FORTY-SIX
Trigger gagged, spasming violently against the restraints on his
wrist and ankle as a blinding light filled his vision and he felt a tracheotomy
tube being pulled from his throat, he could hear a voice, thought the words
sounded like they were underwater and were indecipherable to the pilot.
After what felt like an eternity, the fog around his mind started
to clear. At his bedside looking over him was a man with a buzz cut and teal
scrubs, he was speaking something in a guttural language that Trigger couldn’t
understand, but through the hand gestures the man was making Trigger assumed it
was for him to breath. There was a loud continuous beeping of a heartrate
monitor behind his head and the whir of dozens of other pieces of equipment around
the hospital room. As Trigger continued to gasp for air, he was slightly
relieved that he was in a proper hospital this time.
He slowly regained his breath enough for his eyes to focus,
standing the bulkhead doorway was a far older bearded man, his paunch apparent
under his black naval officer’s uniform and doctors coat. The nurse attending
to Trigger stiffened up when he noticed the man but continued his examination
of the pilot.
The nurse released his restraints, easing some of his discomfort,
but he couldn’t help but notice that despite the drugged feeling he had, almost
everything in his body still ached incessantly. He could feel the tightness of
stiches in various places along his chest, legs and back and itching of casts
on his arms and other leg. When the nurse was completed with checking Trigger’s
cognitive abilities, he quickly rushed to the doorway to greet the intruder.
The two men spoke in hushed tones in a language Trigger was sure was
Yuktobanian, before the nurse was dismissed by the older man.
“I see you have come to join the land of the living!” the man
laughing said in a booming voice. His speech was impeccable but clouded by a
thick accent.
“Yeah, I didn’t care for the whole ‘being dead’ thing… way too
boring.” Trigger quipped weakly, falling into a coughing fit.
The man smiled widely at Trigger “Well, it is good to see your
humor was not taken from us at all Major.” He said supportively.
The use of his rank made the sweat on the back of Trigger’s neck
run cold.
“I’m sorry but, who are you again? I don’t believe we are
acquainted.”
“Actually we have met, but we were both quite drunk at the time.-“
the man explained with a chuckle, Trigger stared at him blankly not remembering
the incident he was referencing “-Counter Admiral Marko Borodin of the
Yuktobanian navy, At your service.” He said, holding out his hand. Trigger
cautiously shook it, keeping eye contact with the Admiral.
Trigger attempted to keep his best poker face, but the anxiety
building up in him was betrayed by the rapid beeping of his life-support
equipment. The Admiral seemed to enjoy the pilots discomfort.
“I wouldn’t worry about that Major. Even if our respective
countries were at war, your time on this ship is off the record. Cinigrad and
Oured have no idea you’re aboard this ship, and only I know who you are.” The
Admiral explained.
“Wait, what do you mean ship?” Trigger asked.
“Da, we’re currently aboard the Milost. It is one of
the hospital ships of my countries Navy. We’re currently on a cruise back to
our homeport of Dakhovsky in west Yuktobania.” The Admiral explained.
Trigger shook his head “Man, how long was I out for this time? A
month?”
The Admiral shook his head, walking to the foot of the bed and
picking up his chart. “Looks like you came aboard just about two weeks ago. As
for how long you were in that state before hand? I really can’t say.” He
explained as his eyes dashed across the documents before him. “We had to keep
you sedated to reduce the stress on your body. Honestly with how the attending
has written your report here, I’m surprised we’re even having this
conversation.” The Admiral replied.
Trigger shrugged, before wincing at the pain “What can I say, many
have tried to kill me, no one has yet succeeded.”
“But which ever it was this time definitely came close, do you
want the full list or just the abridged version?” the Admiral asked
rhetorically, not waiting for a response.
“You had at first examination, multiple lacerations across your
body, internal and external bleeding, seems semi-redundant, collapsed lung,
renal failure, multiple broken bones, severe damage to your liver, and
significant bruising across most of your body. You put our Operating room into
overtime just putting you back together.”
Trigger coughed in shock at the news. “Christ! I’d say I’m doing
pretty good all things considered.”
