Angels and Demons
Prologue: Life is Strange
I remembered this one day in home room from when I was in high school. For some reason, it stuck in my mind and I kept thinking about it as I ran for my life through a gloomy forest in Estovakia while the rain poured around me. We were talking about our hopes and aspirations for the future and my teacher said that our dreams were the only driving force that compelled us to continue on with our lives so that we could be happy. However, my school was full of negative people and one of them retorted with something I would never forget. What's the point of having dreams if they're only going to get crushed in the end? As pessimistic as I was at that point in my life, I would've agreed with her until I got a little bit older and wiser. But now, I was beginning to think that she was right.
Saturday, March 9, 2014, 1229hrs Wesson, Osea
I thought it was rather funny for it to actually rain during a funeral because I'd seen it in so many movies and TV shows. Normally people would've held a funeral for their loved ones on a clear day, but I guess the angels thought that the death of my best friend was rather sad even though everyone knew him as 'that bastard'. But to me, he was the closest thing I had to a guardian angel. Whether I'd look up at him from hell, look down on him from heaven, or join him in either place was something that remained to be seen, but I wish he could've stuck around a little bit longer.
When the service was over, everyone said their final farewells and left while I continued to sit in the pouring rain, looking over the tombstone of Major General Nathan S. Harkin. I never thought I'd see the day that he'd be laid to rest beside his wife Isabel Lira. Buried on the other side of him was Miranda Stinson, and next to her were Antonio Castillo and his wife, Naomi Kobayashi. Seeing all five of them like this wasn't easy, especially for their last remaining family member, Amanda Castillo. She had left a while ago without me saying anything to her and I regretted it ever since.
The rain still hadn't let up after fifteen minutes and I was still sitting there looking over the five tombstones. Antonio and his wife were assassinated in their home, Miranda was murdered, Nathan was KIA (killed in action), and Isabel died from breast cancer. Life sure had a funny way of ending, and I guess that's what I was thinking about this whole time. That was until I couldn't feel the rain on me anymore. When I looked behind me, my pregnant wife was holding an umbrella over my head. She knew how bothered I was by all of this and I appreciated her for waiting for me.
"Do you still need more time?" she asked softly.
"No, I'm not going to keep you waiting any longer," I told her as I got out of my seat. "Are you okay?"
My wife nodded and I took her hand while we walked back towards our car to head home. I didn't want to spend all day in a graveyard and I now wanted to get out of my wet clothes. However, as we got closer to my car, my wife suddenly collapsed to her hands and knees while she held her belly. She was going into labor and I tried helping her back up so that I could take her to the hospital, but we wouldn't make it in time. I quickly called an ambulance and told them the situation before I helped my wife into the back seat of my car.
"She's coming! I don't think they'll make it here in time," said my wife.
I didn't know what to do at this point. My daughter was on her way and I had never delivered a baby before. Luckily, a woman who was passing by had noticed what was going on and she quickly ran over to help. She laid my wife in the back seat of my car and got her undressed so that she could deliver my child. I got in the front seat and held my wife's hand as tightly as I could while she continued to breathe heavily. It was ten minutes before she began to scream in pain.
"What's your name?" asked the woman.
"Brenda," said my wife.
"Alright, Brenda, I just need you to keep breathing. What's your name?" the woman asked me.
"Aaron," I told her.
"Alright, Aaron, do you have any clean towels or blankets in here?"
I quickly popped the trunk of my car to get the first aid kit I kept in there and got several sterilized cloths for my wife. The woman continued to talk with her and I held her hand through the entire process. Hearing my wife scream in pain like this was a first, but it ended once I saw the woman holding my daughter. Tears began to roll down my cheeks at the sight of her and I moved in to get a better look, but the woman had a worried look on her face.
"She's not breathing," she said.
My wife gasped and I felt her hand slip from mine. I quickly went over to my daughter and took her from the woman's arms so that I could hold her. No one knew what to do and I tried clearing her airway with my finger, but it didn't do anything and neither did patting her back.
