Emma hunched over the Albatross’ radio console, pressing the headphones against her ear. “Whiskey One copies, skipper, but that’s really your plan? Over.”
Lecocq glanced over his shoulder. “How crazy can it be, after that Soviet zeppelin?”
Emma turned a dial on the radio so that it pointed to ‘Intercom’, said, “Crazier,” and turned the dial back. “If you say so. We’ll say on this frequency when we’re starting a circuit.” She waited for Cannon’s reply, then said, “Roger. Over and out.” She checked the sheet of paper stuck to the console with a magnet, then tuned the radio to a different frequency. “Whiskey Three One, this is One. Do you have the military airfield in sight?”
“Three One here,” the radio crackled. “I do, over.”
“Great,” Emma said. “Go strafe it. The skipper needs a distraction.”
The two Faucons in formation rolled away, showing the high-explosive rockets mounted beneath their wings. Lecocq waved at them as they soared past.
Emma said, “Roger, Inconstant. Over and out.” She switched to the intercom again and said, “Do you see the breakwater southwest of that peninsula?”