Disclaimer: I do not own Area 88 or NationStates. They are property of their respective owners; which are Kaoru Shintani and Max Barry, respectively.

The Kingdom of Asran, a nation in Northern Africanus, or Northern Tehom, depending on who you're talking to. Asran is a nation that has been in a state of civil war since nineteen seventy-five, and it doesn't seem to be ending anytime soon. Area 88 Air Base is a bitter, blood-stained battlefield in of itself; the front lines' front line. Even the simple luxury of walking on the base's apron is dependent on the graces of this nation's god.

Mercenaries, however, abandoned God and shook hands with the Devil…

STORM & FIRE

THE BURNING MIRAGE

BOOK 01

SKIES OF BETRAYAL

CHAPTER 01

Near the village of Afrah, Kingdom of Asran

11 April, 1979 – 1146 Hours

A group of four Birkanian-built T-62 tanks move southward toward an enemy line; the sound of treads moving through hard desert sand clearly audible. Suddenly, without warning, one of the T-62s exploded. The cause of the explosion, a single Vought F-8J Crusader with a flaming unicorn emblem on the tail, flies overhead, going around for another pass. Realizing that they were sitting ducks, the crews of the remaining T-62s bailed out of their tanks and started running. The Crusader fires its cannons and strafes the fleeing troops in multiple passes, as well as firing unguided rockets at the tanks until they were flaming hulks.

"Area 88 Double Echo, the Rebels' tanks are heading south from point Three-Bravo in the northern sector. This is Kazama Shin, Zero-Zero Section. I repeat. This is Kazama Shin, Zero-Zero Section." the Crusader's pilot stated over the radio.

The pilot, Shin Kazama, a twenty-seven year old Sunese male, continued patrolling the area for more enemies. Sure enough, more tanks; this time T-54s. "Good. More tanks. Alright, anyone else in this airspace, stay away from these targets. They're mine."

Rolling in, Shin starts getting a bead on the T-54s. "I spent a lot of money on this Crusader, so let me make up for it, okay?" he said to himself just before he pulls the trigger. After a few passes, firing rockets, the T-54s were hulks with their crews either dead or running.

Leveling out his plane, Shin says to himself, "Looks like I've made over six-thousand Dollars today." He then turns to the base's frequency, "This is Kazama Shin, Zero-Zero Section, the Rebel tanks in this sector have been destroyed. Returning to base."

Lady Luck was, once again, on his side. As he headed back to base, Shin was thoroughly pleased the fact that his gamble on getting a new aircraft seemed to have paid off. Compared to the Eurasian-built Heinemann-Istra HJ-4B Morgan that he previously flew -and even started out with when he got to this forsaken nation-, the Vought F-8J Crusader that he's flying now was an improvement; one by leaps and bounds. To put it in more elaborate terms: In regards to the Crusader, with a top speed of Mach 1.86, Shin felt like he was driving a 250 GTO sports car; whilst in comparison, the subsonic Morgan felt more akin to driving an old Model T. It was just as the saying goes for fighter pilots from the 1940s onward, "Speed is life."

Area 88 Air Base, Kingdom of Asran

1203 Hours

"You are cleared to land." Area 88 Air Base's control tower informed Shin as he brought his F-8J in on final approach. "Copy." Shin flatly replied as he brought his Crusader in smoothly. Upon landing, he taxied to the apron and shut down his engine. "Welcome back. How did things go for you?" Gustav, a twenty-seven year old Prussian who is the head of the base's technician group, asked Shin as the Crusader's canopy opened.

"Everything went okay this time. This plane's well worth the three hundred grand I had to spend on it. Even so..." Shin replied as he undid his oxygen mask showing a face of moral anguish, "I can't go back home to White Sun. My debts are keeping me here."

"Don't worry, I'm sure the Athena Corporation is doing its best to get your situation sorted out." Gustav replied, trying to reassure his top scoring fighter pilot; it was hardly effective, as Shin simply stated, "I appreciate your reassurance, Gustav, but at this point, I highly doubt that the Athena Corporation is even doing a thing."

Stepping out onto the apron, the Sunese pilot was met by the base commander, Prince Saki Vashtal. A thirty year old Asrani male with long, dark hair and an X-shaped scar on his forehead; a man who Shin inwardly refers to as "the asshole".

"Welcome back, Kazama. I appears you made a fortune today." Saki greeted without a hint of positive emotion. "Yeah, I destroyed six or seven Rebel tanks. I figure I made around six- to eight-thousand." Shin replied, trying to show even a trace of positive emotion.

