Chapter 19

 NINETEEN

Trigger watched the Erusean F-16s taxi into their shelters from Colonel Andre’s Office. It was the second time in a week that Trigger had been to Farbanti Air Base, He could see the C-1 that they arrived in was still parked on the ramp awaiting orders.

Colonel Andres sat behind his desk diligently working on his computer. Trigger could feel the annoyance in the air as the two men stood in silence.

According to the little the Colonel revealed to Trigger, this had been Andre’s office even before the war. Trigger was silently taken aback at how barren the room was. Save for the cheap carpet and furniture, the walls were painted in a faded blue color, however unlike most personal offices of senior staff members, his lacked any decorations. No awards, Family photos, war photos or even a picture of his plane adorned the walls.

 

How boring. Trigger thought.

 

Trigger cleared his throat. “So, Colonel, has Farbanti Air Base always been this busy?”

“Classified” Andres grunted.

So much for that idea.

“I was told you were a Pilot. Mind if I ask which aircraft.”

“Tomcats” Andres said again.

Getting somewhere.

“Oh, Mind if I ask which model? I had a friend who was a Tomcat pilot.” Trigger inquired

Andres glared at Trigger, then turned his attention back to his computer.

Or maybe not

 

Trigger turned his attention back to the ramp. He could see a sizeable force gathered around the Base. However, what caught his eye was the predominant makeup of the force.

Most of the F-16’s he saw were painted in a two-tone brown and dark green color, while a small handful were in the standard three tone brown, green and tan livery for the EAF. As well, He could see a sizable force of F-5 Tiger II air-superiority fighters in three tone brown camouflage.

“Correct me if I’m wrong Colonel, but I thought the Erusean Air Force retired the F-5 already.” Trigger asked.

Andres snorted and ignored the question.

“Colonel, if its alright with you, may I talk to some of your pilots at the base here?” Trigger asked.

“Fine. Stick to the common areas and don’t get in the way.” Andres said dismissively.

Taking his leave, Trigger walked down to the ramp from the office. He could see the Viper pilots who had just returned huddled together smoking. Despite being from a different country, Trigger was surprised with how close their uniforms were to Osea’s. Instead of the olive drab their flight suits were a darker blue, but all the gear looked remarkably similar, including same HGU-55 helmet he wore.

Trigger walked over and held up his hand to introduce himself.

“Bon jour!” Trigger said confidently, the words not quite forming correctly. Damn it! I knew I should have paid more attention to Cossette’s language classes Trigger thought as he saw the Erusean pilots start to snicker.

The lead Pilot held his hand up to settle down his compatriots. “Ah, you must be the Osean given free reign here, is that correct?” He asked, his common held no accent and was remarkably close to Cossette’s.

“That would be me.” Trigger replied shrugging holding out his hand to shake.

The head Erusean Pilot took it and pulled Trigger closer grinning. “Well, unlike these bunch of dick bags, I’ll at least stick to the same language, so you don’t butcher mine.”

Trigger nodded sheepishly “Sorry, never really was good at languages.”

“Not a problem Major. The names Captain Josh Esparza, but most people call me Asher.” The pilot introduced himself.

He was a darker Hispanic man with striking features, slightly taller than Trigger in height and, by Trigger’s guess, he was in his late twenties or early thirties.

“What’s the story behind ‘Asher’?” Trigger asked.

The other Erusean pilots gave each other glances before breaking into a fit of snickering again.

Asher rolled his eyes. “Well you see. Turns out when you accidentally drop a blue body on short final which causes the hill to erupt in flames. You tend to get a name that sticks. Not my fault that Indoc is in the driest part of the country and the concrete bomb just happened to create a wildfire that almost burned the base down.” He explained.

Trigger laughed at the story. “Well, at least you didn’t accidentally fire the gun in closed formation when trying to hit your transmit button.”

“Ah, Hence the name ‘Trigger’ I take it?” Asher asked, raising an eyebrow.

Trigger nodded. “Yep. Stuck with me ever since.”

“Well then your alright by my books Trigger. Any reason you decided to come down here with all us low life Viper pilots? I thought you and Pépé would be buddy-buddy coming from similar airframes and all?” Asher asked.

Trigger shrugged. “Yeah, Colonel Andres isn’t really my biggest fan. Don’t know why. That seems to be a running theme this week.”

Asher slapped Trigger on the back. “Don’t take it too hard. Pépé Is kind of a dick to everyone.”

