Chapter 49

 FORTY-NINE

Trigger was led silently back to his cell, feeling drained from the exchange he slumped down onto his mattress. 

He was angry, At Cossette, at the Oseans, and mostly of all,

at himself.

He hated himself for losing his temper with her. He wished he could take all the words he said to her back but knew that was impossible. He rested his head against the mesh wall of his cell and sighed. “Well, you really screwed up that one dumbass.” He sighed to himself.

His mind went through the meeting over and over. Every word said between the two played through his mind as he tried to decipher why he had thrown away his one chance to see her again. Even he was at a loss for his outburst. His only certainty was that he had hurt Cossette and he hated himself because of it. He wasn’t sure he even blamed her for hating him after the meeting.

faintly as he thought he heard footsteps, it wasn’t until a clanging of metal at his cells door that snapped him back to reality. Startled, Trigger looked up to see the guard and the Selatapura Air Bases’ commander, Colonel Byrns on the other side of the mesh. Instinctively Trigger shot up to the position of attention. He stumbled slightly and fell into the side wall, carefully, he braced himself to a modified position of attention.

“Hello sir.” Trigger said stiffly, trying to not show the discomfort of his leg. 

Byrns studied him for a moment, Trigger wasn’t sure if it was disgust or pity that adorned the normally jovial man’s face. Byrns exhaled sharply before he spoke. 

“They told me you we’re here but frankly I didn’t believe them. But then again they said a lot of things about you I’m not sure I believe.” He spoke.

“I’ve heard that from more than a few people.” Trigger replied, trying to lighten the mood. Byrns expression remained. 

 “That nice Agent from the OSI said you were a traitor, but I didn’t believe it. The casualty list said you were likely dead, but I knew that was crap when we saw your stunt at Anchorhead. But I can put all that aside given your service record Major. The one thing I can’t believe with all the facts I have is, why the hell the Princess is at my base right now, and why did she talk to you?” 

Trigger tried to feign ignorance “Well sir, we did work together, maybe she was worried about her colleague?” he lied.

“Trigger cut the crap. I’m not OSI and I’m not your enemy here. I want to help you but I can’t unless you tell me why you wanted to meet with her. And Here of all places. If I have that piece, maybe I can help you work out a better deal than the short end of the stick they’re offering” the Colonel pleaded his case. 

Trigger was in silent thought for a moment. He had known the Colonel for only a handful of months, and in that time, he never once had the inclination the man was one to be dishonest. But the scars from his time in McKnight, and various injuries he suffered afterword’s taught him valuable lessons on trusting just anyone, even if they happened to wear the same uniform. 

Trigger took a deep breath and let it out slowly. 

“Colonel, thank you for your concern but I’m not willing to speak to that. At this point anyone I’m speaking to from here on out will be my lawyer.” He said firmly. 

Byrns sighed. “Dammit Trigger.” He turned to the guard “Prepare the prisoner for the transfer. The sooner he’s off my Airbase the better.” He ordered before pivoting on his heel and walking away.

“Alright Major, place your hands on the wall please.” The guard ordered. 

***
“Strider flight, cleared to land Runway two-zero.” The controller said. 

“Strider flight, cleared to land.” Count called out as he configured the F-15 for landing. He knew the sight picture well; he had seen it dozens of times while stationed here. 

Unlike being relieved at the sight of the friendly runway, he was just tired. It had been an early transcontinental flight from New Arrows, their jets configured lightly for escort, carrying more fuel than ordinance. They would have a brief stop in Selatapura to rest their legs, refuel the jets and brief with the Globemaster crew they would escort, then they would be off in another six-hour flight directly to Oured. 

As he got lower to the runway, he eased the jet back until he felt the main wheels touch the pavement, he eased onto the brakes and guided the jet to the ‘cold’ side of the runway before exiting on a taxiway. He waited for Huxian, Fencer, Jeager and the three Ferry pilot’s from the Privateers to land before he called the ground controllers and was directed towards the Airbase side of the ramp. As they approached the apron, he could see the massive C-17’s tail above all the structures littering the once empty slab of concrete. 

“There it is Our guide for the next few hours boys and girls.” Count said sardonically. 

“Really? When I heard it was a VIP transport, I pictured something more… classy.” Huxian remarked. 

“Probably transporting more than just a VIP. Rare but its certainly happened.” Jeager Hypothesized. 

“Yeah, but the General implied whoever was going was a big name. You’d expect an executive transport at least.” Fencer added. 

“Doesn’t matter, we have to make sure this plane makes it there in one piece. No point in arguing it.” Count replied. 

Osean ground crews were waiting for them as they taxied in. from the moment Count had the canopy opened an Osean maintainer had positioned the ladder for him to egress. He took off his helmet and hastily shoved it into the bag and loosened up his straps before he climbed out of the jet. He turned to see the familiar face in Skald.

“Where’s the escort crew?” Count said shaking the other pilots hand.

“Right this way.” The Skald replied motioning for him to follow. Count whistled for Fencer to tag along as well they followed Skald across the busy ramp. The C-17’s pilot was standing under the shade of the large wing directing the operations around her jet. Count was taken aback briefly at seeing her, she stood half a head taller than himself, with almost translucent skin and pale silver hair tied into a ponytail. As Count approached her, he could see the callsign on her flight suit was aptly named Gorilla. 

“Major Erwin, the fighter escort is here to see you.” Skald reported letting the Major take notice of the two shorter pilots awaiting her. She looked down at Count, “Are you the LRSSG?” she asked. 

“Yes Ma’am, four F-15’s that will be ready to go in about half an hour. Got light ordinance but we will be your cover all the way back to Oured.” Count replied, uncomfortably craning his neck upwards to look reply to her. 

The Major nodded “That will be fine, the package isn’t here yet so there isn’t any rush.” She said dismissively. 

Count surveyed the ramp, to his slight discomfort only seeing the ground handling crews working on both jets, but no supplies or other troops being transported. “By the way Major, any idea what we’re escorting? General Shepard left us in the dark.” Count asked. 

The Major looked at him quizzically before shrugging “Paperwork I was given said Prisoner transport. Not generally the mission for The Moose but we’re just as good for it as anyone else. Procedures wise this is same as fragged.  All of this must have been some important prisoner for all this though, it was a last-minute mission.” She explained. 

