Chapter 8

EIGHT

In-spite of their status as one of the special tasks units, Basilisk teams ‘Headquarters’ was what most would consider ‘underwhelming’. It was a small set of offices around a main reception area, in a long-forgotten corner of Osean Military Headquarters in Oured. Most of the officers assigned to Headquarters assumed that it was just another senator’s token force on a pet project, never paying it any second thoughts.

Colonel Jack Mancuso didn’t mind the lack of fanfare for his units headquarters however, Unlike other teams such as Sea Goblin, Basilisk rarely worked in large operations with multiple factors, and in the rare instances they did, Regional commanders would take the lead and occasionally defer orders up to their Headquarters.  It allowed for the teams to conduct operations without a constant link to Oured, as well as limiting the teams footprint in official records. The entire Basilisk team Headquarters Staff consisted of half a dozen officers and a dozen senior non-commissioned officers, all of whom had been assigned to the operational teams at some point but either due to age or injury were relegated to a rear-line detail. It was important work but Jack could see how some of his men hated trading their rifle for a pen.

Jack had arrived to the office a little after eight in the morning, walking in he greeted his duty NCO and walked to his office across the reception area. Before he could fully get settled however, there was a knock on his office door. He sighed at the interruption.

“Enter” he yelled.

Hearing the door creak open he turned to see the Officer on Duty, Major Stanton.

“Sir, just got a report from the Emmerian team” Stanton reported

“And?” Mancuso asked

“Brief data burst unfortunately. It appears the mission was a success, but Lieutenant Fick also reported the safehouse and team have been compromised by local authorities.” Stanton stated grimly.

“Any news yet on if they were captured?”

“Nothing yet, OIA Feed shows that it was an anonymous tip, they raided the safehouse, but our guys were long gone by then. Unfortunately, they have their current aliases and other basic info. We’re not sure where the leak was from, or if it was a malicious leak or someone just a bit too overzealous.”

“So, I take it the original egress plan is off the table?” Mancuso asked rhetorically.  Stanton nodded

The Emmerian raid was supposed to be a quick mission, no more than three weeks at most, and something Basilisk, and more importantly, the team assigned, had done dozens of times before with other war criminals and wannabe despots. The plan was always the same, fly in under cover, take the shot, and leave before anyone connects the dots. Local authorities getting involved muddied the matters significantly.

“Whats the plan then Major?”

“We were thinking about that. Looks like we have an attack sub nearby in the Razgriz strait.” Stanton reported, producing a printout of a Map of the region.

 

Mancuso studied the document for a moment. The submarine was one of the Seawolf class, the OFS Albacore.

Mancuso leaned over his desk studying the chart.

“What can you tell me the boat?”

“Albacore went underway about three weeks ago. Been playing cat and mouse with this Yuke Typhoon guided missile sub for the past week, the Red something or other. Our plan was for her to break off the patrol and have a quick port call in Gracemeria, from there we just disguise the team as members of the crew, and we slip out with Emmeria none the wiser.” Stanton explained.

Mancuso nodded in approval.

“Major, Im going to need a moment if you will excuse me.” Mancuso explained opening the phone directory on his desk. Flipping through for a moment he found the number he needed. He punched in the numbers and waited for only a second before the line picked up.

“Osean Sixth Fleet Headquarters” The voice on the other end said flatly

“This is Colonel Mancuso, I need to speak with Admiral Whitsel, I have the priority code here” Reading off the code Mancuso waited for a moment, the line went silent before he heard the phone go active again

“This is Admiral Whitsel, to whom am I speaking?” The voice asked annoyed.

“Hey Jim, its Jack”

“Oh, Hey Jack, what can I do for you today.”

“Im going to need to borrow one of your boats”

“That might be a tall order, which one you need?”

“Albacore from the looks of It. I have a team that’s in the shit and will need a subtle exfil”

“Shit Jack, can’t I just lend you a LHA and Marine platoon instead to get your boys out? Why do you want my Attack sub?”

“Not that simple, the port of calls going to be Gracemeria”

There was a brief silence on the line.

“I see. One of those missions then” Whitsel said

“Unfortunately.”

Whitsel sighed heavily

“Fine, I’ll get the priority order sent right away, what else will you need?” he asked

“Probably Uniforms and fake ID’s if you can swing it on a boat like that”

“Fake ID’s? what the fuck for? Your boys 16 and trying to get into a bar or something Jack?” Whitsel asked incredulously.

“Local cops possibly ID’d them, they’re going to need new Aliases and will have to look the part of Sailors” Mancuso explained.

“You really love to just kick us in the balls here, don’t you Jack?” Whitsel complained.

***

“Sonar, whats our distance to that Typhoon?” Commander Bart Lawrence barked

“Four thousand meters and holding” the sonar technician reported.

 

The Albacore had been tracking the Yuketobanian Typhoon-class guided missile submarine Red December for the previous week. It was a standard cat-and-mouse game both the Oseans and Yukes’ had played for decades, even in the inter-war periods following the Belkan War and the more recent Circum-Pacific War. While the politicians made nice, it was men like Commander Lawrence that kept the Yuke threat at bay.

 

“Mister Driver, whats the odds the Yukes know we’re here” Lawrence asked the Executive officer, Lieutenant Commander Ted Driver.

“better than average, even with the advancements, Seawolf’s don’t stop on a dime. And he’s been conducting Crazy-Ivans for the past three days on the hour.” Driver noted.

 

There was a tap on the Commanders shoulder, he turned to see a Yeoman holding a printed off report

“Sir, just got a message on the VLF, priority one from command” the Petty-officer reported.

 

Lawrence snorted and took the paper, dismissing the sailor. Pulling out his reading glasses he studied the order.

“You gotta be shitting me” he muttered.

“What is it skipper?” Driver asked.

“We are to break off our patrol and head straight for Gracemeria for a resupply? What the fuck is this shit?” Lawrence said annoyed.

He sighed. Before giving his orders.

“30 degree up angle, heading three six zero and get us up to Communications depth” Lawrence ordered the Albacore’s pilot.

Lawrence started to walk out of the CIC

“Mister Driver, come with me, Lieutenant Michaels you have the Conn”

“Aye Aye Sir” The officers reported.

***
“Is this a secure line?” Commander Lawrence barked to the boats communications officer

“Yes sir”

the Sub commander stared at the screen for a moment, only seeing the seal of the Osean Maritime Defense Force. Moments later the screen blinked, and he was greeted by two separate video feeds, one of a Marine Colonel he didn’t recognize, and the other feed being that of Admiral Whistel, Lawrence’s superiors superior.

“So, I take it this must be more than just making sure we have adequate supplies I take? I mean you are using one of our last secure comm birds for this chat” Lawrence asked.

“That would be correct Commander” The Colonel responded.

“Am I allowed then to ask what the hell your hijacking my boat for then?” Lawrence asked

“No you may not” Admiral Whitsel replied.

Lawrence pursed his lips in frustration. He wasn’t used to being left in the dark and he hated every minute of it.

“What’s the mission then?”

“You’re going to be in Gracemeria Harbor for three days. In that time, you will take on four extra crewmen- my Marines- and for all official purposes, they will be members of your crew. However, we will need one of your officers to provide Uniforms and documents to a specified drop location, and you will be sent a challenge and response to verify the men being brought onboard are the real deal” The Colonel explained.

“If they’re Oseans, why can’t we fly them out normally?” Lawrence asked

“Classified” Whitsel responded.

“So am I to expect that these men get free reign of my boat as well?” Lawrence shot at the Marine.

“Honestly? I don’t care what you do with them once they’re on your boat. Work em to death or confine them for all I care. Once you get them onboard your new movement orders will be sent and then they will no longer be your issue.” The Colonel explained.

Lawrence was somewhat satisfied with that concession. He had done some work with OIA Wet-work teams and Osean Frogmen teams in the past and he loathed how much they took from his boat with no real way for pushback. From where Lawrence sat, it looked like just a slightly modified asset retrieval mission.

“Will my crew be expected to stay on the boat during the Gracemeria port visit?” Lawrence asked.

“Quite the contrary, what we need is your sailors out, about and most importantly, seen.” The Colonel explained.

Lawrence nodded, understanding the basic plan.

“Great. We should be there by this evening” Lawrence reported.

“Good. Report to us when the Documents have been dropped off” Whitsel said, before both feeds blinked out and Lawrence was once again greeted with the seal of the Maritime Defense Force.

***
Zhao, Morgan and Adams sat around the space heater in the empty Storage container. Dennings stayed by the container door peering out the crack, to his side at the low and ready he carried CZ-82.

 A few moments later a knock rang on the outside of the container.

“Elephant!” a voice shouted from the exterior.

Dennings waited for the other Marines to brace themselves, grabbing various knives and handguns, before responding “Circus!” he shouted, Opening the door.

Fick stood at the entryway, his hands akimbo carrying a lighter and pack of cigarettes. Seeing his figure put the team at ease. Allowing the Lieutenant to enter, Dennings shut the container door behind him. Fick tossed Morgan the pack of cigarettes, allowing the senior NCO to ration out the sticks.

“Whats the plan boss?” Adams asked, lighting up his cigarette. He took a drag, briefly making the tip burn a bright orange, before exhaling the acrid smoke a moment later.

Fick waited for the Marines to start their smokes before he started to explain.

“Well simply put we’re not flying out here as you might have guessed” He explained

“What? Does that mean they expect us to swim back?” Zhao asked rhetorically

“or will we be sneaking into Estovakia? Getting out that way?” Dennings added.

Fick shook his hand dismissively.

“Well, before I continue. Dennings your claustrophobic, right?” Fick asked,

“A bit sir, why do you ask?” Dennings replied truthfully. The Sergeants looked around to themselves uncomfortably, feeling where the conversation was going.

“Well in that case, your going to absolutely love this. Squids are pulling our asses out of the fire on this one.” Fick explained.