"There is a meeting in the briefing room at eighteen thirty, after mess hour. I'll be covering tomorrow morning's operation. Your kills have been recorded by the plane's cameras. Get the film down to records immediately. You'll have your results in an hour. Any questions?" the Asrani prince instructed Shin insistently. "Not particularly." Shin responded with a slight smirk on his face.

"Then get some rest. You've earned it." Saki finished as he walked off back to the command building. Shin glanced and headed along the parked rows of aircraft toward the barracks. On the way over, he came across an old man standing slumped over with his hands behind his back. Noticing Shin, the old man chuckled. "Ah Shin, welcome back."

"McCoy..." Shin returned the greeting with a scowl on his face. Robert J. McCoy, the base's scrounger and head of Area 88's PX shop, who deals with Californian Dollars as a means of currency transaction. He provides the mercenaries with most of the items that they need such as fighter planes and weapons, as well as with civilian items. "Please attach the Sidewinders to my plane. I also need three hundred rounds for my twenty mils." Shin instructed, dreading some sort of omen regarding finances.

Punching in the numbers on a calculator, Ol' McCoy, as he was affectionately -and even grudgingly- called, replied, "You're talking around a thousand bucks." This was the financial omen Shin dreaded. If this were some cartoon made in California, the old man would be having Dollar signs for eyes right now. The Sunese pilot thus began the task of bargaining, "That's too much, McCoy. Make it eight hundred."

"Heh heh... How about eight-hundred-fifty?" McCoy countered. "Fine. You can charge it to my account." Shin replied with a sigh of defeat. The PX shop owner smiles greedily, "Thanks, Shin, and do come again." Leaving the old man behind, Shin continued on his way to the barracks. On the way over, two Dassault Mirage IIICJ delta-winged interceptors flew past at low altitude. He then became lost in his thoughts. So deep, that he did not notice that someone new was walking up to him.

"Hey. You're the Sunese pilot, right?" Startled, Shin turned to see a Californian man with blonde hair, wearing an old flight suit; the kind that you would see in movies about the B-17 Flying Fortresses of the Tiberian War, complete with jeans and Federated States Air Force-issued heavy boots. The man appeared to be in his late thirties and had a cocky grin on his face. "The name's Mickey Simon. I'm going to be a member of this base's team starting today." the Californian introduced himself. "So, what's your name?"

"Kazama Shin." the Sunese pilot responded deftly. "Shin Kazama... That's a mouthful! Well, I guess that's okay. Everyone over there's got odd names, anyway. Hell, I wouldn't even mind goin' there someday." the Californian pilot, Mickey Simon, continued, hoping to be friendly with Shin. "I'm gonna make a ton of money here. After that, I'm gonna live like a king! But what am I tellin' you this for? You came here for the cash too, right? I know all about you Sunese guys. You're a bunch of economic animals."

"If you want to get rich, you're going to have to work hard. I don't know what you think is good money, but the only way to make it is to stay alive." Shin deadpanned. "Man, what a grump! Aren't you worried about becoming a terminal downer?" Mickey asked, shocked, to which Shin simply replied, "Not really." It was at this point that Mickey Simon started complaining to himself, "Jeez... I just met the guy with the long hair. You two are really weird guys. I mean, what's with you guys? And who's the hippie anyway?"

Shin, who ignored the first question, turned to the Californian and replied to the second question, "He's the base commander. Everyone calls him 'Saki'." Confused, Mickey said to himself, "The Commander? He's the Commander? Huh... I never would've guessed it." Shin began explaining, "Area 88 is home to a mercenary air force. We're hired by the Athena Corporation and the Kingdom of Asran to serve a three-year term. It doesn't matter who you are, where you're from or what your record is. We're all a bunch of professional soldiers here. And professional soldiers don't need companions." It was then that Shin continued on his way toward the barracks. He finishes by saying, "See you later."

Arriving in his barrack less than teen minutes later, Shin flips on the light, which also turns on the air conditioner. "Dammit... How long do I have to put up with this noisy air conditioner? It's driving me insane!" the Sunese fighter pilot complained to himself as he unzipped his flight jacket. The room wasn't decorative or anything. There was only a bed to sleep in and a table with a large water dispenser on it to keep him hydrated. As he put his flight helmet onto the table, he glanced over at the calendar. The month of April, nineteen seventy-nine, but with the first ten days of the month crossed out.

Silently, he gets out a pen and crosses out today's date. "Two years and three months left..." he says with a look of sadness on his face. He sits down on the bed and thinks, holding a glass of water in his hand, "Two more years..." He suddenly snapped, throwing the glass of water at the wall, shattering it instantly. Holding his head, tears spill out of his eyes, "Oh Kami... I... I can't take this anymore!" Laying down on the bed, he sobs, "I want to go home! I want to live in Edo again! I want to see Ryoko!" It was at this moment that the base's intercom turned on.