“Yeah, we noticed.” Fencer interjected. 

“Thank you Major, that will be all.” Count said taking a step back, taking refuge under one of the engine nacelles. He patted his pocket for a packet of cigarettes for a moment before he cursed under his breath. He felt a slight punch in the arm and turned to see Fencer holding out a stick of gum.

“Whats this?” 

“Nicotine gum. Not much better but it won’t send us all sky high from you lighting up here.” Fencer said, taking a stick for himself. 

“Noted.” Count replied taking the stick, he felt an uncomfortable tingling sensation as the stimulant was released but he was able to ignore the sensation quickly. Moments later Huxian, Tailor, Lanza and Jeager walked up to the two men. 

“Whats the story?” Huxian asked. 

“Well, for one thing, our pilots a gorilla, that’s something.” Fencer replied stoically, garnering a confused look from the two pilots. 

“Her callsigns’ Gorilla. And its standard escort, If anything goes sideways, Huxian and I will break off to engage, Jeager and Fencer, you two stay with the C-17, make sure it gets out in one piece.” 

“Got it.” the pilots replied in unison. 

Jeager looked around the ramp, “Awfully quiet for a C-17 loading.” He mused. 

“Yeah, Its just one guy. Prisoner transport.” Count replied. 

“Who’s the asshole who ranks this much? I don’t even think Clemens got this much of a red-carpet treatment when he went back.” Huxian said. 

Count shrugged “Guess we’ll find out.” 

***
Cossette sat in the back of the black suburban and stared out the window silently. Gretchen and Cossette’s bodyguard sat quietly in the front seat awaiting instructions from the Royal. 

She wasn’t sure what she had expected. She knew he was going to be detained, the Osean Government told her as much, but she didn’t anticipate how much he had changed in the past seven months. Aside from his appearance changing slightly, she could tell he was different mentally. No longer was he the strong-willed man she had fallen for, he looked broken down and tired. She looked to the folder next to her and opened it to find the medical examiners report from Trigger’s Intake. 

In between the lines of the doctors notes on his various injuries, she could see what was patently obvious. The men who captured him at McKnight finally being able to do what the year of hard high G fighting had failed to do. His body had finally become broken it would be unlikely for him to fly ever again with the nerve damage in his leg and various outdated surgeries used to put him back together. 

She could feel a tear well up in her eye as she thought about how he actually felt. When he first saw her, it wasn’t exhaustion or hate in his eyes, It was the same spark she knew so well. But I had to keep up appearances, just Incase they were listening. She thought to herself. 

She knew it was a lie. 

Frankly, seeing him in the inmates uniform and chained to the floor frightened her. He no longer was the loving boyfriend she knew; he was a chained animal. She cursed herself for thinking about him in that way.  

She had unconsciously started to slip into the role of the Royal instead of the reunited lover. The longer they had talked, the more defeated his eyes got and the more distant he became in his answers. Deep down she had wanted to know where he was, what he was up to for the past seven months and if he was flying all along like the camera’s showed at Anchorhead. But instead, his answers had pushed her too far.

She had thrown the past seven months of anguish she felt into one brief outburst pushing him beyond his own limit. And when that occurred, Trigger had resorted to the one thing he could, He pushed back. 

His words cut into her, He could have seen, no, should have known, she was not going to betray him like that; but she was all alone. What else could she have done? She thought to herself. 

Gretchen cleared her throat before stepping out of the car. A moment later she climbed into the back seat next to Cossette and took her hand. She stared at the younger woman and smiled warmly. 

“You’re hurting, aren’t you dear?” she asked. 

Slowly, Cossette nodded her head. While Gretchen knew her place as a maid, Cossette looked to her as a surrogate motherly figure and confidant during and after the war. Cossette valued Gretchen more than she could have known. “I just don’t understand what’s happening.” Cossette said wiping the tears from her eyes, just for them to be replaced just as quickly. 

Gretchen smiled and nodded her head. “I understand dear, these things happen. But you need to take one thing into consideration.” 

“Whats that?”

“He came back.” Gretchen said reassuringly. “Remember, he was gone, not even the Oseans could find him, and if he had really wanted to? He could have stayed hidden. But he came out of hiding Just for you.” 

Cossette placed her hand over her mouth in shock. With all that had transpired over the previous few days, she had never taken that into account. 

Gretchen could see Cossette’s mind at work as it was painted across her face. The older woman laughed embracing Cossette in a hug as the younger woman was reduced to tears. Cossette was comforted in the warm sensation as she wept. After a moment, Gretchen pulled back and sighed. 

“You know, I thought this might come in handy so I’m glad I took it with me before we left.” Gretchen said. 

Cossette gave her a confused glance. “What are you talking about?” She asked as she watched Gretchen reach into her pocket and pull out a small blue box, with a damaged velvet cover. Gently Gretchen handed the box over to Cossette, clasping the small container into her hands. “I think we know what comes next.” Gretchen said with a mischievous grin. 

Cossette turned to her Bodyguard behind the driver’s seat “We need to go back to the detention center, now!” she ordered, almost choking up from the emotion. 

“Yes, your Highness” the guard replied as he put the large suburban into drive and spun it around back towards the heart of the air base. 

It didn’t take them long to reach the front entrance, Cossette quickly scrambled out of the car, hastily followed by Gretchen. A few Osean soldiers quickly moved out of her way, confused at the sight they were seeing as Cossette swung the door open to see a surprised looking Osean behind the desk. 

“Uhh, is there something I can help you with?” the Osean stammered. 

“I Want to see the Prisoner one more time please, I have permission from General Shepard.” Cossette lied. 

The Osean typed furiously into his computer before scowling. 

“Is something the matter?” Cossette asked annoyed. 

“Well ma’am, er uh, Your Highness, I’d love to help you but I’m showing that detainee was already moved from this facility.” He replied flustered. 

“Moved? When? Where to?” Cossette asked. 

The Osean Shrugged. “I’m sorry ma’am, I’m not at liberty to say. Just that he’s been transferred to a different unit that handles prisoner transit, looks to be just a few minutes ago.”

Cossette stood back from the desk she felt determined for the first time in a long time. She turned to Gretchen “he couldn’t have gone far. I want to speak to the Base Commander right away. Maybe we can stop him.” She said determined. 