“How so? I didn’t think we had any surface warships nearby” Morgan stated.

“’No surface warships’; That is correct Gunny. However, we just so happen to have a fast-attack sub coming to our rescue in our time of need today.” Fick said, flashing a devilish grin.

“Fuck, I think I’d rather swim” Dennings groaned

“Well how about this Corporal? We need someone to go pick up the uniforms and documents that will get us one that boat, How about you and Morgan go?” Fick offered

“Why us?” Morgan asked

“Well the Cops are looking for Zhao and myself, and Dennings really looks like he could go for a drink” Fick elaborated.

“Cool, when do we go?” Dennings asked excitedly.

“Boats coming into port in a couple hours, supposed to meet a crewman there at twenty hundred hours, they’re going to leave the bag for us, and we make our way to the boat tomorrow. It’s a little pub a few blocks from the harbor” Fick explained.

“Finally, getting paid to drink on the militaries dime, aint being a Marine great?” Adams said teasingly, punching Dennings in the arm

“Oorah” Dennings said half-heartedly.

***

Commander Lawrence and his executive officer, Lieutenant Commander Driver, stood aboard the Albacore’s sail, watching the submariners disembark from the boat. 

“I don’t know how I feel about locals running security for us sir” Driver said

“Understandable, Unfortunately the navy wasn’t able to roll out all the considerations in time.” Lawrence assuaged.

It was nearing evening when the submarine pulled into harbor, after the standard fanfare passed that came whenever they visited a friendly port, Lawrence now had to put the actual mission of the Albacore in motion.

“XO, I’m going to need a favor to ask of you” Lawrence said, staring off into the city

“and that is sir?” Driver replied

“Well, simply put, I need you to drop some laundry off at a pub” Lawrence said flatly.

“A pub? Sir?” Driver said confused, “You are aware I’m Mormon right sir?” he added

Lawrence chuckled. “Don’t worry XO, you can have a Diet Coke for all I care, I just need this dropped off, and Local Intel probably will be watching me like a hawk, and COB has his own mess to worry about with all these sailors getting free time. Just take it to this pub, have a drink, leave the duffel bag and just go do some tourist stuff before coming back to the boat” Lawrence explained

“Is that an order sir?” Driver said uneasy

“Yes, Lieutenant Commander, it is. Take the night off after completing your mission” Lawrence ordered.

***

The pub was small, and a favorite for some of the longshoremen who worked in the harbor. To the untrained eye, Morgan and Dennings looked no different than many of the blue-collar workers crowding the few booths and tables in the smokey, faux-wood, lined room. While Dennings nursed another IPA, Morgan sat eating peanuts and studying those who entered the bar. He caught himself wishing he could trade places with Zhao, whose ability to pick out a person from a crowd was uncanny to say the least.

“Hey, what time is it anyways?” Dennings slurred

Morgan glared at him “You better not be drunk” he said deadpan,

“Eh, whats the big deal? I shoot better drunk” Dennings defended himself, before taking another swig from his pint-glass.

“You sir are a fucking hipster” Morgan mocked, before looking at his wristwatch

1859

“Hmm, must be an officer than” Morgan said passively, returning to his studying of the door.

A few moments later, to no-one’s attention aside from Morgan, the door opened. In walked a short black man, his bald head covered by a black baseball cap that had a Submarine Warfare insignia and the words OFS ALBATROSS – SSN-814 in gold lettering on the top and bottom of it. The way he carried himself was stilted, and obviously military. He wore a plain blue blazer and was still wearing his uniform trousers. What also caught Morgan’s attention was that he walked in carrying a duffel bag.

He watched the sailor make his way to the bar, taking a seat he clumsily ordered a drink and started to brood.

Morgan tapped Dennings on the arm “There’s our man” he said in a low voice

“Want me to say hi?” Dennings asked

“Might work, go for it buddy” Morgan said supportively. He watched the Corporal hop off his stool and shakily make his way towards the Osean interloper.

He couldn’t tell what Dennings or the Osean was saying, but from the mans body language, he could tell that the Corporals conversation was making him uncomfortable. Their talk was interrupted when the bartender returned with the Osean’s drink, taking it as a cue to leave, Dennings quickly grabbed the duffel bag and returned to Morgan.

“Nice talk?” Morgan asked rhetorically  

“Yep, Ready to get out of here?” Dennings said, stifling a burp

***

Henderson looked dumbfounded

“What the hell do you mean theres an Osean submarine in the harbor?” he asked annoyed

“Well, they just pulled in, Emergency or something” another Agent reported.

“And your only just now telling me this?” Henderson hissed.

“Whats the big deal anyways?” A Police detective asked, “The testimony Thomas gave has the attackers speaking Erusean, and all the weapons we found in the safehouse were Estovakian, Theres nothing pointing at the Oseans doing this” he explained.

“Which is all the more reason its suspicious that it’s occurring right now” Henderson yelled.

“I think your grasping at straws here Mitch” stated Station Director Fitzgerald “Everything is pointing to the Stovies, and even if it was the Oseans, what makes you think we could get on that Submarine to find them?”

“Well-“Henderson stammered, “We could say one of their crewman broke the law! Then we’d get a search warrant!”  he said excitedly

“Fat chance. Mitch, you’re not stepping a foot on that boat.” Fitzgerald ordered.

“But Sir!” Henderson protested

***
The Marines stood before the port’s entrance, having traded their civilian attire for the flat navy-blue coveralls of the Osean Submariners, they blended in with the dozens of sailors milling around the port before departure.

“This sucks! Navy’s going to give us so much shit for this” Adams complained

“You think that’s bad, I’m supposed to be a fucking Petty Officer” Fick replied, trying to console the Sergeant.  

“Well, it beats swimming out of here” Zhao said depressed.

“Well I just hope I don’t have to see that dude I stole these from yesterday” Dennings said in a joking tone.

The five Marines made their way towards the boat. Finding the ships ensign, they saluted, before continuing towards the front of the boat. Standing single file with the other sailors waiting to board, Morgan looked around nervously

“Relax” Zhao reminded him

Morgan chuckled

“Guess im still nervous after all these years” He confided.

Waiting in the queue, Morgan heard a commotion, turning around, he could see a quagmire unfolding between the local Emmerian military guarding the port and multiple government agents of some kind

“Fuck me running” Adams said astonished at the scene unfolding.

“Boss, Orders?” Morgan growled

“Stay cool, as far as they know, we’re just crewman.” Fick said calmly

Morgan watched as a middle aged officer forced his way through the slog of Emmerian soldiers and started running towards the Boat, Osean sailors and Emmerian Marines, dumbstruck with the scene watched as the man fished out a badge and started yelling at the boat.

“This has certainly taken a weird turn” Fick said bemused. His mood was quickly soured when the agent quickly made his way towards them

“I need you all to come with me!” He barked, His face red with the exertion.

“Im sorry what now?” Adams hissed

“You all are being placed under arrest!” the Agent bellowed

“Under whose authority?” Morgan asked

“Mine Dipshit! Special Agent Henderson, GDES” The Agent yelled, grabbing the front of Morgan’s uniform

Morgan had a brief flash of rage at the intruder, before he could act on his anger, he was interrupted by one of the sailors.

“Under what charges!” yelled the sailor.

“Espionage and murder!” Agent Henderson bellowed, tugging in vain at the much more muscular Morgan. He only stopped attempting when an Emmerian Marine came over and placed his hands on the agent’s shoulders.

“Sir, I think you better leave before you cause an International incident” the Emmerian advised

“Fuck you!” Henderson yelled.

“Is there a problem here? Why are you assaulting my men?” Asked another Sailor, Morgan looked to see the man had a Commanders insignia on his uniform. Morgan read his nametape, LAWRENCE.

“These men are Spies!” bellowed Henderson.

“Interesting, have any proof of that?” Commander Lawrence asked amused.

This stopped the agent in his tracks

“Well… Not exactly, But!-“ The Agent started

“Well I’ve heard enough here, Get the fuck out of here and leave my sailors alone” The Commander cut off Henderson, buying enough time for more Emmerian Marines to come and remove the would-be Intruder. Lawrence turned and looked at the Osean Marines, he studied their name tapes and chuckled approvingly, before making his way across the gangway back to his boat.

***
Osean Special Investigations Agent Jeff Palmer read the incident report multiple times. Henderson was not someone he had met but was somewhat known for his dogged determination in routing out spies. If the Report was accurate, he had also just been terminated from his position in the DGES for nearly causing an international incident with the crew of an Osean nuclear attack submarine.

He sighed disappointed.

“What’s up?” Special Agent Baxter inquired

“I was hoping we could root out that bastard while his team was in Emmeria, guess not” Palmer sighed.

“We’ll get him next time” Baxter said reassuringly. “The bastards smart but he isn’t infallible” Baxter added.

Chapter 7

 SEVEN

Morgan stared through the binoculars from their position, jotting details into a notebook, it was a rough estimate of a range card for the aging rifle, but it was the best the two could come up with on short notice.

“What are we looking at for range” Adams asked, tinkering with the scope.

“if my Trig is right, two hundred ninety-one yards.”

“two ninety-one, Damn we’re close”

“Deal with it.” Morgan replied flatly, continuing to observe the school’s playground.

 

The two were perched on an office building down the block from the school, from the roof they could see the entire playground and field of the brick building.
Morgan was pleasantly surprised how easy it had been to infiltrate the area, the two having snuck in the previous night disguised as maintenance workers.

 

Morgan took note of the flood of children coming out of the schoolhouse, he kept a keen eye on all the adults that were with them.

“Target spotted” he advised, giving Adams a moment to brace the rifle

Morgan watched as their target walked along with the children, before going her separate way over to the location of the other adults observing the children.

