Ace Combat: Brave New World

by AurelianAce

When the Golden Axe Plan was defeated, nobody would expect another major crisis, especially not anyone in Martinez Security. Unfortunately, they couldn't be any more wrong. Sequel to Ace Combat: Joint Assault. **UPDATE** *Read my profile bio. It will show how I'll act against toxic reviews from now on and why.*

3. Chapter 2: Enemy Fleet

Ace Combat: Brave New World

Chapter 2:Enemy Fleet

To Slovenian folk: The name was Yura, don't worry. However, I'm not hiding my head in the sand, far from it. I'm facing the situation the best I can. As I pointed out, I have no problem with people complaining about the quality of my fics, but as you might see in my DeviantArt account (if you didn't, please take a look at it to understand the situation), I don't take the insults and impoliteness they posted in their reviews at all. Sorry if you think I'm evading the problem by deleting their comments, but I'm merely applying the rules I posted yesterday in my profile bio; the likes of users like Yura, who can't express their complaints politely are from now on persona non grata in my profile. Also, thanks for your critic. I'll do my best to solve that problem of my lack of descriptions and poorly-written dialogues.

Pacific Ocean, 350 miles east of U.S, July 16th 2016, 10:31 Hours; Weather: Sunny, few clouds

An UH-60 Blackhawk landed on the deck of the carrier, carrying four pilots of Martinez Security: Marlene Davenport, Hansel Foulke, Yolanda Vásquez, and Arthur Bartlett. They had been asked for help by the admiral Jonathan Overbeck, who was already on the deck, ready to greet them.

-"Welcome to the Independence, ladies and gentlemen!"-Overbeck roared over the noise of the helicopter's blades, which eventually died off.

The Gerald Ford-class carrier, called Independence, had an escort of two Aegis destroyers, called Montana and Washington; four frigates, and a couple of submarines, the North Carolina and the South Carolina. Overbeck escorted the Martinez Security pilots to the main hangar.

-"So, Admiral. What kind of planes are available to us?"-asked Davenport.

-"Most of the aircraft here are F/A-18Fs and F-35Cs, but most, if not all of them, are already assigned to USN pilots."-answered Overbeck.-"However, we've got a couple of F/A-18Cs and a couple of F-14Ds that are currently available to any pilot who needs them."

-"Like us now."-quipped Foulke.-"By the way, weren't the F-14s supposed to be retired already from the Navy?"

-"Exactly, Mr Foulke. However, the F-14Ds are in operational condition, and despite not being in first line anymore they're too valuable to be retired, especially since Wernher and Noah supplies us with anything we need."-stated Overbeck.-"You people will have quarters assigned for every one of you. The planes' technical files and compatible weaponry tables will be given to you by maintenance crew. Ask for a man called Benjamin Harris. He'll help you out."

In the main hangar, the four planes were being given routine maintenance.

-"I'd help you guys myself, but I've got duties to do. A fleet, no matter how small, needs to be managed properly. Feel free to ask for anything you need."-said Overbeck, as he left.

The four pilots walked into the hangar. Davenport walked towards a woman with greasy overalls, brown hair and blue eyes who was checking the air pressure in the wheels of an F/A-18C Hornet.

-"Excuse me, miss. We're looking for a guy named Harris."-she said.

The woman, a mechanic surnamed Baker, turned to Davenport.

-"Ben's on that Tomcat, checking the engines."-said Baker, pointing toward the F-14D on the far side of the hangar.-"By the way, welcome aboard."

-"Thanks."-said Davenport.

Davenport and the others headed to the F-14D, where a man with grey hair and brown eyes fiddled with the left engine.

-"Damn, this F-14's engines are a pain in the ass to maintain."-the man complained.-"Thank Wernher and Noah for supplying the Tomcat parts at a special price. Otherwise we'd retired these relics of the Cold War a decade ago."

-"Mister Harris!"-said Foulke.

-"Huh? Who's there?"-asked Harris, turning to the person who called him.-"Who are you guys?"

-"We're the Martinez Security pilots."-said Vásquez.-"Overbeck told us to ask for you."

-"Oh, yeah, the "privateers"."-said Harris.-"What do you people need."

-"We need the technical files and weapons compatibility files of the Hornet and Tomcat, sir."-said Bartlett.

-"Don't call me "sir", son."-said Harris.-"I know I'm older than any of you guys, but that's beside the point. Come with me to the main office."

The four pilots followed the mechanic to the office, which had a large window that allowed him to supervise the entire hangar. Davenport, Foulke, Vásquez and Bartlett sat down on respective chairs while Harris searched for the technical files.

-"Let's see, Tomcat, Tomcat, Tomcat,..."-murmured Harris, as he searched for the files.-"Ah, here it is. And the Hornet's are... here!"

Harris took two copies of each aircraft's manuals them on the main desk. All four files included the respective aircrafts' background, avionics details, and compatible weapons.

-"I guess you can make do with two copies of each plane's files."-said Harris.-"However, feel free to ask for another copy if you need them."

-"For now, these four will suffice."-said Davenport.-"Thanks for everything, Harris."

-"No need to thank me, lady."-said Harris.-"By the way, you're "Duke" Davenport's daughter, right?"

-"Yes, I am."-replied Davenport.-"So, what about it?"

-"Just asking."-answered Harris.-"I heards rumors about you, but I don't give credit to them. A person is as worthy as they believe themselves to be, not as much as others think they are."

-"I see. Don't mind my tone then. I'm just too used to be ostracized because of my father."-said Davenport.

-"That's not good."-stated Harris.-"No matter what happened to him, it's not your fault, and it's not your duty to pay for it."

-"At least there are people smart enough to understand that."-said Foulke.

-"However, there are people, in this very ship no less, that do not think as I do."-warned Harris.-"You'd better be careful with those, for they may be ruthless."

-"Thanks for the heads-up, Harris."-said Davenport.-"We'll read the files here, if you don't mind."

-"Of course I don't. I'll return to my maintenance tasks."-said Harris, as he left the room.

Davenport and Vásquez read the F-14Ds manuals while Foulke and Bartlett read the F/A-18Cs. According to the manuals, the F-14D, along with standard missiles and gun ammo, carried 8 SAAMs as a primary special weapon, with its optional weapons being 6 GPBs, 8 XLAAs and 6 QAAMs. The F/A-18C, on the other hand, while it also had SAAMs, it carried only six, and all the other special weapons were 8 4AGMs, 4 LASMs, and 6 UGBs, which meant that the F-14D was a more air superiority-oriented aircraft, and the F/A-18C would always be a multirole fighter. Furthermore, the F-14D was faster than the F/A-18C, although that came at the cost of less structural resistance.

-"How are we going to deploy this time, Marlene?"-asked Foulke.

-"Yolanda and I will take the F-14Ds."-said Davenport.-"I'll choose GPBs as a secondary weapon to attack the ships."

-"Fine by me. I'll load my F-14D with XLAAs."-said Vásquez.-"If we meet any fighters, I'll use the XLAAs to intercept them."