Gretchen nodded. “Right away your highness.” 

***
Trigger was in the back of the van, restrained to a metal eye bolt in the floor. The ride to the jet was short and quiet, He watched as the various planes of the base passed by. He saw the familiar FG adorning the tails of the replacement squadron’s jets and a collection of other orphaned aircraft who were still on base over a year later. Their former squadrons being entirely destroyed and closed following the end of the war, and the surviving crews being transferred to other squadrons. 

Trigger could see the looming tail of the C-17 as they approached, and just beyond, four F-15C Eagle fighter jets being hastily refueled. 

An Escort? Trigger thought to himself. 

The van stopped abeam the nose of the C-17 and the guards climbed out of the vehicle, securing the area so they could move him into the jet itself. Trigger glanced to the interloping Eagles and saw something that made a pit form at the bottom of his stomach. 

W W - the tail code for New Arrows Air Base squadrons. He could see a gaggle of pilots standing under the wing, He squinted but through the dark tinted glass of the van he couldn’t see in detail who the pilots were. He could feel his pulse start to rise as the guard approached the door and slid the door open. 

“Alright Major, I’m going to need you do place your hands out to here.” The guard directed, removing Trigger’s restraints. Trigger couldn’t help himself from squinting as the light assaulted his eyes, Roughly the guards led him by the arm towards the jet. 

He felt sick the closer he got. His eyes started adjusting and he saw in detail the numbers on one of the Eagles.

015

His heartbeat was racing as he limped closer. Every muscle in his body telling him to flee. He could hear familiar noises. 

Voices he hadn’t heard in over half a year, familiar laughs and chatter of men and women he had fought alongside with. 

“Whose this asshole anyway?” Trigger heard one voice say, it was that of his wingman Count.

“Dunno, doesn’t look like much.” Huxian added. 

“Wait is that-“ the older voice of reason, Jeager was cut off. 

Trigger could hear stomping of boots closing in on him and the guards. 

“What the hell is going on here?” Count shouted at one of the guards. 

Trigger felt the guard tense up at the sudden attack, the other guard quickly deployed her collapsible baton, Trigger could see Huxian reaching for her pistol and the few Security Forces Airman reaching for their weapons as the situation started to escalate. 

“Prisoner Transfer.” A much larger woman said calmly walking up behind Count. 

Count shot her a disgusted look “Do you know who he is?” he asked indignantly. The taller woman shrugged “A Prisoner I imagine.” She said bluntly

The guards moved Trigger back from Count, he could tell the pilot was seething. “He has saved our asses so many times and we treat him like this?” He said angrily pointing to Trigger. 

The taller pilot was unmoved at Trigger’s former executive’s impassioned speech. 

“Count, it’s ok.” Trigger said pleading. 

Count shot him a look “What the hell did you get caught up in Trigger? You dropped off the face of the earth and now this?” 

Trigger shrugged and chuckled “I guess I forgot to file my taxes, the IRS does what the OIB cannot, amiright?” he joked, however Count continued to scowl.

“It doesn’t matter, the prisoner is to be transported to Oured and that’s our job, now Captain, get out of his way so we can board him.” the woman ordered. 

“This isn’t right. He isn’t a threat, he shouldn’t be treated like this!” Count protested. 

The woman looked to be sizing Count up, she leaned back and folded her arms. “Captain, If theres a problem, I personally have no issue with getting it handled right here and now.” 

“Oh yeah? How so? What’s an Airlift puke going to do to me?” Count shot back. 

The woman chuckled “Well, first calling General Shepard’s office to have you removed from this mission for a conflict of interest and over-all lack of confidence, and if that doesn’t work, I feel pretty good about my crews odds against yours.” She said starting to lean over the pilot.

Trigger tried to raise his hands, but was largely unable due to the shackles “Can I say something?” He asked 

“Shut up!” Both Count and the C-17 Pilot shouted at him in unison. 

“Of course.” Trigger muttered, He could feel the tension in his arms from the two guards, unsure who to listen to between the two arguing officers.

As Trigger and the rest on the ramp watched the argument unfold between the two pilots, Trigger could not help but notice that the Security Force’s airman’s radios started barking at them. Unfortunately, the guards being on a separate frequency, as well as the ambient noise of the airfield made understanding what was being said nearly impossible, but what Trigger was sure of was that something big was occurring and it wasn’t the pissing contest unfolding before him. 

Finally, something was said in a quiet tone to the lead guard. Trigger strained to hear but what he made out was ‘Fire Actual Inbound’. When Trigger was assigned to Selatapura, ‘Fire’ was the radio callsign Byrns had selected for himself, but Trigger had rarely heard it used outside of the handful of briefings.

The lead guard looked to his subordinate “We need to go now.” He ordered. The second guard nodded in agreement and prepared her baton, ready to force her and Trigger onto the Globemaster if required. 

The lead guard cleared his throat. “Ma’am, Sir, we need you both to step aside now.” He said forcefully, stopping the two pilots in their tracks. 

“Whats going on?” Count demanded.

The guard looked at him uneasy “Command post didn’t say but we have an unexpected guest coming and the Base Commander wants the prisoner on board and secured before they arrive.” He explained. 

The C-17 pilot nodded and stepped out of the way “go ahead, my men will assist in any way we can.” She said calmly. Count paused a second before following the other pilots lead, giving Trigger and the guards a clear shot into the plane. “Let’s get a move on prisoner.” The lead guard said as he dragged Trigger towards the plane. Trigger watched as the various ground crews and security forces airman rushed to take positions, the LRSSG Pilots uneasily tightened the straps on their harness and started eying positions of cover they could use in the event that the situation required it. 

An uneasy silence fell around the jet as the roar of an cars engine echoed around them.

As Trigger reached the threshold of the door, He could see a black suburban car driving rapidly towards them. 

“Aw shit. Let’s get a move on.” The lead guard hissed as he forced Trigger up the short stairs of the Globemaster.

The Suburban slowed and pulled around the van Trigger was transported in, coming to a stop. Trigger looked over his shoulder when he heard the distinct slamming of the suburbans doors and a noticeable high pitched Clack clack clack of high heeled shoes on the concrete pavement. 

the unease around the ramp turned to pure confusion as a flustered looking Colonel Byrns climbed out of the car and tried to catch up to the young woman approaching the jet. 

