"Red alert!" came the warning through the speakers of Albert Genette's helmet.
I was in the sky, trying to get the training team in my viewfinder
from the rear seat of the lead plane.
My pilot in the front seat was howling at the earth below.
The pilot in the front seat was Captain Jack Bartlett, callsign Heartbreak One, and he was howling, not at the earth below, but at the planes to the left and right of his own.
"Gimme a break! I'm babysittin' nuggets up here!" he cried out.
"Command Room to Wardog Squadron," came the voice over the speakers. "We have leakers, aircraft type unknown. Crossing the border at Cape Landers, bearing 278 to 302. Captain Bartlett, your flight is the only group close enough to make the intercept."
Genette snuck a look at Bartlett's radar. There were at least nine bogeys on their way-straight towards Bartlett's training group.
"Baker, Svenson," ordered Bartlett, "go trail and stay close. The three of us will go high and engage the bandits. All other aircraft stay low and out of the fight. ... Or else," he added as an afterthought.
Two planes came up, one on either side. They followed Bartlett's F-4 Phantom II to the bogeys, Bartlett practicing evasive maneuvers the whole way. Genette almost vomited more than once during the ensuing dogfight.
The world turned upside down, and my stomach turned inside out.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
"Sorry about this," muttered Bartlett distractedly as they walked back to the base.
The Captain's apology to me seemed misplaced.
One instructor had survived the fight, but crashed on landing.
The other one was killed in action high above the clouds.
It wasn't his fault that the unidentified aircraft fired on us without warning.
Nor was it his fault that the low-altitude area where he sent his trainees
was directly in front of the enemy.
Eight people died because the Command Room had misplaced some zeros.
"That pilot in the Number Seven was amazing," commented Genette. "Did you see her fight back?"
"No, I didn't," replied Bartlett. "I couldn't bear to watch."
Turning a full 180 degrees, he called across the airfield:
"Nagase! You keep flying like that and you'll die real soon!"
"I won't die, sir," responded the pale and visibly shaken, yet still beautiful Asian woman--the only survivor of the impromptu air battle.
The only surviving trainee's voice was almost a whisper.
"Are you sure?" asked Bartlett, almost scathingly. "You look like you couldn't hurt a fly." With that, he walked off. Genette stayed where he was and took careful aim with his trusty camera. Adjusting the focus a small bit, he zoomed in on Nagase.
Her face was pale, but she still managed to smile a bit for the camera.
The photo, along with my camera, was confiscated by Base Security.
It was as if our little undeclared war never happened.
I came to cover this remote island because I heard that a very unique squadron leader
was stationed here.
I didn't realize he was this unique, though.
Bartlett was now slumped back in the main chair in the briefing room, tired and saddened at what had transpired that day.
This bad-mouthed, good-natured old firebrand could take the greenest of rookies
and forge him into a fearsome fighter pilot.
Of course, that possiblity vanished with today's encounter.
The only crew he had left now were Second Lieutenant Nagase
and the few pilots that happened to be on the ground that day.
Said pilots, including Blaze, who was sitting next to yet another Second Lieutenant, were now seated in the briefing room and ready for the latest news.
Bartlett gave it to them.
Sigh "I know you don't like this," he began, "but we're short on people. Starting tomorrow, all of you nuggets are gonna be sittin' alert. If we launch, stay glued to me up there."
He then trained his hawkeyes on Nagase.
"Nagase!"
"Sir."
"You're flying Number Two on my wing," informed Bartlett. "Gotta keep an eye on you or who knows what you'll get yourself into."
A look of irritation flashed across Nagase's face for about a second-and-a-half, just long enough for Blaze to catch it.
"Randolph!" called Bartlett, setting his sights on Blaze.
"Yes, sir?" he asked.
"You and Rock 'N' Roller over there will flip a coin to see who gets the trail position. Whichever of you ends up 'drawing the short straw', as we like to call it, will be Wardog 4. Get your results before the next time we launch."
"Yes, sir," replied Blaze. "We can do it now, if you like."
"The sooner, the better," said Bartlett. "Go for it."
"OK, I got a quarter," said Blaze, turning to his companion. Call it in the air. Get it right, I take the trail position. Get it wrong, and you take it." With that, Blaze flipped the quarter high.
"Heads!" called his companion.