"Aaron… I'm so sorry…" said the woman.
To think that my daughter would die before she could even begin her life was devastating, but I refused to believe that she'd give up that easily. However, the kind of life I led would no doubt be hard on her and it would only be a matter of time before she was drawn into it. I sat next to my wife and we both held our child's hand as we huddled closely together.
"This life you were born into is plagued with battles you must fight. You are my daughter, and this is your first battle. So fight," I whispered.
Friday April 2, 2014 1403hrs, Macon, Osea
My wife was sitting alone in our back yard, looking over the city from the hill we lived on. Ever since we found out our child was stillborn, we didn't know how we were going to carry on with our lives after such a tragic day. Our child was the reason we decided to retire from the military and live normal lives, but now we didn't know what to do. Neither of us had spoken much since that day, but we didn't distance ourselves from each other. We didn't know what to talk about anymore. While she sat out there, I made her a glass of green tea and set it on the table next to her. She didn't say anything to me, but I know she appreciated it. The last thing I did was gently place my hand on her shoulder and look out over the city with her. The moment didn't last long because our doorbell rung and I went inside to answer it. When I opened the door, I saw that it was Amy Abrams and one of her body guards.
Amy was the Director of a secret international peacekeeping organization called the IOSS (International Office of Strategic Services). Their primary purpose was to counter the shadow organization called the Grey Men. This group had a secret agenda that benefited humanity's home planet, Earth, after it had been devastated by fragments of the Ulysses asteroids. Our planet, Strangereal, was devastated as well, but not as badly as Earth. Only a couple of countries were hit by the meteor fragments, but their infrastructures had been devastated. The Grey Men wanted our planet's resources to benefit Earth, but our planet has refused to aid them due to their numerous attempts to unify humanity when in reality they just wanted to dictate our lives.
My wife and I were part of a special unit within IOSS called the RSOG (Razgriz Special Operations Group). Most of the operatives didn't know it was part of IOSS, but it was an international peacekeeping initiative with Yuktobania and Osea heading it. My wife had been on maternity leave and I had just returned from Estovakia near the beginning of last month after Major General Harkin was killed. I was given some time off to recover from that mission, but having the director show up on my doorstep was a dead giveaway that I was being called back to work.
"Can I help you, Director?" I asked.
"We've had a serious development in Estovakia that requires our immediate attention," she said as she barged into my house with her body guard. The Director sat down on the sofa and I could only give her an annoyed glare. "Where's your wife? She needs to hear this too."
"You can't be serious. You want us to come back this soon after what happened?" I asked highly annoyed.
"I know the past couple months haven't exactly been easy for the both of you, but we need you."
"Get someone else to do it this time. I'm not ready to go back out there and neither is she!"
"You don't have much of a choice," said the Director and she threw a tan envelop on the coffee table. The look on her face told me that I should look at what was in there. When I did, I felt as though she was screwing with me. "You know I assign one last assignment to everyone who wishes to retire, which is why I've assigned you the simplest variation of this mission."
My assignment was to train several fighter groups in Emmeria during a year long stint. The whole point of this was to strengthen their air force in the event of an enemy attack. After my assignment was over, I was free to retire. "I feel like you know something bad is about to happen over there," I said as I glared at her.
"I know the situation for their neighbors is only getting worse, but we're optimistic now that the civil war is over. Things are on the mend right now and this assignment will end before it can become a problem," said the Director. "Look, I know your assignment in Estovakia didn't go exactly as we'd hoped and I'm sorry I couldn't have given you more information before you headed in to defuse the situation. I'm sorry you've had a rough few months and I don't want to put you through anymore grief, but this is the last assignment I need you to do before I never ask you or your wife for anything ever again." Even though I wanted to retire and live a quiet life with my wife, this new assignment would've been the perfect distraction and a chance to do something relaxing for once. The only problem now was convincing my wife to come with me, but I wasn't sure if she'd be up for it. "You and your wife have forty-eight hours to make your decision."