Trigger changed the subject. “So, I have to ask. Most of these F-16’s isn’t the recent blocks are they?”

Asher and the other pilots gave an impressed look. “Surprising coming from the Eagle driver to know so much about our planes. We should feel honored.”

“Not really, my first operational squadron was on the Block 50’s.” Trigger dismissed.

“Ah, explains why you’d notice it then. Yeah we had to dust off a lot of the older Viper-A’s since the end of the war.” Asher noted.

Trigger studied the planes closer, Compared to the later F-16C he was used to, the Erusean F-16A’s had a smaller tail and stabilators, along with the intake being different to accommodate the older Pratt and Whitney F100-PW-200, which also sounded different to Trigger compared to the F110-GE-129.

“So, if I had to guess, your rationing the last of your C models?” Trigger asked

A female pilot nodded “Yes, chefs de vol et” She paused embarrassed. “Flight leaders and night combatants only.” She repeated, her accent was closer to the one’s Trigger had heard from the Volsagian Air Force’s pilots, the words seemed awkward for her to say.

Asher nodded in confirmation. “Yep, brand new Air Force for a brand-new country. Stuck flying the equipment our fathers and grandfathers flew to keep our skies secure.”

An uncomfortable silence fell over the group before Asher clapped his hands. “Laissez-moi montrer l'Osean. Vous vous préparez tous pour un débriefing dans une heure!” He barked to the gathered pilots.

Trigger watched them shout “Oui capitan” in response before falling out and dispersing.

“Well Major, if you will allow me to show you around our humble little airplane?” Asher asked, motioning for Trigger to follow him.

“So if I may ask, whats with the accent, or lack thereof?” Trigger asked

Asher laughed “You noticed that? Well I was born and raised in Farbanti. You know how you Osean’s have different accents for the different Regions? Same Idea. Most of us Costal types sound more Osean than those who grew up around Lambert or along the Eastern Border like those hicks you met.”

Trigger nodded, following Asher to one of the parked F-16As. “Which unit is this one with?” Trigger asked

“This one was a part of the 344^th, Bold Tiger Squadron. They were one of the many deactivated with the regime change back in the late aughties. If you want to be technical, they’re currently assigned to my squadron, the 163rd Fighter Squadron.”

“163^rd have a name? I mean all the other Erusean Units I flew with had.”

“Nope. I wanted ‘Farbanti’s Finest’ but that got veto’d by everyone. Can’t win em all.” Asher explained.

Trigger walked around the perimeter of the Fighter. He’d seen the legacy Vipers plenty of times, but they were almost all exclusively either museum pieces or gate guardians. Osea had long since converted their F-16As to target drones.

“How old are these Vipers anyways?” Trigger inquired, studying the intake.

“All Block 10 or earlier in this squadron. Some of the ones being pressed against the Radicals are Block 20 or have gone through the Mid Life Upgrade, so they can do beyond visual range and will be useful to air superiority. Here we just deal with the occasional ground support mission or regular air interdiction. Iron bombs don’t really need the fancy avionics to work.” Asher explained.

 “Did you always fly the Viper?”

“Yeah, I was a part of Ymir Squadron, 148^th Fighter Squadron.” Asher said distantly.

“See a lot of action with Ymir during the war?”

Asher laughed, it was hollow and humorless “I wish, we got stationed at some middle of nowhere Airbase just on the eastern border of San Salvacion. Our Mission was just to make sure the air routes for the supply aircraft stayed open to the few units that were blitzing on the front line. While those Arsenal Birds were up our job was easy, probably ninety nine percent of our sorties ended with no action whatsoever. Then one afternoon, three FCU Tornado’s come screaming through, blow the shit out of our Hangars and runway. Knocked us on our asses before we even figured out, we were under attack. Find out that evening that They hit us while the Arsenal Bird was occupied and destroyed over Stonehenge. Few days later Osean infantry roll up on our doorstep and capture the base and all of us with it. We lost our war before we even had chance to fight it.” He said disgusted.

“At least the pizza was decent. It was nearly impossible to get a good slice in that town by the base.” He quickly added for comedic effect.

The men stood in silence for a brief moment.

“So, Three Strikes, is all the stories they say about you correct?” Asher asked

“Which ones?”

“You know; that you single handedly sank the Njord fleet, and that you don’t actually have blood?”

Trigger raised his eyebrow at the assertion.

“The hell do you mean I ‘don’t have blood’?”