-"The XLAAs are not too good in air-to-air combat outside of interception."-said Foulke.-"And I think they still have five GAF-1s in their possession."

-"They do offer a good advantage over the SAAMs."-said Bartlett.-"The XLAAs have a longer range than the SAAMs and don't require a constant tracking. Also, the GPBs will be very useful in case they have carriers, which, considering the GAF-1s dissapeared over the sea, is a safe bet."

-"Then it's settled for us."-said Davenport.-"How about you guys?"

-"I'll choose the 4AGMs this time."-said Foulke.-"In different circumstances, I'd go for the LASMs, but I guess this is a good opportunity for Arthur to get some air-to-surface training."

-"The only drawback I see for the LASMs is that the Hornets only carry four of them."-said Davenport.-"The 4AGMs are less powerful, but the Hornet can carry twice the amount."

-"I guess I can handle that."-said Bartlett.-"I'll target the heavier ships, since the LASMs are stronger."

-"So, I'll take the carriers, if they have, Yolanda will fly escort, Hansel will take lighter ships, and you Arthur will take out heavier ships."-Davenport summed up.-"Any questions?"

-"Just one, although is more of a suggestion than a question."-said Foulke.-"Since all of us have SAAMs, we could take out enemy fighters on each other's tail."

-"In that case, I'm calling dibs on not pairing up with Bartlett."-said Vásquez.

-"You're not going to have to."-said Davenport before Bartlett could interject.-"You're going to cover us all, while Arthur, Hansel and I attack the ships. Which multiplies the number of airplanes you have to cover threefold."

-"Fine by me."-said Vásquez.-"The more fighters I get to shoot down, the better for me."

-"Then it's settled."-said Davenport.-"Let's talk to Overbeck to get our quarters' location."

Davenport and the others took the files with when they left Harris' office. They looked for Overbeck's office, taking about 10 minutes to reach the office. Davenport knocked on the door when they got there. Fifteen seconds later, Overbeck opened the door.

-"Come in, ladies and gentlemen."-said Overbeck, as he returned to his desk.-"I see Harris has already provided you with the aircrafts' files. What else do you guys need?"

-"We need the location of our quarters, sir."-said Davenport.

-"Well, they're right here."-said Overbeck, as he picked up the blueprint of the quarters section and pointed the quarters assigned to the Antares squadron members.-"Rooms 501 and 502. You'll have to make do with two rooms, though."

-"We'll manage."-said Foulke.-"By the way, how is the search going?"

-"Our radars show an enemy fleet about 900 miles west of our current position, heading 260 at 20 knots."-said Overbeck.-"It's going to take at least two more days to catch up with them, and we're expected to catch up with them just north of Hawaii. Our orders are simple: destroy them on sight."

-"What if the GAF-1s were deployed?"-said Davenport.-"I'm concerned about the safety of the carrier."

-"Apart from the CIWS system, a group of destroyers and a couple of submarines, we've got at least twelve planes, totalling two squadrons ready to be deployed."-answered Overbeck.-"And we've got you guys on our side."

-"Yeah, but the GAF-1s are no ordinary aircraft."-objected Foulke.-"And deploying so many aircraft takes some time."

-"Our squadrons are ready and waiting to be sortied."-replied Overbeck.-"We keep our planes in good shape, even the older ones we've provided you guys with."

-"In that case, I guess we have nothing to worry about, right?"-asked Davenport.

-"In your particular case, Davenport, other than a handful of, let's say, cranky pilots, none."-said Overbeck.

-"Is that so?"-replied Davenport.-"If that's true, let me tell you one thing, Admiral. I'm not a person who actively asks for truble; I'm more the type of person that unwittingly gets in them."

-"Let's hope you don't."-said Overbeck.-"Now, get to your quarters and get some rest. This travel must have been a bit exhausting for you people."

The four mercenaries left the room and headed to their quarters.

-"Am I the only one who thinks that Overbeck is keeping something to himself?"-asked Foulke.

-"Absolutely not."-answered Davenport.-"And I don't think it's the fact that a handful of pilots may hackle me."

-"What? Are you two afraid of some sort of conspiracy?"-asked Yolanda.

-"I don't know what the USN is trying to pull, or even if they are."-replied Foulke.-"However, if my suspicions are correct, when shit hits the fan, we're going to be in serious trouble."

-"Why do you think the Navy is going to backstab us?"-said Bartlett.-"I mean, they've already provided us with everything, from information to planes and weapons."

-"That's the issue, Arthur."-said Davenport.-"Since we're mercenaries, and despite the fact that Foulke and I saved San Francisco a handful of weeks ago, I don't think the USN is truly on our side. This is too good to be true. I suggest we keep our eyes peeled and hit the trail if things go south."

-"But where?"-asked Vásquez.-"I don't think we can find a conveniently placed base in the middle of the Pacific Ocean."

-"That's what I'm worried about."-replied Davenport.-"If things go south before we get to the mainland, Asia or Oceania, our fate would be sealed in the worst possible way."

-"In that case, let's stick together and trust no one but us."-suggested Foulke.

The group got to their quarters eventually, where they had flight suits and spare clothes in a cabinet to the left side of the room, along with bunks opposite to the cabinets and a small restroom with a shower on the other side of the room.

-"So, how are we going to split the rooms?"-asked Vásquez.

-"I suggest we split the rooms this way: Hansel will share the room with Arthur, and I'll share my room with you."-suggested Davenport.-"I can see there's not much of a good blood between you and Bartlett, and there's no way I'm letting you sleep in the same room as Hansel."

-"Are you being jealous, Mein Liebe?"-asked Foulke with a coy grin.

-"W-what? No, I'm not!"-replied Davenport, blushing.

-"Don't worry, Davenport."-answered Vásquez.-"Right now, getting a boyfriend is not one of my priorities, by any means."

-"Anyway, if I'm not mistaken, lunch is served at the mess hall at 1:30 PM. I suggest we get some rest before then."-said Davenport.

Foulke and Bartlett entered room 502, and Davenport and Vásquez entered room 501.

-"So, what's going on between Foulke and you?"-asked Vásquez.-"I noticed how close you two are, and you were quite on the defensive when he asked you if you were jealous."

-"You're quite perceptive, Yolanda."-said Davenport, downcast.-"We've been an item for some weeks, but we've had little contact lately."

-"Really? How come?"-asked Vásquez.

-"He's been in the hospital after he was shot down trying to protect me."-replied Davenport.-"By the way, why are you asking that? I thought you weren't interested in getting a boyfriend."

-"I'm not. I'm just asking."-retorted Vásquez.-"I guess it's a bit of a touchy subject for you."

-"It is. Hansel has been through some nasty crap during his life."-said Davenport.-"He only opened up to me very recently. When we first met, he was untrusty and short-tempered."

-"Well, at least he seems to be a bit better than Bartlett."-said Vásquez.-"I don't like him. He's not nearly skilled enough to be able to pull off this mission. I would be very surprised if he lives for a week."

