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doc#146 | , he urged his mount down the |
doc#146 | sighted, and his attacker pumping shot |
doc#146 | something tug at his foot. A |
doc#146 | torn half of his stirrup-guard |
doc#146 | A second twitched his shirtsleeve, and |
doc#146 | brief burn on his upper arm. |
doc#146 | Russ had hurled his mount to the |
doc#147 | or floated was his target. Fleischman |
doc#147 | area, with his main task to |
doc#147 | and waited for his pilot. Greg |
doc#147 | before. But his hands and those |
doc#147 | The expression was his trade-mark |
doc#147 | -mark, his open sesame to |
doc#147 | luck, and his prayer that pilot |
doc#147 | Donovan would keep his back to the |
doc#147 | chief to watch his plane take off |
doc#147 | seven members of his flight fell in |
doc#147 | Water splashed against his windshield as he |
doc#147 | radio button on his throttle. " |
doc#147 | , and pulled his four in and |