The Director and her bodyguard got up and left the house and I began to look over the assignment again. I had this feeling in my gut that taking this assignment would be a hell of a lot worse if I didn't. If anything, I would've accepted this assignment on my own, but I was married after all. My wife was still sitting quietly in the back yard and I could only wonder what she was thinking about at this point.
Even though I was outside during the Director's visit, I could hear everything that they were talking about. My husband had been through a lot within the past few months and I was extremely worried about him. Major General Harkin's death was especially hard on him. Adding my stillbirth to that and I began to worry even more about my husband's wellbeing. Taking this assignment in Emmeria would've been good for him because he always talked about visiting Gracemeria to complete his doctorate in archeology and it would've been a great distraction. I sat in my chair for ten more minutes before I got up to head inside of the house. My husband was sitting on the sofa in our living room and he tried hiding the assignment envelope behind his back. This was a sure sign that he was considering this assignment.
"Who was at the door?" I asked.
"Just the mail man," he shrugged.
"What did he deliver?" My husband tried thinking of a clever excuse, but he knew that I knew it wasn't any use trying to hide the envelope from me. He sighed before he handed it to me and I opened it to see what the assignment was. I quickly read the file before I looked at my husband with concern and he broke eye contact with me. "What are you going to do?"
"I don't know," he muttered as he rubbed the back of his neck. He was deeply conflicted about this assignment and I assumed that it was because he was trying to take into account how I'd feel about this decision along with his personal feelings. "What do you think I should do?"
I want you to take me with you. "Should we really be headed back to work this soon?" I asked sincerely.
"…it would be a nice distraction," he replied and he braced himself for my rebuttal.
"…I think so too," I said softly. As much as I didn't want to dwell on the past, we still had a responsibility to carry on. "I know it seems kind of heartless for us to continue on with our lives after all of that's happened, but we can't mope around forever."
My husband lowered his gaze and I began to think that I said something I shouldn't have. I thought he would walk away from me and head off towards his den, but he pulled me in for a hug. He embraced me tightly and it took me a second to realize that he wasn't mad. I wrapped my arms around him and breathed a sigh of relief, knowing that we could continue on with our lives.
"We're going to Emmeria?" I asked to make certain of his intentions.
"We're going to Emmeria," he replied.
Thursday, 24, 2014 0951hrs, Fuscum Sea
We got in contact with Director Abrams after her visit to our house in Osea and told her that I'd accept her assignment on the condition that my wife could come along as my adjutant. It wasn't something I wanted, but my wife wanted to stick with me to 'keep me sane'. I got the feeling that she just wanted to spend more time together which was fine by me because I hadn't seen a lot of her within the past few months. Anyways, the Director assigned me an F-15E Strike Eagle that I personally modified with the help of IOSS's best engineer, Ricardo Quesada. Anyone could swear that he'd be able to make a biplane go supersonic if he had the time. He gave the engines a higher thrust output and enhanced the maneuverability dramatically using weight reduction methods he developed personally.
The icing on the cake was the special armament that he was able to equip it with. Ever since few years ago, a special technology became widely known to the world that allowed for the storage of large quantities within small spaces, but it was only available to the military and certain government agencies. One of its uses was the storage of large amounts of ordinance on aircraft. The pylons on my plane would replenish missiles or bombs, depending on what the pylon was carrying, after the weapon had been fired. The pylons only held a limited supply of weapons, but it was a lot more than what they used to be capable of. Apart from that, IOSS engineers had managed to scale this technology down to the size of a wrist watch and each IOSS field operative was allowed one. It could hold up to one cubic meter of free space that would decrease depending on the total volume of the items stored in them. We called these things MSs (Magic Satchels) because they reminded us of an animation technique that we usually saw in cartoons and video games. Mine only contained my ACR rifle, custom M9, a couple of choice melee weapons, some MREs (Meals Ready to Eat), and my car keys. My wife had one as well, but I didn't know what else she kept in there other than her sidearm.