“White blouse, Sector H, 150 feet from the main exit” Morgan said coolly, a second later Adams responded

“I have 2 mils crotch to head” Adams

Morgan took a look at the range card
“1 mil up” Morgan replied

“Rah, 1 mil up”

“Wind is 4 miles left to right, just a hair left” Morgan advised

“Wind 4 miles, holding left” Adams replied

“Send it”

 BANG

Morgan waited the half second, but to his disappointment, the bullet landed short, he saw a large puff of dirt explode in front of the adults

He could hear Adams cycling the bolt, Morgan took another second before reporting

“Negative impact, looks to have landed a few feet short”

Morgan studied the adult’s reaction, Little to his surprise it appeared the Target was quick to realize the situation and started yelling something.

“Target moving, towards the door, Sector A” Morgan reported

Before Adams could reply, he heard the radio key up

“Rider One-Three, Assassin One-One, be advised, Target is still active, and the school is going into lockdown” Zhao reported

“Magus, Assassin One-One, Do I need to take the shot?” Zhao then asked

“Shit, theres too many kids getting in the fucking way” Adams hissed

A moment later, the radio keyed alive again.

“Rider One-Three, Assassin One-One, Magus One-Four, disengage” The Lieutenant ordered.

“Rider One-Three, Assassin One-one, Magus, Egress now, Report back to baseplate” Fick barked before the radio went silent.

 

The two operators quickly started dismantling their nest, as Morgan prepared their escape route, he could hear the crackling hiss of thermite as Adams destroyed the rifle and evidence.

“So long you piece of shit” Morgan could hear Adams say as he walked away from the runaway reaction, joining Morgan in the service elevator.

By the time the two reached the ground floor of the building, they could see the police presence around the school.

“Glad we don’t have to stick around for that clean-up” Adams said flatly

 

***

“What happened?” Fick asked.

The team was crowded around the kitchen table in the safehouse, Dennings sat with his head resting on his folded arms on the table, staring blankly at the large map of the school’s neighborhood in the center. Zhao had a field stripped his Makarov and was absent mindedly applying oil to the slide.

Morgan noticed Adams had been dejected since they had returned to the safehouse.

“Basically Sir, we were told to work with what we had, and that was unproven equipment” Morgan replied leaning back in his chair and putting his hands behind his head.

“Rounds and rifle were not up to par, so even an experienced sniper can’t expect that behavior” He continued, defending the young Sergeant.

Fick listened intently.

“Well now what do we do?” Zhao asked

“More than likely we deal with the messier option, We may need to take the direct approach on this one” Fick said grimly.

It was not something they were unused to, but the ‘direct’ approach meant not only a raid, but also being in direct contact with the target which tended to bring unaccounted for variables into the mix.

“Cops know she has a target on her head. Its going to make getting to her that much harder.” Zhao reported

“Yeah not everyday the teacher of the year almost gets her head ripped off with a thirty caliber” Adams said sulking.

“Wow dude, you have some fuckin issues” Dennings responded.

“Standard Procedure from here, Zhao has comms. Dennings your in-charge of Transport. Adams and Morgan will be the assault element. No mistakes this time” Fick replied

“Do we even know where she lives?” Morgan asked.

Fick exited the room briefly, before returning with a handful of print outs, Blueprints of a house layout.

“I had OIA send these over. We have everything we need. The house backs up to a park, you will infil here-“ Fick explained, pointing out a spot on the map a block away from the park “Making your way through the park to the back of the house. From there it’s a standards house clearing. Once the targets eliminated, you make your way to exfil at the location, dump the gear and we can get the hell out of here”

It was a simple plan, as Fick elaborated on the finer details Morgan could see the outline of the plan. It was ugly, but quick and violent enough that the local authorities would probably be too caught off guard to make any connections before they had already returned to Osea.

 

“What do we do if local Law Enforcement arrives?” Morgan asked.

“Do what you need to do, but I prefer the body count to stick to one on this one”

“What about the family?” Adams asked

“What about them? Like I said, preferably don’t kill them but don’t let them jeopardize the mission either” Fick said pragmatically.

***

Two figures moved through the park silently. As they anticipated, their target was a small two-story house, unassuming and cookie cutter like all the rest in the surrounding neighborhood.

As the two figures closed in on the house a radio crackled to life.

“Magus to Rider’s, Green light”

It was nearing midnight. The occupants of the home had long gone to bed. No one would heard the rear door lock click open.

***
Antoinette didn’t know why she woke up. Restless nights were a problem plaguing her as long as her time in the academy. She looked over to her husband, snoring away, his ability to sleep through almost anything was both an endearing and bothersome trait to her.

She thought often about coming clean to her family about who she really was. She wasn’t sure how any of them would take it. Her Son was still too young to know of any conflicts outside of their Country, and even then, he was still too young to remember the occupation. Her husband was an upstanding citizen with an almost unfaltering belief in the law, she couldn’t face him if he knew about how stained her hands were.

Antoinette slipped out of bed and put on a bathrobe, walking down the hall she paused and looked into her son’s room. He was almost ten now, Antoinette hated herself that she hoped that her bringing him into this world may through some karmic way offset the atrocities she committed.

CLICK

Though nearly inaudible, the sound of the door’s lock opening rang through Antoinette’s ears like a gunshot.

She stopped in her tracks and listened closely for a moment, The subtle sounds she heard were not that of a burglar, whoever had entered her home was trained, and despite her Husbands law enforcement training, Antoinette knew this was a fight he was unprepared for.

She crept her way down the staircase, pausing at the landing.
There, she was greeted face to face with two heavily armed men.

“Who are you!?” She shrieked

The lead man paused and looked at Antoinette

“Sei vous colonnello Bradley?” he said in a low gravelly voice. Are you Colonel Bradley?

Antoinette froze, He spoke in Erusean, the accent was off, but the words were impeccable.

“Et si je le suis?” And if I am? She choked out, it had been years since she had openly spoke her mother tongue, to her ears they sounded painful an awkward.

“Alors tu sais ce que nous devons faire” the man responded emotionlessly. So you know what we have to do

“Et ma famille?” she responded, tears welling up in her eyes at the thought. What about my family?

“seulement s’ils s’impliquent” he responded only if they get involved

She nodded, wiping a tear from her cheek.

“Etes-vous les hommes qui m’ont tire dessus plus tot?” she asked Were you the men who shot at me earlier?

“Oui”

Antoinette weighed her options. These men were brazen enough to attempt their mission in broad daylight, and skillful enough to evade authorities after the fact. She had so many questions and she didn’t nearly have the time to receive all the answers.

“Ainsi soit-il” she responded sadly. So be it

Antoinette’s world went black within the span of the muzzle flash.

***
Antoinette looked at the orders before her.

It was a priority one hunting mission, the first her squadron of Mi-24 Hind gunships had received since its activation months prior.

She was one of the youngest field grade officers in the Erusean military, a protégé her professors had hailed her. It was no surprise since she had pinned on the rank of Major at twenty-one and was recently promoted to Lieutenant Colonel the week of her twenty second birthday.

 

The plan Strategic Headquarters handed down was brutally simple. The 28^th Helicopter Squadron was to depart their aerodrome, Cross the front lines between San Salvacion towards the city of San Marco, and eliminate any local forces amassing in the area. Precautions were to be taken to limit civilian casualties and damage to local infrastructure so the Erusean Army could capture the city in the coming weeks.

 

She looked to her commanding officer, Colonel Andres

“Colonel Bradley do you think your squadron is up to the task?” he asked her again.

“Of course,” she replied.

“Good, carry out your orders Colonel” he responded saluting

 

Antoinette couldn’t help but smile as she made her way towards the squadrons briefing room.

 

Missions like this got them noticed, and led to better missions, better recognition and better positions in the military. If there was one thing Antoinette was starting to hate about the military, it had been all the blood shed she witnessed; A position at HQ would avoid the frontlines, and the resultant bloodshed.

 

The next few hours for Antoinette was a blur, the briefing went as simple enough. Pathfinder units had reported expected force sizes and weather information, Intel reported any potential enemy hazards such as jammers and AAA, and finally Antoinette gave the full mission briefing.  Four groups of five Hinds each would all make their way across the frontlines and towards San Marco, once regrouped they would make multiple passes, first identifying enemy targets and targets of opportunity, then eliminating them.

Walking out to the flight line her crew chief, Aviation Sergeant Tupolev saluted her

“Everything ok with her Sergeant?” Antoinette asked

“Nothing to report madame, if you asked them too, these Hinds would dance for you” The crew chief grinned, saluting her.

Antoinette quite liked Tupolev, he was one of the older Non-commissioned officers attached to the squadron and reminded her more of a grandfatherly figure rather than grizzled war veteran.

 

“San Marco, Six minutes out” Antoinette reported over the radio.

She looked around the cramped cockpits windows, one of the Helicopter groups hadn’t regrouped, and they were not responding to radio calls.

“Dancer Four-One, Dancer One-One, in the blind, do you copy?” She called out.

“Ahead, There!” She heard a pilot call out

Antoinette squinted towards the horizon before she saw it. Large pillars of black smoke belched from the horizon.

“Another unit take the city?” a pilot inquired.

“No, we were the only unit nearby” Antoinette said concerned.

Had the San Salvacion’s razed the city? She wondered to herself.

“There, Gunships 12 O’clock, ten miles!” her gunner reported

She could see the insectoid shapes crisscrossing the sky, periodically she could see muzzle flashes from the 12.7 mm gatling gun as it belched rounds into the City.

 

“Ma’am, its Dancer Four, Bastards started without us!” A pilot cried.

 

Antoinette maneuvered the gunship around the city, She was appalled at what she saw.

 

Instead of troops, machinery and weapons. Antoinette saw civilians, she couldn’t be sure from the helicopter’s altitude but the torn apart bodies were too irregular and colorful to be the expected military force.

 

“All Dancers, halt your performance” She choked out on the radio. Still she could see the four Hinds continuing their onslaught on the population below.

“God Dammit, I said Cease Fire!” She bellowed, tears now streaming down her face.