“I dunno, Some of the Rigel and Gram survivors mentioned it. Guess you were doing shit with that Eagle that shouldn’t have been physically possible.” Asher elaborated.

Trigger shook his head, “Man I wish that was the case but no. Im just as flesh and blood as anyone else.”

“You sure? I mean I saw that show on the science fiction channel, you know the one with the robots that looked like humans and blew everyone up?”

“I don’t have the oscillating red eye if that’s what you’re asking about.” Trigger said flatly.

“Eh, whatever you say ‘skin-job’.” Asher muttered.

“What are the other units here for anyways?” Trigger said changing the subject.

Asher thought for a moment.

“Well I can’t say much about the Tigers, since I kinda don’t know or care what their mission is. But the Frogfoots are getting geared up to be deployed for close-air-support against the radicals. Theres a handful of Flankers that have the same air defense mission here.”

“Honestly from the looks of it, your Air Force is the only branch not suffering in the equipment department since you can at least keep the CAP up compared to what the Army’s doing.” Trigger mused.

He noticed Asher turned away, catching a glimpse of a sneer at the comment.

“So, Trigger, care to see anything else? I mean I can’t show you everything but.” Asher asked.

“No thanks captain. I think I’ve seen enough here to get a general idea. Thanks for that.” Trigger replied.

Asher grinned “Anytime Major.” He made an about-face and ran towards the bases operations building.

Trigger slowly made his way back to Colonel Andre’s office.

Walking in, he saw that the Colonel had hardly moved in his absence.

“Major I didn’t hear you request to enter.” Andre growled.  

“Oh, Sorry, figured since-“ Trigger started

“-Enough Major. I will let it slide this time, but you’d be wise to remember I am still a Colonel of a now allied nation to your own and am to be treated as such.” Andre hissed.

Trigger straightened up his posture. “Yes sir.” He said through gritted teeth.

“Did you see anything interesting you’re going to report back to your superiors Major?” Andre asked, taking his eyes off the computer to study Trigger.

“Nothing of note that you already didn’t inform us of, Sir. Capitan Esparza was kind enough to answer the few questions I had.” Trigger said through gritted teeth.

Andre nodded satisfied.

“I thought so. Maybe you can tell Her Royal Highness that as well, just so I don’t have to deal with a pain like you every day.” Andre said dismissively.

Well fuck you too. Trigger thought.

“Is there anything else sir?” Trigger growled.

“That is all Major. I don’t even know why you came here in the first place.” Andre said dismissively.
***

It was nearing late evening by the time Trigger returned to the Palace. Taking a quick shower and changing into his street cloths, blue jeans, a T-shirt and his leather jacket, he walked to Cossette’s room.

Knocking on the door, he could hear her shower running. “Come in!” He could hear her muffled voice say.

It was the first time he had seen her bedroom. It was similar in size to the room he was staying in, with an attached bathroom and closet.

One thing that he took immediate notice of was the change in décor compared to the rest of the Palace. Instead of paintings of important Erusean historical figureheads, Cossette had posters from boy bands, movies and books littering her wall. It reminded him more to the room of a teenage girl instead of that belonging to the heir apparent to the monarchy.

“I am so glad to be off of work finally!” Cossette yelled from the shower.

“Busy day at work?” Trigger shouted back, taking a seat on her bed.

“My god, you wouldn’t believe the shit I have to deal with! I thought Troy was bad, but some of the old guard here!” She complained.

Trigger smirked listening to her.

The shower shut off and he could hear her grabbing a towel and drying off.

Trigger waiting, absent mindedly pulled the Hi-Power from its leather holster and verified that a round was chambered, before returning it under the jacket.

“Are you sure going on a date tonight is a good idea? I mean what if we get recognized?” Trigger asked

“Are you telling me your getting cold feet now all of a sudden?” Cossette countered; her voice still muffled by the closed bathroom door.

“No, I mean, just that it’s your Capital, and I have to imagine you’re pretty recognizable face around here.”

He could hear her footsteps approach the door. “Oh, that won’t be an issue, you know why?” She paused for effect, before quickly throwing the door open “Because I’m wearing a disguise!” she said proudly.

Instead of the formal attire she would normally be seen in public in, she had blue jeans, and a ‘Bana University’ hoodie and her hair tied back in a ponytail. Trigger looked on, trying to keep his bearing with an unamused face.

Cossette pouted “Jeeze, you don’t like it?” She asked.

