Disclaimer: Ace Combat series is property of Namco and its associates. All official, er, stuff n things featured in this story are properties of their respective owners.
The Pain You Gave
Five years ago
December 31, 2010
Oured Bay, Osea
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"70 seconds left, Captain!" shouted Archer, reminding his flight lead that the SOLG satellite cannon would enter jet aircraft interception range in little more than one minute.
Jet contrails - curving and twisting within one another against the backdrop of the rising sun - painted a chaotic but mesmerizing picture.
"Go, three of you, go!" Blaze ordered as he chased a Su-47 Berkut turning hard to the right.
"But these are Ofnirs and Grabacrs. That's why it took us so long to get rid of them. You can't take 4 Su-47s alone" Swordsman objected.
"And you can't take down SOLG with the armament of just two planes" the Razgriz flight lead continued.
"But you do, you have one more shot on the TLS. Go, we will cover you" objected Nagase.
"No, this is my fight. These people we are fighting - my people- started this, I will end it" he said, "you take care of the satellite. Please go, Nagase. Don't waste more time"
"...Wil" she said, "I still want to fly with you. So be safe. Promise me"
"I promise. You be careful too" he replied.
Three black F-22s disengaged from the fight and headed towards the northwest sector of the area. Three of the four remaining Su-47 pursued but was halted of a slice of red beam which destroyed two.
"Fool, you fired that twice just to save them. It should be offline now" transmitted Michael Heimeroth, Ofnir's flight lead, over Blaze's radio in the Belkan language.
"Of course, you guys built this monster. You should know that. But we completed it and flew it. Now who's the fool?" Blaze thought, refusing to answer his taunts.
When the 6-second duration of the TLS ended, the remaining Su-47 which attempted to pursue Edge, Swordsman and Archer resumed his chase. In desperation, Blaze chased after it and placed his rear vulnerable to the Ofnir leader chasing after him. Both flight leads of the opposing squadrons clicked their guns at the same time, bullets ripping through two planes and causing one explosion. The Falken – its left wing riddled with holes and left engine smoking- emerged through the Su-47's fireball. The remaining Ofnir plane followed close behind with its guns still blazing.
"You may succeed in destroying the SOLG, but this isn't over. The Gray Men are far from finished. We are still large in numbers and strong in influence" said Heimeroth, pulling hard on his control stick to keep up with the damaged but still agile Falken.
"Your words mean nothing at this point, murderer"
"Before you die, I wish only to inform you that your friends, their families and their friends will constantly live in fear. They will be hunted for opposing us, especially the woman"
"Don't you dare touch her! Your problems are with me" he finally replied.
"Indeed! And it will end here, traitor"
With that, the Sukhoi's fore internal bay opened and 2 missiles propelled themselves at the wounded plane ahead. As the Falken discharged all it flares, Blaze pushed the throttle stick to the max, pulled the control stick and stepped hard on the left rudder. Since the left engine was down, the full thrust of the remaining engine as well as the rudder and aileron orientations made the aircraft turn rapidly into the reverse direction facing the trailing Berkut.
"Heimeroth, people like us has no place in this coming world" Blaze whispered, clicking the trigger button to his guns.
Several years has passed since then. The destruction of the SOLG ended the Circum-Pacific War which was perpetrated by the Gray Men, and brought with it sweeping changes in the world. Thanks largely due to the funds and resources Osea provided Yuktobania to rebuild its infrastructure, relations between the two superpowers grew warmer than ever before. The extreme right-wing of both governments lost their influence and the two nations became more open to dialog.
In response to the ability of Grunder Industries to incite a war between two superpowers, almost every nation in the world formed oversight organizations to keep watch on the actions and dealings of large corporations. The lack of such oversight was one major factor that allowed Grunder Industries to fan the flames which resulted in the War.
The war's end, however, did not bring the peace many hoped for. A global manhunt for the members of the Gray Men officially began on February 2011. Within three months, over 2000 individuals – both wealthy and not - all around the globe were implicated and most sentenced to death. With thousands more deaths in the following months, 2011 infamously became known as the "witch-hunt of the 21st century". The hunt, despite being bloody in itself, threatened to push the world into war once more due to startling discoveries made linking the Gray Men with a large number of terrorist organizations and rogue states that would benefit from the fall of Osea and Yuktobania. Some government members - citing the combined military force of both nations - called for military operations into those rogue states who denied not only any involvement in the conspiracy but also independent investigators access into those countries. Another open war would have broken out if not for the outcry of war-weary citizens.