The Hinds continued.

 

She composed herself, choking down the tears.

“All Dancers, Hinds in region are to be considered hostile, Fire at will”.

“Ma’am are you sure?” Another pilot asked

“Do it!” She cried.

Silently she watched as her squadron targeted, and opened fire on the closest gunship. She prayed the whir of the gatling gun would mask the sounds of her pathetic whimpers as she watched the Helicopter before her explode crashing to the city below.

“Blue on Blue! Cease Fire Goddammit This is Dancer Four-Four, Cease Fire!” She heard a call on the radio.



She felt hollow, slumped in the chair across from Adres. She hadn’t even removed her flight gear when he grabbed her and led her to his office.

She sat as Andres Spoke into the telephone. The conversation seemed like hours for her, she wasn’t even sure of her ability to speak, let alone understand.

“I see, thank-you” Andres said, before hanging up the phone.

He stared at her and sighed leaning on the desk

“Seven hundred dead. That’s the current count from observers” he reported.

She sat emotionlessly.

“Looks like the Radio’s were improperly programmed, so they weren’t on the right frequency to regroup” He continued.

“Board probably wont be convened this early into the war, This shouldn’t reflect on you since it was an honest to god mistake, that’s out of your control. From where we sit right now, it was Lieutenant Gorobetz’s fault, not yours” He replied. Gorobetz had been an element leader in charge of Dancer Four.

“But I’m still the commander” She replied.

***
Officer Thomas loved his new patrol route. His time as a beat cop were over as far as he knew, now instead of the violent inner city of Gracemeria, he had a life of pure police luxury in the suburbs.

He was making his routine rounds through the neighborhoods when he saw the flash from a few houses ahead of him. It was followed almost immediately by the sound of a gunshot. He halted his cruiser, almost unsure of if his brain was playing tricks on him.

 

He grabbed the radio

“Unit 228, Possible 415G at the address of –“ He paused, looking at the map,

“- Going to need additional units, over”

Seconds later, dispatch responded “228, Roger, Units en-route, ETA five minutes”

You gotta be fucking kidding me, He thought to himself, “Fuck this” he muttered

“Unit 228, Investigating”

 

He turned on his lights and siren, and ran up to the door, He could see a man through the windows making his way towards the rear of the house, he wasn’t sure but they looked armed.

“Unit 228, armed Male suspect, Exiting the back of the house, I’m in pursuit” he said, making his way over the fence and towards the rear of the house.

 Before he could around the corner, Thomas felt a sharp pain in his back, lightning flashed behind his eyes as he felt every muscle tense up. Through the mental overload of every nerve in his body screaming in agony, Thomas recognized the shrill report of a stun-gun. A moment later the shock was gone, and he collapsed to the ground gasping for air.

He looked to the side and was greeted with two boots, He could feel his assailant paw around his belt, Thomas tried in vain to reach for his service weapon before feeling his hand get smacked out of the way.

“Detendexz-vous” Relax A voice said, Thomas craned his neck up to see another man. His Vision was blurry but he could tell that the man was armed with a rifle and looked to be in some sort of military uniform.

Thomas heart skip a beat when he heard the click from his holster, feeling his attacker pull his service weapon out, he waited for the inevitable.

“Glock 17? Jesus fucking Christ.” Thomas heard his attacker mutter, before tossing the handgun into the bushes

“Who are you people?” Thomas slurred out, starting to feel his senses return. The Second man casually walked over and crouched next to the officer.

“Ne t'inquiète pas, ça ne te tuera pas, mais ça fera mal” The man sad in a low gravely tone. The last thing Thomas could see was a fist flying at his face.

***
“Did you really have to punch him in the face?” Adams asked.

“Beats him immediately calling for backup. Odds are we stuck around any longer that place was going to be crawling with cops. Besides he will wake up in a few minutes anyways… I think” Morgan explained.

 

The two men walked calmly through the park back towards the van, having dumped their rifles and equipment along the way.

 

“Only thing left to do is pack up and get back to Oured for debrief” Morgan added. A slight smile crept across his face as he could hear the increase in Sirens and the drone of helicopters fast approaching.

 

“Sounds like our cue to leave” Adams noted.

The two men found their van along with Dennings.

“Keep the meter running?” Adams asked, hopping into the back

“  ‘Fraid so, you guys better tip well” Dennings shot back, putting the van in drive.

 “Just drive” Morgan ordered, killing the conversation. Waiting a second he pulled out the secure hand held transmitter and turned it on.

“Magus, Rider, Grail is filled” He said, before killing the radio.

***

Special Agent Mitch Henderson sat at his desk staring at the computer monitor. Having been one of the most senior agents of the Emmerian General Directorate for External Security’s Gracemeria branch had some perks, but as he approached retirement, especially in the open cooperation of a post-war Emmeria, he found those perks few and far between.

 

Long gone had been the days of chasing Estovakian or Yuketobanian spies through the streets or busting large terrorist cells with goals of causing pandemonium across the country. Now most intelligence groups were more focused on attacking computer networks from continents away; It made men like Mitch a dying breed in the Law Enforcement community.

 

Scrolling through his email, he noticed one that caught his eye.

From Your Friends in the OADF

Mitch thought to himself for a moment. “Who do I know in the OADF?” He asked himself, While he had some experience with foreign intelligence communities, to the best of his knowledge he hadn’t worked with any from the Osean Air Force.

He opened the Email.

 

Mitch,

We haven’t met before, but you can view this as an anonymous tip.

The OADF Office of Special Investigations has been tracking a mole for the past few months, and we think he’s gone to ground in Emmeria, Particularly your back yard.

All the breadcrumbs lead to this house, I trust you can get the job done

Jeff

 

Henderson could see attached to the email was a simple text document, opening it up he recognized coordinates, along with names and aliases.

A second of searching later he saw it led to a small unassuming house on the outskirts of the city.

Henderson heart started racing, he frantically dialed the number in his phone

“This is Henderson, I need the Q.R.F right away”

***

Fick sat in a chair feeling satisfied. The mission was almost over. They had plane tickets ready and would be on the next flight out tomorrow.

“Hey boss, guess we bagged another one, right?” Zhao asked, walking into the room.

“Yep. Old man might even give us R&R if we’re lucky” Fick replied satisfied.

“Only if, Life can’t ever be that easy” Zhao said shaking his head.

Just then, a message alert pinged across the secure computer.

“Shit did I jinx it?” Zhao asked rhetorically

Fick got up and briskly walked over to the computer and read the message.

“Fuck” he said flatly

“What?” Zhao asked

“Get ready to slag everything. Someone just burned out asses and we have about six minutes before this place will be crawling with local cops” Fick said, running to the team’s radio.

Zhao nodded and started getting to work. It was a contingency they had prepared for. He grabbed two thermite grenades and the cardboard boxes where they kept their sensitive documents.

Fick turned on a beacon, the assault team would have a receiver that would get the message and force them to exfil to the secondary hideout, it was the best they could do in the situation.

Grabbing his jacket and the secure radio, Fick walked to the back of the house, even before exiting he could see the brilliant flashes of the thermite as they burned with impunity through the reams of paper documents.

“Computers are slagged too, do we care about the weapons?” Zhao reported

“Nope” Fick said flatly, trying not to look directly into the runaway thermal reaction

“Cool, lets get going” Zhao said.


the two men were down the block by the time they could see the police arriving to the scene.

***
The three Marines sat in silence in the van, listening to the warbled siren emanating from one of their radios.

“What the hell is that?” Adams finally spoke up

Dennings chuckled before turning off the radio.

“That my friend, means we’re probably not going home tomorrow” Dennings said only half amused at the revelation.

Chapter 6

 SIX

“Is that the target?” Adams asked, tapping Morgan on the shoulder.

“Possibly” Morgan replied

The two men sat in a parked cargo van across the street from the school. They, along with the rest of their team had been in country the past few weeks stalking their prey.

“Did you read up on who it is?” Morgan asked the younger Adams.

“Nope, figured it doesn’t really matter in the long run” Adams replied, taking a sip of his coffee. Morgan shook his head in disappointment.

Glen Morgan had been with the team for almost fifteen years by this point, rising to the ranks of Gunnery Sergeant. He had seen almost every battlefield, foreign and domestic, while conducting their ever-changing missions. His partner on the other hand was newly promoted Sergeant Curt Adams, who had only been on the teams a little over a year, having transferred after a brief stint in the other Osean Marine Corps Special Forces unit.

“I don’t know how you did it while tasked to Sea Goblin, But-“Morgan started

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, ‘You want something done flashy, call Sea Goblin, you want something done right, call Basilisk’. Believe me, I’ve heard that enough from the Old Man and the Lieutenant at this point” Adams dismissed.

“Clearly it still hasn’t stuck” Morgan replied, feeling satisfied in hearing the annoyance in the younger NCO’s voice.  He turned his attention back to the school.

From what he could tell, it was a modest brick building, approximately three stories tall with a large school yard in the back where he could see dozens of children playing. It was located almost in the heart of the City.

Morgan rolled down the window of the van and listened intently to the sound.

It was that of any other major City, He could hear the sounds of cars honking, birds chirping, children playing and that ever constant dull roar that accompanied any large collection of people. It was a stark contrast to the sounds he heard almost four years prior.

The Gracemeria Morgan had known had been quite different.

A Platoon from Basilisk had been dispatched to Emmeria in late 2015 to support the guerilla’s opposing the occupation from the neighboring Estovakians. He had been in Gracemeria when the Emmerian army liberated the city six months later. The Gracemeria Morgan knew was one of a burning skyline, set to the backdrop of gunfire and the high pitched whine of fighter jets arcing across the sky.

He was more than happy to not recognize the city today.

“So, are you going to tell me or just expect me to be able to read minds?” Adams asked.

“How about you just shut up and read the fuckin dossier the Broker passed along to us. Besides we don’t know its her yet, that’s what Zhao is checking up on”

“Better him dealing with the brats than us” Adams snorted.