She brushed passed the murmuring airman and stopped short of the jet’s door, merely feet from Trigger. 

Her steely blue eyes looked radiant and were locked with Trigger’s own. For a brief moment it seemed to Trigger that everyone and everything around him had stopped. 

Finally, she spoke. 

“Excuse me, I need to speak to your prisoner.” She asked politely. 

The guards stared at the woman dumbfounded “What?” they asked confused, the lead guard looked to Trigger who shrugged. Ignoring their response, she turned her attention back to Trigger. 

“Trigger, you asked me about my answer that night.” She spoke, carefully she placed one foot on the staircase, the younger guard tensed up as the woman climbed the staircase and was face to face with Trigger.

Before he knew it, he felt her soft lips on his as she grabbed and held onto him. After a moment he wished he could have spent eternity in being embraced in her warmth, Cossette let go and took a step back turning her attention to the dumbstruck lead guard. 

“Maybe you didn’t hear me? I said, I need to speak to my fiancé.” 

Chapter 48

FORTY-EIGHT

Trigger stared at the ceiling of his ‘Cell’.



Though ‘Cell’ wasn’t an accurate word for his accommodations. A Cell was the room he had in Zapland, made of cold concrete, with a rock-hard mattress, stainless steel toilet and sink, a small desk, and a steel door that in Trigger’s opinion, really tied the room together.



The room Trigger found himself detained within could hardly be as luxurious. Hastily constructed following the end of the war, the Selatapura Air Base Detention Facility was held within one of the many Hangars in the airfield. Inside was three “multi-bed” cells and surrounding them was the individual solitary cells. Everything on the inside was made from hastily welded together steel beams and wire mesh, leading to almost no privacy inside the large hangar. Trigger wasn’t bothered however, most of the Prisoners of War held in the facility were repatriated shortly after the LRSSG had left, leaving the only inmates in the facility the Oseans serving at the base.



His check in the night prior had reminded him immensely of his time before the penal unit. He was first brought to intake where the Security Forces members confiscated the few personal effects, he had on him and checked for contraband. Afterword’s he was taken to the booking where the Airman took photos of his front and profile view, as well as taking his fingerprints and other personal information. HE was then met by one of the bases Flight surgeons to record his medical history and couldn’t help but smirk at the doctors visible surprise at the various scars that now adorned his body. Trigger was at least passingly familiar with many of the people he had seen, and from the looks on the Airman’s faces, he could tell they were aware who he was.



While going through classifications, Trigger felt conflicted about his own history. To the visible surprise of the Lieutenant checking him in, he could see his record following the Harling Rescue mission get displayed, as well as the follow up paperwork commuting his sentence and the formal pardon granted by the board of inquiry on the case. Almost every Osean was aware that the former president had been killed by one of their own. However, few if any knew that Harling’s Murderer, and the legendary Three Strikes were one in the same.



It wasn’t until the early hours of the morning that he was finally processed into the detention center and quickly ordered to bed. His cloths being replaced with a dark brown utility uniform devoid of any insignia beyond a white nametape. It was almost refreshing to wear a ‘proper’ military garment after his months of jeans, t-shirts, flight suits and heavy body armor. Trigger paced his cell briefly before settling into bed. The foam mat providing little comfort, but he fell asleep rather quickly regardless.

***

Trigger wasn't sure if it was before or after midnight when the Frigate pulled into port, not that he cared much as it finally got him out of the cramped brig of the ship and back onto solid land.



Going topside on the ship Trigger could feel the oppressively hot and humid air immediately. His uniform felt tighter, and he could feel it get harder to breathe.



A slight panic set in as he glanced around to the pitch-black darkness around him, the moon was nearly a sliver in the sky and provided the prisoner with no comfort as he tried to regain his bearings.



He was told he was going to an Osean military prison in Usea, but beyond that he was unsure where exactly he was.



"Are you just turning me loose here or?" Trigger quipped. The Sailor scowled and hit him in the back with the butt of his shotgun to get Trigger moving.



With his hands cuffed behind his back, he uncomfortably walked down the gangway, His guard following steps behind him. Halfway down Trigger stopped. "Get moving" the guard barked. Trigger stared at him, squinting in the darkness, "I need to hold on to the handrail, its unsafe" he said defiantly. The guard scowled "You're a murderer, who cares. Now get moving" the guard ordered again.



"No" Trigger replied, Standing his ground. The guard sighed and took a step back, Trigger smirked for a moment before the Guards boot was sent violently into his ribs, Trigger collapsed Gasping before another kick to his sternum sent him rolling the rest of the way down to the hard concrete pier.



He laid on the ground groaning for a moment as he heard the steps of boots following down the gangway.



"There, you made it down. Now get up." The Sailor barked. Trigger coughed and spat out a glob that tasted like copper. "God whose dog did I fucking kick?" Trigger asked rhetorically.



"Get up" the sailor repeated, placing his boot next to Triggers face. "Fine, fine, just help me up" Trigger said surrendering. He was roughly brought to his feet and marched to the entrance of the pier. Closer to land he could see the faint outline of large buildings, but he couldn't see any lights outside of one or two at what he imagined was the rooftops.



Two figures stood waiting for him.



"You the 444?" The Sailor asked.



"One in the same, this the new piece of shit?" One of the men asked.



"Yep, he's also your problem now" the sailor said, shoving him forward.



The two men met Trigger halfway, shining a dull flashlight in his face. The man speaking smirked as he whispered something to his compatriot.

"So, he give you a fight?" The man asked the sailor.



Trigger spoke up "Well, what had happened was-" Trigger was cut off with a blow to the stomach, sending him doubled over in pain. "Shut the fuck up. No one is talking to you." The man hissed.



The Sailor chuckled at the sight “Yeah, something like that.”

“I see, We’ll keep extra watch on him then.” The man replied, turning his attention back to Trigger. “Now you better not give us any more problems you hear? Come on, we’re still gonna put you to work tomorrow and we still gotta get you checked in.” he said walking into the dark void. The second man grabbed Trigger by the arm and guided him. Trigger tried to keep track of how far he was walking but quickly became lost in the void. The first man was guiding himself by the pale light of his flashlight, and to the best of what Trigger could tell, there was no discernable landmarks to navigate by otherwise.



