“I hope you know how to use that compass?” He teased, leaning over to speak into her ear. Their ears were covered against the cold and cutting wind. The padding just adding to the difficulties of communication. Happily Zam gave him thumbs up. Falstaff pulled out his hot water bottle then indicated the back of the nacelle. Zam nodded and crawled through the narrow gap between the fuel tanks into the back cabin to fill and changed the water bottles. Helping keep the cold out, with heat from within. The nacelle was still draughty, but the radiator pipes gave off plenty of heat. Outside in the cockpit, Falstaff struggled with the build-up of snow on his goggles. “Can’t a see damned thing! Have they stopped firing at us yet? Darn snow balls worse than the ack-ack guns over Madrid!” Zam had originally wondered at the necessity of the extensive preparations. She had to concede Falstaff had been right; she’d learnt a lesson, having grossly under estimated the time required to fly to Bhutan.
What do You think about The Call Of The Thunder Dragon?