 

There was a loud tap on the passenger door window that startled both men.

“fuck” hissed Adams as he rolled down the window. “Just let me do the talking” Morgan growled as he studied the interloper briefly, one of Gracemeria’s finest.

“Morning gentlemen, mind if I ask what your doing here?” the police officer asked.

“Ah, just having breakfast. Anything we can help you with officer?” Morgan quickly responded, flashing a fake grin in an attempt to sell the lie.

“Interesting… Just got a call about some suspicious activity in the area, would you two know anything about it?” The officer asked incredulously.

“Can’t say that we have” Morgan replied.

“Interesting, You boys have your ID’s on you”

“Yes sir” Curt replied, pulling out and handing over an ID card, Morgan producing a passport and handing it over to the officer.

“I see. mister Martin Baker and mister Kelly Johnson, is it?” The officer said, studying both documents “You boys from Usea?” he added.

“Yes sir, just moved. We were looking for schools for another friend of ours and decided to check this one out” Morgan responded. It was half true, and Morgan hoped that was enough to wave off the questions from the cop.

“I see mister Baker, Well I don’t know how it works in Usea but in Emmeria, we find that suspicious. Im going to let you boys go but I suggest when you search for schools, do it the old fashion way. Less people thinking your kidnappers that way” the officer chided before returning the documents and strolling away.

The men sat in silence until they were sure the officer was not returning.

 

“Shit that was close” Adams said, breathing a sigh of relief

“Agreed. Lets hope that’s the only hang up we have this op.” Morgan said, putting the Van in drive.

“Should we report it in?” Curt asked

“Probably. The sniffers in the back, we can see if the cop left us any presents in a moment” Morgan explained, as he made his way to an empty convenience store parking lot.

 

Adams got out first and turned on the sniffer, it was a simple device that scanned for anything emitting an RF signal, passive or active. Feeling satisfied the vehicle was ‘clean’, he made his way into the store, wandering around and looking the part of the haplessly unaware customer.

Returning the the van a moment later Adams produced a bag of random junk food and drinks.

“Why?” Morgan asked

“Dunno, seemed fitting for a stakeout” Adams responded childishly.

“Jesus… Just don’t get any Cheesy-puff marks on the dossier” Morgan ordered, pulling the van out of the parking lot and making his way towards the harbor.

***

“What the fuck do you mean you don’t know where the gear is?” Morgan hissed. Corporal Jeff Dennings shrugged in defeat. “just got passed down from the Old Man earlier. Guess it got seized in customs” he explained.

“Fuck!” Adams yelled, kicking the tire of the van in frustration.

Morgan cringed at his subordinate’s outburst. The harbor was one of the busiest movement areas in the entire country of Emmeria, no one would know, or even care, about the small gathering of Osean Marines discussing illegal arms shipments, one of the many reasons they had chosen the harbor as the meeting place.

 

“So did we pick it up, or did the Emmerians?” Morgan asked

“El-Tee said it was the Oseans, They seem to think it is related to some Saipanish cartel operation, they made a big deal out of it” Dennings explained

“Im sure the OIA had something to do with them coming to that conclusion” Adams replied

“Probably, kinda weird since the Cartel are just a bunch of pussies, and they prefer more rudimentary gear than that stuff.” Dennings noted.

 

“Well what ever it is, they just made our jobs that much harder. Wonder who that blue-falcon mother fuck gets the credit for that. Hey Gunny can we kill them next?” Adams moaned.

 

“Stow it, Sergeant.” Morgan barked “We aren’t sunk yet. War wasn’t that long ago, do we still have the supply caches around here?” he asked Dennings

The corporal shook his head solemnly.

“Not an option, Emmerian Army made a big deal cleaning the old guerilla sites up, Most of the gear was theirs anyways“

“What about gun stores?” Morgan implored

“Hard telling. I can look around but Emmeria’s kind of still weird about all that shit. That being said the war wasn’t long ago and the Arms bazar of Estovakia is still open, I can see what I can do.” Dennings replied.

“Well we’re still on the timetable. I suggest we get back to the safehouse and discuss everything with the Lieutenant.” Morgan said scratching the stubble on his chin.

“Sounds good, Im just gonna go off and do my own thing” Dennings said, making a lazy about face before strolling off.

Morgan and Adams stood around for a few moments, Adams finishing up a cigarette, watching large container ships pass under the Kings Bridge. Satisfied enough time passed, the two made their way back towards the parked van.

“So now what?” Adams asked

“We head back to baseplate and go from there” Morgan replied.

***

Antoinette watched the children playing in the school yard. Even though it had been years, She still kept her guard up whenever she was exposed like this. It was a behavior her husband picked up on, though chalked up to other childhood traumas, rather than its route cause.

It had been over a decade since she saw the landscape of her homeland. As, far as the world knew, she had been killed in an ISAF attack. No longer was she leading troops from the bay of Gunships or planning insurgent operations against the bastards who walked right up to their front door. As much as she hated herself for it, she was relieved to put that life behind her.

She felt a slight tug at her pants leg, Antoinette looked down to be greeted with the inquisitive eyes of one of her students. She crouched down to get to eye level with the little girl.

“What can I help you with sweetie?” Antoinette asked,

The child shifted nervously before stammering out her question,

“Miss Hall, What happened to your face?” the child squeaked out.

“Lauren!” Another teacher who witnessed the incident shrieked behind Antoinette. The high pitch of the Adult made both Antoinette and the girl cringe. “You know that’s very rude, and you shouldn’t ask those questions!” The Teacher, Mrs. Smith, admonished.

Antoinette smiled, putting the child at ease, and raising her hand to silence the teacher.

“Well you see, Years ago, I was playing with something I shouldn’t have, and that’s how I got this way” Antoinette explained.

 

The Question was one she had gotten used to over the years. Along the right side of Antoinette’s body was the scars of combat, however the most noticeable injury was on her face. Along the bridge of her nose and extending down her right cheek was the scar that by all rights should have killed her.

She had more than enough practice to tell the lie to explain her injuries to people. As far as her husband, coworkers and friends knew, Emelia Hall had suffered a catastrophic car accident at a young age which took both her parents and left her scarred. It was uncomfortable enough of a story that it rarely garnered any follow up questions.

In Truth, The scars and burns had been from her last day in the Erusean military.

 

***

They had been on the run for two years. Ever since the Independent States Allied Force’s had rolled into Farbanti with impunity, Antoinette and her men had been on the run. In the early days she had hope for the Insurgency, The promise that the Free Eruseans would expel the invaders and restore their once great and feared republic. With the fall of Megalith, and the deaths of the Free Erusean leadership, those hopes had been squashed.

The UAZ bounced down the road towards the ‘Airfield’. It was a generous term for a small wooded area that had a small helipad cleared and had been home for the past few weeks.

Antoinette was exhausted, Over half of her men had surrendered to the ISAF forces nearby, She had to sell off nearly all of her gunships to the thugs in Chopinburg and was now running once again along the wooded hills of Bulgurdarest to run once again. Just then, the first vehicle in their convoy exploded, the shockwave shattered the windshield, sending shards flying all over Antoinette, stunning her. Through the ringing in her ears she could hear the quit rapport of Anti-aircraft guns firing in the distance

The next thing Antoinette knew, the ground was exploding around them.


Antoinette woke up in a daze, She looked around, black smoke belched from the vehicles in the convoy, she could make out the shattered remains of some of her men who had been able to exit their vehicles, She unsteadily got to her feet, She felt cold. Nothing made sense to her. She just hurt.

She walked along the dirt path towards the airstrip. Antoinette wasn’t sure if her eardrums had ruptured or if it had been that quiet.

She wasn’t sure how long she had stumbled for before arriving at the airfield. She was greeted with the sights of destruction, Fires burned out of control where her once proud gunships sat parked, a large crater occupied the center of the camp.

She felt the world crumbling around her, by the time the ISAF soldiers took her into custody, she felt nothing at all.

***

Antoinette was lost in the memory, It was one she had relived time and time again. The pain, the loss, it was all still fresh in her mind. She prayed none of her children would suffer like she had.

Lauren, satisfied with the answer provided, ran off to tell a small group of children around the playground her findings.

“Doesn’t it ever get annoying?” Mrs. Smith asked.

“What do you mean?” Antoinette asked, standing up and dusting off her slacks. She took a slight satisfaction of seeing the disapproving look her much older coworker had shown. Mud and dirt never bothered Antoinette, she liked to think that made her a better teacher.

“Well I mean, you get asked that question every year, I have to imagine it gets annoying after a while” Smith elaborated.

“Why would it, we should encourage children to be inquisitive” Antoinette scolded.

Putting the end to their conversation, Antoinette Bradley, who her Family knew as ‘Emelia Hall’, watched the children play.

***

A sharp kick to the side jolted Adams awake, he had dozed off on a couch reading the dossier on their target.

“Adams, did you finally read that report?” Lieutenant Fick asked, staring at the younger non-commissioned officer with his arms folded.

“Sure, did Lieutenant” Adams said groggily.

“so, who is he?”

“Uhh… a Belkan?” Adams said half heartedly

“Sergeant I gave you a direct order to make your self aware of the target. Why the fuck did you not?” Fick hissed

“Well honestly Lieutenant, Never really cared enough about the previous targets and I still eliminated them” Adams explained.

Fick shook his head in disgust

“MORGAN!” He bellowed “You better get Adams up to speed before I have his ass dropped from the teams. I don’t care what his tally is, this shit doesn’t fly” Fick said, jabbing a finger into the confused Gunnery Sergeants chest.

“Aye aye Sir” Morgan responded

“So, Greg who is it anyways?”