Trigger’s legs were sore from the walk as they finally reached a set of chain-link fences. There was chatter over the lead mans walkie talkie before Trigger heard a buzz and the gate opened. He was led through narrow chain link corridors until reaching the decrepit concrete and steel prison itself.



The sally port was dimly lit by a handful of exposed fluorescent lights. Like with the handful of prisons and jails he had been through in the weeks prior, the guards took his information, checked him for contraband and then threw him into one of the empty cells of the prison.


Trigger rubbed his wrists as he heard the guards walk away.

“Home sweet home I guess.” He said to no one in particular. He walked over to the sink and ran the water. It sputtered before giving a few drops before stopping completely.

“Just great.” Trigger said as he scooped up the little puddle in the sink and splashed his face, He probed and could feel the cuts and bruising already. While not the first fight he had ever found himself in, He was still disappointed with how he performed.

There was a loud coughing noise from the cell next to him, Trigger chose to ignore it and sat down on the hard mattress. The coughing was constant and increasingly sounding acted as the time dragged on.


Trigger sighed and went to the door of his cell, the coughing then stopped “Yo buddy, still alive?” a voice from the other cell asked.

“Who starts a conversation like that?” Trigger groaned.

“Oh, you know, people I guess.” The stranger replied.

“People? You mean weirdos?”

“It’s a matter of perspective really. What they have you in here for?” the prisoner asked.

“Something I didn’t do.” Trigger replied.

The prisoner laughed “You and everyone else buddy. But seriously? What they through you in Casa del Zapland for?”

“Murder.” Trigger replied.

“Oh nice, well you’re in good company then, got a whole lot of those, and a whole assortment of other colorful folks here, I’m sure you’ll get by fine enough if your smart.”

“And if not?” Trigger asked.

“Well, if not? Your sentence won’t be for as long as you thought I guess.” The Prisoner replied.
***
A bang at his cell door roused him awake.



Trigger rubbed his face wearily shaking off the dream. “That’s funny, I could have swore I requested my wake up startle at zero nine hundred.” He said groggily, yawning and stretching out. Slowly he slid himself onto the mat and uneasily got to his feet, desperately missing his cane for stability as he stumbled over onto the wall.



He hissed and steadied himself onto his feet as the guard watched impatiently. "Come on, git up now. Gots someone waiting fer you." The Security forces Airman said in his thick drawl.

"Who now? That OSI Agent?"



The Airman shrugged. "Don't much know about that. Just gots to get you to the interview room right quick. Figure you'll find out there." The Airman replied.

Trigger rolled his eyes "Greeat" he groaned, he turned around and put his hands through the slot in his door, allowing the guard to put the cuffs on him.



The guard opened the door and gruffly took Triggers arm leading him out of the hangar and towards a collection of temporary trailers.



"Do I not get Breakfast first?" Trigger asked annoyed.



"Nah, I don't think you would want it anyway. Watery grits and moldy biscuits. I'll see if I can't sneak you a granola bar or something later." The guard offered.

“Thanks” Trigger said halfheartedly as he was forced up the metal steps into the trailer. The interior was bland, with a metal table bolted to the floor cheap office carpeting and two chairs. A security camera was in the corner of the room, and there was a pitcher of water and a set of glasses on the table. The guard sat Trigger down in one of the chairs and secured his handcuffs and shackles to metal poles bolted to the ground, effectively pinning him in place.



The guard stepped back once he was finished “All rights now, you just hold tight right there, and someone will be along to speak with ya’s.” before he exited the room.


Trigger sat silently, staring at the blank beige walls for a few minutes until the door propped open again, He craned his head around towards the blinding morning light shining in through the doorway see an older woman step in, survey the room before whispering something that he could not hear. Silently she walked to the camera and with a quick and violent motion, pulled the cord from the back of the device. She stared for a moment at her handiwork before exiting the room, paying no attention to the still shackled Trigger.

Trigger’s eyes took a moment to adjust to the sudden onslaught of light when a smaller, younger figure filled the doorway and walked in. Her once long blond hair was cut short, down to above her shoulders. Her skin was still flawless and radiant, but the look on her face betrayed her weariness. Though he could tell she was trying to hide it, her steely blue eyes were that of someone who was slowly being broken down by circumstance rather than age. Instinctively, Trigger tried to stand up, but was pinned to the chair thanks to his shackles.

“Cossette, I-“ Trigger said dumbfounded. She held up her hand to stop him as she took the seat opposite of him. She nodded and the door closed firmly behind him.



She stared at him for what felt like an eternity. Trigger suddenly felt a pit of terror forming in his stomach as he waited for her to speak.



He could see a small smile form at the edge of her lip.

“You grew out a beard.” She finally spoke. Unconsciously Trigger reached up and rubbed his chin. He had hardly taken notice that he had stopped shaving once he woke up on the Milost. Trigger smiled back. “Yeah, figured I would try something new, ya know? I see you did your hair as well.” He replied. Cossette nodded “The long hair was fine for a princess but isn’t fit for a queen. This is what the royal stylist suggested.” She explained. “Royal stylist now? That’s a job title I’ve never heard.” Trigger quipped. Cossette shook her head dismissing the comment “Oh you’d be amazed how many staff I actually have Major.”



Trigger’s heart froze. Major. That one word told him everything of what he was fearing, this was not to be the reunion he had wanted or hoped for. Far from it. Trigger steeled himself and stood up straighter.

“With that being said your highness, I am glad to see you’re ok.” He replied sharply.

“Likewise major. After our separation at McKnight I was worried for you’re safety, When I received your letter I came down right away.” She replied, He could see her face become flush slightly as she finished her sentence.



“I’m glad it got through, wasn’t sure who would be going through your mail.” Trigger replied carefully, looking around the room. Getting the hint, she nodded. “I have been assured that our conversation is to be private. Your government owes me that much.”

Trigger nodded understanding, “Can’t be too careful.” He said sighing and relaxing slightly, the two sat in silence for a time.



“Where were you?” Cossette asked quietly.

“What?” Trigger responded

“I said, ‘Where were you?’ It’s a simple question.” She repeated, her tone was harsh and the same voice she used against her subordinates or the politicians who had interfered with her. Trigger had heard it countless times but had never been on the receiving end. He wasn’t a fan.



