Author Note: Well hello there gang, I want to make the biggest apology for taking so long to post a new chapter. Few things as to why, first off work is trying to kill me and I need the money if I want to take college classes this fall. Second, my beta reader that I dare not continue without has been gone so until she got back I was perfectly comfortable waiting. Thus I'd have more waiting till she got back but that's the third problem, my muse has got muse-napped! It either jumped shipped and is hiding from me, or it got taken. So my conclusion is that it's somewhere buried next to Jimmy Hoffa and till I can find it, I might take a while then again who the hell knows. Again, my sincere apologies for taking so long to come up with a new update.

Many thanks goes out Jamieson. You are thee most patient person I have ever meet, going and reading my stuff. Thank you sooooooooo much girl, seriously! (hugs)

Also thanks to those that reviewed, (hugs goes out to you as well), I'm glad some are enjoying this story!

Part 2

Ferguson sat down at the long table with the other soldiers eating their dinner. He upped his head, giving a soft nod to a fellow soldier as he sat down in front of Mitchell, who was currently to busy ingesting his own food.

"Is it just me, or is this looking more less like food and starting to take on the appearance as dogshit?"

Mitchell glanced up swallowing his food and then his eyes went back down to his plate shrugging his shoulders. "Quit your bellyaching and eat your damn food, if not somebody else will for yah. In fact." Mitchell grabbed the piece of bread sitting on the edge of Bryce's plate.

"Hey!" Bryce griped.

Mitchell shrugged his shoulders, "Well you snooze you lose my friend," he said with a full mouth.

"Nice table manners." Mitchell gave an innocent look as he swallowed the clump of bread down. Usually his table manners were respectful and good as any true southern boy would be. But in the military you got away with a lot of things, and you also picked up some very bad habits as well.

Ferguson began digging into his food when he glanced, just as Mitchell did when one of the Lieutenant Colonel walked by, one who happened to be a female officer. Ferguson let out a low whistle. "Sometimes, I swear man life is not fair, like to see what's…."

But before he could finish that sentence, Mitchell interjected. "Hey, remember she is your superior, I can just see what would happen if the wrong person heard you." Mitchell's eyes glanced around, checking to make sure nobody was eavesdropping on their conversation.

"Yeah, and she can show her superior rank over and over," Ferguson muttered under his breath as Mitchell just shook his head, wondering sometimes about his friend.

Silence passed over the two as they finished eating the food in front of them, before it grew cold and even more unappealing. Mitchell finished his meal and he waited for Ferguson to finish, then got up to throw away his stuff.

"So did you get that 'top secret, tell nobody' letter about new testing technology with jets or something like that?" Ferguson asked as he put his tray down next to the many others in the designated spot. He knew he could trust Mitchell with such a question, for one he had the same clearance and was of the same rank. Second Mitchell was just as good of a pilot as himself so it would only make sense that he would get that same kind of letter.

"Yeah actually I did, about them looking for a squadron leader….Don't tell me, your really thinking they would trust you with new technology of theirs?" Mitchell asked as they exited the lunchroom and made their way towards their sleeping quarters.

"Well I say my odds are good, being they allow you to even fly the jets without having you tied to a rope so you can't go too far."

Mitchell smiled, keeping in step with Bryce. "Well then, it looks like we'll both be fighting for that position, may the best man win." He saw that Ferguson was about to reply and stopped him by speaking up quickly, "And don't say, 'there's no points for second place'."

"Didn't have to, you all ready did." Ferguson smiled, then went into his room and closed the door as Mitchell did the same.

Cameron Mitchell's eyes shot open. Still half asleep, he tried to figure out what woke him up so suddenly. Then it happened, a blast large enough to damn near throw him onto the floor, causing his ears to ring from the explosion.

Scrambling to his feet he began hopping towards the door as he was putting his foot into his fatigues. Grabbing the weapon laying on the dresser he undid the safety and cocked it back, readying the deadly firearm. Nearly bringing the door off its hinges as he opened it he found Ferguson on the opposite side pulling his shirt over his head. He also had his gun in hand, and as he cleared the head hole of the shirt he glanced at Mitchell.

"What the hell is happening?" Ferguson asked as they began jogging down the small hallway, joined by the other men.

"Either we're under attack, or the military found a new wake up call," Mitchell replied.

They made it back to where they had dinner only a few hours ago. The lights were turned off and no visible damage to the area was noticeable. Glancing back, Mitchell found boys who didn't look over eighteen waiting for his or Ferguson's orders. 'When did I suddenly become older then everybody else?'

Mitchell was ready to figure out where and how they were being attacked but he did not want to give orders to boys, didn't want to put them in danger if he could help it. If all were possible he would send them the other way, and jump into the lions den himself in order to protect them. 'Which might not be such a bad idea,' he thought as he glanced at their hands and found most of them was without weapons. 'Did they learn anything in basic training?'

"Look, I want you to follow Major Ferguson and go scrap up some armor. I'm going to find were these assholes are coming from, meet me back here in ten minutes."

Mitchell gave no time for Bryce to reject his order, as he turned on his heel and ran towards the exit at the far end of the cafeteria, leading outside. Ferguson, with mouth half open, turned around and glanced at the men looking to him, waiting for his order. He found the highest-ranking officer and told the men to follow that officer to the armory. He then sprinted towards the direction in which Mitchell had disappeared

When he arrived outside he was worried Mitchell would be long gone, but was more than surprise to see him pressed up against the building, looking around the corner. He was studying the situation and trying to figure out his next maneuver before he acted. Ferguson came up behind Cameron, who turned around and looked him up and down, then moved back to glancing around the corner.

"I thought I told them to follow you?"

Ferguson let out and snort, who positioned himself to see what was going on, then turned back around to make sure nobody would come up from behind and attack them.

"Sure and let you have all the fun? Besides I have to watch your ass in case you do something irrational, can't be babysitting a bunch of rookies."

"Well, I'm about to do that irrational, impatient thing that I'm known for."

Ferguson was all most afraid to ask his friend what he had in mind. If there was one thing Mitchell was known for, it was being a bit of a hothead. He did not think of the consequences of his actions, and went by the seat of his pants, so to speak. But with the type of jobs they had, you couldn't stand around and think to long. You had to be quick on your feet, and if you thought to long, you were dead.

Wetting his lips and checking their backs again, he asked the question he feared, "So you going to tell me this great idea?"

"Had no intention of it, but since you kindly asked." Mitchell replied, letting his sense of humor come out to ease his nerves and adrenaline that was surging off the Richter scale.

"They're attacking us from the north, my idea is to come from behind them and attack them that way."

"We should wait, go regroup with our men that way..." but Mitchell cut him off in mid-sentence.

"Why, so they can take out more of us? You can wait, go get them, and meet me there, but I'm not standing around any longer." Mitchell then bolted from his hiding place heading for the fence that surrounded their base.

Ferguson shook his head. "Who does he think he is, Schwarzenegger?" he said out loud as he thought for just one second about going and getting their backup. But then he decided against it. Mitchell would need all the help he could get.

He then pursued his crazy friend.

TBC…