Ghosts of the Past Read Online Free Page A

to do Brew, just point me in the right direction and go,” came the reply.
    Miller hesitated as he looked down the valley and considered the consequences of leaving Hathaway on his own to go hunting.
     
    Hignite was already pulling up and away as he started to formulate a strategy to avoid the two American fighters. There are no clouds, the damn Mustang has twice the speed of this clunker, there are two of them and one of us, and we don’t have a single ounce of armament on board.
    “We’re in big trouble, Rudi. I had hoped we would not run into anybody this far south, much less this low. Any thoughts?”
    The Junker was elevating quickly as Hignite was making for the top of the first mountain ridge to the south.
    “You’re headed south, that’s a good start! We can’t outrun them and we definitely can’t engage them. Gernert hesitated and then quickly added, “I would suggest we head for the deck.”
    “I concur! We’re better off getting low enough to make their speed a liability in these valley walls. If I can turn in and out of these ruts, maybe we can cut down on their straight-line advantage. Hang on!” Hignite had reached the peak and immediately dove hard down the slope into the next valley.
     
    Miller didn’t have much time to ponder the situation. The Junker was starting evasive action, with what looked to be an attempt to jump to the next valley.
    “Charlie, I need ya to elevate a couple hundred feet and stay on your line. The valley is widenin’ out. I’m gonna go visit our friend. I’ll be back in a jiffy. Stay in contact and holler if you can’t see what your doin’.”
    “I’m okay! Good hunting Brew.”
    Miller’s P-51 was in a hard left turn climbing up and over the same southern ridge at full throttle. At roughly 380 miles per hour she was diving down the valley hard overtaking quickly the weighted down Junker who was also rattling under a maximum speed that was just over half of the American predator.
    The pilot was good thought Miller. He was as low as he could get and he was seesawing back and forth as best he could in that boat. It looked heavy. Miller gained ground from behind, he thumbed the trigger to his weapons, and the four wing-mounted .50 caliber Browning machine guns exploded shells toward the weaving Junker. The lumbering transport pulled hard left and snaked into a contiguous ravine as the last of the Mustang’s burst slammed harmlessly into a rocky outcropping. Miller could not make the same turn at his speed, so he pulled up and made an ascending left hand turn until he was over the same ravine. The Junker was running straight down the line of a large stream below, and Miller plunged into the narrow gorge at a thirty-degree angle from above.
    “Charlie, are you still with us?” Miller barked into his radio.
    “I’m still here. But I’m not real confident. I can’t make out my instruments anymore.”
    “Hang in there, I’m on my way.”
     
    Hignite was throwing the airborne hulk all over the place. He had just managed to make the left-hand turn into the narrow ravine, having to keep the wings tipped at an angle for several hundred yards to prevent the ninety-six feet of wingspan from burrowing into the rocky bluff that guarded the exit of the stream into the valley below. It was some nifty flying, and he knew it, but he expected the P-51 to be right on top of him again any second.
    “He’s coming down on us from behind, six o’clock high.” Gernert confirmed his fears.
    Hignite pulled back hard on the wheel and started to climb above the steep walls, searching frantically for the next narrow depression or hollow to dive into. The subsequent sound of tearing and pinging metal alerted him that his adversary had him in his sights and they were taking hits. He banked hard right as the speedier Mustang buzzed by his left ear.
     
    “I’ll be right with ya buddy.” Miller radioed to Hathaway as he figured one more good pass at the German would do it.
    There