The coin came down flat on Blaze's hand, and he immediately used his other hand to cover the result. Slowly, he took his hand off the coin to reveal Vincent Harling's profile.
"Heads it is," confirmed Blaze. "Looks like I'm Number Four."
"OK, we're set," said Bartlett. "That's all for tonight, nuggets. Dismissed."
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Back in their room, Blaze was talking to Nagase about what happened. His clothes were unpacked and put in the bureau.
"...but how is it that you were the only one that survived?" Blaze was asking.
"Sheer luck, I guess," answered Nagase in a whisper.
"Kei, in the Air Force, there is no luck," said Blaze. "What many people mistake for luck is actually a guardian angel--or devil, as the case may be (1)--looking out for you."
"Unless you had a sip of Felix Felicis (2) that particular morning," cracked Nagase, at which Blaze laughed.
"That's true," he chuckled. "But we have to get some sleep. You heard the Captain, just as well as I did. We start sitting alert tomorrow, so we'll need to be up early."
"That's true, too," concurred Nagase. "Good night, and thanks for hearing me out."
"Always happy to help my comrades," replied Blaze. "See you tomorrow morning." With that, he shut out the light, and the room was smothered in darkness. Blaze fell asleep almost instantly when he climbed into his bunk.
Chapter 1: Shorebirds
"At ease, people," said the Base Commander in the briefing room the following morning, "but don't get too comfortable. It's a grave situation for all of us right now. Let's get this briefing started." With that, two projectors lit up, one with a map of the upcoming combat area, over Cape Landers, abd the other with their mission orders, shown below:
Another aircraft of unknown origin has entered Osean federation airspace.
We have confirmed the target type as a strategic recon plane flying at very high altitude.
Despite our repeated warnings, it continued to penetrate our ADEZ,
and was fired upon by Osean Coastal Defense Force SAMs.
We believe one of our SAMs damaged the unknown plane,
but did not destroy it.
Radar shows that the aircraft is currently losing altitude, and is attempting to egress feet wet
towards the ocean.
Intercept this aircraft and force it to land for identification.
Do not fire upon this aircraft until further orders are transmitted.
"That is all for right now," concluded the Commander. "Get to your fighters, and good hunting. Dismissed!"
Blaze turned to the man who would be called Wardog 3 and said, "Let's kick some tires and light the fires, my friend." (3)
"Take it easy there, Harry Connick, Jr.," replied the man with a wink.
Blaze then turned to Nagase and said, "Our first actual mission. Are you nervous?"
"Very," replied Nagase.
"Me, too," confided Blaze. "Don't worry, our fears will be dispelled once we get up in the air."
Nagase knew that Blaze was right, for she knew exactly what he meant: that they wouldn't have time to concentrate on anything except flying once they were up there.
"True," she said. "Let's go."
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
About an hour later, three F-5E Tiger II fighters followed an F-4 Phantom II over the coastline of Cape Landers to the combat area.
"This is Heartbreak One of Wardog Squadron," called Bartlett. "We are approaching the target."
"This is AWACS, callsign Thunderhead," came the commanding voice through their speakers. "Roger. Bring the target to the ground. Do not fire at the target. Repeat, do not fire at the target."
"You got that, nuggets?" Bartlett called to the other three pilots.
"Wardog 2, roger," replied Nagase.
"Wardog 3, roger," concurred Wardog 3.
Blaze said nothing. He was too contemplative about how well this mission would go; replaying what they had to do over and over in his head.
"...Wardog 4? Hello! Can you hear me, kid?" shot Bartlett, jolting Blaze out of his reverie. "You better be markin' our tail, son!"
"Sorry. Wardog 4, roger. Right behind you," replied Blaze.
"Looks like you're confident, at least," commented Bartlett. "Don't get separated from me."
"Roger," responded Blaze. "I'll stay right on your tail."
"Good boy," praised Bartlett.
"Man, I'm glad you drew the short straw instead of me!" breathed Wardog 3.
"Second Lieutenant Alvin H. Davenport, zip it!" snapped Bartlett. "You need a nickname, too?!"
"I respectfully ask to be called Chopper, sir," replied Davenport. "I'm afraid I may not be able to respond to any other moniker."
"Hmm..." mused Bartlett. "That does fit you well. I've got a better name for you, but I'll keep it to myself. OK?"