-"Let's hope that doesn't happen."-said Davenport.-"Hansel has already lost twelve wingmen, and losing a single pilot more would be devastating for us."

-"Twelve!?"-repeated Vásquez, shocked.-"¡La madre que lo parió! That's a lot of pilots. How many years has he been serving in Martinez Security?"

-"Eight-ish years, give or take."-said Davenport.

-"So, he's lost a mean of one pilot every eight months."-guessed Vásquez.

-"Exactly. The icing on the cake is that his previous wingman was killed during his first mission."-said Davenport.-"All because Milosz Sulejmani, a former pilot of Martinez Security, had sold him faulty missiles."

-"He did what?"-asked Vásquez, perplexed.

-"Exactly what I said. Sulejmani also tried to pull the same trick on me, but just when I was about to decline, Hansel interjected."-said Davenport.-"He was still reeling from all the losses he had suffered, and I just laughed at him on his back for that."

-"Poor guy."-sighed Vásquez.-"And I thought I had pulled the short straw when..."

Vásquez went silent mid-phrase.

-"When what?"-asked Davenport.

-"Nothing!"-replied Vásquez, too forcefully, not looking at Davenport.-"Just forget what I said!"

To say that Davenport was flabbergasted by Vásquez's reaction was an understatement. Vásquez opened her F-14 manual and started reading, not paying attention to Davenport for the rest of the time they spent in the room.

Meanwhile, Foulke and Bartlett had entered their room.

-"By the way, I call dibs on the top bunk."-said Foulke as he closed the door behind him, with a smirk.

-"Well, at least my fall will be the softest."-replied Bartlett, half expecting an irated retort from his senior wingman.

To his surprise, he just chuckled.

-"You've got a good sense of humor, my friend."-said Foulke, patting him on the shoulder.-"By the way, you've got the hots for Miss Vásquez, right?"

Bartlett blushed hard, downcast.

-"Well,... I, uh..."-he stammered.-"I mean, she's beautiful, but she turned out to be quite a harsh and overbearing girl."

-"Is it something personal?"-asked Foulke.

-"I guess that, when we first met, I must have looked at her too funny, because she talked to me as if I had said something lewd to her."-said Bartlett.-"She also treats me like I'm a klutz."

-"I'm not the best person at giving advice to others when it comes to relationships, since I've been a loner for most of my life."-said Foulke, sitting down on the lower bunk.-"But let me tell you this: you shouldn't get involved with her unless it's necessary. Take things slow, and if things go right, you two will be on better terms."

-"But, what if things take a turn for the worse?"-asked Bartlett.

-"In that case, you will not be able to say that you didn't try."-replied Foulke.

-"I sure hope you're right."-said Bartlett.-"By the way, do you agree with Davenport?"

-"You mean on her hunch that the USN is trying to do something that we're better off not being part of?"-asked Foulke.-"I'd like to believe she's wrong, because we're on a very precarious position as of now. Most of Martinez Security's aircraft are destroyed and somehow we haven't been contacted by Wernher and Noah, or any other aircraft manufacturing corporation, to get replacement aircraft. To make matters worse, we're on a top notch aircraft carrier with enough firepower and warplanes to take out a small country in a matter of weeks. If Marlene turns out to be right, we only have a bunch of older aircraft to defend ourselves, and an entire ocean all around us."

-"I guess that's how the USS Indianapolis crew felt after their battleship was sunk."-said Bartlett.-"I read some articles about it. Nightmare fuel is too mild to describe it."

-"However, if we're heading where I think we are, we might have a chance to survive."-said Foulke.

-"Where exactly?"-asked Bartlett.

-"You'll see."-replied Foulke, cryptically.

The two men remained silent, reading their respective aircrafts' manuals until a siren rang out at about 13:00 hours. Seconds later, they heard a knock on the door.

-"Guys, it's lunch time."-said Davenport from the other side of the door.-"Let's get something to eat before the mess hall gets too crowded."

Foulke and Bartlett followed Vásquez and Davenport to the mess hall. Ten minutes later, they were eating in the mess hall, along with many pilots, officers and personnel. Davenport could swear many people were taking glances at her and whispering between each other, something she had come to loath during her short service in the Navy.

It only took a turn for the worse when a tough-looking man with brown hair and grey eyes approached her and her wingmen with a despective look of superiority in his face.

-"Well, well, well, if it isn't "Duke"'s little daughter."-he said. The badge in his uniform identified him as a pilot surnamed Crenshaw.

The four Martinez Security pilots turned around to face the man. Bartlett and Vásquez seemed a bit confused, not knowing what the man was talking about. Foulke was ready to act in case thing went south, since he knew about his girlfriend's past. Davenport, on the other hand, looked like she was one insult away from seething.

-"What do you want?"-Davenport asked, dryly.

-"Oh, nothing much."-said Crenshaw.-"I was just wondering why the hell would Overbeck welcome a bunch of mercenaries in our carrier. Especially since Marlene Davenport happens to be one of them."

-"Whatever reason Overbeck has to ask for our help is none of your business, flyboy."-replied Foulke, glaring at Crenshaw.-"In fact, you guys should be thankful that we bothered to assist you to begin with."

-"Don't make me laugh."-said Crenshaw.-"You mercs are not only a bunch of sell-outs, but your flight skills are mediocre at best."

-"Is that so?"-asked Davenport.-"You can try and talk all kind of shit you want about us, Crenshaw, but at least, not a single soldier in Martinez Security brown-nosed their way into their place. And you look like the kind of guy who's got his nose so far up the top brass' ass that you wouldn't even sneeze without their say-so. You're far from what anyone would call a pilot."

-"You still got that nerve that always got you in trouble in the Navy."-retorted Crenshaw, coldly.-"But nonetheless, I'm curious as to what you had to do to be hired by Martinez Security; not only because of your criminal background, but because of your father's gross misconduct during his service."

The connotation of Crenshaw's words were too much for the four MS pilots, who stood up from the table they were on.

-"Du Hurrensohn!"-said Foulke, irated.-"You know absolutely nothing about her father."

-"I know everything I need to know, little shit. Davenport's father was a pilot who got most of his squadron killed in the Middle East."-replied Crenshaw.-"By the way, did she tell you that the officer she murdered was my older brother?"

-"I wouldn't give a shit even if he was your father, you clown."-retorted Foulke.-"If you even bothered to make some investigation, your "saint" of a brother tried to rape her."

-"That's what she keeps repeating on and on like a broken record."-said Crenshaw.-"And I guess you and the other two weekend pilots behind you bought that like discount fish."

-"Sexual assault is not something you can make up, imbécil."-said Vásquez.-"You males seem to forget that at the drop of a hat at your own convenience."

-"Why don't you keep your mouth shut, spic rookie?"-scoffed Crenshaw.

-"Crenshaw, insulting me is one thing, and by doing that you're already treading on thin ice."-hissed Davenport, on the verge of knocking the tar out of Davenport.-"But insulting and giving orders to my wingmen is one affront too many."

