Ian eased the cowl back over the engine, letting the metal mantle drop the last half-inch into place with a slight clang. He was done. The repairs were finished as best as he could make them.
Personally Ian believed he was due a commendation or two simply for overcoming what most would consider to be insurmountable odds. Jury-rigged tools. Substandard replacement parts. No one to help him, much less anyone who understood the mechanical aspects of the aircraft. Ian paused from wiping his hands on a grease towel. Maybe that was a good thing.
He glanced at the closed plating underneath the wing. None of the angel people dared to approach the Gladiator. Therefore none of them knew what the plane contained, much less had any inkling of what the aircraft could do. He patted the fuselage as h