“Well since you apparently live up to your title and cant read, What do you know about the San Marco Massacre?” Morgan said

“Jack and shit, what of it? That a Belkan thing or?” Adams said

Morgan walked behind Adams and smacked the back of his head

“Open the damn folder and you might learn something dumbass” Morgan barked

Adams studied the picture provided, it was of a young woman in a distinct military uniform, Adams was struck by her beauty. Her dark hair was pulled into a bun, and she was adorn with dozens of medals and commendations.

“Her name is Lieutenant Colonel Antoinette Bradley. If our intel from the Broker is right she now goes by the name of Emelia Hall.”

“Damn, how old was she in this picture?” Adams asked

“2004, just after she took command of the Erusean Air Force 28^th Helicopter Squadron. She’s twenty-two in that picture” Morgan explained

“Jesus Christ, And I thought I had a fast track career” Adams muttered

“She was a military protégée, went through the Academy at fifteen, commissioned at eighteen, and had her first war crime at twenty-two. Fast burner in the military you could say” Morgan said bemused.

“Fuck, what happened at San Marco then?”

“Well, Lieutenant Colonel Bradley here was the Squadron commander of the Erusean Air Force’s 28^th Helicopter Squadron. Back in 2004, under her orders, the twenty Hind gunships of the 28^th went in and opened fire on a civilian religious gathering. Almost seven hundred people were gunned down that day under her orders” Morgan said flatly

“Fuck, and I thought the Belkans were bad” Adams muttered.

“What happened next is a bit of a question, we know her unit went off the radar right before the Republic collapsed. Intel believe she was going to take her unit to Megalith unit some ISAF unit took it out. From there, no one really knows. We know she was spotted with multiple Free Erusean cells on and off until 2007, but after that she went entirely underground.”

“Any idea how she ended up here?”

“That’s the trick, aint it? Well you see that Hind we got chased by back in Usea a month or so back?” Morgan asked

“Yeah, until that fly-boy from the Gunther squadron took it out, I remember”

“Well we had OIA do some digging. Of course they came up with nothing but our information broker found something. The old Republic of Erusean military was the only power that ever adopted the Hind for any major work, and the numbers on our particular aggressor were not on any official registration of captured equipment from the last war-“ Morgan explained sitting down in a chair across the room from Adams

“- So then we figured out it was actually being operated by the Saipanish Cartel in the region” He finished

“How does this play out with her then?” Adams asked

“It was one of her Hinds. The Broker got some more information, found a guy named Sergio Borisov. Henderson’s team paid him a visit and he spilled the beans. After some ISAF airstrike took out most of Bradley’s unit, she made her way to Borisov who was well known in the Free Erusean movement for getting people out of the continent. He set her up in Emmeria under the assumed name of Emelia Hall and gave her all the documents to start a new life here, unbeknownst to any Emmerians”

“I see. What she up to now?”

“School Teacher. Has a Husband and two children, Zhao should be making contact with her today to confirm its her.”

“Wont that tip her off?” Adams asked

“Probably not, He’s pretty good at the trade craft thing now.” Morgan re-assured him.

***
The sound of rollers along a linoleum floor distracted Antoinette from her grading. She looked at the clock

4:00 PM

“Almost time to go home” she muttered to herself.

There was a knock at the door of the classroom, a second later the schools new janitor walked in to collect the garbage.

“Evening Miss Hall” The janitor grunted out. Antoinette studied the man for a second, something just seemed familiar about him. She couldn’t directly place it.

As the man threw the small plastic bins contents into the much larger garbage bin Antoinette watched him. Mister Nagase had only joined the schools staff a few weeks prior. If Antoinette had to guess, she would say he was in his Late thirties’ early forties, with dark hair that was unkempt starting to grey, tanned skin and an average build. He also seemed off to Antoinette.

“Mister Nagase, do you mind if I asked you a personal question?” She asked

“Shoot” He grunted in response

“What did you do before you were a janitor?”

He didn’t look up from his task, but Antoinette noted the pause as he chose his words.

“Odd jobs, Why?” He replied with a gravelly voice.

“Oh no reason, Just wondering if we worked together at some point” She replied nonchalantly.

He was of an Asian descent, and didn’t sound Erusean, in fact his accent was so neutral it seemed to lack any distinct dialect at all.

“Did you happen to serve in the military?” She probed.

He nodded, a slight grin on his face

“Third Battalion, Crnero Regiment” he replied wiping his hands on the chest of his blue coveralls

Oh good an Emmerian she thought to herself.

“If your asking, I imagine you must have been too?” he asked, studying the much smaller woman.

She smiled, though the question and his gaze bothered her.

“Oh no, nothing like that!” She dismissed, “But why do you ask?” She implored

“The Scars. Look similar to the one’s the Stovies gave my buddies a few years back” He explained, “Figured its reasonable that you must of gotten them the same way” he concluded.

She could feel her heart starting to race, She had been on combat missions in thunderstorms and had felt less in danger than she did now.

“Oh nothing that exciting, really” She said, trying to suppress the stress from showing in her voice.

Nagase nodded

“Excuse me for asking then,” he said apologetically.
***
Morgan stared at the monitors of the safehouses Security system. From every angle he could see the comings and goings around the small three-bedroom family home the Oseans had taken as their base of operations in Emmeria.

On the Garage camera, he could see their Lieutenant and Dennings unloading duffel bags and hardcases from the back of a suburban, On the backyard camera he could see Adams grilling steaks and smoking a cigarette, and on a third monitor, he could see a map of Gracemeria with multiple GPS tracker locations.

It had been a busy afternoon, Morgan had gone back to the school and planted a tracker on the targets vehicle, he wasn’t sure if it would help but their logic had always been ‘More details cant hurt’. Dennings had called in every arms dealer the OIA could find them and Archer had done more location scouting for their mission.

A sharp whistle caught Morgan’s attention.

“Alright, start unpacking this shit” The Lieutenant ordered.

Morgan grabbed a gun case, Unzipping it revealed an old bolt-action rifle, the smell of cosmoline was almost incapacitating. He threw the rifle to Adams.

“What the fuck is this? Am I supposed to defend the Hot Gates against the Belkan Fifth Panzer?” Adams asked rhetorically,

“Cool it, don’t strain the metaphor” The Lieutenant chuckled.

“Dude, a Mosin Nagant has been the snipers choice for nearly a century, Plus, it was the only rifle I could find, so deal with it” Dennings shot back.

The operators continued to unpack the contents of the bags until the deadbolt unlocking on the door caught their undivided attention.

A Moment later, a tired looking Asian man in a blue coveralls stumbled in.

“Honey I’m Home” he shouted wearily.

 

“Good day at work I trust Zhao?” The Lieutenant asked, returning to the task at hand.

Morgan studied Staff Sergeant Tom Zhao’s new uniform, The Coveralls were covered in grime and dirt, a white nametag was sewn to the breast that read NAGASE in fancy script.

“I cant see how kids can make that much of a mess. I’ve seen buildings hit with JDAMs that looked better” Zhao sighed defeated.

“Did you make Contact with the Target?” Lieutenant Fick asked.

“Yessir, She even has a pattern, but-“ Zhao paused

“But what?” Morgan asked annoyed

“-But she might be onto me” Zhao finished.

“What makes you say that?” Adams asked

“She recognized I’m a Marine for one” Zhao said.

“did she say that?” Denning asked worried

“No, But she guessed I was military,” Zhao said.

Fick thought for a moment.

“You come up with a decent cover story?”

“Yep, Made up some shit about being in the Army, should be good enough”

“What did you get on the target?” Morgan piped up.

Zhao produced a wad of papers from his pocket.

“Personnel record from the school, Map layout of the grounds and the teacher monitor schedule for good measure” Zhao reported.

 

Fick took the papers and put the map of the school on the table before them.

“So whats the plan?” Dennings asked.

Fick studied the documents for a moment before replying. “First mission is a go, Looks like next time she will be a recess monitor will be the end of the week. Adams, you think you can get that rifle zeroed in time?”

“Yeah, shouldn’t be too much of a problem” Adams replied.

“So we’re gonna shoot and scoot, What happens if that goes tits up” Morgan asked.

Dennings reached into the duffel bags and produced two AK-74 rifles.

“Then we go to this” He said pridefully.

“Fuck me, you talk about rushing the school?” Zhao said shocked.

“If we need to, its an option” Fick replied flatly.

“Your asking for a blood bath in that case.” Zhao muttered

Fick shot a glare towards the Sergeant.

“We do what we have to, to accomplish the mission. We’re all professionals and I trust you all can Identify a non-combatant even in an environment like this.” Fick said, letting the words hang in the air.

 

It was a familiar argument, one many of the senior members of the team had heard time and again.

 

“Alright then, lets get to work” Morgan said coolly

Chapter 5

FIVE

The two officers sat in the SCIF room, reading the days intelligence reports in front of them.

“Looks like we had another one” the junior officer, a captain, reported, still reading his report

“Where at?” the more senior Officer, a Lieutenant Colonel asked

“About forty miles east of Selatapura Harbor. One possible shoot down.”

“Ours or theirs?”

“Looks to be ours. AWACS had a picture clean, but the Tomcat’s radar begged to differ. Next thing they knew he went NORDO, and then dropped off radar, Data Link and everything went dead so we only have the primary tracks.” The younger officer reported.

“Mancuso’s just going to love this…” the Colonel muttered.

 

The two men continued to read in silence.

“Whats that make it… eight instances these past few months?” the Colonel asked.

“Yep, all within spitting distance of the Chopinburg region”

The Colonel threw down the file he was reading from “What are they doing there? I thought the Old Man said that they had a handle on it?”

 

“They got sidetracked.” the Captain admitted.

“With what?”

“A Priority one tasking. That helo that was chasing them into Hatties a few days back? They linked it to a Yuke smuggler, Sergio Anatoly. Apparently back in the last war, he had a hand in getting a bunch of those war criminals out of Usea.” the Captain explained with a smirk.

“Im betting they picked him up, and from that look he probably sang like a songbird?”

