"Who are you and what do you want?" Tom said into his microphone.
The voice replied crisply, "You'll find out when the time comes!"
Tom flicked2 off his mike and exchanged another worried glance with Bud. "We seem to be in a spot, pal3!"
"And how! Especially if that crate's armed!" Bud muttered. "But what are they after?"
"Might even be us they want," Bud said. "Got any tricks under your magician's hat?"
Tom's brain was already racing5 to figure a way out. Suddenly he snapped his fingers. "Hey! I almost forgot!" he exclaimed. "Look in the locker6, Bud, and see if we have the radio set that neutralizes7 all interference!"
Bud's face brightened. "Now you're talking!"
The set had been perfected during Tom's Cosmic Astronauts adventure, in defense8 against an Oriental enemy's jamming-wave generator9. Bud found it in the locker, dragged it out joyfully10, and plugged it into the power supply.
Meanwhile, the mystery jet had banked in a wide circle and headed west. As Tom stalled for time, it swooped11 back again and the same voice came snarling12 over the speaker.
"I warned you to follow us! Or would you prefer to be shot down?"
As if to back up the threat, a burst of tracer fire grazed Tom's plane.
He hastily switched on his mike. "Okay, hold your fire! I guess we have no choice!"
The jet turned back on its westerly course, and Tom followed obediently. Meanwhile, Bud had warmed up the other radio and contacted Enterprises. Tom switched mikes long enough to report their position, course, and speed, adding:
"Tell Security to alert Vignall Air Force Base pronto!"
"Roger Wilco!" the Enterprises operator responded. Even if the enemy ship detected the call, Tom knew the automatic scrambling13 device would prevent the message from being understood.
Minute after minute, the flight continued. "Where are they taking us?" Bud muttered.
"Some out-of-the-way landing spot probably," Tom conjectured14. "I wonder how soon those fighter boys will—"
Three gleaming specks16 had just burst through a cloud bank to the north. Closing in rapidly, they were soon visible as Air Force fighter jets, flying in V formation.
"Fighter One to unmarked jet!" came the sharp command over the radio. "Can you read me?... You'd better read me, pal! I order you to proceed to Vignall Air Base under our escort or take the consequences!"
The mystery pilot, evidently bewildered by the sudden onslaught, made a frantic17 effort to escape. But the fighters, with almost contemptuous ease, quickly surrounded the plane and forced him to comply with orders.
Minutes later, all the planes, including Tom's, landed at the airfield19. Four sullen-faced men, their hands up, emerged from the mystery jet. Military police with drawn20 automatics herded21 them to the commandant's office. Tom and Bud followed.
"Attempted aerial piracy22, eh?" the commandant said when he heard the boys' story. Turning to the prisoners, he snapped, "Who are you, and what's the meaning of all this?"
The crew captain, a hard-looking, stockily built man of about forty-five, rasped back, "We have nothing to say."
The commandant wasted no words. "Search them," he told the MP's.
Their wallets and various other items revealed little. The crew captain was carrying a private pilot's license23 on which he was identified as "Jack24 Smith." The names of the others, as shown on identification papers of one kind or another, sounded equally false.
"Probably all forged," the commandant muttered, "but we'll check them out."
He tried again to glean25 something from the prisoners, but they replied with sneering26 evasions27. The commandant reddened with anger at their stubbornness. "All right. Take them to the guardhouse," he ordered.
As the MP's marched the hijackers off, Tom asked how their case would be handled.
"The crime is a federal offense," the commandant explained. "Air Force Intelligence will co-operate on the case, but the prisoners will be turned over to a federal marshal."
Tom briefed him on the background of the situation, including the Jupiter-probing missile mystery, then asked, "Could those men be transferred to the Shopton jail for the time being so our own security setup can take a hand in the investigation28?"
The commandant nodded. "I'll arrange it."
As the boys flew back to Enterprises, Bud threw Tom a quizzical glance. "How come you mentioned the Jupiter prober, skipper? Do you think those hijackers were after information?"
Tom shrugged. "I'm wondering myself, Bud. If they were, it could mean our enemy hasn't found it yet!"