Anyways, we were approaching Gracemeria and we began sending our radio traffic to Gracemeria Air Force Base to let them know we were coming. Our instructor call sign for this assignment was Garuda 1, but it wasn't like I had a choice. My personal call sign was Talisman, which was given to me by my wife when she found out I kept one from an archeological dig I was a part of last year. The talisman in question had a female angel engraved on it, posing with a sword and shield. My wife, Charm as I liked to call her, thought it would be a good idea to bring it with me and present it to the Golden King that was known all throughout Emmeria.
The story of the Golden King dates back approximately 2,000 years. It was said that he wasn't known for his size, but for his kind and gentle nature along with the compensation of his gold suit of armor. The legends about him said that the sight of him was so intimidating that his enemies bowed before him before they ever fought. Normally I'd find stories like that hard to believe, but I've seen similar occurrences in my line of work. The Gold King was a sight that I was really looking forward too, but so was the King's Bridge that Gracemeria was famous for. And soon, I'd be able to scratch a couple more things off my bucket list and fulfill a promise I made in the past.
The view of the city was blocked by a large cloud and we couldn't see the city yet. It didn't take long for us to break through it and see the city of Gracemeria for the first time ever. It was an amazing sight. The city was vast and I couldn't see anything other than a sprawling metropolis. As much as I wanted to take in the view for a little while longer, I couldn't. ATC (Air Traffic Control) directed me to a specified vector so that I could head towards the air force base.
"Garuda 1, you are clear to land," said the Air Force Base's control tower.
I began my landing preparations and eased back down onto the ground. For the next year, we'd be stationed here to train these Emmerian pilots. We got out of our plane after I parked on the flight line and we were greeted by the crew chief in charge of my plane. He was a Technical Sergeant who looked like he didn't take shit from anyone. Unfortunately for him, neither did I.
"Welcome to Gracemeria, Sir. I was wondering when I'd get my new bird," he said.
"'Your bird', eh," I replied and the Chief mechanic gave me a smug look. "Alright, I was losing thrust in engine 2 halfway here. See what you can do with her," I said and walked off to report to the base commander's office with my wife.
When we got to his office, he told my wife to wait outside while he spoke to me alone. Even though she was just as much a part of this assignment as I was, he still ordered her to leave.
"Lt. Colonel Aaron 'Talisman' Driver; you're a member of the Razgriz Special Operation Group, originally a Marine in Osean Maritime Defense Force, and twice decorated. You've made quite a name for yourself throughout your career. I'm amazed to see someone so young to hold the rank of Lt. Colonel, no offense. You were highly requested by the Emmerian Defense Administration to help train some of our pilots to strengthen our air force. That being said, I'm expecting great things from you. You're authorized to use whatever means necessary to whip these men and women into shape," said the base commander.
"Sir, I'm aware that you're looking for results, but I've never formally trained anyone before," I said.
"I know, but you came highly recommended for the job considering that you were one of the best in your class. There is no right or wrong way for you to do this, but I trust you to at least make an impression on not just the pilots, but the rest of the base personnel as well. I'll do whatever I can to help you just as long as you don't overdo it on them."
I acknowledged the base commander and left his office while I thought hard about his words. The way he spoke to me was rather unsettling. He authorized the use of any training method that I wanted in the hopes that I would be able to drastically improve the quality of his pilots. Every air force in the world always stuck to a strict training regimen. And to allow me any training method went to show just how desperate he was for results. Already, I was beginning to feel as though I was going to be pulled back into another war, but at least this time I'd know the reason behind it. With nothing else to do and nothing to look forward too, I went to the hangars to meet up with my wife so that we could head off base and check out the house IOSS had set us up with.