He took a moment to formulate his answer before replying. “I’m sorry, I can’t say.”

“Can’t say? Or wont.”

“I can’t.” Trigger replied.

“Why didn’t you contact me? Or anyone, to tell us you were safe? Why now?” Cossette asked.

Trigger thought back to his first talk with Bandog in Chopinburg.

You Trigger, will have to be a ghost. For all intents and purposes, you will have died on May 17th in the attack. You can’t have any contact with your past life while on the job. If you had anyone close, they’re just going to have to deal with an empty pinewood box and a folded flag.

The words stuck out in his mind. He hoped she would understand. He sighed “It was apart of the deal.”

“What deal?”

“The one I made to stay safe. After McKnight it was pretty clear that I was damaged goods to someone, these men, they helped me. In return I had to do some work for them and I had to stay off the radar. It was for everyone’s safety.” Trigger tried to explain.

“What does that even mean? ‘Everyone’s safety’? Who were you working with?” Cossette plied.

Trigger held up his hands defensively. “No one I swear! They just saw an opportunity to bring me on and I did some odd jobs for them, it was all above board.” Trigger replied, though he wasn’t sure how truthfully legitimate his work under Bandog was.

Cossette shook her head. “Trigger, you were gone almost seven months, where have you been?”

Trigger shook his head “I’m sorry, I really can’t say. But just know I was safe, and I was doing good work.” Again, lying about how safe he was, his leg throbbing incessantly.

“If this was good work, why couldn’t you at least tell me you were alive?” Cossette asked.

“I thought it would be better that way to agree to their terms. For your safety.”

“My safety? From what?” Cossette hissed insulted.

“Me. I’m sure you saw the reports, they thought I was involved in those attacks. And whose to say they wouldn’t have tried to pin it on you!” Trigger shot back.



Cossette glared at Trigger, but instead of feeling small, he was livid. An anger was boiling up inside him that he had tried to drown in that bar in Chopinburg months prior.



“Trigger, there are many things I needed protection from. You were supposed to do that. But no, When I needed you most, you vanished. I tried looking for you but everyone said you were dead. No one told me that you were involved in those attacks, and even if they did, I wouldn’t have any of it. So frankly How dare you insinuate I needed protection by you when you’re the one who abandoned me!” She said leaning forward on the table, her voice rising in volume as each word stabbed him like a dagger.



“Well pretty goddamn clearly you found a replacement.” Trigger shot back.

“Excuse me?” Cossette replied incredulously.

Trigger stared her in the eyes “I saw the news you know. I know you and that prick Alex are engaged. When’s the wedding by the way? Do I get an invite as your ex?” He said caustically.

He could see the fury in her eyes, before he could react, his face felt hot as she slapped him. The sharp pain radiated from his cheek. “How dare you!” she hissed

“I have been stuck with that asshole for the past seven months! Where were you? Why didn’t you do something!” she shouted tears streaming down her cheeks.

Trigger focused on the carpeting, unable and unwilling to face her. He felt awful, and not because she struck him.



“I’m here now, aren’t I?” Trigger asked quietly.

“What?” Cossette said, wiping away the tears from her eyes, trying to compose herself.

“I’m here now. And you have no Idea how much I wanted to be with you while I was gone.” Trigger replied exhausted.

He could feel her gaze upon him as he awaited judgement. “Trigger, time has passed. I just don’t know if we can just go back to the way things were. Not now, and maybe not ever.” She replied.

Trigger nodded his head silently.



Cossette took a moment to compose herself and walked to the door.

“Major,” she spoke carefully “Thank you for talking with me.” She replied, knocking on the door to be let out.



Trigger stared at the wall “You know, I never did get an answer.” He said loudly.

“What?” Cossette said turning.

“An answer, you never gave me one that night. I guess now I can make assumptions on what it was all along, but I really wish you could have said something then.” He spoke.

Cossette said nothing and exited the room.

***
“Excuse me!?” Palmer shouted at the unimpressed looking sergeant.

“I’m sorry Agent, the Major is already in an interview with someone, you can speak to him afterword’s.” The Sergeant explained.

“Interview? With who? I’m the only one who he should have an interview with, unless did he retain a lawyer?” Palmer demanded.

The Sergeant shrugged “I’m not at liberty to say even if I knew sir. I just have orders and those orders say that Prisoner 7853 is in an interview from zero-seven-thirty until zero-eight hundred. When it comes from the general staff office, its certainly not my place to question orders.”

Palmer shook his head in defeat turning to Lieutenant McKay. “Can you believe this shit? Go call Oured and see if we can’t figure out who the hell he’s talking to.” He ordered. The young officer nodded and exited the room to make the calls.

Palmer buried his face in his hands in frustration, “Why does this guy have to be such a pain in the dick? I just ask for once can we not have this problem.” He groaned to no one before taking a seat in the waiting rooms uncomfortable plastic chairs.



He checked his watch, His planned interrogation would take them to lunch, then the extradition detail would arrive and Trigger and himself would be headed back to Oured for the investigation to finally conclude and for the court martials to take place. Jeff was quickly getting tired of Usea and the problems it seemed to attract.



There was a flurry of words spoken into the sergeants walkie talkie.

The Sergeant nodded and replied motioning for Palmer. “Agent, if you will come this way, I’ll take you to him now.”

Palmer checked his watch “That was quick.” He remarked

The sergeant shrugged “Guess his first talk of the day was short.” The NCO surmised.

It was a short walk from the duty hut to the interview room they had Trigger set up in. the sergeant Unlocked the door and walked in with Palmer. As Palmer took his seat, he could see the sergeant looking in frustration at the damaged camera in the corner.

“What happened there?” Palmer asked.

“I didn’t do it.” Trigger bantered.

“Shut up.” Palmer ordered.

The sergeant shook his head “Yeah, damn Camera is busted, someone pulled the coax connector clean off. Give me a sec and I’ll grab another camera.”

“No need.” Palmer dismissed. The airman shrugged and walked out of the room, Palmer pulled out his phone and opened an audio recording app, read Trigger his rights and steepled his fingers staring at the pilot.



“So, before we begin, do you have anything to say for yourself?” Palmer asked.

Trigger shrugged before shaking his head.

Palmer raised an eyebrow “Not saying much.”

