The Dive Bomber by L. Ron Hubbard Page A

and she’s not going to be left behind when they leave. As you’ll carry a load of bombs in your tests, you’ll be splattered all over the landscape when you crash and there’s no evidence. I get shanghaied to replace these small engines with big power plants and bomb racks. Nobody is left to breathe a word about what’s happened.”
    Lucky went on working as though he had heard nothing. But he felt sick. Everyone had turned against him except Flynn and Dixie. He and the dive bomber were the laughingstock of the government. His death would occasion no surprise, as the news had been carefully prepared far in advance. The dive bomber, branded as worthless, might someday be used to destroy battleships flying the American flag.
    He knew why he had to die. If he ever lived to finance the construction of yet another dive bomber, he could test it and prove once and for all that it would do all he said it would. And if that happened, Bullard would be sought for the way he had managed this mammoth hoax.
    Lucky watched Smith and wondered how it would feel to have your head blown off with a .50-caliber machine gun. Lucky watched Bullard and remembered that incendiary ammunition did well in blowing up balloons.
    And ship by ship, the private sport planes were taken away to be loaded openly upon a freighter. Day by day the time of the final test approached.

CHAPTER EIGHT
    She Stays Together—
So What?
    B ULLARD had done his work so well that when the day came to ask the Department of Commerce for an Experimental X license, the inspector balked. And Lawson, at his side, chorused his doubt.
    â€œI can’t let Martin kill himself,” explained the inspector.
    â€œIt’s suicide,” Commander Lawson said to Bullard. “I’ve seen the plane crash twice and I came down here the moment I heard about it to forbid the issuance of a license if I could.”
    â€œNow, gentlemen,” said the suave Bullard, glancing at Lucky, “you know how the boy has been yapping. He thinks his ship will stand the dive this time and, as part of his pay, I let him equip one for military purposes. Now we all know it will crash, but we can’t refuse Lucky Martin his chance, can we?”
    â€œI won’t attend any test,” vowed Lawson. “I won’t watch him pull another one apart. It’s too hard on the nerves. We have already declared that it is only good for sporting purposes and we can’t change our minds now.”
    â€œPlease, gentlemen,” said Bullard. “You can’t do this to Martin.”
    â€œCommander,” said Lucky, “if this one stays in one piece, won’t that indicate that these export ships could all be converted into dive bombers at their destination?”
    It was a bold stroke, and though Bullard, could have struck Lucky dead where he stood from rage, Bullard had to smile.
    â€œTwo crashes were enough,” said Lawson. “You’re a stubborn fool, Martin.”
    â€œI have no real grounds on which to base a refusal to issue this Experimental,” said the inspector doubtfully.
    â€œOf course you haven’t,” said Bullard. “We must give the boy his chance.”
    â€œI refuse to attend such nonsense,” said Lawson. With a scowl he marched out of the plant, got into his car and drove away.
    With Lawson out of the road, Bullard made fast work of the inspector, and the X was granted on Bullard’s affidavit that the plane had been improved.
    And then, because he did not think the plane would be ready to test that day, the inspector also departed, taking Lucky’s last hope with him.
    Neither Dixie nor Flynn were in sight. But Smith was there, battening a .50-caliber machine gun to his ring mount .
    The test was evidently not to be conducted over the O’Neal plant and the plane was flown by Smith to a field some distance away.
    Bullard took Lucky with him in his car, guards close at hand, and after a