The Hunters Page #2

We can get out, | or we can wangle any sort of duty we like.

I'm supposed to be overage for combat, | but I managed to get here.

- You wanted combat? | - Sure.

Why? Do you like the war?

It's the only war I've got.

I see.

I doubt that you do see.

Why? I've seen men go to Korea | from World War ll.

Trying to recapture a feeling of importance | the other war gave them. Isn't that it?

I know the kind of men you're talking about. | No, it isn't like that with me.

The war permits me to do the one thing | I do better than anything else - fight planes.

- Now, what about you? | - What do you mean?

Well, I bring a drunk home | for a mysterious girl - a very pretty girl.

I willingly discuss my private business | for her curiosity,

and all I get in return is a cup of coffee.

But I thought you knew.

I mean, when you came into the cafe, | I thought you knew.

I'm sorry, Major. I'm Lieutenant Abbott's wife.

But he said he was going to meet...

No, I didn't know.

I guess I've been pretty stupid. | I only hope I haven't also been rude.

No, you haven't.

Well, in any case, thanks for the coffee.

- Will he stay sober tomorrow? | - Will who stay sober?

Who are you?

Right now, a man with egg on his face.

It's Major Saville, Carl.

Oh... oh, yeah. Yeah, Major, uh...

Oh, sure.

Well, what happened?

I haven't been in any trouble, have I?

No, no. No trouble, Lieutenant.

- Good night. | - I'll see you tomorrow on the plane, sir.

Sure. Tomorrow.

- Good night, Mrs Abbott. | - Good night, Major, and thanks again.

- Carl, I... | - No.

I, um...

I'm sorry, honey, I...

I got with a bunch of guys. | You know how it is.

- I ran into Major, uh... What's his name? | - Saville.

Oh, yeah. That's right. Saville.

He's a big man.

He and Imil - old buddies.

Killers.

Well, what do you know?

Saville.

- You mean the major with all the confetti? | - Yeah. That's the Cleaver. Come on.

- Hello, Cleaver. | - Colonel Imil.

- It's still Dutch. | - Thanks, Dutch.

Monkey Moncavage. Maybe you've heard | of him. He's got a large reputation - 11 MiGs.

It's a well-known name. | Glad to know you, Colonel.

- Pleasure, Major. | - Hey, knock it off. Knock it off.

- All right, knock it. | - This is Cleaver Saville.

We were flying together when all a pilot had | for breakfast was a cigarette and a hangover.

He's a big hunter. He's the iceman.

Get to know him, he's worth the trouble. | But don't fly with him unless you want action.

Come to the office.

You're going to like it here, Major. | It's only 24 miles to the shower.

Well, this is my home away from home.

We've seen worse.

Judas, this junk is heavy.

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