“You know it. So, the Old man has them inserting into Emmeria next week to go bag the bitch” the Captain said.

“Who is it?” the senior man asked.

“Butcher of San Marco”

“Fuck, I thought we got her already” The Colonel admitted.

“She was detained back in oh-six by ISAF, but thanks to our brand-new best friend Sergio, she escaped. Intel’s good and it looks like she’s there”

The two men sat back.

“Might be worth it. Hope this anomaly doesn’t kill the entire Air Force in the meantime” the Colonel said absently.

“So how goes Agent Palmer and his lapdog Baxter’s crusade against Der Gesichtslose Soldat?” The Colonel asked

“Who knows, they were at Selatapura the other day sniffing out leads. But nothing credible yet”

“Seems to be a lot going on down there these days”

“Yeah. Probably because the Elevator if I had to guess. But that entire area has been a hot bed since the sixties. I think the region must get passed around more than some of those girls I knew in college” the Captain mused

“And you ask why your still single.” The Colonel chided, raising an eyebrow at the comment.

“Whatever, I’m married to my job, remember?” The Captain defended himself.

The Colonel shook his head and let out a ragged breath. “Captain I really wonder why the hell they even keep you around-“ he began

“-I like to think its my Boyish good looks and charm” the Captain interrupted, causing the Colonel to pause

“Like I said, I don’t know why they bothered to keep you around. Personally, I think we should have just shot your ass and saved us the effort”

The Captain swung out his left leg and pulled his slacks leg up, exposing the prosthetic limb

“I don’t recommend it” the Captain said cheekily

“You’re such a pussy, Come talk to me when its an arm and a few organs” The Colonel shot back.

“Fine old man, you win. Now let’s get the rest of this done so The Old Man doesn’t have Stanton chew our asses”

“Your ass, Captain. Stanton can’t do shit to me” The Colonel said grinning

“Fine then, be like that” the Captain groaned.

Chapter 4

 FOUR

The evening was cool, the sun was just starting to set, making the marble of the obelisk in the center of the park almost glow. The mid-afternoon rainstorms had subsided leaving a glossy look to all the buildings.

Trigger hated it.

The location Avril had provided him lead him to a park just outside of the financial district of Selatapura, next to a university campus.

Trigger wasn’t too sure what to expect, His entire day just had felt off, It felt like it had been years since Trigger had any down time to do anything, even on his days off in the weeks previous he would generally spend in his room reading or working out, only leaving the Airbase once to a local convenience store the ODF personnel frequented. Never one for fashion, Trigger spent his morning clothes shopping, resulting in his current attire of Jeans, a T-shirt and his leather A2 jacket.

Trigger looked down at his watch,

1723

The military officer in him made him habitually early to everything, but realizing he had time, and taking in the nice cool evening, Trigger found a park bench and decided to people watch.

He was surprised on how normal everything felt. Not two months ago, there was fighter jets dueling in the skies above, while tanks and armored personnel carriers ruled the streets. Now people went about their day as if nothing happened.

Usea had been no stranger to conflict, from the insurrections in 1995, the coup d’état in 1998 or the Continental War after the Ulysses planetfall, the people knew war all to well. Trigger supposed that is what made them so easily adaptable to returning to their pre-war lives. He chuckled at the thought

“For us, the day we came as liberators was the most important time of our lives. For them it was Tuesday” Trigger said to himself.

He watched as rowdy college students made their way out of lecture halls, and businessmen in their suits and briefcases moved like a herd towards the parking structures around the plaza. Had it not been for the Space Elevator dominating the skyline, Trigger could have sworn it could be any major city in Osea.

 

“Wow, I didn’t actually believe her when she said you’d be here this early” a voice behind him spoke

Startled, Trigger jumped up and hovered his hand above his hip, the A2 not only provided the practical use as a warm garment, it also aided in concealing the Glock 26 subcompact handgun that Trigger was concealing. One of the two concessions he had to make for going out by himself.

It took him a moment to recognize the girl in front of him. Trigger wasn’t sure what exactly he expected, she was wearing a hoodie, sunglasses and capris jeans, She looked like she could have blended in seamlessly with any of the sorority girls milling around the park.

“Cossette” he said,  

“The one and only” She said, walking to Trigger and giving him a hug, Trigger taken aback awkwardly patted her on the back in response, still not convinced he wasn’t walking into a trap.

 

“So, Im glad Avril actually found you, I am not going to lie and say I wasn’t hurt that you didn’t leave a number or anything to call you by!” Cossette said playfully.

“Well, I actually don’t have a cellphone, And I cant really have you calling the base” Trigger awkwardly responded.

The answer made her giggle.

“So, shall we go?” she asked

“Uh, Yeah. Where too?”

“Dunno, we could go walk around the shopping district if you would like?”

“Sure? Lead the way?” Trigger stammered, offering Cossette his arm.

 

Though he had seen the City plenty of times from the cockpit, Trigger was still next to useless knowing where anything was in the city, compounded with the fact he couldn’t read most of the signage lead to him being at Cossette’s mercy as they walked their way to one of the shopping plaza’s

 

“So, Trigger, is this the first time you’ve been to Selatapura?” Cossette asked as they walked.

“Not exactly, I was here once before but didn’t stay too long” Trigger explained,

he wasn’t exactly lying, but he had only been in Selatapuran airspace all of forty-three minutes from start to finish, most of the time was spent acting as SEAD and then air escort. For his trouble he had found himself a new home in Zapland.

 

“I see, My Parents took me here a few times before the IUN took Selatapura over, its really improved over the past few years!” Cossette explained, Trigger noted a slight hint of sadness in her voice.

“Yeah, I wanted to see the Space Elevator back when I was a student, but evidently I haven’t made the time. Now if I’m being entirely honest, I don’t think I want anything to do with it!” Trigger said with a sigh.

the couple continued their walk arm in arm for a time in silence, taking in the sunset.

 

“So, If you don’t mind my asking, what exactly do you do now?” Trigger spoke up.

“Thankfully I have many advisors who have been able to handle the day to day, I was busy with the refugee camp but even that has been taken care of now. So, most of my day is just trying to act as a manager more than a ruler.” Cossette said

“So, what were you doing before all of this started Trigger?” Cossette asked,

“Not much to be entirely honest, I was assigned to a base that was known more for its surfing than any combat related stuff” Trigger replied, remembering the seven weeks he was assigned to Fort Grays. He had arrived the second to last week in April and was shipped off to Oured for a kangaroo court-martial the first week of June.

It had been nice while it lasted.

“I see, Sorry I guess you can’t share a whole lot, can you?” Cossette replied sheepishly

“Don’t worry about it. Honestly if we can talk about anything other than my flying that would be great” Trigger reassured her.  

The two had arrived to the entrance of the district, Trigger was taken aback with how quaint it seemed, in spite of the large glass windows advertising each shops specialty, the red tiled roofs and rustic motif along one of the many rivers that went through the city gave the entire place a cozy feel.

As Trigger and Rosa walked through the many shops, Trigger noticed he was actually at ease with the situation. He wasn’t the feared fighter pilot, and Cossette wasn’t the leader of a country, they were just a young couple on, an albeit awkward, second date.

 

As the night progressed, the two stopped at a café to get dinner. As they sat and ate Trigger could hear a dull roar as a thunderstorm rolled in onto the coast off from the sea.

 

“Looks like they’re gonna get some IFR practice in tonight” Trigger quipped

“What’s that?” Cossette asked, looking up from her plate

“Ah, Sorry, pilot thing, just noticing the weather coming in. Figured any pilots flying tonight are going to have to rely on their instruments to get home”

“nerd” Cossette teased.

“Eh, Sue me. I didn’t ask for any of this” Trigger grumbled

“Oh, So your not happy with this?” Trigger asked pointedly.

 

Trigger realized his faux paus and stopped himself for a moment. It was true that his life over the past six months had been something he wasn’t expecting, the defeats as a Mage, the hell that was Spare Squadron and the all-or-nothing missions of the LRSSG, He had done more in that brief time than what most did in an entire career.

“You know what. After everything has been said and done? I’m not sure what I would have done differently. So, I guess Its not that bad in the end.” Trigger admitted, much to Cossette’s satisfaction.  

Trigger and Cossette finished their meals and continued their stroll through the district.

 

“So, I guess if we want to do this again, we need a better way of communicating right?” Trigger asked

“Wow, someone is bold today” Cossette chided playfully

“I’m a fighter pilot, comes with the territory” Trigger quipped

 

Cossette laughed softly and took his hand, leaned up and gave him a kiss on the cheek, taking Trigger by surprise.

“Yeah, I would like that” she whispered softly in his ear.

 

“Guess we got to figure out a way to keep it secret thought… I’m not too sure how enthused my superiors will be to find out I’m in a relationship with you” Trigger said running his hand over his hair.

“I do have a burner phone I use; we could just get you an actual phone and use a fake name?” Cossette recommended.

Trigger thought about it for a moment

“Actually, that might work. Is there a cellphone store here?” Trigger asked

“Is there a Cellphone store around here? Look around Trigger” Cossette responded sarcastically, motioning to the multiple electronics stores along the river-side.

“Ah, fair point” he replied sheepishly, causing Cossette to grin and give him another kiss.

***
Minutes later Trigger was out some money but now had a brand-new smart phone. He wondered what ever became of his old one since none of his personal effects had reached him yet, But at least for the time being he had a way to contact Cossette.
 
“So, What should I put your name in as?” Trigger asked, punching in Cossette’s contact info.

Cossette thought for a moment

“Why not Elizabeth?” She mused

“Ok, any particular reason?” He asked, typing in the name

“Well its not like we can use my actual name, or my original pseudonym I went to school under, Elizabeth seems innocuous enough” Cossette rationalized.

“Fair enough. Huh, kind of feels like I’m in high school again” Trigger noted sarcastically.

