I shouted, “Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot!”

A few of the men skipped to a stop, as if the film reel wasn’t spooling properly.

“Is that Volunteer McEwen? Who’s with you?”

None of them knew who I was.

“The lassie works for Mrs. Campbell at the pub,” Ellen cried. “God pity us, never mind just now—don’t fright the Jerry! Keep your guns down unless he tries to take us along!”

If they threatened him, he might panic and use his pistol again. I didn’t believe he’d hurt me or Ellen, but we weren’t armed men. Maybe he wouldn’t aim to miss this time.

Ellen:

He herded us like a pair of ewe lambs, pointing our way with his gun. He stood us on the other side of his Messerschmitt, where no one could keek any part of us but our feet beneath the carcass of the plane. Our heads were right next to where the machine guns stuck out of the wing.

“What’s he doing?” Louisa whispered. She only came up to my shoulder, and we both craned to spy on him.

“Sorting his gear,” I guessed. The nose of the plane pointed over my head and I couldn’t see anything, either.

She hooked her elbow through mine again.

“If we both fight him…” that brave lass whispered. But she didn’t finish her idea. He was out of our sight just now, but he still had that gun.

We heard the Jerry slam the doors of the Tilly. Then he got up on the wing we couldn’t see, and pulled back the cockpit canopy. He took out a parachute and life jacket and chucked them on the ground.

“What’s he doing now?” Louisa asked.

“Making room for his precious box,” I said.

Louisa:

I glimpsed the top of one narrow seat in the cockpit, with nothing behind it, and only the controls in front. He must have had to fly with the wooden case in his lap. Even his long coat must have been awkward in that cramped space. He couldn’t possibly have room to take a hostage, could he?

If he did, I would be a better fit than tall, long-legged Ellen.

Could he? Cram me in between his shoulder and the metal hull, and take off into the rising sun on those knife-blade wings?

For one thousandth of a second, just before it plummeted in fear, my heart flew.

Ellen:

He stood on the wing opposite. His left arm was straight out with the gun once again aimed at my head.

I spat to tell him how much I hated him.

He heaved a sigh. He kept his arm out with that ugly pistol cocked, and turned to shout toward the lads lined up on the edge of the airfield, pointing at him with their rifles.

“Starter!”

Louisa, braver than me, ducked to keek underneath the Messerschmitt and see what was going on.