“Let’s keep this really tight and give them a show.” Mirl transmitted to the other two wings. They tried to put a little variation into each day’s fly past, for themselves and their spectators on the ground.
A few more runs and the flight would be at air show standards. They flew parallel to the waterfront in a staggered line, as slowly as they could manage so the demonstration of power lasted longer.
“What is that?” Mirl’s co-pilot mused. “I see movement.”
Mirl couldn’t make it out at first. Upriver, but approaching fast, two shapes were flying low over the water. He looked away, flicking the switch for the viewer, and one of them had gone when he looked back. The remaining plane was close enough to identify now. “That’s a Mima. I haven’t seen one since…..”
He had been too complacent. The last thing Mirl had expected was to be attacked on this routine bombing run. He knew it was too late when he shouted into the caller, “Break! Break! We are under attack!”