“If only” the Admiral replied “Looks like we had to remove your
lung, a kidney, and well, let’s just leave the rest as your suddenly a few
pounds lighter than you were some time ago. Also, I would avoid metal detectors
if I were you. Your femur is currently being held together with titanium plates
and screws. It was the best we could do with our limited facilities.” The
Admiral explained apologetically.
Trigger sat for a moment and dwelled on the news. “Well, if it was
just that, I guess I look pretty good then.” He quipped. “Indeed, with enough
rest and proper therapy, you should make a mostly full recovery soon.” The
Admiral informed him.
“About damn time.” A voice from the doorway said. Trigger looked
to see Bandog leaning in the doorway, looking far paler than before. The
Admiral took notice and scowled.
“Bezlikiy, You haven’t been taking the Dramamine like I
prescribed, have you?” he admonished.
Bandog shook his head. “Makes me too drowsy, hard to think.”
Bandog said dismissively.
“Fine then tupitsa, keep throwing up in the head for all I
care.” The Admiral said frustrated before turning back to Trigger. “I’ll let
you deal with him. For someone with his reputation, I would have expected him
to not be as big of a child as he has been.” The Admiral said before leaving
the room.
“Ain’t he just a ball of sunshine.” Bandog said entering the room,
shutting the door behind him.
“I think it’s just you Bandog, he was fine with me.” Trigger
replied, causing Bandog to roll his eyes.
“Joy. I guess I have a way with people. But enough about
me, how are you doing?” Bandog said changing the subject.
Trigger gestured to the room “All things considered, pretty darn
good. I always did want to drop that last ten pounds, figured this was a great
way of doing it.”
Bandog raised an eyebrow “I’ll have to try the ‘Getting the shit
kicked out of me to almost die’ diet sometimes if It works so well then.”
The two stood in silence until Trigger spoke. “How long have I
been away this time?”
“The Chopinburg raid was two and a half weeks ago.” Bandog replied
matter-of-factly.
“What happened after I, you know.” Trigger’s voice trailing off.
Bandog took a deep breath.
“I wont lie and tell you everything worked out. It was close and
the team took casualties, but without your support it would have been far
worse. Those Hind’s and Hips you attacked were able to land, and did
effectively break the Marine’s positions, but the alert fighters Osea sortied
were able to route the attack. All in all, it was an Osean victory and last I
checked there is an Osean Army unit garrisoned on the airfield while they pack
up the few jets that survived.” Bandog explained.
“Who didn’t make it?” Trigger asked, a lump forming in his throat.
Bandog frowned. “Sergeant Zhao and the Belkan’s crew chief were
killed. Lieutenant Fick is still in critical condition and it’s not looking
good for his recovery, but he’s a marine and has been surprising the doctors in
Selatapura with how long he’s made it. There were other minor injuries but
those are expected to heal fully.” As Bandog relayed the names, Trigger
felt an immense sadness. He was no stranger to Close Air Support missions where
the men he was supporting had been killed. While he did feel sadness and a
twinge of responsibility for them, He compartmentalized everything knowing
ultimately it was a part of the mission. For those three however, he found it
hard to separate their deaths from the forefront of his mind. They were not a
faceless voice crying out over a crowded radio frequency, but instead the men
he had worked with for the past few months.
Bandog watched the pained expression on the pilots face. “Good
news is though, Lauren will make a full recovery, just some blood loss but nothing
permanent.” He said hoping to change the subject. Trigger cracked a weak smile
“That’s something. And I guess I’m here too. Are the Marines with you still?”
Trigger asked.
Bandog sighed. “No, actually they don’t know your alive either to
tell you the truth.”
“Really? You’ve known for a week and haven’t told them?!” Trigger
said astonished.
Bandog held up his hands defensively. “Look, if it was up to me,
I’d tell them personally, but, a lot has happened since you disappeared.”
“Like?” Trigger shot back
Bandog pulled out a small stack of papers from his pocket and
handed them to Trigger. They were print outs from various articles, written in
various languages but Trigger could tell from the context clues that prominent
figures from around the world had ended up missing or dead.