-"So what? What are you gonna do? Slap me?"-snarled Crenshaw.-"Just lie one finger on me, I dare you. You'll be kicked out of this carrier before you can blink."

-"I speak for every voice of reason when I say that the Navy needs us more than ever."-said Bartlett.-"If we, who have seen at least once what we're about to fight, are barely prepared for the futuristic aircraft our enemy is supposed to possess, you guys don't even fathom the gravity of the situation."

-"Kid, I've had more flight hours the last week that you'll ever have in your entire life. You'd be very wise to watch your petty mouth."-retorted Crenshaw, before turning to Davenport.-"And Davenport, you'd better keep a short leash and a tight muzzle on your British loser, your spigotty escort and your Nazi Germany whore."

As soon as he finished that sentence, Davenport snapped. She rushed to Crenshaw and punched him in his stomach, doubling him over. Before either of them could continue the fight, all literal Hell broke loose in the mess hall: several Navy pilots and the three Martinez Security pilots rushed to both Davenport and Crenshaw and pulled them apart, while both of them screamed their lungs out, cursing each other; military police shot blanks in the air to dissuade any possible further fighting, while making their way towards the two pilots involved in the fight. The MPs eventually handcuffed both Davenport and Crenshaw, and took them out of the mess hall to Overbeck's office.

Once the situation cooled down, Foulke, Vásquez and Bartlett looked for Davenport, who was waiting outside of Overbeck's office, custodied by two MPs. As soon as they approached her, one of the policemen raised his MP5K on Foulke, whol was leading the other two.

-"Easy there, seaman."-said Foulke.-"We're here just to talk with Davenport."

-"We have explicit orders of custodying her."-replied the man, lowering his submachine gun very slightly.

-"First off, does any of us three seem like we care?"-asked Foulke.-"And second, this corridor only has two exits. You two can get to either exit, and if we try to bolt, you can catch us in the crossfire."

-"Fine by us."-said the other MP, a woman.-"You try that and we kill you three."

-"You said you three. What about Davenport?"-asked Bartlett.

-"Davenport is scheduled to meet Overbeck as soon as Crenshaw leaves."-replied the first MP.-"We can't just get her inside full of holes."

-"Flaco consuelo."-said Vásquez.-"I bet fifty bucks Overbeck is going to rebuke her till we get wherever we're going."

The two MPs headed to either side of the corridor, watching the mercenaries' every move.

-"First off, tell me, Marlene."-said Foulke, who was not in a good mood.-"What, if you were, were you thinking when you beat that pilot?"

-"I'm telling you this here and now, Hansel, and this goes for you two too."-said Daveport to her wingmen.-"Nobody, and I mean nobody, friend, foe, or otherwise, insults my wingmen, no matter the circumnstances."

-"That's nice and all, miss Davenport."-said Bartlett.-"But you went too over the top, and we're here just because of Overbeck."

-"Overbeck can't back down now, even if he wanted, which, given the situation, is at best unlikely."-said Davenport.

-"Are you sure they need us, and not the other way around?"-wondered Vásquez.

-"Yolanda, if those GAF-1s are still on the loose, the Navy does not stand a chance against them, and I'm being very optimistic on the Navy."-replied Davenport.-"We've all seen first-hand how destructive those planes are, and a fleet this size is no match for them."

-"Yeah, but Martinez Security does not have the necessary resources to take out our enemy, whatever they are."-said Foulke.-"You're treading on thin ice here, Marlene, and I'm not sure Overbeck will let this one slide."

Shortly after, Crenshaw left the office, fuming. He glared at Davenport, who return the angry look, while her wingmen stood by her side, ready to intervene.

-"Davenport, come in!"-screamed Overbeck.

After being uncuffed by the MPs, Davenport entered the office, followed by the other three pilots. Overbeck was sitting behind his desk, a stern look on his face. After they closed the door behind them, Overbeck stood up.

-"Marlene Davenport, you have been just a handful of hours in my carrier, and you've already caused a lot of trouble."-said Overbeck.

-"Sir, whatever that pilot told you, he..."-said Davenport.

-"Dont. Interrupt. Me."-replied Overbeck.-"I hope you have a good reason to justify an assault on my top pilot."

-"You can bet his life on that."-said Davenport.-"Your so-called top pilot started insulting me and my wingmen from the very first second he talked to us, and absolutely nobody did anything to stop him until after I punched him when he crossed the line."

-"Still, you've crossed the line, Davenport, something you've been doing all the time even when you still were in the Navy, according to the reports."-continued Overbeck.-"Samuel Crenshaw is our top ace, and he placed first in his class at the Navy's TOPGUN school last year."

-"Oh, is he now?"-asked Davenport.-"What did he do? Shoot down some static drones with long-range missiles?"

-"No, he's actually completed the course with an impeccable score."-said Overbeck.-"He's the only pilot so far to have defeated each and every instructor in DACT combat. His reports are unquestionable: he's virtually undefeateble."

-"Whether he's your top pilot or not, he has no right to insult others, no matter the circumstance."-replied Davenport, unimpressed.

-"Your reputation is your problem, miss."-retorted Overbeck.-"And it's you the one who has to deal with it."

Davenport's fists tightened when Overbeck said that, to the point where the nails dug into her palms and drew blood.

-"You want me and my wingmen out of your ship, officer?"-she spat.-"You only have to say the word. But remember that, if my suspicions are correct, your fleet will be reduced to a scrap heap on the bottom of the Pacific Ocean, and not even your "hot shot" Crenshaw will be able to prevent that."

-"In any other circumstances, you and your wingmen would be out of my carrier as soon as we got to Hawaii. But you do make a point when you say that my fleet would not stand a chance against the GAF-1s. That is your saving grace."-said Overbeck.-"However, once we get this crisis sorted out, you four will not be welcome in this ship any longer than the trip to either the mainland or the islands. For now, you and your wingmen will remain in your quarters until further notice. Dismissed."

With that, Davenport left the office fuming, with Foulke, Vásquez and Bartlett following her to their quarters, escorted by the MPs.

-"Well, guess we're boned now."-said Bartlett.

-"You can say that again, kid."-said Foulke.

-"And all because a glorified asshole couldn't keep his bloody mouth shut."-sighed Davenport.

-"Well, this "glorified asshole" is gonna be flying with us, like it or not."-said Vásquez.

-"I just hope the GAF-1s get him before we can help him."-said Davenport.-"It would be glorious to see his inflated ego burst like a bubble."

-"Fifty bucks he wets his pants in less than twenty seconds after he engages one."-said Foulke.

-"I bet he'd piss himself just after seeing how tight those SOBs can turn."-said Davenport.

-"I wouldn't blame him, though."-said Bartlett.-"I've already seen those planes once, and that's one time too many."

-"Of course you'd say that."-said Vásquez.-"Davenport, Foulke and I are pilots. You're nothing but an ex-mechanic."

-"Yolanda, there's no need to be so hostile."-rebuked Foulke.-"When all's said and done, we're all part of the same squadron, no matter our past."