1830 Hours

The briefing room was loud with mercenary pilots socializing and thick with cigarette smoke. Mercenaries from all over the world occupy this room. Pilots from California, Euro-Asia, Poland-Lithuania, Rome, Belkaland, Azhadstan, Hudaydah, even the war-torn Amethia region of Sotia, and everywhere in between; all gathered in this room. All the pilots have a reason for being here. Most of them, like Mickey Simon, simply came here to get rich; some joined because they couldn't adapt to a life of peace; some joined just to make ends meet for himself or his family; others, like twenty-two year old New Edwardian pilot Kristopher Morison, joined because they have no where else to go; and still others just for the sheer excitement of it all.

"I swear to you, Beusuandille will rise as an empire once again. I don't know how or when, but it will happen eventually." Beusuan pilot, Désiré Jacques, stated to a group of Eurasian, Amerii, and Roman pilots, only to receive an irritated scowl at the former's unbridled nationalism; most notably, scowls from the Eurasian pilots.

Shin quietly sat in the corner, with the newcomer, Mickey Simon, doing the same just next to him. The doors to the briefing room opened, revealing Prince Saki Vashtal and his confidant, a forty-six year old Briton, simply named 'Roundel', walking in. "Here they come..." the Beusuan pilot said with a hint of dread. The room stilled to a hush as the Asrani prince and his confidant walked up to the podium with a map of the mission area behind them. Once there, Saki began informing the pilots, "Listen up! I'm going to cover tomorrow's mission, so pay attention! The target is an anti-aircraft and surface-to-air missile base at point Two-Charlie in the northern sector."

"The Devil's Rose Gardens, huh?" a thirty-seven year old Eurasian mercenary pilot named Greg Gates thought out loud. Saki continued, "Tomorrow afternoon, the Asrani Regular Air Force will begin a new offensive campaign against the Rebels. We will have to either destroy or seriously impair the base's defensive capabilities. Prepare yourselves. We leave in six hours."

"Jesus Christ! I don't want to fly into that shit!" a Sylvan pilot said to the others. "It'll be like flying right into an ocean of bullets and missiles! To hell with that noise!" a thirty-six year old British pilot named Hank Bowman shouted, frightened. "Saki! I'm not going on this mission." Shin stated to the base commander as he raised his hand. "Either you go, Kazama, or I will have to fine you five thousand Dollars for disobeying an order." Saki warned. Shin was prepared for this and countered, "Yeah, I'm well aware of that. But even so... If I can save my life for five thousand Dollars, I think that's a bargain."

Saki was becoming irritated from Shin's insubordination. He tries to regain his composure, "Ahem... Does anyone else intend to disobey this order?" While Saki asked this, Mickey leaned over and whispered to his new acquaintance, "Hey Shin. What's all this about? Is this mission really that dangerous?" to which Shin explained, "It depends... If you have the latest hardware, including rear working radar and multi-target tracking computers, you've got a better chance of survival. As for me, I'm not sure if I could survive flying into a hail of bullets and missiles with my Crusader. But hey, you wanted to make money, right? So why not go along? It's more dangerous with fewer pilots, but your share will be a lot better." Mickey turned white as a bed sheet and didn't utter a single word as Shin continued, "Everyone here is a pro, so compare your equipment with the requirements and choose the missions where the money is good. All you have to do then is come back alive. It's all a game. Lady Luck decides who the winners are."

Darting up out of one of the seats, Hank Bowman stated to the Asrani prince, "Saki, I'm not going either!" Saki deadpanned, "Bowman, you only have two thousand Dollars left in your account. Think again." Realizing he's getting no where with this, Bowman turned to Shin, "Shin, old pal... Can I barrow three grand off ya? I'll pay you right back. I promise." Both Saki and Shin were not buying it. In fact, they were smelling a rat. "Heh heh... You don't mind, right mate? I mean, you've got lots of money in your account. So how about it, huh?"

"No way, Bowman. Go and meet your maker." Shin replied, uncompromising. It was at this point that Bowman started to panic. "Please! Anybody! Is there anyone who can lend me the money?! Come on! Please!" Everyone's answer was just like Shin's; an uncompromising "No". Mickey frowned at Bowman as if he was a raving lunatic, but at the same time, he was thinking. A Californian pilot offered his support, "Hey Bowman! I'll help you out, man." This lightened Hank's spirits, "Really, Jeff? You will?" to which, the Californian replied, "Sure, man. We'll form a pair. I'll protect your six, so don't worry." This did not impress the Briton one bit.