I left the base commander's office while he spoke to my husband and headed off towards the hangars to check on the chief mechanic. As I made it back onto the flight line, I took a look at the surrounding area. Already this place seemed like a step up from Osea and I could see why one of my best friends had always wanted to come here.
"The crew chief didn't know what to do. He was saying he'd never seen a propulsion system like that in a Strike Eagle before."
I looked further down the flight line and noticed a group of pilots talking to each other between two of the hangars. They were Ensigns and Lieutenants and I assumed that they were going to be part of the training class. I got a little curious as to where their conversation was going and I decided to get closer to eavesdrop on them.
"Yeah, that plane belongs to Lt. Colonel Driver. Apparently, he's going to be training us for the next year."
"Well, if his adjutant is easy, then this will be too."
"Yeah, well, we're shit out of luck because I know his adjutant. It's Yamada."
"Yamada, sounds like some kind of low end car manufacture."
"Yeah, well, let me tell you about 'em. I was in the second month of my RSOG candidacy before I dropped out when we were going over hand to hand combat drills. And the squadron CO was this nasty-ass looking bird; all scarred up and mean-looking as all hell. Then one day, our new hand-to-hand instructor starts calling for anyone who'd like to go a couple rounds with him to see if anyone knew how to actually fight. Several of the other candidates decide to challenge him and they get their asses handed to them on gold platters. I'm talking fractured bones, torn ligaments, and concussions. So when the CO got wind of this, they stepped in the ring and they're just standing there like the instructor ain't shit. The instructor doesn't like that and decides to go on the offensive first. He only threw one punch before the CO put him on the ground with a broken leg and fractured wrist. After that, he kicked the instructor hard enough in the rib cage to break three bones."
"That was Yamada?"
"No, that was Major Becket."
"What the hell does that have to do with Yamada?"
"Because Yamada was Becket's instructor, and Lt. Colonel Yamada put Becket into a weeklong coma."
"It was two weeks actually," I said as I revealed myself to the group of pilots, but they all just gave me quizzical looks. "I put him in a coma for two weeks after he got tired of taking orders from a woman. Speaking of which, are we going to have a problem maintaining discipline here?" I asked and the whole lot of them snapped to attention when they noticed my rank.
"No ma'am," they all said in unison.
"Good, as you were," I said and I headed back to our plane's hangar. The crew chief was at his work bench looking over every manual he had on jet engines and it was obvious that he was frustrated. "Problem, Tech Sergeant?" I asked and he looked back at me.
"Ma'am, I'm pretty good at what I do and I've been turning wrenches ever since I was five, but I don't know what the hell you brought me today. No disrespect, ma'am, but how the hell am I supposed to work on this plane if I have no idea how I'm going to fix it?"
"What's the matter? I thought this was 'your bird'?" I asked sarcastically to which the Tech Sergeant glared at me. "You see, this was and never will be 'yours'. Once you understand that, we'll train you on how to repair and maintain her, you got that?"
"Yes, ma'am," he replied and I walked away. "Lt. Colonel, how do I fix the thrust problem you two were having?"
"There never was one."
1659hrs, Gracemeria, Emmeria
We arrived outside our house that we were assigned by IOSS, but it turned out to be a three bedroom house on the other side of the bay. It was a cozy looking place and the neighborhood seemed rather typical for the ideal suburban life style. Anyways, we headed inside the house and took a look around until we met back up in the kitchen. On the table was a wrapped packages address to me, and my wife didn't know what to make of it.
"You should probably open it," she said.
"It could be rigged," I protested.
"Just poke it with the broom if you're so paranoid." I gave my wife an annoyed look before I carefully picked up the package and examined it. It didn't seem like it was dangerous, so that was a plus. I carefully opened the box to see that it contained a hard cover book placed on top of a stained wooden box. There was also a folded note in there as well. "What does it say?"
These were the Generals two personal belongings that he left for his son in his will. I figured you deserved them more. Take care of yourself out there.
-Amy
I placed the note on the table and took the book in my hands. The first page contained General Harkin's old home address written in his hand writing and I turned the page to see even more of his penmanship.