Despite all the negativity of 2011, a new age of humanity began on September 2012 when researchers determined the presence of Helium-3 - a clean and reliable fuel - on the moon as well as an efficient method to extract them. This drew great interest from governments of all sides. Since most wars were fought over energy sources such as oil, they realized the value of this find. The combined resources of those nations accelerated Osea's moon colonization program which has stalled since 1970 when the Cold War between Yuktobania and Osea escalated to near calamity. The participation of so many nations unified the world that ever before.
But what of the Razgriz, you ask? Well, some things changed while others stayed the same. Hans became a flight instructor in Heierlark AFB. Pops followed him as a mechanic. Snow retired the military and became a passenger plane captain. When I asked him why, he said his conversation with Blaze during our last naval engagement helped him decide. Bartlett, on the other hand, stayed the same: a Captain in Sand Island, a base that's now very undermanned due to the easing tensions between the nations across the pond. I like the place much more now, he said. As for me, I quit the military and moved back in with my mother. I needed some quiet time off and the town where she lived was the perfect place.
The calmness makes my mind wander often to Blaze. We spoke last in the skies above Oured Bay, and I can still remember his promise, the promise that he broke when he disappeared from my radar screen. Although the OMDF found pieces of the Falken floating on the Bay, there was no sign of him or the plane. He was gone, leaving me behind…Come to think of it, I was the one said, "I want to stay with you". He didn't say anything of the sort in return....I suppose I expected too much. When he helped Hans, Pops, Genette and I escape Sand Island that night, I knew he realized his mistake, that he served the wrong ideal. He had truly joined us then. But as soon as the path we walked converged, it diverged once more that dawn. For years, I kept up hope that he might be still alive. Sometimes, I feel someone's gaze on my back, as if watching me, but that's just wishful thinking on my part.
People often say that absence makes the heart grow fonder, but that's not the case with me. As time passed, he becomes more distant, more like a memory. Maybe that's because my feelings for him isn't real. Perhaps it's just like in the action movies, born out of our adrenaline-filled mission. I guess that's to be expected. Our relationship, if you can even call it a 'relationship', isn't quite normal. OADF prohibits fraternization, so we never really had a chance to bond.
My memory of him could have stayed pleasant if not for the repeated attempts on our lives. We initially didn't notice them as they simply seem to be unlucky circumstances such as almost getting run over by a drunk driver, being involved in a bank robbery, failed engine on an airplane and almost getting hit by a falling I-beam from a construction site. When whoever wishes us dead knew they couldn't do the job inconspicuously, they resorted to drastic measures. They took and killed my mother - my only remaining family - to get to me. I knew the people responsible for these were doing the bidding of the Gray Men, mad men thirsty for revenge. I warned the others but it was too late. Hans lost his left leg in a roadside car bomb. He could never fly again. As for Snow…he, his wife and one of their two children were killed. Never have I felt this much hatred for someone. I never saw or knew the people responsible for all these. They had no face I could relate to, except one. Just one person I once felt very strongly for. If he or the ideal he served never existed; if only they never set foot upon this world, none of these would happen. It's funny how quickly affection can turn to hate.
I joined the Interpol and worked in the department specializing in the Gray Men hunt, hoping that it would lead me to my mother's killer. Though I know the Interpol jurisdiction is limited only to gathering intelligence, and the actual act of enforcing of the law must be handed over to local authority, it is the only police force in the world that can operate in anywhere in the world. One day, I got a lead on my mother's murderer hiding out in a small hamlet in northeast Osea, but someone had gotten to him first. His death was horrifying: It was as though he was brutally tortured till death. His eyes were gouged out, nails and teeth pulled out, fingers broken in every direction, testicles …. well, you get the picture. A series of deaths later - though they were not as graphic as the death of my mother's killer – made me notice a relationship: the victims were all Gray Men members who managed to escape the law and who the police cannot touch. I was both happy and angry: happy that someone's been killing them off, but angry that the hunt for these people doesn't seem to end, and that whoever eliminated them were more effective than I was. No matter what I did, he/she were always steps ahead... But no more. Soon I will catch that person and find out his/her methods of finding and eliminating those cockroaches of an organization which should have died with the War's end five years ago.