Saki then turned to Mickey, "The new pilot, uh, Mickey Simon. Since this is your first mission, what do you have to say for yourself?" The Californian newcomer then replied hesitantly, "Uh... I'm not going either." This shocked Shin, and provoked a few jeers and snide remarks from the other pilots in response. Saki finally stated grimly, "Alright, Mickey Simon. You and your friend will be fined five thousand Dollars."

Six hours later, both Shin and Mickey were standing on the apron watching as the other mercenaries took off for their mission. The mercenaries were flying a hodgepodge of Western aircraft such as North Irkhallan F-100 Sabres, Douglas A-4 Skyhawks, McDonnell Douglas F-4 Phantom IIs, Northrop F-5A Freedom Fighters, and Dassault Super Mystères, while a few of the odd ones were flying Dassault Mirage IIICJs and, in Kristopher Morison's case, a McDonnell F-101C Voodoo.

The Sunese pilot was curious about the newcomer's decision, "So, why didn't you go? I thought you were here to get rich." This got a smug response from the Californian, "Well, you see, I had an idea. I realized just how dangerous working from the base is; the missions we get here, and the like... So I say to myself, Mick, this guy Shin Kazama seems to do pretty damn good. Why not follow his example and play it safe?"

Shin was about to answer when the sirens for the base started blaring. "Enemy formation approaching! Repeat: Enemy formation approaching!" Shin then stated with a smirk, "Just as I thought! They're coming to attack! Now it's my turn!" This received a shocked fluster from Mickey, "Shin! Did you just give up five grand 'cause you knew this was going to happen?!" Shin replied, putting on his flight helmet, "Of course. The prize money for shooting moving targets like enemy fighters is a lot higher than fixed targets like a missile base. When the risks are the same, I'm always going to take the job that pays better." As Shin and Mickey ran to their jets, the F-8J Crusader and an F-100D Sabre, respectively, Mickey couldn't help but mutter with a smirk on his face, "Shin, you clever son of a bitch..."

Within minutes of starting up, the Crusader and Sabre scrambled to take off. Once in the air, Shin caught sight of a MiG-19 'Farmer'. He was about to get an AIM-9D Sidewinder missile lock, when out of the blue, out of the corner of his eye, a MiG-19 that was on his tail was incinerated by an AIM-4 Falcon missile. Glancing to his left, he saw Mickey's F-100 flying in formation with him. "Hey Shin, an Ace doesn't fly without a wingman, you know?" Shin turned his attention back to the MiG in front of them. Getting a hard lock on it and fires a Sidewinder; the 'Farmer' was subsequently torn apart by the missile going into the target's port engine. The two mercenary pilots catch sight of another MiG-19 and they turned to engage. "You're mine!" Mickey stated before being interrupted by Shin stating, with a solid lock, "Fox Two!". Their opponent's starboard wing was torn off by the Sidewinder's impact.

"Great shot, Shin! You're just what I figured you'd be." Mickey said to Shin on the radio, thoroughly pleased with what he had seen from the Sunese pilot. Shin remained silent as the two planes returned to land at the base.

A few hours later, the first of the other mercenaries started to return to the base. "Looks like they're back." Shin said to no one in particular. The first to land is Prince Saki in his personalized Mirage IIICJ. After parking and getting out of the plane's cockpit, Saki was greeted by Shin, "Welcome back, sir." to which Saki replied, "I understand that you and Mickey Simon defended the base. Great work, you two." Shin subsequently responded, "Well, I always take the better paying jobs, as you know." Saki then continued, "Yes, well... It looks as if I will be giving a new mission the day after tomorrow."

As Shin listened, he heard a very familiar cackle from behind him. Startled, he turned to see Hank Bowman grinning arrogantly, "Hey Shin! I destroyed ten bloody missile launchers and five bleedin' tanks at the missile base! I made thirty thousand Dollars, you wanker! You can't be bloody insolent to me anymore!" Shin then asks, skeptically, "So what happened to Jeff?" This got a very cocky, and some would say humiliating, reply from the Briton, "Well... He got hit by a missile. You know, one minute, he's there, next he's in pieces. That's life." Those words cut into one of Jeff's closest friends, who, while being restrained by both Morison and Jacques, "You bastard! Wait until I get my hands on you, you goddamn son of a bitch!"

As the cursing mercenary was being dragged away by two of his colleagues, Shin nonchalantly thought out loud, "You can't blame him, really. They're all risking their lives for money." This piqued both Mickey and Saki's curiosity, "What about you, Kazama? What are you fighting for?" Mickey asked, to which Shin simply replied, "The skies that betrayed me..." before walking back to the barracks, leaving both Mickey and the Asrani prince confused.