-"That aside, he's got barely a few hours of flight under his belt."-Vásquez retorted.-"I can't trust someone like that to watch my back on the battlefield."

-"What about you?"-asked Davenport.-"How many hours of real combat, besides your time as a Martinez Security pilot, have you got?"

Vásquez remained silent.

-"Thought so."-continued Davenport.-"You treat Bartlett like shit under your shoes, but you two are on the same situation combat-wise. I've been fighting ever since I joined Martinez Security last November, and Hansel has been fighting for about eight years."

-"So, why are you our flight lead, and not him?"-asked Vásquez.-"If we rank pilots by experience, you come quite short compared to him."

-"Turns out that she earned it."-answered Foulke.-"On June, she outperformed me as a pilot."

-"No, I didn't. You were shot down trying to cover me."-replied Davenport, sorrowfully.-"Had I been more careful, you wouldn't have been shot down, and you'd still be the flight lead."

-"Despite that, you managed to survive and take down those Golden Axe Plan bastards by yourself."-said Foulke.-"Being shot down to protect such pilot is a small price for victory, especially if you survive that scenario."

-"You got lucky."-said Davenport.-"Not all people get a second chance after such disaster."

The group finally arrived to their quarters, and the MPs left.

-"Vásquez, Bartlett, can you get to your quarters?"-asked Foulke.-"I want to talk with Marlene for a moment, if you catch my drift."

The two pilots got in their respective quarters, while Foulke and Davenport stood outside.

-"Marlene, I'm grateful for you standing out for me, but this one has been a foolish move, no matter how you slice it."-admonished Foulke.

-"I know it was not wise."-replied Davenport.-"But it's not easy to control yourself when some dipshit trash-talks about your friends and your loved one."

-"Still, we're in a USN carrier, and we only have ourselves to watch our backs, since I'm with you on your suspicions about this op."-answered Foulke.-"Last thing we need right now is to give these guys a reason more to hate our guts."

-"As far as I'm concerned, it's Crenshaw who's to blame."-said Davenport.-"He started this, not me."

-"I know, and I'm sure Bartlett and Vásquez do too."-said Foulke.-"But I guess those Navy guys don't give a damn about it. They might use that as an excuse to take us out during this mission."

-"If my suspicions are correct, they might already have one."-replied Davenport.-"A mere mess hall fight is not going to be enough reason for them to decide to kill us."

Foulke sighed. As much as he loved her, he knew all too well that Davenport was as strong-headed as a cape buffalo. As he looked down in defeat, he noticed the blood trickling between her fingers. In a reflex, he reached for her hands.

-"I clenched my fists too much during Overbeck's talk."-said Davenport, answering Foulke's unspoken question as he held her hands.-"Just minor cuts. Nothing to worry about."

Foulke nodded, accepting her explanation. It was then when they realized that since the moment before the briefing back at Martinez Security HQ, they never had a moment for themselves. The events that transpired after the training mission had taken control of their lives, and now they were about to face an unknown enemy, the ones who had destroyed their base and killed many of their co-workers.

Foulke and Davenport looked around, to ensure nobody was looking, and shared a short but deep kiss.

-"OK. See you later, Hansel."-said Davenport, breathing heavily.

-"Same here, Marlene."-replied Foulke.-"Take care."

They returned to their quarters, glancing and smiling at each other as they entered.

Pacific Ocean, 500 miles northeast of the Hawaiian archipielago, July 17th 2016, 20:30 Hours; Weather: Sunny, few clouds

The Antares squadron had remained in their quarters evern since they had been left Jonathan Overbeck's office. To Marlene Davenport, this punishment was uncalled for. Not only she had been grounded for beating a pilot who had berated her and her wingmen without previous provocation, but her wingmen also paid the price and were confined in their quarters. All four of them had been prohibited from leaving their quarters, with cooks bringing them their rations when the dinner and lunch times came. Re-reading the aircraft manuals for the umpteenth time was not the entertainment they needed.

Davenport was reading her F-14D manual, while Yolanda Vásquez tossed a baseball back and forth while lying on her bunk, hitting the ceiling sometimes. In other circumnstances, Davenport would have asked her to stop, but in her state of sheer boredom and sensory deprivation, she couldn't care less.

The women were on their respective routines when they heard a knock on the door.

-"Ladies, you and the other two have a briefing with Overbeck!"-said a voice outside.

Sighing, Davenport stood up while Vásquez jumped down of the top bunk.

-"¡Menos mal, joder!"-huffed Vásquez, as she stretched.-"I thought I would never leave this shithole."

-"Took the words right out of my mouth, Vásquez."-replied Davenport.-"One day more in here and I would have gone bananas."

They opened the door, and they saw that on the other side, a couple of MPs were waiting for the four Martinez Security pilots. Hansel Foulke and Arthur Bartlett came out of their quarters a moment after. The MPs escorted the group to the briefing room.

-"We can find our way to the briefing room."-said Davenport.

-"We have orders to keep tabs on you and your group, miss."-replied the MP on the front.-"Especially since your brawl yesterday."

It took not only Davenport, but also the rest of the MS pilots, all of their self-control not to knock the daylights out of those upstart MPs.

Once they arrived to the briefing room, things were not better for them. In the briefing room, twelve pilots waited for the briefing to begin. The four pilots recognized the one sitting in the front row: Samuel Crenshaw, the one responsible for being locked in their quarters. The Navy pilot, along with the ones presumed to be his wingmen, and the Martinez Security pilots glared at each others with hate. Davenport, Foulke Vásquez and Bartlett leaned against the wall opposite to Crenshaw.

Overbeck entered the room shortly after and began his briefing.

-"Ladies and gentlemen, I've got bad news for all of you."-he said, starting a humming murmur in the room.-"Satellite images and UAV images have shown that during these last hours, the fleet we were currently tracking has increased its size dramatically."

-"Excuse me, sir."-said Davenport, raising her hand, and earning a venomous stare from Crenshaw.-"How many ships are we expected to be dealing with as of now?"

-"Around forty-eight ships, including several frigates, destroyers, cruisers, Aegis destroyers, five carriers and a large battleship."-said Overbeck.

-"No problem."-said Crenshaw.-"We USN pilots can take on anything, anytime. Can't say the same for the mercs, though."

-"Sir, do we have any good pictures of the battleship?"-asked Foulke.

-"We managed to get one good photo of the battleship, sent just before the drone that took it was shot down."-replied Overbeck.-"This is it."

As he showed it, most of the pilots in the briefing room whistled in amazement or gasped in shock. Davenport and Foulke, however, knew that ship all too well, and the image they were seeing brought them nothing short of bad memories: four large caliber naval gun turrets in two groups on both bow and stern, with each turret containing three barrels; eight AA guns, mounted in pairs in the port and starboard sides of both the bow and the stern; four CIWS mounted side by side in the central section of the ship; and four SAM launchers, each consisting of six-tube launchers, mounted on both sides of the ship.

-"A Rechin-class battleship?"-asked Foulke.

-"You guys saw one of those before?"-asked Crenshaw.