"Aw, cut me some slack, man!" groaned Chopper.
"I'd get used to it, if I were you, Chopper," cautioned Blaze. Out of nowhere, Bartlett called out, "Tally ho, we've got company. Let's go!" Blaze saw it at once: a brown SR-71 flying to the southwest. They all turned and went after it.
"You're forbidden to fire until I give permission, understand?" asked Bartlett.
"Fully and completely, sir," responded Blaze.
"Good boy," praised Bartlett again. After a few seconds, he asked, "All right, where's Motormouth Chopper?"
"Wha...That's your name for me?!" stuttered Chopper, aghast.
"You've got a knack for comic dialogue," shot back Bartlett. "You mind sending the surrender request for me?"
"Oh, no, please," mocked Chopper, "age before beauty."
"I'm real shy around strangers, you know," teased Bartlett.
"Sheesh," griped Chopper. "Testing, testing...Attention, unidentified aircraft. Set your course for our beacon immediately."
"Good," praised Bartlett.
"Uh..." continued Chopper, "we will direct you to the nearest airfield. Lower your gear if you understand."
The landing gear did not lower, and the plane gave no sign of comprehension. Instead, it continued to descend. Without warning, Thunderhead's voice boomed through their speakers.
"Warning! We have four high-speed bogeys inbound," he informed the pilots. "Approaching unknown aircraft, bearing 280, altitude 6,000. Hold your fire until further orders."
"Crosing the pond to fly cover for their spy plane, huh?" thought Bartlett aloud. "Now there's a fighter pilot worth his wings. Enemy inbound, bearing 280! Head on."
To Blaze, he added, "You're not to fire until I say it's OK, got me?"
"Every word," affirmed Blaze.
"Good boy," praised Bartlett yet again.
The other three pilots fell into formation behind him. Eventually, Blaze saw the recon plane hit the water.
"Enemy recon plane down," he informed Bartlett.
"Aw, what a shame," mocked Bartlett. "Too tired to party?"
"I guess so," commented Blaze. They were getting closer to the enemy fighters now. Blaze could now tell what kind of planes they were: four MiG-29a's, heading straight at them. Without warning, a missile, white-hot and out for blood, shot at them.
"Heads up!" called Chopper. "They're firing on us!"
"Wardog Squadron, weapons safe!" ordered Thunderhead. "Hold your fire until further orders."
"Oh, COME ON!!" shouted Chopper. "Those aren't blanks they're firing out there!"
Then, they heard the words they had all been waiting for:
"Shut your mouth and fire back!!" growled Bartlett.
"Captain Bartlett," reprimanded Thunderhead, "this is Thunderhead. You are violating direct orders!"
"Shove it!" snarled Bartlett dangerously. "I'm not gonna watch any more of my pilots die!"
"Edge, engaging!" called out Nagase.
"Heartbreak One, engaging," stated Bartlett.
"Chopper, engaging," said Chopper. "You with us, Blaze?"
"All the way," replied Blaze. "Blaze, engaging!"
"We're gonna shoot them all down, kid," assured Bartlett.
"I believe you, Captain," replied Blaze, and he flew off towards one of the enemy planes.
Bartlett and Chopper were tailing one of the MiGs.
"You mind if I grab this kill?" asked Chopper. "I will, you know."
"Go ahead," said Bartlett. "Nagase, how are things with you?"
"Lump-like," commented Nagase dryly. "Blaze is doing all the work over here. He's bagged three planes already."
Chopper gave a low whistle.
"What the hell..." muttered Bartlett. "Kid, is that true?"
"It is, sir," replied Blaze, and Bartlett could hear the mischievous grin in his voice. "Anything to keep Edge over there out of trouble."
"(Scoff) Blaze!" scolded Nagase playfully, completely aware that Blaze was being a wise guy.
"Hey, you heard the Captain," shot back Blaze, just as playfully, but the tone in his next words was all business:
"More enemies, from the southwest!"
"Wardog Squadron, weapons safe!" repeated Thunderhead. "Hold your fire until further orders."
"Turning to engage bandits...Or not," commented Nagase, for Blaze was already there and had bagged two of the four enemy planes.
"Damn. The new guy's already an ace?!" said a flabbergasted Bartlett. "That's unreal."
"Why do you say that, Captain?" asked Chopper.