Present day
August 27, 2015
Basset Space Center, Osea
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The discovery of He-3 made the Basset Space Center busier it had ever been. Brilliant minds from all over came together with one goal in mind: to put a permanent, working base on the moon. Even the crew of the first shuttle would comprise of nationals from participating states. Realizing the value of such multinational cooperation, governments popularized the project – codenamed Peacemaker- as something that would bring peace on earth by providing abundant energy to all. Of course, opponents of the project – because there was no binding agreement that the He-3 would be shared - branded it as a wile method by the already wealthy participating countries to monopolize energy and further their power and wealth at the expense of leaving less developed nations behind.
"Phew, they checked me three times now," said a black haired FBI agent dressed in a black-white suit as he looked back at the runway checkpoint where he was scanned for weapons and explosive by heavily armed OAF soldiers. "I thought you weren't coming. The launch's happening in less than 30 minutes. How was your flight?"
The woman next to him replied, "as normal as it can be-"
Four F-22s flying-by in formation overhead interrupted her. Looking up, she saw four other squadrons performing combat air patrol over the skies of the space center. Since many dignitaries and world leaders were gathered at one place, security was elaborate. In addition to the guards at the runway checkpoint, teams of soldiers and M1126 Stryker ICVs guarded the 4 entrances of the VIP-packed convention hall. M1A2 Abrams tanks accompanied by Strykers carrying full marine complements patrolled the facility grounds while an E-3 Sentry provided radar support. Several Ticonderoga-class AEGIS cruisers supported by Arleigh Burke-class missile destroyers blockaded the waters leading to the facility. Finally, several M270A1 MLRS were on standby as fire support.
"You don't have much love for these formal events do you, Nagase?" the man asked, observing her head to toe, from her shoulder length black hair tied in a bun to her pale, pretty face down to a cyan blouse under a blue suit and a matching blue pants which formed around her slender body. "Don't you ever wear a dress? Er, not that you don't look beautiful…"
The Interpol detective ignored the remark of her FBI colleague and said, "how's the security inside?"
"Other agents are positioned among the crowds-Don't worry, I haven't told them about that thing" he quickly said upon receiving her glare. "VIPs are allowed bodyguards of their own, but no weapons inside the hall, though. It's a form of international "trust" and "good will", said Harling. I say it's all dandy but what if things go south?"
"Just keep an eye out, Tanaka. That person's sure to be here" she said before handing him a wireless communication device in the form of a small earpiece. "Take this. Frequency's set to allow comm between these two pieces only. It shouldn't interfere with the one you are currently wearing"
"Thanks" Toshihiko Tanaka said before both entered the elegantly decorated convention hall where the sounds of chatter suddenly filled the air.
Tables carrying refreshments such as cocktails and finger foods were scattered throughout the room. Smartly dressed men and elegantly dressed ladies mingled amongst one another in the crowd of three hundred. Television crews perched on the balconies 2 stories above the carpeted ground floor. A large LCD screen the size of hangar doors installed above a stage as well as numerous smaller monitors mounted on metal pillars and along the sides of the hall showed the large shuttle Peacemaker 01 on the launch pad of the mass driver. Clapping suddenly arose from the audience as the monitors showed the vehicles carrying the shuttle crew arriving at the launch pad.
"At least they weren't kidding when they said it would comprise of people from other nationalities. I'm so used to seeing all white people on these missions" Tanaka remarked jokingly.
"Yeah…" she replied half-heartedly, "shouldn't you get back to your duty?"
"….sigh…this wasn't the date I was hoping for" he whispered.
"You said something?" Nagase asked.
"No, nothing"
"Stay alert. The launch is in 20 minutes. Something's happening soon"
Leaving Tanaka, she stepped deeper into the crowds toward the stairs leading up to balconies which allowed better view of the hall and its occupants.
"I think you are being overly paranoid. You gave the security all –well, most of - the intelligence you had. Plus, no one's foolish enough to attack this facility. The military presence is so heavy here I can't almost breathe" he said.
She didn't answer him again as she caught the eye of the Harling who nodded to her. She nodded back and watched him return to his conversation with Nikanor and Elena Rosenberg, the CEO of General Resources. Others around her began whispering when they noticed that interaction between the world's most powerful man and a seemingly insignificant woman.
