Prologue: Invasion of Seattle

Captain Henry Timmins enjoys his morning coffee with the rest of his air wing, waiting for his designated patrol time in a few hours. His fellow co-pilots sit with him, some just coming back from their sorties, others preparing to head out.

"Seriously, why do we do this? The Americans are covering our asses, why bother even patrolling for Soviet subs?" One of the pilots, just walking into the officer's mess, grumbles after an overnight patrol.

"Hey, Japanese subs took pot shots on North America back during the Second World War" Henry replies, not really understanding why either, considering American naval superiority, on top of Soviet naval incompetence.

"Yeah yeah…" The pilot who just returned, designated to a CP-140 Aurora anti-submarine aircraft, grumbles as he heads for the coffee machine.

"When are we going up, sir?" Hawkeye, or Lieutenant Peter Marino, is curious to their next sortie, rather excited to take an aerial tour of Vancouver from his CF-18 Hornet. The other wingman, Lieutenant Victoria Lynn, or Heartbreak (a callsign she takes pride in, to be sure) nods with Peter, wanting to get her feet off this rather quiet base.

"0700 hours." After answering, he finishes his coffee, wiping his chin with his napkin in case of any overflow. His head turns outside to look at the base outside, CFB Comox, and witnesses the emptiness. Ever since the start of the war, the Department of Defense has been basically shipping this entire base to Britain, and now they're the only three CF-18s left on the west coast, supporting 5 CH-149 Cormorant SAR (search and rescue) helicopters, 2 CC-115 Buffalo SAR aircraft, and 14 CP-140 Auroras. Even most of the navy has been sent to the east coast, patrolling for submarines trying to hit REFORGER convoys leaving Boston and Halifax.

Time flies, and soon enough, all three pilots leave for their aircraft, already fueled and armed for a non-existent threat. Henry climbs into his CF-18, with Heartbreak taking his left flank, and Hawkeye taking the aircraft on his right. After going through the safety checks and warm up, they all slowly wheel towards the main runway.

"Redcoat, this is CFB Comox Tower, you are cleared for takeoff"

"Tower, this is Redcoat, see you soon." The single jet engine warms up, with the wingmen to the left and right of him on the large runway, and in an instant, all three speed along the runway, taking off near the end.

"Beautiful takeoff Redcoat, see you in a few hours." Redcoat, or Henry, confirms the tower, and speeds south towards Vancouver, hoping to maybe give some civilians a rude awakening.

An hour passes, and after an uneventful flight over the picturesque British Columbian countryside, the edges of Vancouver's northern suburbs come into view.

"We're here, you guys. So…now what?" Heartbreak grumbles, rather wishing she was picked to be sent off to the United Kingdom like the rest of her squad mates.

"We patrol and then head back home." Redcoat answers, looking around to make sure his wingmen are still following him. Well, at least they're not trying to fly towards the Soviet Union. That's a relief at least.

"Seriously, why bother? The Soviets need to break through Hawaii first, and we all know the Soviet surface fleet is in horrible shape."

"Yeah yeah…wait, hold on we're getting a message on an emergency frequency." Redcoat puts the message through to his wing mates as well, even if it's probably just some US F-15 with engine troubles.

"This is the Washington Army National Guard post at Seattle! We're under attack from unknown Soviet forces! *Static* Requesting any and all assistance!"

All three of their faces were filled with shock, and Hawkeye interrupts the broadcast. "Holy fuck, is this real?" Without answering, Redcoat puts the emergency message back onto their radio frequency.

"…Massive invasion occurring through freighters. I repeat! Enemy forces deploying through disguised merchant ships! Can't hold docks! Requesting any air support!"

"What do we do, sir?" Heartbreak asks her commanding officer, and for a second, receives no reply, but…only for a second.

"We help them, and we kill as many of those bastards as we can." Henry growls, and his fellow pilots confirm.

The three pilots accelerate to Mach 1.8, pushing their aircrafts to their limits as they move south to assist their NORAD ally. Within a few minutes, they cross US-Canada border, moving as fast as they can to Seattle Harbor.

"Over the clouds!" Redcoat calls out, pulling his aircraft up to make sure no Soviet aircraft make a surprise attack. However, the skies are seemingly clear of any MiGs, but rather Soviet transport aircraft, and one very noticeable AWAC aircraft that is over the city.

"This fucker is mine, you two take out as many container ships as you can!"

"Roger that, good luck Redcoat." Both of his wingmen go through the clouds, hunting for ground targets, and providing support, while Redcoat sets his sight for the large white AWAC, knowing it needs to go down.

Slowing down, he moves his CF-18 perpendicular to the AWAC. The Soviet aircraft as no chance to move away as the Hornet fires its single Vulcan cannon. The 20mm rounds pierce through the paper thin armor of the enemy, watching as the aircraft becomes a giant fireball descending upon the city below. As it breaks through the clouds, Redcoat follows it down, watching his prey fall apart. The AWAC shatters as it slams into a highway overpass, its scattered remains resting upon a railway track near a large stadium.

"Hey, isn't that the King Dome?" Redcoat asks, and Hawkeye responds quickly.

"The one along the docks? Yeah! I've even been there a few times for a game."

Heartbreak dives down towards a freighter moving towards one of the piers, at a 30 degree angle. The aircraft quickly launches a series of rockets into its side, ripping through the thick hull of the cargo ship. The ship lists to its side, flipping over much faster than anybody expected, and it begins to sink, hopefully with all hands aboard.

"See you in hell you Commie coward." Heartbreak mutters over the radio, her voice lacking any emotion or sympathy.

"To allied aircraft overhead, identify yourselves?" A near panicked voice calls over the radio, different from the one that sent out the emergency broadcast.

"This is Captain Henry Timmins of the Canadian Forces, callsign Redcoat. You are?"

"This is Captain Bannon on the United States Army…what the hell are you seeing up there!" His voice is filled with anxiety and fear….a rookie maybe? Redcoat shrugs as he keeps hunting the skies, taking aim upon a paratrooper aircraft.

"We're seeing large numbers of Soviet ships, mostly merchant ships, unloading at the docks, while I have no idea where these aircraft are coming from."

"Provide any support if you can!" The radio cuts with static and the three pilots begin reengaging.

Redcoat flies high above any anti-aircraft artillery's reach, seeing that a scout helicopter gets ripped to shreds as it approaches the docks. Redcoat moves down, diving upon the major marshalling point of a Soviet armor force, and his entire rocket reserve, along with a M82 500 pound bomb releases upon the Soviets, and tanks start to explode like firecrackers.

As the battle continues for hours, the three pilots continue to ravage whatever Commie they can set their sights on, with Heartbreak the most reckless, accounting for the most damage and kills out of all of them.

It's almost noon hour, and the aircraft is just about to hit bingo fuel. "Shit….you guys, we're going to have to head back." Heartbreak grumbles, her bloodlust still not satisfied, no matter how many kills she gets, while Hawkeye seems to be ready to head back home.

"Holy shit…" Hawkeye calls out, as he watches what looks like some Soviet artillery barrage tear the King Dome apart. All three pilots watch as the green stadium slowly collapses, disappearing into a giant pile of rubble.

"Alright, you guys, let's head home." Redcoat tells them softly, rather disappointed his fuel isn't lasting any longer. "We're no good here anymore, but we did the best we can, maybe we saved a few lives down there."

"To any American aircraft needing safe haven, follow us north towards Vancouver International or, if you have the fuel, our base at CFB Comox. Seattle is lost, but we're going to need as much support as humanly possible for what's to come."