Operation Wolfe Cub: A Chilling Historical Thriller (THE TIME TO TELL Book 1) by H.C. Wells Page B
Authors: H.C. Wells
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gazed at its burning ember, then blew on it, making it brighter than ever. “Did I catch that or am I just hearing things?”
US-1 looked like an angel hiding behind a thorn bush. “Catch what? I didn’t say anything.”
US-2 immediately attempted to turn their special mission vessel into a kind of fun-filled, radical hydro-jet boat before her time. As he turned and sparked up one of the engines, he grinned. “Oh, I’ve got the guts… the question is, do I have enough petrol to prove it?” He started up his second engine then rumbled the accelerator a little too much.
By then, US-1 started to look as if perhaps what they were racing into might be a little too fast. With every thrust of US-2’s touchy gas pedal, the mighty vessel’s side tipped down into the water, showing off her torque.
Just a tiny bead of sweat glistened seeking to escape US-1’s forehead when he glanced over his instrumentation. Tepidly, he looked straight down the long sleek nose of the fastest known jet boat-to-be and thought twice. “You sure you want to do this?”
“
Aw
—how nice of you. I thought you’d never ask.”
“I mean, I don’t know if this is such a—”
“How’s it looking out there, US-1? Over the bow—see any whales in my way?”
“Wha-what? Whales?”
“Haven’t got all day. Get serious, how we looking—or are you really second in command?”
US-1 took a deep breath. “Okay, if you say so…this is Midshipman. Signaled course set. We’re in the Mediterranean on a bright, beautiful, wonderful day. Test time conditions are optimal.”
“
Huh
? Damn it to hell! Are you ready?”
US-1 nodded. “You heard me…we’re good to go—dead ahead. A few kilometers anyway.”
“That’s what I want to hear. Blasting for the Strait of Gibraltar is what I know—all the way.”
“That’s right, Gibraltar here we come. Let ’er rip!”
“Then the Atlantic.”
With one big stomp, US-2 dropped his foot on the gas, unleashing the misery.
Booowaaaaaahhhhh!
Massive amounts of motor hunkered down somewhere in the back. The power of gasoline horses collided with forces. From carburation to combustion, the power punched its way down to those poor, little fellers called propellers.
Waaaaaaaaaaahhhhh!
“The US
Wehrwolf
had every intention of leaping out of her skin, but not without testing her engineers, who wished to keep her together first. From a standstill she blew, instantly slapping her two rear wings into the water. Her stern barely stayed above the water when pure power came to meet the smooth, flat ocean. Something had to give and it wasn’t the ship. Two huge jet streams blasted high into the sky from behind. She took off all right, looking like someone broke off a pair of fire hydrants.
In the surprising launch, neither one of the officers could move a muscle, but the neighboring wildlife sure did. Seagulls fled for their lives, and the fish did too. While the forward force kept them stuck to the seats of their pants, they had nowhere else to go.
“
Aaaawwhhhh
! Holy
shhhheeaawh
!”
“
Yeeeeaaaaaaw
! Son of
beee-aaawh
!”
Nothing could escape except for their ear-shattering yells.
Down below deck, Dr. Wycliffe’s deep sleep must have felt like it was getting mugged by a worst nightmare of bombs blasting and houses getting blown away. Gravity didn’t go where it should have, yanking him off his bed and slamming him into the back of the bulkhead.
Boooooof! “
Awwwh!
”
Then came inertia. His boots, spectacles, clipboard and whatever else he hadn’t put away, came flying right at him.
Whack! Crash! Kabang! “
Awwwhh!
”
In the midst of roaring engines, gravity that didn’t seem right, and flying objects colliding with his face, he only knew what to think or say. He barely had time to ask, “What the God’s Christ name is happening?!”
Back up on deck, US-1 tried to pull away from his seat, but the force must have given him an unfair shake from the planet Jupiter. Finally, he
US-1 looked like an angel hiding behind a thorn bush. “Catch what? I didn’t say anything.”
US-2 immediately attempted to turn their special mission vessel into a kind of fun-filled, radical hydro-jet boat before her time. As he turned and sparked up one of the engines, he grinned. “Oh, I’ve got the guts… the question is, do I have enough petrol to prove it?” He started up his second engine then rumbled the accelerator a little too much.
By then, US-1 started to look as if perhaps what they were racing into might be a little too fast. With every thrust of US-2’s touchy gas pedal, the mighty vessel’s side tipped down into the water, showing off her torque.
Just a tiny bead of sweat glistened seeking to escape US-1’s forehead when he glanced over his instrumentation. Tepidly, he looked straight down the long sleek nose of the fastest known jet boat-to-be and thought twice. “You sure you want to do this?”
“
Aw
—how nice of you. I thought you’d never ask.”
“I mean, I don’t know if this is such a—”
“How’s it looking out there, US-1? Over the bow—see any whales in my way?”
“Wha-what? Whales?”
“Haven’t got all day. Get serious, how we looking—or are you really second in command?”
US-1 took a deep breath. “Okay, if you say so…this is Midshipman. Signaled course set. We’re in the Mediterranean on a bright, beautiful, wonderful day. Test time conditions are optimal.”
“
Huh
? Damn it to hell! Are you ready?”
US-1 nodded. “You heard me…we’re good to go—dead ahead. A few kilometers anyway.”
“That’s what I want to hear. Blasting for the Strait of Gibraltar is what I know—all the way.”
“That’s right, Gibraltar here we come. Let ’er rip!”
“Then the Atlantic.”
With one big stomp, US-2 dropped his foot on the gas, unleashing the misery.
Booowaaaaaahhhhh!
Massive amounts of motor hunkered down somewhere in the back. The power of gasoline horses collided with forces. From carburation to combustion, the power punched its way down to those poor, little fellers called propellers.
Waaaaaaaaaaahhhhh!
“The US
Wehrwolf
had every intention of leaping out of her skin, but not without testing her engineers, who wished to keep her together first. From a standstill she blew, instantly slapping her two rear wings into the water. Her stern barely stayed above the water when pure power came to meet the smooth, flat ocean. Something had to give and it wasn’t the ship. Two huge jet streams blasted high into the sky from behind. She took off all right, looking like someone broke off a pair of fire hydrants.
In the surprising launch, neither one of the officers could move a muscle, but the neighboring wildlife sure did. Seagulls fled for their lives, and the fish did too. While the forward force kept them stuck to the seats of their pants, they had nowhere else to go.
“
Aaaawwhhhh
! Holy
shhhheeaawh
!”
“
Yeeeeaaaaaaw
! Son of
beee-aaawh
!”
Nothing could escape except for their ear-shattering yells.
Down below deck, Dr. Wycliffe’s deep sleep must have felt like it was getting mugged by a worst nightmare of bombs blasting and houses getting blown away. Gravity didn’t go where it should have, yanking him off his bed and slamming him into the back of the bulkhead.
Boooooof! “
Awwwh!
”
Then came inertia. His boots, spectacles, clipboard and whatever else he hadn’t put away, came flying right at him.
Whack! Crash! Kabang! “
Awwwhh!
”
In the midst of roaring engines, gravity that didn’t seem right, and flying objects colliding with his face, he only knew what to think or say. He barely had time to ask, “What the God’s Christ name is happening?!”
Back up on deck, US-1 tried to pull away from his seat, but the force must have given him an unfair shake from the planet Jupiter. Finally, he
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