<strong>HEINZ VON OBERAMMERGAU</strong><br/><br/>In the minute or so before the runway was free, I did some calculations and guesswork. The Zepp wouldn't be able to do more than about 60 to 70 knots, and hardly had the rate of climb of a fighter. It would probably be cruising at about 5000 feet or so, around cloud level. That crafty minx Lamarr would probably be hiding in the clouds to make things trickier. With a bit of teamwork we'd have landed on her within forty minutes in the air. Once I'd taken off and retracted my gear, I looked to the Grumman taking off with me and gave it a thumbs up.<br/><br/><strong>"Green Ranger, this is Zebra Duke,"</strong>I radioed McPherson,<strong>"Please assume a heading of 043 at 4500 feet to my starboard. I'll take overwatch at 6000 feet. Contact me when you see her and I'll return the favour."</strong><br/><br/>Soon, I was cruising northeast through the clouds at 300 kilometres per hour, at around 1800 meters, being a metric man at heart. The wispy white layer of cloud hung about a thousand feet below me, and I watched it for any sign of a blue cigar half a kilometre long.<br/>