."
Nanjing? Polly flashed Sky Captain an accusing glare. He became flustered, but tried to hide it. "Yes,
a long time." After an awkward silence, he yanked off his flying gloves and briskly rubbed his hands
together. "So, well... how's that number three engine, Franky? Dex always thought it was wobbly, and I
remember it running a little rough -"
Suddenly a warning Klaxon assaulted their ears. Flashing lights strobed up and down the flying
fortress' runways. A voice boomed over loudspeakers mounted on the rotor towers. "General quarters!
Man your battle stations. All hands on deck!"
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The emergency distracted both Polly and Franky. "Thank God," Sky Captain said under his breath.
A uniformed officer bounded across the runway, waving a piece of paper at Franky. "Commander!
We're tracking six enemy submersibles, bearing thirty degrees northwest."
"Most unusual. Do you recognize the configuration?"
"No, Commander. Not a design we've encountered before. The submersibles are very large, and they
seem to be heavily armed." The young officer hesitated. "There are indications that they may have spotted
us already."
Franky raised her eyebrows at Sky Captain again. "Who wants to kill you this time, Joseph?"
He flushed. "Oh, you know, it's always something."
A large explosion erupted in the clouds around them, so close that it rocked Manta Station. The
rotors hummed more loudly, stabilizing the airborne runway. Royal Navy crewmen ran to their posts,
yelling orders.
The sky filled with flak fire. Echoes of successive detonations cracked like a thunderstorm through the
cloud cover. It seemed like the grand finale of a fireworks display, and the flying fortress was right in the
muddle of It.
24
An Island out of Nowhere
Undersea Machines
A Grim Incentive
One of the blasts came close enough to tilt the station's vast deck, throwing Polly off balance, but Sky
Captain instinctively caught her. The giant propellers strained to lift the heavy platform higher into the
safety of the clouds. Franky shouted orders, but her well-trained crew already knew what to do.
Through hatches in the flying fortress' deck, Royal Navy gunners climbed down ladders into
upside-down turrets hanging from structures beneath the platform. Large-caliber cannons extended as the
men strapped into their seats. They let loose a roaring barrage to bombard the unseen enemies far below.
Sky Captain looked forlornly at his Warhawk, which sat motionless at the end of long black skid
marks. "Franky, how fast can your people refuel my plane and load up?"
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"Not fast enough, Joseph. Follow me. Right this way."
Hurrying, but showing no panic, Franky led them into the bridge structure. Sky Captain grabbed the
edge of the door as another blast rocked the platform, and Polly went sprawling. Franky simply rode it
out without losing her balance. "It'll take a while for you both to acquire your sea legs. Needs a bit of
practice."
During the emergency, the bridge was a circus of organized chaos. Naval officers stood at their
stations, shouting rapid-fire instructions and responses. Fighter pilots checked in as they sprinted across
the various runways to scramble aboard their planes. Outside, louder than the constant thunder of
explosions, dozens of aircraft engines fired up, propellers whirring, exhausts roaring. From the gun turrets
below, defensive fire continued from the hull-mounted artillery.
Sky Captain marched close to Franky as if he belonged at her side, and Polly did not let him get too
far ahead. Franky stepped up to her executive officer inside the command station. "I'll take over from
here, Major Slater."
"Yes, Commander." He seemed relieved to relinquish control.
Sweeping her glance across the stations, Franky assessed their situation. "First order of business: raise
us to ten thousand feet and deploy all countermeasures." The executive officer swiftly repeated her orders
to the appropriate personnel.
Franky stood with perfect posture. In a piece of polished metal on one of the bridge stations, Polly
spotted her own disheveled reflection and grimaced. "I don't appear to be much competition at all."
Franky went to a tactical table and spread out a map of the vicinity below. She motioned for Sky
Captain to join her, and the two of them huddled over the charts. Their heads were very close together.
Polly strained on her tiptoes, trying to peek over their shoulders.
Franky used a slender finger to point out an area where someone had drawn handwritten notes and a
question mark on a blank expanse of ocean. "Right about here, Joseph. Our reconnaissance located a
small island three kilometers northeast of our current position. It's not on any of our charts."
Polly couldn't contain her excitement. "That has to be him!"
Franky looked up, quizzical; she seemed to have forgotten the other woman was behind them.
"Sorry? Has to be who?" She directed her question to Sky Captain, pointedly ignoring Polly. "What did
you get me into this time, Joseph?"
His smile looked a bit too admiring. "Oh, it's nothing you can't handle, Franky."
Their calm camaraderie and respect made Polly wonder again just how deep this friendship went. Her
brow furrowed.
Though the flying fortress was gaining altitude, lifted aloft by the churning propellers, one of the enemy
missiles slammed into the bottom of the hull. Sparks flew from two control stations, and the level floor
tilted at a severe angle.
Seasick, Polly grabbed an instrument panel and held on for her life, but as she clutched the controls,
she accidentally yanked a lever. One of the rotors roared with increased power output, and Manta
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Station tilted in the opposite direction. She felt as if she were trapped on a giant seesaw in the sky.
Sky Captain lurched over and pointedly lifted her hand off the lever. "Try not to touch anything. In
case you haven't noticed, we're in the middle of an emergency here."
Franky worked at a different station to stabilize the flying fortress. The commander flashed a glare
with her one eye.
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