"That's him. 1 meter east, 2 north" said Tanaka without pointing or looking at the location where he was referring to. "Geofrey Amansal. Another rich Gray Men sympathizer … look at him, smug, thinking we didn't know yet"
"Don't make your move yet. He is the secondary objective" Nagase said.
"Remember," Tanaka warned, "FBI's the one with jurisdiction here. You are here because of special Presidential invitation, not as an Interpol detective, so don't try anything stupid. Besides you don't even carry a weapon. If anything bad happens, it's my ass on the line."
"Didn't I tell you I owe you a big one?" the former ace pilot asked.
"I just don't get it" Tanaka said a slight annoyed tone. "I mean, I appreciate you telling only me. That means a lot in terms of trust. But why didn't you tell the military and my boss that Amansal is an agent? If I were a Gray Men agent, the failure of this project is what I need. We need to get him before he tries anything"
"He won't try anything" she assured him.
"You can't possibly be that sure" he protested, "And why are you so obsessed with that vigilante who hunts Gray Men collaborators? You don't even have proof that's it's the same culprit"
"…I don't expect you to understand. Just remember what you promised me" she said.
"We have been working together repeatedly for a couple years now, yet I still don't know what you are thinking. Why do you seem so distant, as if chasing after something?" he thought, glancing at the person on the balcony.
Since Tanaka was walking forward while looking at Nagase, he bumped into a waiter carrying champagne glasses on a tray. The result was predictable: the tray fell along with the glasses. Several guests around them jumped to evade the falling liquid.
"I'm so sorry, sir" the spectacled waiter said, looking at Tanaka's wet pants while picking the fallen glasses up.
"No, no. Don't worry about it. I'm the one not looking where I'm going" the FBI agent said kneeling down to help.
Suddenly the ground shook and voices of shock filled the convention hall. Tanaka looked at the large monitor and his eyes widened at the large mushroom cloud near the space shuttle. Though the cockpit section was still visible, the entire aft portion was completely blocked by the pillar of smoke. Seconds later, the monitors and lights in the hall went off, causing panic. When Tanaka recollected himself, the waiter was already gone. Guests were shuffling uncomfortably, surrounded by their respective bodyguards. A nearby scream then led him to Amansal, dead in his own pool of blood.
"Tanaka!" shouted a blond-haired man dressed in a similar suit as he.
"Sir!" he acknowledged his superior officer, Telford Sturgeon.
"What is this?" Sturgeon asked, looking at the corpse by his subordinate's feet.
"He-" he was about to tell him Amansal's a Gray Men operative but caught himself and lied, "Don't know, sir. He was like this when I found him"
"Secure the body" he said before barking orders into his wireless, "Scott, get over to here right now! Get me confirmation on the president! Has the secret service secured him?"
Feeling a protrusion in his right coat pocket, Tanaka reached into it and produced a napkin with the words: "keep an eye on her". He quickly switched his view to Nagase. She was no longer there.
The spectacled waiter, undoing his bow tie, slipped out into the kitchen past confused chefs and other waiters and waitresses. The knife he used just seconds ago he placed into the dishwasher among other similar knives. After pressing the "High Heat Wash" button, he proceeded into an adjoining room where he dove into a laundry chute leading to the basement. A bin full of used linen cushioned his fall. The black-haired man then walked a few steps to a conveniently parked Humvee, opened the left front door and began donning an OAF Colonel uniform. Halfway through, however, he heard something, or rather, someone sliding down the chute in similar manner as he did.
He grabbed his silenced USP45 handgun tucked with the military uniform and pointed it the space where a person's head would be upon exiting the chute. As the sound of person barreling down the chute grew louder, he slowly squeezed the trigger. A bluish figure fell out and landed on her back. His hand twitched out of aim, making the bullet miss its organic target by millimeters.
Nagase looked up, her brown eyes meeting his gray ones. She observed the face she recognized easily: unkempt black hair, gray eyes, and facial features of Belkan-Osean origin. Everything was as she remembered except for the rough, unshaven jaws, the thinner body build, the glasses and the bags under the blood-shot eyes. In front of her was the face of a ghost she loved, and hated…
A/N: This story is a pseudo-sequel to my Color of My Wings story, but you don't have to read it to understand this one. I would greatly appreciate reviews. Thanks for reading.