-"Well, more like had to sink one."-said Davenport.

-"That ship looks like a goddamn fortress."-replied Crenshaw.-"How many planes did you have on your side to sink it, assuming you managed, which I doubt?"

-"It was only Foulke and I, and I can assure you the one we faced is rusting at the bottom of the Dardanelles Strait."-retorted Davenport.-"And to make matters more difficult to us, we had YF-23s and Su-47s bouncing on us while we attacked it."

-"I call BS. That thing alone would end you guys, let alone the YF-23s, and maybe the Su-47s."-said Crenshaw.

-"Say what you want, but you'll only be fooling yourself."-said Foulke.

-"Can we get back to the briefing!?"-asked Overbeck, not too pleased.-"OK, as I was saying, the size of the fleet is forcing us to form the following order of battle: Crenshaw, you and the Coywolf squadron will take care of the battleship before it can cause damage to our fleet."

-"Consider that sucker sunk, Admiral."-said Crenshaw.-"We'll show everyone how a ship is sunk."

-"Try not to ram your plane on the ship, God help me you'd make me happy."-mocked Davenport.-"I'd feel sorry for the guys tasked with scraping your jet off their ship if they weren't our enemies."

Crenshaw balled his fist, angered at Davenport's cockiness, while she chuckled under her breath.

-"Nash, you and the Marlin squadron will be tasked with a double role."-said Overbeck.-"Marlin 1 and 2 will be tasked with sinking the carriers and causing as much damage to the fleet as possible, while Marlin 3 and 4 will establish air superiority while also attacking the fleet at your discretion."

-"Understood, sir."-said a pilot with brown hair and blue eyes, and kinder look than Crenshaw.

-"Antares squadron, your mission will be to support Marlin squadron and take out any targets of opportunity."-said Overbeck.-"You guys have already chosen your aircrafts, weaponry and roles, I guess."

-"Yeah, sure."-mused Crenshaw.

-"Yes, we did."-replied Davenport.-"I've chosen an F-14D, and will take out as many carriers as the GPBs allow me to; Foulke, with an F/A-18C will take out smaller ships with 4AGMs; Vásquez will cover us with her F-14's XLAAs, and Bartlett will sink as many Aegis as he can with the LASMs his F/A-18 carries. Of course, if given the chance, we'll also take out any other aerial threats in the AO."

-"To think that you got everything planned out so soon."-mocked Crenshaw.-"Mighty surprising."

-"Seems like you guys have all wrapped up as far as planning goes."-said Overbeck.-"Comes without saying that all of you pilots will be on compulsory full alert. That means your planes will be ready for launch as soon as we consider this fleet is in danger. Also, I expect utmost cooperation of the three squadrons when the mission begins, no matter the circumstances."

Both Crenshaw and Davenport knew he was talking about the recent brawl, but neither of them seemed to care. Their loathing was mutual.

-"Unfortunately, we are alone in this mission, so we're gonna have to make do with whatever we have, so unless you wanna swim back to port, I suggest you protect the fleet, and especially the carrier, at all costs."-added Overbeck.-"You're all dismissed."

The sixteen pilots left the briefing room. Davenport managed to avoid Crenshaw, much to his dismay. The four Martinez Security pilots were on their way back to their quarters when they heard a voice calling them from behind.

-"Hey, miss Davenport!"-the voice said.

They turned around to see the guy identified as Nash running towards them.

-"So, you and your friends are gonna be flying with us?"-Nash said.

-"Of course."-said Davenport.-"I assume you have no problem, am I right?"

-"I'm actually thankful."-said Nash.-"You seem like a skilled bunch."

-"I wouldn't speak for rubito over here."-said Vásquez, pointing at Bartlett with her thumb.

-"Hey!"-protested Bartlett.

-"Well, better than nothing, I guess."-chuckled Nash.-"By the way, I'm Alexander Nash, but you can call me either Alex or Nash, whichever you prefer. You're Marlene Davenport, but I'm afraid I don't know the rest."

-"They are Hansel Foulke, Yolanda Vásquez and Arthur Bartlett."-said Davenport, introducing Foulke, Vásquez and Bartlett to Nash.-"I really hope we can consider you an ally of sorts. As you already know, popular is not a word I'd use to describe what I am to the rest of the pilots."

-"Don't worry. Crenshaw has quite a lot of ego. Too much for his own good, I dare to say."-replied Nash.-"He may be more skilled than all of the other Navy pilots combined, but he's about as humble as a peacock."

-"No need to say it twice."-said Foulke.-"Sexist, bigoted, uncouth, overbearing, priggish,... The list of adjetives to describe him is not flattering in any sense."

-"I admit he crossed the line yesterday."-said Nash.-"I mean, he looks his nose down at every other pilot, but insulting a bunch of mercenaries who bothered to help us out is too much."

-"Believe it or not, money is really low on our priorities right now."-said Davenport.-"I mean, we will get paid, but for us is a matter of personal offence. Our base was ended a couple of days ago."

-"It is an insult to the US too."-said Nash.-"To think a flight of unidentified aircraft would cross our airspace and get away with it... Someone has to be made accountable for this FUBAR."

-"Well, for now, we have an enemy fleet on our hands, and once we take it out, I'm sure the US will try to find the culprit, or culprits."-said Foulke.-"Well, we've gotta go back to our quarters. See you next time, Alex."

-"Same here, guys."-said Nash, waving them goodbye.

Meanwhile, Crenshaw approached Overbeck.

-"Sir, I'm still wondering why those mercenaries, especially Davenport, are still in the ship."-said the pilot.

-"Crenshaw, we're low on time and on our own."-replied Overbeck.-"Despite all your misgivings, we can't waste our time dropping them off at the Hawaii."

-"However, that doesn't mean you can allow them to sortie on this mission."-said Crenshaw.-"No matter the size of the fleet, we can take it on our own. Hell, with Nash's squadron support alone we can take out those ships with minimal damage to our fleet."

-"Captain Samuel Brandon Crenshaw, "-said Overbeck, fed up.-"if you want your squadron to take part on this operation you'll do it on the following terms: first, I'm in charge, and in case I'm not around, Rear Admiral Cranston is, and so on. The chain of command goes downwards, not upwards, or at least it was last time I checked; second, you and your men will return to the Sixth Fleet as soon as this mission's over, regardless of the result. If you don't like either of those two conditions, you and your squad are free to leave the carrier. That means you can choose to cooperate with the mercs or just let them do the dirty work, and I couldn't care less. But I've taken part on too many conflicts and have too many lives under my command to pay heed to any and all suicidal ideas. I hope this conversation does not take place again. Clear?"

-"Crystal."-replied Crenshaw, after a moment of silence.

As Overbeck left, Crenshaw took the opposite direction.

-"You're in charge, you say?"-he thought, snarling.-"We'll see about that very soon, Admiral."

Meanwhile, Davenport, Foulke, Vásquez and Bartlett returned to their quarters.

-"Well, it seems we're gonna have to wear our flight suits for now."-said Davenport once they arrived to their quarters and the MPs left.