“Most of the team went radio silent about a week ago. Not even
Osea can find them right now.” Bandog explained as Trigger thumbed through the
document. “Now I’m personally not a betting man but… I had time to go
through those files captured from that club in Anchorhead as well as getting my
hands on the intel they’ve been pulling out of that airfield. A lot of powerful
people who wouldn’t be looked at otherwise are now ending up dead or worse.
I think we both know who and why.” Bandog continued.
“But why though?” Trigger asked. Bandog shrugged and leaned back
against the bulkhead, folding his arms “You’re right. At first it was just
business, but now two of their guys is dead, their former commander is in the
hospital, and they think your missing, dead, or worse.”
“I’m betting now Osea just wished they’d have a blackjack and
hooker method of blowing off steam.” Trigger said impressed.
“Beware the fury of a patient man.” Bandog replied with a
smug smirk. “They’ll show up eventually, but only when they’re done. They know
Osea’s playbook better than most field grades.”
“Let’s, hope we stay in their good graces then.” Trigger replied.
“Indeed, just ask Rudolph Scmidt how well that worked out.” Bandog
said. The name stuck out to Trigger.
“Why does he sound familiar?” Trigger asked.
“Herr Schmidt is the CEO of the SRW Group. A low-level arms
manufacture that mostly works with smaller countries selling licensed Belkan
arms. He not only is on first name basis with dozens of world leaders, but the
future father-in-law to the Princess of Erusea. It appears Schmidt, his
pleasure yacht, and its crew and security compliment all went missing off the
coast of the Crescents Island. Calm weather, no distress calls and its unheard
of for piracy.” Bandog explained.
Trigger though back to the Erusean ball, and the heavy-set man
that Alex Schmidt had followed after their altercation. For the life of
him however, he was unable to recall any major details about the senior
Schmidt. Guess I was more than distracted. Trigger thought to himself.
“What did Schmidt do to get on Morgan’s bad side then?” Trigger asked.
“Seems like Schmidt was the one organizing less than above board
shipments to the Machado Cartel. Not only were his ships moving drugs for them,
but he sold them weapons wholesale and getting them in touch with the more specific
vendors for the more specialized ordinance and materials. I’m sure that
every district attorney from Oured to St. Hewlett would have wanted their pound
of flesh from every law he broke.” Bandog concluded.
Trigger shook his head. “The only thing I am left to wonder is why
the Cartel had those jets and were at the airfield anyways. Guns I get, but
those jets? Seems like more trouble than they were worth.”
Bandog shrugged “Unfortunately Park has been tight lipped since
her capture, but I poured through the records and found some interesting intel
on at least some of the questions. Are you by chance familiar with
Sapinish-Aeronáutica?” Trigger shook his head Bandog chuckled “Didn’t expect
you to. They were a Sapinish engineering firm back in the late 90’s. Sapin had
seen firsthand how behind they were on the world stage for an Air Force and was
looking to make their own Fifth Generation fighters to counter the Raptors,
Lightnings, and the Morgans; So they formed Sapinish- Aeronáutica to design and
produce the jet for the air force to give them that edge.
“The design was between their two most capable airframes. Their
most recent purchase had been a fleet of Rafeal fighters, but their backbone of
the fighter force in Sapin was their aging F-20 Tigersharks. Wanting to keep
the maintenance of the jets simple, as well as the flying aspects, the engineers
opted to base the design as an update to the F-20’s design to complement the
Rafael instead. The Project went along until the Continental War. The
Administration in Osea loosened up its restrictions on the procurement of jets
to its neighbors and Sapin instead opted for more proven designs, pulling
funding for the F-20 upgrade program and killing their project in its design
and early prototype phase.”
Trigger gave Bandog a confused expression. “I still don’t see how
a bunch of gangsters ended up with a jet though.”
“That’s where Lisa Park comes in. her work with Northrop gave her
detailed knowledge of the F-20’s upgrade potential and made her one of the lead
designers for the Sapinish Fifth Generation program. She vanished right as the
program was getting shut down and defected to the Cartel. She helped them with
her experience with software, and in return they helped her finish the jet.