To my son who I loved so very much,
If you're reading this, then chances are that I'm finally gone. I know I wasn't the best father to you and I know that you'll probably never forgive me for not being completely honest with you, but I tried my best. I never wanted you to hate me for any of the things I've done and everything else I've forced onto you, but it happened anyways. This is just one of the many journals that I kept with me and I tried finding the right time to tell you the real story as to why things turned out the way they did. I just hope that you understand and that you could find it in your heart to forgive me.
General Harkin never really spoke about his son for some reason. What's more I've never even seen him before, not even in a picture. I guess things must've been bad between them if they never tried making amends. In spite of this, I turned to the first journal entry out of curiosity and began to read.
Friday, March 22, 1995 1256hrs, Pike, Osea
"Harkin, the Colonel wants to see you in his office. It doesn't sound good," said my friend, Eric Barlowe.
"Is it about me buzzing the tower the other day?" I asked.
"Hell if I know. Maybe your request to transfer out of here was granted."
"Yeah, well, here's hoping."
I was in the hangar tuning my F-15C for my hop tomorrow. After all of the intensive flying I put that baby through, I figured that she was due for an upgrade. The base was pretty busy today considering that the Belkans were making some pretty large advances in the northern part of Osea to reclaim their lost territory.
In 1988, Belka was suffering economic strife and allowed its eastern territory to secede in the hopes that it would relieve some of the burden it was under and the Republic of Ustio was created. To make matters even worse, our power-hungry, sack of shit Osean government took advantage of the situation and claimed some of Belka's remaining territory for its own. But by that time, Belka entered a state of economic panic and an extreme right-wing party took control of Belka's government in the hopes of sustaining power to the region. Everything looked like it had finally settled down in Belka. But when Ustio had discovered an abundance of natural resources, Belka began to invade its neighbors. Only two days had passed since war was declared, but they had gained a lot of ground.
When I heard the news, I was eager to get out there and fly some more combat missions. I had already seen a little action back on Earth during the Gulf War, but I couldn't get enough of it. I had never gotten a kill under my belt, but everyone I flew with knew I was hungry for action. This was the reason I put in for a transfer to the front lines. I was a brash and arrogant first lieutenant who had never seen the true reality of war. When the Belkan war began, Ustio had begun asking for anyone who could help aid their military and even began outsourcing jobs for fighter pilots. When I heard about this, I quickly requested to be sent to the front lines. If I wanted to see action, that was the place to be.
I reported to the base commander's office and presented myself. The base commander wasn't too thrilled to see me because I had a habit of pissing people off because I felt like they didn't know what it was like for a maverick like me to be grounded as often as I was.
"Reporting as ordered, sir," I said in a bored tone as I locked eyes with my superior as he sat in his desk.
"Lieutenant, you're making it a habit of pissing people off to get you point across," he said.
"I'm glad people are starting to notice."
"I'm glad too, because I now have all I need to kick your sorry ass out of the military," said the base commander.
"Wait, what?!" I exclaimed in disbelief.
"I don't see why you're surprised," he replied as he began to look over my file. "Giving alcohol to under-aged Marines, aiding and abetting an Airman trying to avoid an NJP (Non-Judicial Punishment), flying while intoxicated, fraternization with an NCO-"
"That charge was bullshit! Perrault sent me and Sergeant Lira to the armory under orders from Major Strauss and he admitted that he never told Perrault to relay any orders like that," I protested.
"Nevertheless, you still abandoned your post. Add all of the stunts you've pulled while you were out on hop and you've got yourself quite the record for a reckless son-of-a-bitch who endangers the lives of his comrades. I would've given you more NJPs, but it seems that the first two weren't enough, so what other course of action should I take?" asked the base commander.
Anyone in my position would've tried begging for another chance, but we both knew that I was going to screw up again if I was given the chance to redeem myself. But seeing as how sick he was of having me around, I knew I could get him to give me what I wanted. However, I knew that I was taking a big risk if I was going to have the best chance of keeping my wings.
