Tom Swift and The Visitor from Planet X Part 18

CHAPTER XIV

AIR-BORNE HIJACKERS

Mr. Swift, hearing Tom's dismayed reaction, rushed to the telephone.

"What's wrong, son?"

Tom clamped his hand over the mouthpiece and quickly gave his father the news of the destroyed range-finder plant. Then he spoke into the telephone.

"Bernt, we must prevent another disaster! Let me check with our construction company on the Quakelizors and I'll call you right back!"

"Right, Tom," Ahlgren agreed.

Both Tom and Mr. Swift were shocked by this latest blow of their enemies. Tom called Ned Newton at the Swift Construction Company at once and told him the news.

"How soon will the Quakelizors be ready, Uncle Ned?"

"They're finished, Tom. We're running a final inspection on them right now. We can have them ready to s.h.i.+p out by one o'clock."

Tom relayed word to the Pentagon. Bernt Ahlgren was greatly relieved.

"By the way," Tom went on, "what about the sites? Have they been chosen yet?"

"Only tentatively," Ahlgren replied. "We wanted to get your opinion first."

One of the deflectors, Ahlgren felt, should be based in position to guard the New York and New England area, in view of Intelligence warnings about a probable attack on New York City. Another, in the c.u.mberland plateau region of Kentucky, could damp out shock waves threatening either the heavily industrialized Great Lakes area or any southern city.

As to the other three Quakelizors, Ahlgren suggested that one be installed on the West Coast, one in the Black Hills of South Dakota, and the third on the Atlantic island of San Rosario. This would protect both Latin-American allies and Caribbean defense bases of the United States.

Before deciding, Tom asked that Dr. Miles at the Bureau of Mines be circuited into the telephone conversation. Mr. Swift, too, joined in on another line. The four scientists discussed the problem and referred to geologic maps. Finally the exact sites were agreed upon.

"Dad, I'm going to deliver and install one of those Quakelizors myself,"

Tom declared, after the telephone conference ended. "Judging from that phone impostor last night, there's no telling what sort of trick our enemies may try next!"

Mr. Swift approved heartily. "Good idea, son. In the meantime, I'll see what I can accomplish with Ole Think Box here."

Tom notified Uncle Ned of the delivery sites. He requested that because of the urgency of the situation, Swift planes transport the Quakelizors.

Mr. Newton promised to have five cargo jets loaded and prepared for take-off from the construction company airfield.

Next, Tom turned to the job of rounding up flight crews. He decided that Hank Sterling, Arv Hanson, Art Wiltessa, and a crack Swift test pilot, Slim Davis, would each captain a plane.

Tom was just hanging up the telephone when Chow wheeled in a lunch cart, bearing sizzling servings of steak for the two Swifts.

"How's Ole Think Box comin' along?" Chow inquired.

"All right now, but he went berserk a while back," Tom replied with a chuckle.

Chow eyed the robot apprehensively and made a hasty exit. Both Tom Jr.

and Tom Sr. were amused.

As they ate, the two scientists continued their discussion on how to equip Exman with senses and the power of speech. Several minutes later, when they were finis.h.i.+ng dessert, Bud came into the laboratory.

"Tom, what's this about you hopping off somewhere to install a Quakelizor?" he asked anxiously.

"Don't worry, pal. I'll need my usual copilot," Tom said with a grin.

"Just didn't have time to call you before lunch. We'll be flying down to a place called San Rosario in the Caribbean."

At one o'clock Tom briefed the flight crews and technicians. Slim was provided with three men who had worked on the original model of the quake deflector. After making sure that every man knew his job, Tom had the groups flown by helicopter over to the Swift Construction Company airfield.

Tom and Bud's cargo jet was the second to take off. On signal from the tower, the big workhorse thundered down the runway and soared off into the blue. Soon it was spearing southward above the waters of the Atlantic.

Presently Bud drew Tom's attention to some blurry specks of light on the radarscope. "Looks like a formation of planes, skipper."

Tom studied the blips for a while. "Guess you're right. It's sure not a flock of sea gulls!" The young inventor frowned.

"Worried, Tom?" Bud asked quietly.

Tom shrugged. "It could be a routine military flight."

He increased speed and climbed for alt.i.tude. But the blips on the radarscope showed that the planes were coming steadily closer. It was clear that they were targeting on the Swift cargo jet.

Tom switched on the radio. Presently a voice crackled over their headphones:

"Calling Swift jet!" The voice was heavily accented.

"Brungarians!" Bud muttered.

Tom made no reply to the radio challenge. Again came the voice:

"Calling Swift jet! Make emergency landing on the water!"

Tom's only response was a fresh burst of speed. Gunning the jet motors, he sent the big cargo s.h.i.+p arrowing forward at supersonic velocity.

"There they are!" Bud cried suddenly. He pointed to a cl.u.s.ter of silvery glints in the sky at seven o'clock.

Tom zoomed downward into a billowing cloud bank. It was a feeble hope and Tom knew it. His only real chance now was to outrun or outmaneuver the marauders.

The slim hope faded as they emerged from the cloud cover moments later.

The enemy planes were not only still d.o.g.g.i.ng them, but closing in rapidly. Sleek, needle-nosed attack s.h.i.+ps, they appeared to have seaplane hulls.

"Wow! Those are new ones!" Bud gasped.

"Our last warning to Swift jet! Hit the water or be shot down!" came the enemy voice.

Tom raced along, his mind searching frantically for a method of escape.

Bud switched off radio power momentarily. "If we're going to be hijacked, skipper, let's ditch your invention before it's too late!"

Tom shook his head stubbornly. "Why should I let those pirates bulldoze us? Actually, I think they're after Exman!"