-"Yes, and another round of Rechin-class battleship."-said Foulke.-"How did such a massive ship remain undetected until so soon?"

-"This has "cover-up" written all over it."-replied Davenport.-"Also, I'd keep an eye out for the Navy pilots. I'm not sure whether Nash will try anything -I wouldn't be surprised if he did, mind you-, but I definitely would not vouch for Crenshaw."

-"Amén. If there's anyone we have to distrust, is him."-added Vásquez.-"I'm sure he's still waiting for the chance to get back at us, especially you, Davenport."

-"Well, let's make sure he's the one who fires first, and not us."-said Bartlett.

-"Try not to get shot down, rubito."-chastised Vásquez.-"I'm not taking part on a SAR escort mission because of you."

-"Vásquez!"-said Foulke, scandalized.-"We're all on the same team, remember? No lone wolf Kuhscheiße on a mission."

-"Hansel is right."-added Davenport.-"If we're divided, we're screwed. Especially now."

-"Whatever."-shrugged Vásquez.

-"Just in case, and I'm sure I don't need to remind you guys."-said Davenport.-"If the Navy tries anything funny, and I mean, anything whatsoever, we hightail it out of the combat zone."

-"Of course, if that comes to happen."-said Foulke.-"This is one time I wish you're wrong."

-"I wish it myself, Hansel."-said Davenport.

After that, they retreated to their respective quarters, all of them blissfully unaware that their true threat was not the fleet itself...

Pacific Ocean, July 18th 2016, 15:25 Hours; Weather: Sunny, few clouds

Everyone expected the alarms to go off sooner or later and were prepared for their duties, but that didn't prevent every man and woman in the ship to jump out of their skins.

Marlene Davenport, Hansel Foulke, Yolanda Vásquez and Arthur Bartlett scrambled out of their quarters. This time, the MPs in the corridor did not stop them as they ran towards the hangar.

The two F-14Ds and F/A-18Cs were already fueled and armed. The planes had been repainted with the Antares squadron and Martinez Security roundels; the F-14Ds, which had the numbers "008" and "006", had a light grey paintjob with a black nose stripe and radome. The F/A-18Cs, which had the numbers "001" and "014", were painted in a light grey paintjob. The four pilots jumped in their respective planes' cockpits and prepared for their planes to be lifted to the carrier's deck. Samuel Crenshaw's and Alexander Nash's squadrons had already taken off when Davenport and Foulke prepared for take off. Shortly after securing them to the catapults, they were contacted by the tower.

-"Antares 1, Antares 2, Tower. Winds 070, at 10 knots."-reported the control tower.-"You're clear for takeoff."

Davenport's F-14D's engines roared with the afterburners, and once the brakes were disengaged, it went from 0 to 270 kph in the short distance between the catapult and the end of the ramp. Foulke soon followed suit, followed in short notice by Vásquez and Bartlett.

-"Antares squadron, Coywolf squadron, Marlin squadron, this is Overbeck."-said Jonathan Overbeck.-"The enemy is moving towards our fleet as we speak. Your respective objectives have already been clarified in yesterday's briefing."

-"Marlin 1, understood, sir."-said Marlin 1. His squadron's F-35C Lightning IIs had a dark grey paintjob, and an emblem of a marlin on both tail rudders.-"Rest assured; our fleet wil be intact by the end of this."

-"This is Coywolf 1, thanks for the reminder."-said Coywolf 1. His squadron's F/A-18F Super Hornet had a light grey paintjob with black trims on the wings and stabilizers, and a coywolf's emblem on the tail rudders.-"I'm sure the mercs will need it."

-"As if, Coywolf 1."-retorted Antares 1.-"If you're going down, crash where I can't see you, God forbid you'd make me happy."

-"That reminds me, Antares 1. Today's your birthday."-quipped Antares 2.-"A victory today shall be a nice gift."

-"Thanks a lot, Antares 2, but not the time for that."-replied Antares 1.-"Let's save the celebrations until after the mission."

-"Ladies and gentlemen, remember that you have a mission to accomplish. Save the bickering for later."-ordered Overbeck.-"Our fleet is 60 miles from the enemy's. You have to keep their guns and planes from reaching our ships at all costs."

The sixteen pilots were 15 miles from the enemy fleet by then, and despite hearing about its size in the briefing, they were astonished by its size: eighteen frigates, twelve destroyers, six Aegis, six cruisers, five Nimitz-class carriers, and leading the fleet, a Rechin-class battleship. To make matters worse, the enemy had already deployed a huge flight of forty fighters, comprised of six black F/A-18Cs, six F-14Ds with a Ferris paintjob, six Su-33 Flanker-Ds with two-tone grey camouflage, six MiG-29K Fulcrum-Ds with three-tone grey camo, six AV-8B Harrier Iis with grey and green camo, six white Yak-38 Forgers, and four Rafale-Ms with two-tone green camo. All those planes carried a combination of air-to-air and air-to-ground ordnance, and they alone could decimate Overbeck's fleet. The Rechin-class battleship could also take out Overbeck's group on its own without taking more than a couple of glancing hits.

-"All planes, give priority to the enemy planes, the carriers, and the battleship."-ordered Overbeck.-"They already have a lot of planes in the air, and the last things we need is more bandits and the battleship firing on the fleet."

-"Roger that, sir."-said Coywolf 1.-"Coywolf squadron, let's sink the battleship."

-"This is Marlin 1 to Marlin 3 and Marlin 4."-said Marlin 1.-"Engange the enemy aircraft. Marlin 2 you're with me."

-"Antares squadron, engage enemies at will."-said Antares 1.

The skies erupted into chaos. While the eight F/A-18Fs headed towards the battleship and Marlin 1 and 2 attacked a couple of carriers, the rest of the planes engaged enemy aircraft. Using their SAAMs, the four pilots of the Antares squadron shot down a MiG-29K, an F-14D, an Su-33, and an F/A-18C respectively before engaging the enemy planes.

Antares 1 chased the MiG-29Ks, shooting another one down with SAAM. The other four surrounded her and tried to attack them from all sides, but another SAAM shot down a third aircraft. The three remaining MiG-29Ks desperately tried to gain the upper hand, and two of them actually managed to evade two respective SAAMs, only to be shot down by guns and a couple of standard missiles. The last one was not that fortunate, being shot down by another SAAM.

Antares 2's situation was similar: he actually managed to shoot down four of the remaining five F-14Ds he was fighting with SAAMs, one after another, in a grueling dogfight that required a lot of patience and dexterity on the mercenary's part; the other one, while able to dodge both an SAAM and a standard missile, was hit by another missile and shot down by a short burst of gun rounds, which hit both engines.

Antares 3, meanwhile, got much luckier with her SAAMs, actually managing to take out the Su-33s in rapid succession without a single miss, despite the enemies' attempts to shoot her down. It was only then when Antares 1 managed to see how good the former aerobatic pilot was in maneuvers: exploiting the F-14D's edge in speed, Antares 3 forced the Su-33s to follow her, hitting the brakes to make them pass, and shoot at least two of them in a single go, a process that she repeated three times, ending her foes.