“Well you did tell me to shut up. Said I even had a right to.” Trigger replied.

Palmer rolled his eyes “I see you’re just as much of the smartass as you were when we met.”

“Ooh language!” Trigger shot back, Palmer ignored the comment and continued “You know Major, you’re not an easy man to find.”

Trigger smirked “Yeah, I’ve been told that.”

“Mind telling me where you’ve been since May?”

“Like I said to the last girl, I’m not at liberty to say-“ he said before leaning close “You know, ‘If I told you I’d have to kill you.’ Sorta deal.” He whispered.

Palmer stared unamused at the joke “You know threatening a federal agent is a crime.” He said flatly.

“Is being a buzzkill also a crime? Because if so, you’re a guilty man.” Trigger said relaxing back into his chair


Palmer noticed a red mark across Trigger’s face. He motioned towards it

“What about that mark there, where’d you get it.” Palmer asked.

“I slipped and fell into a door. Honest.” Trigger lied.

“Really? Sure no one hit you?” Palmer pressed. Trigger held up his right hand with his Index, middle and ring fingers straight out and his thumb and pinky folded “Scouts honor.”



Palmer glanced at the report he was given about Trigger’s intake. The medical examiner had detailed notes about the various scars that now crossed the pilots body that were not there at the beginning of the year. The doctor remarking at the varying quality of the work and surmised its origins, leading to more questions than answers for the agent.

“What about the surgeries?” Palmer asked.

Trigger thought for a moment “Ya know, I always wanted to have work done, and I just came by some deals that were too hard to pass up.”

Palmer didn’t react, instead steepling his fingers and leaning forward. “Ok Major, It’s time to stop the Bullshit. I’m here for only one reason and I will not, have you wasting any more of my time.” He growled.

Trigger leaned forward, his face getting close to the Agents own. “That goes both ways there buddy.” Trigger growled before leaning back.

Palmer took a moment to quell his growing frustration before leaning back in his chair.



“I should have you know that I’ve pulled some strings given your service record Major. I have a plea deal here, endorsed by the prosecution for your court martial. Max of twenty-five but parolable at ten with good behavior. Death penalty is off the table obviously.” Palmer explained.



Trigger leaned back in his chair and tried to fold his arms; an effort made impossible by his shackles. “Tempting; Do I get to choose which club fed I go to this time? The last one you assholes sent me to kind a sucked. Or maybe can I get a letter of recommendation from the judge and opposing council?” Trigger asked sarcastically, a smile forming across his face.



Palmer frowned. “Trigger, I don’t think you understand the gravity of your situation. I have evidence here implicating you with terrorism, sedition, murder, treason, desertion, and aiding and abetting the enemy. That’s just the stuff we have from your adventure on May seventeenth. After that we know you have had contacts with wanted criminals and fugitives, as well as going on the run yourself. Theres enough here to have you put to death.”



The smile fell from Trigger’s face. He leaned in towards Palmer again, his voice dropping to a low growl.



“Agent. Believe me when I say that I’m probably the only one who understands the gravity of my situation. My fiancé has left me. While I didn’t have much of a family, the ones I do have as well as my only friends think I betrayed them. With my injuries, I will never fly again; And Oh yeah! Even if by some miracle I could be found ‘not guilty’, my career is over regardless, and my life is effectively ruined. So yes Agent, I am more than well aware of the gravity of my situation.” Trigger said before he sighed, shaking his head and leaning back into his chair. “You want the truth Agent?” Trigger asked.



Palmer opened his hands and splayed them out. “Enlighten me Major.”

“The truth is I simply just don’t care anymore. Not about Osea, Not about Usea, Not about my career, where I was for the past seven months – All of it. I simply do not give a shit. So, Agent, you can take your deal and shove it up your ass.” Trigger spat.



Palmer leaned back in his chair, his face showing no expression. “I see” he said simply. He slowly stood up and collected his things.

“Major, I’m not going to lie. I’m disappointed in you. For everything I’ve read in your file, the one thing I took you for was smart. I’m sad to see that is not the case.” He said walking to the door. He rested his hand on the knob and turned over his shoulder to Trigger.

“I’m still going to forward this to your JAG Officer. You have about two days to make your choice.” He said exiting the room.

Chapter 47

FORTY-SEVEN

The evening was unusually cold as the sun started to set. The Marble obelisk in the center of the park glowed dimly, reflecting the golden strand of the elevator that streaked into the sky. Off in the distance, between the buildings, Trigger could see a rainstorm beginning to form in the bay. He was back in Selatapura, and though the city changed little in his absence, He couldn't help but feel nostalgic about his time stationed here.


He took a seat on one of the park benches around the obelisk and looked across to the students leaving the university camp street. No one took notice of the young man leaning on his cane, or the fact that that young man was still a wanted fugitive. Everything for the first time in a long time just felt normal to Trigger. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, the crisp cold air prickling in his lunges but after the humidity of Chopinburg, or the dingy air of Yuktobania, he was glad for it.


"For a wanted terrorist, your pretty calm." Bandog's voice said from his earpiece. The former AWACS had spent the past few days trying to talk Trigger out of his plan to no avail, even providing the arrest warrants that he was to be served, as well as examples of how much time in jail he would be spending – assuming Osea didn't have him put to death immediately. Trigger had shrugged the consequences off and continued to Bandog's dismay, but Trigger had to give the man credit that he was dedicated to watching over him until the final moments.

"Are you going to join me? It's a wonderful day out here." Trigger replied.

"Nah, I'm still wanted by them, so I'll stay nice and cozy right here. Thank you very much." Bandog retorted.

Trigger checked his watch. 1642

He was somewhat surprised. He had expected the authorities to descend on him the moment he had arrived to the plaza but for whatever reason he was still a free man.

"So I've been wondering something, Figured I should ask you before they throw you in some deep dark pit." Bandog started.

"Shoot." Trigger replied.

"The Princess. You made me send a note to her – through unsecured front channels no less – Why?"

Trigger thought for a moment.

"Something tells me you're not going to buy me saying we were just good friends and coworkers right?" Trigger asked Rhetorically.

"Not a chance. Coworkers might send and Email once in a blue moon, or a phone call offer to meet up for beers. This is different. Hell, I expected you to call your Dad before you called her."