That Airfield we attacked was former Grunder property, and before the Belkan’s
had pulled out, they had brought in all the machinery to make aircraft. It was
under Park’s guidance that they reactivated the facility and finished the work
she started years prior. All this resulting in the X-10 Hibrido"
Trigger nodded. "So they built new jets from the ground up,
but that takes a mountain of resources to accomplish, no way they could pull it
off alone, and even then what was the payoff?"
Bandog shrugged. "Ill leave that to the authorities. The
biggest question is the jets capabilities. Even Osea has taken notice of that."
Trigger thought back to his run ins with the jets. "Their maneuverability
wasn't anything to write home about, but the ECM or whatever the hell they had
was a bitch."
Bandog smirked "remind you of anything?"
Trigger thought for a moment. "The Bats?" He asked. It
was a group of Su-47 Burkit fighters that had been a minor irritation for the
LRSSG in the war. They had been hired by a Osean General to kill Trigger in
particular to further his own political ambitions within the Osean senior
leadership, all coming to a head with two more kills to Trigger and Counts
name, Huxian having to be restrained by security forces for trying to kill the
General and the greatest insult to injury of the whole ordeal resulting in
$1.50 of the Generals forfeit pay going to Lanza for the only casualty of the
incident.
Bandog nodded "exactly. Their ECM was defense in nature and a
product of General Resources. The Hibridos on the other hand, was an
offensive use, designed to lock up our fire control and radar system. Without
it, the jet is sub-par in every aspect, but with that EW suite?"
"You didn't have to worry about the enemy if they couldn't
shoot back."
Bandog snapped his fingers. "Exactly. They're running tests
against one of the captured units, but it seems to have confirmed my theory
that they're limited in the scope of their attacks. Which means we can counter
and kill them next time."
Trigger and Bandog continued to discuss the news for some time.
While most of the technical details went over both officers heads, it was
readily apparent to the Test and Evaluation squadron that the software wasn’t a
normal program either, and what was thought to be a near impracticality only a
year prior was staring them in the face.
"AI… What's the A stand for?" Trigger joked, trying to
lighten the mood. Bandog glared at him. "Artificial intelligence. You so
far are the resident killer of them, so I bet Osea really wished they had you
around instead of your wingmen. Of course, they are already looking at the
usual suspects, but it doesn't appear to be directly related to that horror
Gründer keeps trying to unleash on us." Bandog explained, Trigger almost
asked but decided against prying at the details the air battle manager was Even
uncomfortable with.
Trigger sighed "yeah I do think Osea will want to talk to me,
wouldn't they." His voice trailing off, Bandog gave him a side glance
"Trigger, before you say what I think you're going to say, my offer still
stands. Even if you don't want to work for me, I can get you set up somewhere
else where they won't find you. A fresh start, even in Osea if you
wanted." Bandog said, a pleading undertone in his voice.
Trigger shook his head. "Well maybe with good behavior I can
get out of the harshest punishment, besides a club Fed isn't the worst place to
retire." Trigger replied wistfully.
Bandog scowled. "Then what was the point?! You gave up your
life to save Oseans, twice! And they're still going to crucify you for
it!"
Trigger smiled, he could only think of Cossette, and the slim chance
that his plan might give her a sense of closure. "I had a debt to pay. The
Marines saved me, I had to repay the favor and by all accounts I did. The
mission is over, its simple as that." Trigger replied shrugging.
Bandog shook his head in frustration "You have 4 weeks of
Physical therapy. Hopefully the Yukes beat some sense into you. If not, I will
make arrangements for your surrender." Bandog said.
“Thanks.” Trigger replied as Bandog left the room.
***
It was nearing the end of November by the time the Milost had pulled
into its home port. Trigger had thought that the physical therapy from
Hernandez had been a frustrating experience but relearning to walk a second
time on a ship that was constantly listing from side to side as it made its way
across the Eusian ocean had been its own exercise of patience. Trigger however
had been pleased with his own progress as the days went on, and by his third
week he was able to walk around without one of the ships’ crew attending to him
constantly.