“Well, I mean, it’s just that we could get away with it in Selatapura, but what about here? I’m not sure how well your country will take it that your dating the enemy.” Trigger said.

“Are you my boyfriend or are you my dad? Come on, what do we have to worry about? We look like any other normal couple.” She reinforced, walking towards, and falling into Trigger, who caught her.

She was close enough that he could smell her shampoo. Damn this is nice.

“Well, if your considering me the latter, I can tell you that you’re not going out dressed as that young lady” Trigger said in a mocking gruff tone. It occurred to him in that moment that he never actually did know what the former King of Erusea sounded like, much less looked like in that moment. He was sure he had seen paintings of him but since everything was written in Erusean, he couldn’t be too sure.

Cossette’s face soured at the mockery. “Wow, is it really that bad? It’s mostly your clothes anyways.” She said.

“I wouldn’t be caught dead on Bana’s Campus; I was a November City man!” Trigger said in a faux defense causing Cossette to roll her eyes.

“You keep changing that story every time you say it.” She noted.

“Hey, you can’t be the only person here with the secrets. Got to keep it interesting somehow.” Trigger said flirtatiously. She stared at him with unamused at the attempt. “Remember you love me for my charm.” He quickly said. “Something like that.” She replied.

Cossette pushed herself up from Trigger’s chest “Come on, we have a reservation we still have to be at.” She reminded him.

“Of course, What was this restaurant again?” He replied, following Cossette out the door.

“It’s this nice Italian Bistro in the middle of the old-town I thought we could go to. My parents took me there when I was really young, has a real nice atmosphere about the place. I hope that’s still the case.”

Trigger nodded, “Wait, what’s an Italian?”

***

Adams watched through the scope as a BMW pulled up and stop in front of the unassuming warehouse. From his vantagepoint he could almost make out the features of the men inside the vehicle.

“Assassin, Rider, Vehicle just stopped at the target.” Adams whispered into his throat mic.

Two clicks were his response.

The Estovakian burst weapon had been on the move non-stop for the previous few days until it landed in one of the countless warehouses in Selatapura Harbor, underneath the nose of an Osean Air Base and International Space Elevator.

“Rider, Magus, do you see any weapons?” Fick’s voice crackled through the earpiece.

Adams was still as he searched through the scope. The men hadn’t exited the vehicle so he couldn’t be positive. A few minutes later another vehicle, this time an older Chevrolet Suburban pulled up and parked behind the BMW.

Adams watched the Suburban driver kill the engine and get out; He was bald wearing a camouflaged cold weather jacket.  The thing that caught his eye was the way he walked. Unlike most of the characters he had seen the Cartel interact with, this man was too stilted in his walk, more akin to a military officer, instead of a arms dealer or soldato. Before the man reached the lead vehicle, Adams watched four sharply dressed men in suits exit the vehicle. he could almost make out the short-barreled rifles concealed underneath their coats.

“All Players, Rider, Four armed subjects, plus one unknown.” Adams whispered.

“Magus, Assassin, do I engage?” Zhao’s voice came through as a barely audible whisper.

There was a pause.

“Magus to all Servants, sit tight and do not engage. Berserker will be the one’s to take point on this” Fick ordered.

***
The restaurant Cossette had chosen was down the street from the Reconstruction Plaza, the exterior to Trigger was nothing terribly exciting, just a small black shade cover protruding out of the front of the building listing the name as Joel’s in elegant calligraphy. The interior was small and crowded with locals. The walls were lined in brick and the floor tile, the cheap wooden tables covered in a red and white checkerboard cloth. The candles on the tables flickered as their dim glow gave an intimate feel to the dining room.

Cossette and Trigger sat themselves at a table, a server walking over and taking their drink order.

“How silly of me, I run the Country, but I am still too young to even get a glass of wine.” Cossette observed.

“I mean, you could change the rule if you wanted, can’t you?” Trigger asked

Cossette thought for a moment and shrugged. “Dunno, Parliament may take issue with me giving blanket decrees like that.”

“I thought it was an absolute monarchy Erusea had.”

“Yes, but actually no. My family has a majority rule over the major business of the country. However, the parliament, like your senate, does have say on the finer details.” Cossette explained.

“Ah, so don’t step on their shoes, they won’t step on yours?” Trigger asked

“Exactly! Though who knows how long that will be-” Cossette said, before being interrupted by the server returning with their drinks.