“How long has that been Trigger?” Cossette questioned

Trigger thought a moment, making sure to count on his fingers.

“Five years? Let’s see, I graduated at seventeen, took four years of college, another year of flight school, and I am about to turn twenty-three. So, around five-ish years?” Trigger described.

“Cradle robber” Cossette teased.

“Hey, you’re the one who hit on me!” Trigger defended himself

 

The wind had started to pick up and the weather was starting to turn sour, Trigger could feel some water hitting him as he noticed the storm had grown closer.

Just then, his Pager went off.

The second concession he had to make going out alone was that the Base Operations department issued him a pager, generally to remind him that he wasn’t authorized to stay off base and to return for final muster. He checked his watch

2116

He furrowed his brow reading the message,

“What’s wrong?” Cossette asked concerned.

“Don’t know, just a mass recall notice. I guess I have to cut this short again” He said disappointed.

“Well you do have a job to do, just make sure you actually call me again.” Cossette said in jest, kissing Trigger again.

“Of course, I’m sure its just because of the rain” He reassured her, giving her a hug.

 

He had seen the message before; He was sure it wasn’t because of the storm.

***

Trigger made his way to the location his Pager had directed him to. Waiting to greet him was a handful of armed Security Forces and the other Osean personnel who had the Friday off and received the same notice.

“So, any guess what this is about?” Said a man who walked up next to Trigger, looking over Trigger recognized him as a C-17 Pilot with the callsign of ‘SMIR’, though no one could quite figure out what that meant.

“Don’t know, I got the same recall you did” Trigger replied.

The Lieutenant in charge of the Security Forces quickly read off the list of names and confirming that all personnel were present and accounted for, directed them into a set of Vans for the ride back into the base.

The ride was silent the way back, Trigger noticed the rainstorm getting progressively worse as they got closer to the base.

The storm had let up just as the vans were pulling into the Base, where they were greeted by more armed Security Forces Airmen. Once they departed, the Pilots were directed to go to their bar and wait for further instructions. As Trigger noticed that multiple aircraft were absent on the ramp as he made his way across.

Trigger could see one of the Air Battle Managers, Sky Catcher standing outside of the squadron’s bar. He had only met her a handful of times, only nearing middle age the thirty-eight-year old’s once brunette hair had turned prematurely grey. She looked up at the Trigger and SMIR, Trigger noticed her eyes were bloodshot. She held out a plastic box and directed the two pilots to put their phones inside.

“Any Idea what happened?” SMIR asked

“There was a mishap, The Colonel will brief you all once everyone is here” She replied tersely

 

Trigger took a seat at the bar and watched the Door. He watched more pilots file in, keeping account of who in the LRSSG was missing.

He had found Tailor, Skald, Huxian and Lanza quickly, but noticed Count was still absent. Huxian had been the last LRSSG pilot to return, still wearing her survival gear.

“Hey what the hell happened? Where’s Count?” Trigger walked up to her and asked.

“Im… not allowed to say much. Last I heard he’s still up there with the others.” Huxian said choking back tears.

There was a collective murmur as less and less pilots filed in.

An hour and a half after he arrived, Trigger saw Count walk in with Long Caster, both men looked exhausted. By his count only three pilots were missing, Twister, Mover and Fencer.

Count looked dazed as he slouched into one of the couches.

“Hey, what the hell is going on?” Trigger asked concerned.

Count didn’t respond, staring off in a trance.

A moment later someone called the room to attention, and the Base’s Colonel walked in.

 

Trigger could see on the Colonel’s face a pained expression. Someone had set up a step stool so the diminutive man could stand above everyone in the room and be seen by everyone.

the room fell silent as they waited for him to start.

The Colonel cleared his throat

“As many of you know, we had an incident at Twenty-one-thirty hours tonight. We can’t go into all the details but what I can share is that Major Valencia’s Tomcat was the aircraft. Search and Rescue has been dispatched and we can confirm now this is a recovery operation. Next of kin is also being notified but until that occurs, we need you all to stay here.”

The words hung in the air. Trigger felt a pit in his stomach form hearing the words ‘recovery operation’ followed by ‘next of kin’.

“What the fuck happened?” A pilot near the back of the room asked.

The Colonel eyed through the room before giving up on who asked, It was a question on everyone’s mind, and would be the subject of a board later on.

The Colonel Sighed. “We will need to wait for the board to convene. No use in speculating right now” he answered.

 

Trigger was still reeling with the news. He had been no stranger to death. During the war, outside of a handful of pilots, he had lost count of how many people he had flown with who had been killed in combat or in accidents. Even in flight-training at Heirlark there were fatalities. Aviation was dangerous and everyone knew the risk, it was the mantra he would repeat to himself every time he saw an accident report.

He found very little comfort in those words now.

 

He found an unoccupied couch and slumped into it. Off in a corner he could see the Salamander Squadron members discussing the news amongst themselves. The collective daze was broken by the dull roar overhead. Trigger walked out and saw the navigation lights of what he assumed to be a DC-10 pass by.

“They’re a slurry bomber” a somber voice said behind him. Turning around Trigger could see it was Long Caster. “We called them in when we got confirmation about the crash site. There was already a small enough fire that started, thankfully most of the area was pretty damp already so it should be extinguished by the morning.”.

***
Trigger woke to a consistent beeping next to him, rolling over he found the offending object to be his wrist watch’s alarm that he set hours prior. It took his bleary eyes a moment to adjust before he could read the blue LCD display.

0830

0830

His mental fog and exhaustion made it take him longer then usual to mentally calculate exactly how little sleep he had gotten. Sliding out of bed Trigger found a rumpled, but still clean pair of ABU pants and his belt throwing both over his shoulder, his next stop in his room was to the coffee maker, quickly finding a bag of instant coffee he tore the top off and poured it into the machine and hit the ON button.

Continuing his morning routine, he made his way to the shower, hoping that it would be enough to bring him back to an alert state.

At least we get to stay in private rooms this time Trigger thought to himself.

The Oseans upon taking the Selatapura Airport as their base of operations, consequently captured one of the hotels that had surrounded the airport as its residential building, while some troops stayed on the airbase in makeshift barracks, all the remaining Pilots and remaining administrative staff were assigned rooms in the hotel dubbed by its guests as ‘Casa Del Oured’.

Trigger finished his morning shower feeling somewhat better and finished getting dressed in his Airman Battle Uniform. Pouring the coffee into a mug, he noticed his Cellphone had a notification on it.

He smiled when he opened it, seeing it was a ‘Good morning’ from Cossette. He quickly shot back a reply and sighed, starting to second guess himself on if the wording was bad or not.

Really how hard is it to misconstrue ‘good morning’? He thought to himself as he made his way out of the room.

 

By the time Trigger reached his office, he saw his phone had another notification.

Is everything OK?

He thought about his response before typing.  Will tell you if I can later.

The aircrews had been released once Twister’s family was notified. Trigger pushed the thought of how they were doing out of his head, it was just too painful for him. Instead he dwelled on if he even could tell Cossette what had happened.

He sighed in defeat at the ramifications his newfound relationship was starting to uncover.

Trigger got into his office later than he usually did. The generally chaotic atmosphere of the hangar was noticeably subdued today. By now the news had spread, No one knew what happened, but the theories were at every water cooler and shop.

Trigger paused when he passed Twister’s office. It still doesn’t feel real yet. he thought shaking his head.

 

Opening the door to his office, Trigger was startled to see the bases Colonel sitting behind his desk

“Oh Sir, good Morning!” Trigger stammered.

The Colonel smiled sadly and waived his hand, standing up out of the chair.

“No need for that Trigger, I’m the intruder here. Just shut the door behind you.”

Trigger did as instructed and the Colonel motioned to an empty chair, sitting back down behind Trigger’s desk.

“Take a seat Trigger, we have a fair bit to discuss and I don’t really care for the formalities at this time” The Colonel continued, waiting for Trigger to take a seat, the Colonel took a moment to study the pilot.

“Trigger, do you know how many pilots we have at this base currently?” He asked.

Trigger thought a moment, before responding.

“Sir, currently we have three assigned to the 124^th, another four in the 122^nd, the crews of the two supporting AWACS and another Twenty-two pilots in the mixed Salamander Squadron.” Trigger responded. The Colonel nodded satisfied with the answer.

“As you know, evidently I am short staffed with field grade officers at the moment. On top of losing a good pilot and a good man, I am also now short an acting Group commander of the Airwing you just described.” The Colonel explained. “I’ve read your file Trigger, and despite all the black ink there is one thing that it seems to point to, you seem to have this aura about you that people just follow you into hell itself. What that phrase the Pilots were throwing around ‘Stick with Trigger and you’ll make it’?”.

Trigger nodded in slight embarrassment. It was a phrase that had been coined while he was assigned to the Spare squadron, that still followed him after his incarceration. Though he wouldn’t admit it, Trigger secretly hated that his Squadron used it. To him, it was just extra responsibility if someone were to follow him, it almost killed Count on their suicidal run under the Elevator, something he was furious about until Count reported his survival.

“So Trigger, what I’m trying to get at here is, your uniform is unfitting of your rank” The Colonel said in jest, motioning Trigger to stand at attention, he walked over and pulled out a pocket knife, removing the sewn on ranks on Triggers collar, he stepped back.

“I need a new Group Commander, and I’m picking you for that slot. As of now, you have been promoted to Major, and will report directly to me. You will probably need these.” He explained, pulling out of his pocket and tossing across the desk two metal ranks. Trigger looked at them for a second, realizing that they were those of a Major.

“Sir, what happens to my squadron?” Trigger asked.

“Well, it was never yours to begin with. That being said, I am planning on having Count be Strider’s new number one, I trust you to balance the rest out.” The Colonel chastised, standing up and walking to the door. “Until someone with more tin on my uniform says otherwise, or you die, consider yourself the newest Field Grade in the air force. Congratulations Major.” He said, before walking out of the room.