Trigger frowned at the comment. As far as he knew, his family still thought he was missing or dead. He couldn't imagine that his note would have been widely circulated. It was a reasonable question to ask, and not one Trigger had a good lie to get around.

Trigger sighed.

"She's special too me." Trigger said simply.

There was a pause.

"Really? Got another lie for me?" Bandog said unbelieving.

Trigger shrugged, though he wasn't sure if Bandog was watching him to see it. "Not a Lie. Cossette is someone special to me. If my gamble is correct, I am special to her to. Simple as that." He said.

There was a laugh on the other end of the radio, but it was quickly stopped.

"You're not joking… are you Trigger?" Bandog asked.

Trigger smirked "Nope. About this time last year in fact was our first date."

There was no reply.

"Hey, Bandog, Is it ok If I make the confessions now? Before I, you know, go to jail most likely?" Trigger asked.

"Confess away my child." Bandog replied in a faux priestly voice.

Trigger took a deep breath.

"We met at the end of November last year, and I guess I made an impression with her. We decided to make it formal right after that, but only Scrap Queen knew about it that I know of. For the next few months Cossette had her government down here. I was living off base by then so we'd meet at my apartment mostly and at least try to act like a normal couple, I'm not really sure how many people recognized us or even cared to be entirely honest. Life was good until around May of last year." Trigger started.

"You mean when the attacks happened?" Bandog asked.

"Ehh, A little before that" Trigger corrected. "The LRSSG received redeployment orders, and the Princess pulled some strings. I think there was some suspicion put towards us, but she made a convincing enough argument to the Brass that I ended up as her Liaison for the Osean Military. Got a free ride out to Farbanti and the whole nine yards. I thought everything was going fine and we were getting more serious about the relationship. I was planning on leaving the Air Force after my contract was up, just so we could be together." Trigger explained.

"What happened?" Bandog asked.

Trigger recoiled at the memory. "I made a bad judgement call. It was after the formal victory ball. I don't know what I didn't notice before hand, or maybe the timing was just off, but, it didn't go the way I planned." He explained.

There was another pause from Bandog "Tough Break. What did you ask, 'Want to cosign on an apartment with me?'" Bandog asked sarcastically. Trigger snarled at the insult for an instant before composing himself. "Truthfully, I asked her to marry me."

"Oh, Well, that's hitting above your weight, even for you."

"tell me about it. I guess I just got so swept up in everything, and well, you know. I thought she was special. I never did get a reason why she said no. Not that I imagine most guys get one to begin with. But dammit, I'd love to ask her just once, what happened? Was I moving too fast? Was it even something I could do? Just tell me." Trigger said, he could feel the emotion welling up in his voice.

Bandog sighed. "Trigger, for what its worth, I've been in your shoes. So believe it or not I know what you're going through."

"Really? There a missus Bandog you were keeping from us?"

"In matter of fact, yes." There was another pause. "I lost her right before April of last year. 18 years gone in an instant."

"Damn, You want to talk about it? You know im here to-" Trigger was cut off.

"Enough, Finish your story. Especially how did you and her end up in McKnight?" Bandog pressed, dodging the question.

Trigger nodded, "Right. That next day Cossette and I were taking part of an inspection of the local Erusean Air Force Base. The Radicals had planned to ambush and kill her there, but I guess they didn't factor my being there. Most of it was a blur, but despite everything I was most concerned about getting her out of harms way. I guess in that way same for everyone else who died buying us time to escape. I flew to McKnight since I figured she was in good hands with the Oseans. At least it appears that I was at least correct slightly."

"Bet you didn't know McKnight just got hit did you. That's why those base rats beat the shit out of you. They probably figured any Erusean was fair game. Lucky for the Princess the rest of the base showed up right after you we're hauled off." Bandog replied.

"Yeah, All I could think about while I was in that hole was her. I was, scared, honestly. But the thought of her in that same situation just pissed me off more. I think it hurt more not knowing if she was safe or not than the actual physical pain."

As Trigger explained himself, he smiled at all the memories that flooded back, both the good and the bad between him and Cossette. He explained about his interaction between Morgan and himself, and the various ways Trigger had tried to keep tabs on how Cossette was doing while being sequestered away in Chopinburg. A flood of painful memories came rushing back when he had accidentally found out about her engagement to another man and how his running off had almost cost Lauren her life. Trigger still hated himself for that outburst. Soon he concluded his story and checked his watch.

1723.

There was nothing said over the radio for a time.

"Well Trigger, that's one hell of story. I think I even believed some of it." Bandog replied. "But even if you're lying, I can tell theres no way to talk you out of this so, just confirms everything I thought about you to be frank."

"Oh and whats that Bandog?" Trigger asked slyly.

"You're a dumbass." Bandog replied sharply. "But as you've proven time and again, even a dumbass can be capable of amazing things."

"That's sweet Bandog, I think that's the closest you've come to complimenting someone."

"Don't press your luck Trigger." Bandog warned.

"I'll keep that in mind." Trigger replied.

Trigger could here some muttering from the other side of the radio. "Looks like our time is finally coming to an end Trigger. Bandit, six o'clock, closing." Bandog advised.

Trigger smirked. "Understood. Hey Bandog, before you go."

"What?"

"Thanks." Trigger said simply before pulling the earpiece out and throwing it onto the path in front of him. He stayed stoic as the sound of rushing footsteps approached.

"Major, I would advise you put your hands up." A voice ordered from behind him. Trigger slowly complied with the mans directions. The voice sounding familiar to him but without being able to turn and face them, Trigger was lost. Uneasily he stood up, a considerable discomfort without the aid of his cane still lying beside him on the bench. More footsteps rushed up around him as someone pulled his arms and forced them into handcuffs.

"Major, I am Special Agent Jeff Palmer of AFOSI. You are suspected of terrorism, sedition, treason, and desertion. I advise you that under the provisions of Article 31, UCMJ, you have the right to remain silent." The Agent's voice trailed off as Trigger lost focus. His time was up. Everything that happened now would be up to a court martial instead of at the barrel of a gun.

Trigger was entirely content with that outcome.

As the Agent finished his script, Trigger couldn't help but chuckle. "What's so funny Major?" the Agent asked annoyed. Trigger shrugged "Déjà vu is all."

Chapter 46

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.