The night prior to his arrival into
Yuktobania, he was hosted by some of the ships officers, including Admiral Borodin for a going away party. Despite Bandog and the
Admiral’s best efforts, the news of Trigger’s actual identity had spread
through the crew like wildfire and many of the junior officer’s were keen to
hear as many stories as the pilot could offer with the aid of one or two
translators. By the end of the night, Trigger wasn’t sure if he was unsteady
due to the almost constant flow of vodka shots he had drunk at the behest of
his hosts or just the aging vessel getting battered by another wave. However,
as the dawn started to peak over the horizon, Borodin made a final toast and on
behalf of the crew presented Trigger with a present,
A simple wooden cane, painted
black, with flame decals covering a third of its length. One of the ship’s
doctors joking in Yuktobanian that it ‘would make you look faster’.
As Trigger made his way down the Gangway
onto the dock, Bandog and David were awaiting him.
“Dobro pozhalovat' v Yuktobaniyu”
Bandog said. Trigger gave him a sideways look not understanding causing Bandog
to roll his eyes. “You were onboard for a month and didn’t pick up a word of
Yuktobanain?” He admonished. Guiding Trigger towards a parked car nearby.
Trigger
ignored the comment, “About what we discussed.” Trigger opened with. He could
see Bandog cringe slightly “I’m guessing you haven’t changed your mind?”
“Nope.”
Bandog
sighed heavily David smirked “Told you so boss. If he’s crazy enough to do half
the things he did, I don’t think you would have been able to change his mind
that easily.”
“Shut
up.” Bandog hissed at his subordinate. “If that’s the case Trigger, I guess
I can make it happen. Any particular requests?”
Trigger
thought for a moment stopped and smiled. “Actually yeah. I do.”
***
Cossette sat
in her office in Cascadia. It had been some weeks since Alex had departed to
run his families business and she couldn’t have been more grateful. Not only
did it put a delay on their engagement, but it also meant she no longer had to
see him every day to keep up the appearances.
She opened
up the drawer of the desk and pulled out a small blue box, the velvet cover had
been damaged in the attacks, but she could still faintly make out the gold
lettering of the jewelry store that it originated from in Farbanti. She opened
the box to see the small gold wedding band, the single diamond shining brightly
in the center.
It had been
six months since she had seen him. Every morning she missed waking up next to
him, to see his smile and to hear his laugh. All of that she had thought six
months prior would always have been out of permanent reach. She hated herself
to admit her concerns were more towards her country and the crisis of
leadership, rather than her own wishes. It crushed her that last night her and
Trigger spent together, and how she was unaware it was her last to be with him.
Her hopes
had been raised months later with the events in Anchorhead, but despite her best
efforts, no information was found about the mysterious airplane in the sky that
night, and as quickly as her hopes had been raised, they were once again
crushed. She still hoped, no prayed, that Trigger was somewhere out there, and
would save her like he had done all those times before. But as the days dragged
on, and the more she was forced to be around Alex, the less likely that all
seemed.
She could
feel tears welling up in her eyes when there was a quick rapt on the door.
Cossette
took a deep breath to compose herself, and gently closed the box and returned
it to her desk.
“Just a
moment!” Cossette said, trying to hide the emotions in her voice.
“Your
Highness, Its Gretchen, We need to talk.” The voice said softly from the
other side of the door. Cossette quickly got up and let the maid into the room.
“Your
Highness, I know you have been pestering them for months for information and
they have been ignoring you, but that’s finally over today I-“ the Maid started
speaking rapidly. Cossette was taken aback at the flustered expression on the
aging woman’s face. she held up her hands to stop the constant barrage of
speech. “Ok, Ok Gretchen, one thing at a time.” Cossette said.
Gretchen
took a deep breath. “There was a message for you today Your Highness, our
Intelligence services are verifying it now, plus the Oseans, but they are
thinking it might be legitimate. They didn’t want to worry you but my sources
in the community tipped me off.” The Maid said.
Cossette
looked at her confused “What message? Who are you talking about?”
The maid
pulled out a folded piece of paper and handed it to Cossette. The Handwriting
was brutish, and hard to read, but it looked familiar.
Meet me at 2341 Meridian Plaza
6PM, Friday.