"You could give me what I want and send me to the front lines," I shrugged.
"Give me one good reason as to why in the hell I would do that."
"Sir, the Belkans have already taken over Wesson within the span of a few days due to the fact that no one has been able to stand against the Belkan Air Force and they're only going to gain more ground with each passing day. If they managed to penetrate this far into Osea, imagine how far they've gotten into Ustio by now."
"What's your point, Lieutenant?"
"My point is that once the Belkan's gain control of Ustio's resources, they'll be no stopping them from getting further inside Osea. They need pilots, sir, and I'm itching to see some action."
"But what's to stop me from just discharging you right now?"
"I'll still be alive and I'll still be here in the city so that I can harass you. If you sent me to the frontlines, let's say Ustio for example, I have a high chance of dying in combat and you'll never have to see me again. It's a win-win for both of us, sir. I know you can't stand me, so why not just grant me my death wish?"
The base commander just glared at me for a good few seconds before he gave me an evil grin and relented to my request. He approved my transfer to Ustio and I would be flying as a mercenary for Ustio's Air Force. When I was dismissed, I headed off base and drove to see a very good friend of mine. Her name was Isabel Lira and we both had a history together. When I told her that I was headed off to the frontlines, she wasn't too thrilled.
"Why would you request a transfer to the western front?"
"Come on, Lily, this is me we're talking about," I told her.
"They aren't pushovers like some of the other countries you've fought, Nate. These are highly skilled soldiers and pilots."
"Why do you even care so much about where I go? Am I your only friend or is there something that you want to say but can't because you're married?"
I didn't know why Lily was so mad at me. I thought she'd be excited to hear that I was finally getting what I wanted. She and I dated while we were in high school because she loved the idea of a bad boy like me trying to take on the world. The only reason as to why I became a Marine was because I figured that it would be my stepping stone to a path towards greatness. The feeling of a guy like me in his prime with nothing to lose was part of what drove me towards the idea of glory. Everyone except for my new wife, Elizabeth, pretty much hated my guts including Barlowe, but he wouldn't admit it until much later.
"Just go," she said and she slammed the door in my face.
I shrugged off her words and began to head back to my car when a school bus rolled up at the end of the drive way. When the door opened, a group of kids got off. I only knew two of them out of the five that were there. One of them was Lily's oldest daughter, Adrian, and the other was her oldest son, Antonio. Adrian never really talked to me all that much and I got the feeling that she hated me for some reason. But Antonio, or Kid as I liked to call him, loved it when I came by to visit. However, when he got off the bus, he looked like his dog had just died.
"Hey, Kid, you okay?" I asked him while his sister brushed past me. Kid could only shake his head at me and avoid making eye contact. "Hey, what's wrong?" I asked and he held up a tan envelop to me. As soon as I saw it, I knew that it was his report card.
"I got all Cs, Ds, and Fs," he muttered and he sank down to the ground.
Kid wasn't lying when he told me about his grades and I knew that his dad was going to rain hell down on him. His dad, Frank, wasn't exactly the most easy going guy I knew which was why I worried about Kid a lot. Kid told me about this time he got beat for failing to find a hair brush to comb his medium regulation haircut his dad forced on him. If anything, I felt bad for him because I wouldn't have wanted a father like his.
"It says you haven't been doing your homework. Why not," I asked.
"Because I don't understand it," he muttered. "Every time I ask my dad for help, he always tells me that he's busy when he's playing on his computer and mom is always busy making dinner and cleaning. Adrian keeps teasing me and calling me stupid because I can't do anything right."
The more Kid told me about his problems, the more I just wanted to slap some sense into everyone. It wasn't just because I felt sorry for him, but it was also because I saw a lot of myself in him. Having the whole world reject you wasn't something any child should have to deal with. Otherwise they'd turn out like I did; doing anything they wanted because they knew that everyone already didn't give a rat's ass about them. Seeing Kid cry in the driveway was what motivated me to make him a promise.