When they arrived at the experimental station, Tom made a full report to Harlan Ames, the slim, dark-haired security chief. Ames listened thoughtfully but was as baffled as Tom.
"Are the men Americans?" he asked.
"I doubt it," Tom said. "They speak English well enough, but with a faint accent. Somehow, I have a hunch29 they're Brungarians."
Ames whistled. "That could spell trouble, skipper." More than once, Brungarian rebel agents had engaged in brazen30 plots against America and the Swifts.
"Art Wiltessa—and the Navy—called again," Ames added. "Still no luck on the missile search."
The gloomy news did nothing to lift Tom's spirits. The next day, hoping to verify or disprove his suspicion, he drove to Shopton Police Headquarters with Harlan Ames. The two talked briefly32 with Chief Slater, an old friend. Then a turnkey took them to the cell block.
The four prisoners had been confined in a single large cell. They seemed tense and angry—as if they had been quarreling among themselves.
"Ready to talk yet?" Ames asked. Getting no reply, he repeated the question in Brungarian.
As his cellmates grinned, Tom's eyes roved over their faces. One man—wavy-haired with penetrating34 dark eyes—seemed oddly familiar. Why? Suddenly the answer hit Tom like a flash. He resembled Streffan Mirov, the brilliant Brungarian rocket scientist who had tried to oust35 Tom's expedition from the phantom36 satellite Nestria.
Playing a hunch, Tom said to him, "You know what your government does to rebels and bunglers, Mirov."
"Shut up, you fool!" their leader shouted.
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1
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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2
flicked
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| （尤指用手指或手快速地）轻击( flick的过去式和过去分词 )； （用…）轻挥； （快速地）按开关； 向…笑了一下（或瞥了一眼等） | |
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pal
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| n.朋友，伙伴，同志；vi.结为友 | |
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4
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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racing
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| n.竞赛，赛马；adj.竞赛用的，赛马用的 | |
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6
locker
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| n.更衣箱，储物柜，冷藏室，上锁的人 | |
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7
neutralizes
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| v.使失效( neutralize的第三人称单数 )；抵消；中和；使（一个国家）中立化 | |
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8
defense
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| n.防御，保卫；[pl.]防务工事；辩护，答辩 | |
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9
generator
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| n.发电机，发生器 | |
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10
joyfully
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| adv. 喜悦地, 高兴地 | |
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swooped
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| 俯冲，猛冲( swoop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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12
snarling
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| v.（指狗）吠，嗥叫， （人）咆哮( snarl的现在分词 )；咆哮着说，厉声地说 | |
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13
scrambling
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的现在分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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14
conjectured
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| 推测，猜测，猜想( conjecture的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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15
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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specks
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| n.眼镜；斑点，微粒，污点( speck的名词复数 ) | |
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frantic
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| adj.狂乱的，错乱的，激昂的 | |
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18
whooped
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| 叫喊( whoop的过去式和过去分词 )； 高声说； 唤起 | |
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airfield
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| n.飞机场 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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herded
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| 群集，纠结( herd的过去式和过去分词 )； 放牧； （使）向…移动 | |
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22
piracy
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| n.海盗行为，剽窃，著作权侵害 | |
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license
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| n.执照，许可证，特许；v.许可，特许 | |
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24
jack
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| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
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25
glean
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| v.收集(消息、资料、情报等) | |
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26
sneering
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| 嘲笑的，轻蔑的 | |
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27
evasions
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| 逃避( evasion的名词复数 )； 回避； 遁辞； 借口 | |
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28
investigation
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| n.调查，调查研究 | |
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29
hunch
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| n.预感，直觉 | |
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30
brazen
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| adj.厚脸皮的，无耻的，坚硬的 | |
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31
wryly
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| adv. 挖苦地，嘲弄地 | |
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32
briefly
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| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
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33
ruse
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| n.诡计，计策；诡计 | |
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34
penetrating
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| adj.（声音）响亮的，尖锐的adj.（气味）刺激的adj.（思想）敏锐的，有洞察力的 | |
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35
oust
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| vt.剥夺，取代，驱逐 | |
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36
phantom
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| n.幻影，虚位，幽灵；adj.错觉的，幻影的，幽灵的 | |
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37
stiffened
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| 加强的 | |
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