Disclaimer: Nazi Zombies, Afterburner, Five, Sa- You know what? Screw this. I only own Dave and the 667th TFS. And the FPS-90 "Freedom Fighter", but I'm willing to give it to Treyarch.

For a fee.


Chapter 1: We have some Questions

David Jordan's sudden reappearance was a bit of a surprise for the rest of the 667th Tactical Fighter Squadron. He covered up his zombie filled trip by saying he had landed in the woods and after two weeks of surviving in the wilderness wondered if the engine would work again. Incredibly they believed him and were glad to have him back. It was a good thing, too. Captain Johnson said that, if Dave had been gone a few more days, they would've declared him MIA. Shortly after being told that, he went back out to his fighter to find his Pack-A-Punched MP-40, known as the Afterburner, had vanished along with the knife and the soda bottles. But the one thing that really confused Dave was the fact that whoever stole the weapons and sodas also took Teddy, Samantha's bear.

Why would anyone steal a teddy bear? This was suspicious, to say the least. The first chance he got, Dave painted his Pack-A-Punched M1911 black to resemble a normal one. He kept his FPS-90 "Freedom Fighter" in his flight suit, only taking it out when he washed the suit.

With that problem out of the way, Dave found he had other things to focus on. On October 1st, only a few days away, the 667th was leaving Germany. They were to fly down to the Key West, Florida, to meet up with the rest of the 479th Fighter-bomber Wing stationed there in response to the missiles discovered in Cuba. The trip included stopovers in the Azores and Washington, D.C. and a midair refueling over the Atlantic Ocean. Needless to say, the squadron was a bit tense since they would probably be scrambled first in the event the Cubans started World War 3.

Dave's absence also didn't stop his family from writing letters to him. The letter they mailed him said three things. The first was that his mother and father were doing fine, which he imagined. They went on to say that his little brother Gary was thinking about following in the footsteps of his older brother and joining the Air Force. Dave sighed as he read that.

Gary, you have the weakest stomach I know! He immediately thought about writing back and suggesting a better branch for him, like the Coast Guard.

Eh, Dad would probably counter that with the Navy. The last thing they wrote about greatly interested Dave: Mr. Link had held through with his promise.

Mr. Link was a photographer who went to West Virginia in 1959. He came to photograph the Norfolk & Western Railroad and soon met Dave's father, who worked as a fireman on one of the railroad's A-class articulated locomotives. Mr. Link promised Dave and Gary he would give them a copy of one of his pictures. And now he got them one. According to what his mother wrote, the photograph was of a train passing the local drive-in theater. The exciting thing was the engine's number: 1242, the same number as their father's engine! Dave expressed his excitement in the letter he sent home.

Soon, the day arrived when it was time to leave. The ground crew fitted the squadron's aircraft with enormous wingtip-mounted fuel tanks. Dave looked out over the German countryside one last time as he climbed into the cockpit of his F-104 Starfighter. He started the fighter's engine and took his spot in line on the taxiway. One, by one, the aircraft got into position at the end of the runway, waited for clearance from the tower, then gunned their engines. After he took off, Dave formed up alongside the other three aircraft already airborne. As they circled the airfield waiting for the other eight planes to take off, Dave took one last look at the German landscape. The sun was rising, highlighting a mountainous ridge east of the airstrip. Once the last aircraft was off the ground, the squadron formed up and headed west. After several hours of nonstop flying, they touched down on a small airstrip in The Azores.

"Ah! This is much better!" Larry Baker, the squad's second in command exclaimed after climbing out of his plane.

"Tell me about it," Dave replied, exiting his aircraft, "My legs were falling asleep!"

"Nah, I was talking about the weather!" The adjutant said.

"Oh… You're right, it's much warmer here!" Dave commented.

"Just wait, you two," called Captain Avery Johnson, their Commanding officer, "After we leave Washington, we're headed straight for Florida!" The squadron managed to squeeze in lunch at the base's mess hall before they got airborne for their flight across the Atlantic. While over the ocean, Dave's thoughts wandered to his time in Der Riese.

You know, I think I should've stayed there. I mean killing all those zombies was more fun than our patrols. Hmm, considering how long I lasted there, I think I should've joined the Army, maybe the Mari- his thoughts were interrupted by a voice on the radio.

"Hammer Squadron, this is the refueling aircraft, do you have us on your radar?" Dave looked at his radar to see a large blip a few miles west of their position.

"Roger, refueling aircraft. We're heading to your location." Responded Johnson. Soon, the squadron came face to face with the rear-end of a KB-50 with its three fuel lines dangling from its wings and tail.

"Alright, get in line." The aircraft proceeded to get into three lines behind the refueling aircraft. Dave flew behind Johnson, behind the left wing refueling line.

I hate refueling. Thought Dave as the first three aircraft left the tanker, allowing the next three to top-off their tanks. Dave carefully inched his fighter closer to the tanker. He had to get the end of the tube to connect with the probe to the left of his cockpit. What made this even harder was how slow the tanker was. The KB-50 was a piston-engine aircraft, meaning its top speed and the F-104 Starfighter's stall speed were uncomfortably close. Now within a few feet of the fueling line, Dave eased up on the throttle, causing the stick to shake: a warning indicating an imminent stall. After a few moments, he finally connected with the tanker's line and could relax as his plane's tanks were filled. Soon, he disengaged from the tanker, allowing Hammer 7 to fill his tanks. The rest of the squadron continued to fuel without incident. Then, Mort Goldstein, a.k.a. Hammer 11, came over the radio.

"Dammit, I never trusted those German mechanics!" He complained.

"Heh, those German mechanics never really trusted you," Captain Johnson chuckled, "What's wrong now?"

"I don't know, my engine's makin' this strange sound and the stick's starting to stick." He replied.

"Huh, well, I guess you'll have to hitch a ride on the tanker." The captain adjusted his radio, "You hear that?" "Roger, we'll get him home for ya." Answered the tanker. Mort kept his plane attached to the tanker as the last of the squadron's fighters finished fueling up.

Dave thoughts soon wandered back to what he was thinking about earlier.

Nah, if I joined the Army I wouldn't've ended up in Der Riese. Since they had to stay with the tanker, the trip lasted much longer than they planned. By the time they got to Washington D.C., the sun had long since gone down. Mort detached from the tanker and one by one the squadron landed at Bolling Air Force Base. Once one the ground, the pilots got out of their aircraft.

"Hey, Captain," Piped up Larry Baker, "Seein' as we're in D.C., maybe we should check out some of the sights!'

"Yeah!" said Mort, " we gotta at least see the National Air Museum."

"I agree," added Dave, "I mean we're pilots after all." A few of the other pilot began to speak up and agree.

"Alright, alright," The Captain responded, "I'll see if I can get Command to let us stay an extra day. In the meantime, it's getting late. We could all use some re-" He was cut off as a suited man approached him. After a brief exchange, Captain Johnson pointed to Dave,

"Uh, that's him." He stated. The man approached Dave.

"David M. Jordan?" He asked "Yes, sir." "Follow me." The two left the group of pilots and headed towards a limousine.

"So, were are we going?" Dave asked.

"No questions."


So, here's the first chapter of the sequel! Yay! This is all I'm going to publish for now. The rest will be published starting around the end of August, maybe early September. Depends on where the Friday is.

I think I should start giving out bonus points for people who discover my jokes and references. I got a Famliy Guy one in here for starters...

Additional points for whoever gets Mr. Link's full name and the name of his photograph! (They're both real)

And I do my research: The 667th may be fake, but the unit it's in is real and they really were sent to Florida.

And in my world "wouldn't've" is a word!