“May I take your order miss?” the young man asked.

“Spaghetti for both of us please.” Cossette replied.

Waiting for the server to disappear into the kitchen, Cossette spoke up “Do you think he recognized me?” she asked concerned.

“I think he was more infatuated than anything. But what did you mean ‘for however long that will be’?” Trigger said, taking a sip from his cola.

Cossette raised an eyebrow “Not even jealous in that case?” avoiding the question.

Trigger shrugged “Well I know I certainly got him beat in the job department. Maybe even the looks department if I do say so myself.” he said leaning back and grinning causing Cossette to roll her eyes. “But come on what’s the deal with the parliament?” He asked again.

Cossette sighed. “As the monarchy stands, only male members are eligible for the throne. However, as luck would so have it, I have only one cousin who is a girl, meaning there is no legitimate male heirs. Parliament is wracking their brains on how to adjust the current rules to allow me to officially take the throne.” She explained. Trigger took her hand reassuringly. “You’ll figure something out. You always do.”

“So, Trigger, how was your visit to the air base today?” She asked, changing the subject.

“Hard to say. Colonel Andres doesn’t seem to like me, but I hit it off well with some of the pilots at least. Seriously what is that dudes deal?” Trigger asked.

“Unfortunately, I can’t say. I was only aware of him before the war started because of his demotion from brigadier general. But beyond that and the reasons for the demotion my father never explained. I have only been working with him since the end of November.” She explained.

Trigger nodded. “Was he one of the Conservatives then?”

“To my understanding he worked closely with lieutenant general Labarthe before his death, so yes.”

“Makes sense. I was surprised to see what your air force has become. Mostly Continental War veterans, right?” he asked.

Cossette nodded “Unfortunately, we’re working with what we have. The FCU has been cold about selling us anything newer for obvious reasons. I just hope the Radicals will be through with soon.” She said sadly.

“Makes sense. Well at least once this is settled you can work on making amends.” Trigger said hopefully.

“Of course. All things considered Erusea got off relatively lightly with the peace negotiations with Osea and the IUN.” She said sighing.

A few seconds later the waiter came out with their dinners.

Trigger studied the pasta for a second. “Oh. So, this, is what Italian is.”

***
“Sundowner One-One be advised, radar contact lost. Report when over ARCOE intersection for the TACAN Runway 21” the Farbanti Air Base Approach controller reported.

Sundowner flight was composed of two F-5 Tigers from the Erusean Air Force 111^th Fighter Squadron, composed of Captain Josh ‘Professor’ Hill and Lieutenant Daniel ‘Goombah’ Allison. The two Tigers were over the mountains returning from their CAP mission over Farbanti.

Professor was annoyed but not shocked at the report. Since the end of the war, the radar coverage around Farbanti had been awful, especially in the Mountains around the Farbanti Air Base.

 

“Sundowner One-One” Professor called back to the controller to acknowledge the report. Before letting his Oxygen mask hang to the side of his helmet. Their flight had been long and uncomfortable, the summer heat was setting in early and the nearly forty-year-old airplanes environmental control systems had long since failed. Compounded with the turbulence and added strain of flying a unergonomic fighter jet made him exhausted and wishing to be back in Griphen. Wiping the sweat from his brow, he flipped through his kneeboard until he found the approach plate and plugged in the TACAN’s channel in the F-5s navigation radio. Watching his HSI swing to life, he turned the course nob until it read 178.

“Sundowner One-Two, Sundowner One-One. You have the approach plate in front of you?” Professor called into his mask to Goombah.

“One-Two has the plate.”

“How about you brief it to me? You need the Practice.”

There was a pause.

“Ok, Looks like we’re intercepting the 178 radial at the ARCOE intersection, then waiting for the DME to count in until we hit WISTO at 21 miles out, then a DME arc in until we hit KUTME on the 210 and follow that the rest of the way in, Missed approach is at KITCH about .7 from the field and at 1460 feet.” Goombah explained.

Professor nodded in approval. “Needs work but you get the idea. Field has been VFR all day, so I doubt we’ll need this in anger.”

 

The two pilots sat in silence, watching the mountains pass by and the aircrafts distance to the airport tick down.

Suddenly, the radio crackled to life.

“Sundowner One-Three, reset IFF.” The Approach Controller called out annoyed.

What the hell? Professor thought.

“Approach, Sundowner One-One, be advised that we are a flight of two.” He called over the radio.

Silence was his response.