Two years had passed since Andrew and Khalon first flew in the Wings Around the Globe. Andrew had realized that he was better at racing than anything, and decided to change himself to a racer. His paint job resembled a Red Tail and WW2 fighter in tribute and he took on racing, getting his engine tuned and right for the job. He traveled to numerous different races across the world, and entered into the WATG again. He became known world-wide and felt happy with himself finally. He had realized that he didn't like fighting much. He didn't want to hurt anyone. Which was fine to Khalon, considering Khalon didn't like fighting much either, unless he had to. See, Andrew had found out Khalon's true past and even his long-lost father, and yes, Khalon hated fighting and hurting others as well, though he was forced to do it.
Now, Andrew seemed to visit Drake more often now, and would insist Khalon come as well so he wouldn't be lonely on the island. They would go to the familiar bar and hang out, and Andrew thought his life couldn't get any better than this.
The wind pushed and grabbed the flames of the fire. The bright color seemed to struggle against the pitch black sky and the rain threatened to take it out. Two Red Tails surrounded closely around the heat, not minding if the flame got a little too close from the wind.
"I don't think I ever witnessed a bad of storm as this in my life." The elder plane of the two stated.
"I really hope it doesn't get worse, Khalon." The other responded.
"Don't worry, Andrew. The waves don't seem too big yet. It's too dark to fly out in this anyways." Khalon said.
About this time, the fire had become so pathetic, Khalon gave up on it and kicked wet sand on it. "I think the best thing we can do right now is just sleep it off til tomorrow." Andrew agreed and followed the other into the old, creaky, wooden hangar. The two managed to squeeze in and shut the door halfway. Andrew tried his best to get sleep despite the hangar threatening to collapse.
The next morning, Andrew woke up to something extremely cold touching his, landing gear? He opened his eyes and yawned. He looked to the clock on the wall and it read 1:15. Wait, that clock died a long time ago. Andrew finally looked down to see what was touching him and his heart almost stopped. Water. It seemed to be foggy outside from what he could see. The water covered the entirety of his tires. He slid the hangar doors open a little more and stuck his nose out. It was raining, and he saw no traces of sand. The water lapped against the wooden hangar and waves poured in once the doors opened.
"Khalon, Khalon! Wake up!" Andrew shrieked, turning around and nudging the older plane hard with his nose. Khalon sputtered awake and looked to Andrew wearily.
"The island is flooded!"
Khalon's eyes widened and looked to the ground, seeing his tires, also, were submerged in the cold water.
They both exited the hangar and the more they went out, the deeper the water became.
"You leave first, and I'll follow." Khalon instructed over the wind. "Keep the direction of the wind in mind and be aware of your speed."
"Are you sure we can even fly in this?" Andrew asked, starting his engine anyways.
"We have no choice, we gotta try. If the water gets higher, we'll be stuck anyways. Make sure the water doesn't get in the way of your blades. Go!" Khalon backed up so Andrew had as much lift off ground as he needed.
Once Andrew started plowing through the water to lift off, Khalon went and started his engine, at least, tried to. All it did was spin and sputter.
"Damn it!" Khalon exclaimed. Andrew had already lifted off.
Khalon, are you okay?" Andrew asked through the radio.
"Don't come back here!" Khalon responded. "Get away from the storm and get help. My damned engine ain't gonna start anytime soon."
"I'll hurry, please take cover." Andrew responded before hurrying off.
Khalon backed up part way in the hangar and continued to try and start his engine, to no avail. It whirred and sputtered and acted like it would start, but then faltered.
Andrew raced through the air and tried to get above the storm so he was out of danger. He couldn't think of anyone else to go to for help but Ryan. He saw California in the horizon and sped up.
"Ryan, Ryan!" Andrew radioed. "Come in, Ryan!"
A second later. "What is it, Andrew? What's wrong?"
"Khalon needs help! His engine won't start and the island is flooding! I'm about 10 minutes away."
"Okay, I'll get a hold of the Coast Guard and be on my way. Stay in the general area and be ready to lead us there."
Before Andrew knew it, he was leading a Coast Guard Jayhawk and boat to Khalon's location. The copter was trained well in bad weather and high winds and was eager to help.
"Khalon, I'm heading back with help. Are you okay still?" Andrew radioed Khalon.
"Yep, perfectly fine. The water rose higher but not too bad." He responded. The connection was full of static. They entered the storm and heavy winds soon enough and the cold rain began to pour. Nothing could shield them however from the red tail Khalon possessed on the island.
The Sikorsky positioned himself over Khalon and dropped a net mechanism with a pitty to hoist Khalon onto the rescue boat. The water had rose to touch the bottoms of Khalon's wings, and the water submerged part of his tail. The only thing Andrew was most concerned about was why his engine failed to start. Once safe on the boat, they hurried out of the storm and back to California, so Ryan could get a better look at Khalon's engine for what was responsible.