"Because he's starting to remind me of the Demon Lord of the Round Table, from the war 15 years ago," replied Bartlett. As if he were listening in, Blaze came on their speakers.
"You mean Cipher?"
"You know him?" asked Nagase.
"Knew him..." corrected Blaze, "he's been dead for some time now. He's the man who taught me how to fly."
"That's crazy," commented Chopper.
"Wardog," attempted Thunderhead, "I ordered weapons safe for all aircraft. Follow orders and hold your fire." But by the time he'd finished, Blaze and Nagase had already bagged the last two planes, and the radar was clear. "All unknown bogey aircraft destroyed," he relayed to the pilots.
As a test, Bartlett said:
"This is your captain. Can you hear my voice?"
"Clearer than a church bell, Captain," replied Blaze with an air of confidence.
"Good, looks like we can all hear each other," commented Bartlett. "You all alive?"
"Here," replied Chopper.
"Present," responded Nagase.
"All right," praised Bartlett. "Nice work, nuggets. Wardog 4, you still following us?"
"Like the tail on a dog," confirmed Blaze.
"Well, to commemorate the fact that we all made it out of that battle alive, I'm going to let you keep your nickname. From now on, I'm gonna call you 'Kid' no matter what. Got it? Good."
"Man, I swear..." muttered Chopper. Just then, they got their in-flight debriefing:
Emergency transmission from Central.
To all Sand Island Base personnel:
1: All information regarding today's encounter is to be classified.
2: Captain Jack Bartlett is ordered to report to base headquarters immediately.
9/24/2010
Order E0111207
Osean Air Defense Force Central Command
___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Later that evening, Bartlett was outside his plane's hangar with Albert Genette, relating the day's events.
The whole affair with the unidentified aircraft was covered up.
There was even a rumor going around that it was actually a UFO.
Officially, the world was still at peace.
Having witnessed the battle myself, I wasn't allowed to leave the island.
"Why do they even bother reprimanding me anymore?" asked Bartlett, almost sadly. "I know I'm gonna be stuck at Captain forever."
"Who do you think's covering up the battle?" asked Genette.
"Listen," answered Bartlett shortly, "the only thing across that ocean is Murska Air Base. That's Yuktobanian territory."
"But haven't we been allies with the Yukes since the war 15 years ago?"
"Yeah...That's why we've got people working their asses off to confirm what the hell's going on over there. I bet they've got hotlines ringing off the hook somewhere upstairs. The government doesn't wanna get the public riled up with all this, you know? But it doesn't matter-soldiers like us are too stupid to think for ourselves, so we just gotta keep our mouths shut when they tell us to. I feel kinda bad for you, actually," finished Bartlett.
"It's all right," comforted Genette. "I get to be with you guys."
"Captain's probably hatin' this more than anybody," came a voice from within the hangar.
"Hm?" Genette turned around and saw the senior mechanic walking toward them.
"He used to have a lady friend over in Yuktobania."
Bartlett closed his eyes and smiled.
"Ah, that's just an old war wound now, Pops..."
___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Back inside the base, Nagase was "interrogating" Blaze about Cipher.
"...but what was he like?" she asked.
"He never talked about himself, really," replied Blaze. "I suppose he didn't like to. But, as I knew him, he was cool-headed and proud; a combat profesional. He lived to protect the meek, as well as that in which he believed."
"Why didn't you tell us he trained you until we were in the air?" asked Nagase.
"Because I didn't want to get any specail treatment--"
"Blaze, take my word for it; this base doesn't know the meaning of special treatment," informed Nagase, at which Blaze let out a sigh of relief.
"Thank God for that," breathed Blaze. "Listen, I'm tired, and I know you are, too, so let's get to bed."
"OK," conceded Nagase, "see you in the morning."
"Sleep well," replied Blaze, "and thanks for hearing me out."
"Anything to help a comrade," replied Nagase. Blaze shut out the light.
I'm gonna sleep good tonight, he thought as he nodded off.
___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
1: Referencing "Ghost Rider" there.
2: Lucky potion from "Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince".
3: Stole that line from "Independence Day".
A/N: Sorry for this being so ungodly long, but I feel that the chapters have to be like that in order to fully capture the spirit of the game. Expect a lot more of chapters like this one.
TBC
NEXT: Open War.