"Hey now, don't cry," I told Kid as I sat down next to him. "Everything's going to be alright."
"No it's not. Dad's going to beat me and I'm going to get grounded again," he cried.
"Being grounded isn't all that bad. It gives you a lot of time to think. It's kinda like prison for kids, minus a lot of the bad stuff."
Why did I ever tell him that?
"What kind of bad stuff?"
"That's not important. Anyways, whenever I got grounded when I was a kid, I would read a lot. Airplane books were my favorite," I told him.
"Like Sky Kid?" he asked referring to the children's book
"Not exactly," I said rubbing the back of my neck and I pulled out a book I kept in my flight suit. "Here, I want you to have this. It's my favorite book."
"Sam-uh-rah-eye… Samurai, what's it about?" asked Kid as he took the book.
"It's about the most famous Japanese fighter pilot of World War II. It might be a little difficult for you to read, but I'm sure you'll get the hang of it. Read it while you're grounded and you might learn something. Anyways, Kid, I have to go. Keep your head up and maybe one day you'll become a better pilot than me," I said and I headed back to my car.
Kid just looked at me in confusion as I drove off. Seeing my best friend's son in a constant state of misery really bothered me. Not only did it hit me on a personal level, but I knew that anyone in their right mind would say something regarding his upbringing. When I was growing up, I never had a real father. Mom raised me by herself until I was eight and then she gave me to an orphanage. I didn't mind it because she kept jumping from one guy to the next, each one even worse than the last. Aside from that, growing up in Texas until I was old enough to enlist in the military wasn't so bad. I made the best of it and earned money playing the guitar at a local pub. Most of the regulars were Mexican and they really enjoyed the way I played. Having a fondness for Latino culture really benefitted me in the long run in becoming quite the ladies' man.
Joining the military to find adventure and experience the thrill of war was the only way to take my mind off of everything. Of all the women I've become involved with, Lily was the one I never really got over. Frank didn't deserve a woman like her. Her concern for me as I went off to Ustio was one of the main things that drove me to come back alive. I don't know what awaited me out there in the hostile skies of Ustio, but I get this feeling that it's going to be harder than I thought. Only time will tell if I'm right or not.
Thursday, July 30, 2015 1720hrs, Gracemeria, Emmeria
Seeing that I was left with the Generals personal journal felt like hitting the jackpot in a way. Out of all the time that I've l known him, he never spoke much about himself. No one really knew anything about who he really was. I set his journal down and took the wooden box out and set it on the table. When I opened it, I saw that it was General Harkin's custom M1911. It had an under barrel rail for his gun mounted flashlight and a threaded barrel for his suppressor. General Harkin always carried it with him and he never let anyone else touch it, but now it was in my possession.
"They gave you his gun?" my wife asked and I nodded. "Hmm, I wonder why he was always so protective of it."
"Me too, but I get the feeling I'll find out soon enough," I said referring to his journal. "Anyways, are you hungry?"
My wife nodded and I put the General's things in my nightstand. We ordered pizza for dinner and spent the rest of the night lying in a hammock in the backyard, cuddled up together while we gazed at the stars. This was the most intimate we've gotten since the beginning of the month, but I wasn't complaining.
"How do you feel now that we're here on this assignment?" I asked my wife.
"I feel kind of relieved to be honest," she said softly and I looked at her. "After the stillbirth, the General's death, and you getting shot down in Estovakia, I'm just glad that you haven't let it get to you as much as I thought it would."
"…yeah, I know what you mean. But you don't need to worry about me for now. I'll let you know if the stress starts to add up," I said my wife's hold on me tightened.
My wife was the only person I had left in my life whom I could tell anything too. She and I had been through hell together countless times and neither of us saw that changing in the future. However, we weren't too excited about training the Emmerian pilots over the weekend.