Antares 4 was not that lucky: he only managed to hit another F/A-18C with his SAAMs before being swarmed by the other four F/A-18Cs. He was saved by the immediate actions of Marlin 3 and Marlin 4, who shot down two F/A-18Cs each with QAAMs.

-"Antares 4, don't worry about the fighters."-said Marlin 3.-"Take out as many VTOL aircraft as you can."

Antares 4 proceeded to attack the AV-8Bs first. Using his SAAMs, he managed to take out two of them. The other four exploded after being hit by a volley of XLAAs.

-"Pick up the pace, Antares 4!"-chastised Antares 3.

Antares 4 sighed as he turned to attack the Yak-38s, with the same results: two SAAMs, two confirmed kills. Again, Antares 3 used her XLAAs to shoot the other four planes down.

The Coywolf squadron, meanwhile, had surrounded the Rechin-class battleship. Their tactic was simple, yet effective: they attacked it from all sides, and, while some of their LASMs were shot down in mid-air while attacking, after just three attack runs, twelve LASMs intercepted by the CIWS, and twelve hits, all anti-air defences were wiped out, and the ship was exposed to Coywolf squadron's attacks. The battleship's crew, in a desperate attempt to save the ship, opened fire on the incoming F/A-18Fs with their naval guns, only for their ship to be hit time and time again until it sank, at the expense of every LASM the Coywolf squadron had. The Coywolf squadron suffered no hits during the attack.

-"At least they are not all talk, after all."-mused Antares 1, as she saw the battleship sink.

Marlin 1 and Marlin 2 had managed to sink two of the five carriers, dropping two GPBs on each carrier's deck, while avoiding a lethal cloud of anti-aircraft guns and missiles fired on them. They pulled up to 3500 feet, turned around, dived towards the carriers, and dropped two GPBs, piercing the deck and splitting them in half.

-"All squadrons, good job."-said Overbeck.-"You've taken out the worst the enemy fleet had. Proceed to take out the rest."

-"Antares 1, roger that."-said Antares 1.

-"Marlin 1, affirmative."-said Marlin 1.

-"Coywolf 1 copies."-said Coywolf 1.

The three squadrons surrounded the fleet, firing everything they had on the enemy ships. Antares 1 sank the remaining three carriers in short order, as her F-14D was faster than Marlin squadron's F-35Cs. The other ships would have torn her apart if they hadn't been focused on the remaining fifteen planes. Antares 2 used his 4AGMs to sink eight destroyers in rapid succession, while Antares 4 sank four Aegis with his LASMs before getting away from the fray to avoid any possible enemy fire. Marlin 1 and Marlin 2 sank four frigates, one cruiser and one Aegis each with their remaining LASMs and GPBs, while Marlin 3 and Marlin 4 sank the remaining four cruisers and the Coywolf squadron wiped out the remaining eight frigates with a couple of standard missiles each.

-"Outstanding job, ladies and gentlemen."-said Overbeck.-"I've never seen anyone dominate the skies like that, and I'm sure the world has yet to see such an air-to-sea battle. You're cleared to land."

-"Let us land first, guys."-said Marlin 1.-"F-35Cs burn up a lot of fuel."

-"Go ahead, Marlin squad."-said Antares 1.-"We'll wait."

The four F-35Cs prepared to land, with Marlin 1 and Marlin 2 landing first while Marlin 3 and Marlin 4 flew by.

Suddenly, a frantic message was heard over the radio.

-"This is the South Carolina! I've lost contact with North Carolina, and we're taking heavy fire!"-yelled the voice.-"A massive s...!"

The message was cut off almost instantly.

-"South Carolina, respond!"-said Overbeck. When no response came, he talked th the rest of the units.-"All units, we've lost contact with the submarines. Stay alert, and prepare for immediate act..."

At that moment, a large number of missiles breached the surface, going off almost immediately after in a blinding flash of light. The entire fleet was blanketed in a series of explosions. The entire Marlin squadron was caught up too. When the light faded out, nothing remained but a bunch of sinking ships in flames.

-"What the fuck was that!?"-screamed Coywolf 1 over the radio.

-"It came from under the water."-said Coywolf 3.-"Must be some sort of sub."

-"Yeah, but with an amount of firepower unparalelled by any conventional weapon."-said Coywolf 6.

-"Oh, no, please don't be what I think it is..."-begged Antares 1 under her breath.

As in a mock to Antares 1's pleas, a huge sub emerged.

-"Bollocks!"-swore Antares 4.

-"Parece un puto rascacielos!"-said Antares 3.

-"You've got to be shitting me!"-exclaimed Antares 2.-"A Scinfaxi-class sub!? I thought there was only one!"

-"Seems like we missed one."-replied Antares 1, chagrined.-"All units, climb up and spread out as much as you can! That includes you and your wingmen, Coywolf 1!"

-"Negative, Antares 1."-replied Coywolf 1.-"You and your group of cowards run for the hills if you feel like it, but we're sinking that son of a bitch."

-"In your dreams, Coywolf 1. That sub's hull is too strong to be pierced by any of our remaining weapons."-shot back Antares 1.-"Firing standard missiles on that thing would be like spitting against a tortoise's shell."

-"Fine then."-sighed Coywolf 1.-"Coywolf 1 to all Coywolves, spread out and head south. I'll contact the Sixth Fleet for help."

The remaining twelve planes separated, with the Antares squadron heading north to offer as many targets as possible to the Scinfaxi-class submarine.

-"All hands, fire on those planes. Use the Nimbus missiles!"-ordered the submarine's captain.

A volley of twelve missiles were fired on all directions. The explosions, which ocurred at random altitudes, missed all the planes by mere inches. The battlefield soon turned into a pandemonium, with the pilots evading volley after volley of missiles. Antares 4 would have died a lot of times if Antares 1 hadn't warned him time and time again.

-"Antares 1, something's off."-said Antares 2 two and a half minutes after the Scinfaxi-class submarine sank the fleet.

-"What do you mean, Antares 2?"-asked Antares 1.

-"I've been trying to make contact with Coywolf squadron, but they're not responding."-replied Antares 2.

-"It might be a side effect of the explosions."-proposed Antares 4.

-"Negative, Antares 4."-replied Antares 1.-"2 and I have seen these missiles in action before, and they cause no side effect, at least in communications."

-"Maybe these are a new type of missiles, like a version 2.0 or something like that."-said Antares 3.

-"If they are, they surely kept the destructive power intact."-said Antares 2.

-"In any case, let's head south and try to get a visual of these bozos."-proposed Antares 1.

They turned around and headed south, scanning the skies for the Coywolf squadron. The sub, apparenty having ran out of ammunition, inmersed back into the ocean and left. Soon, a new voice came over the radio.

-"Antares squadron, this is Admiral Allen aboard the USS Liberty, of the 6th Fleet."-said the voice.-"What is your situation?"

-"This is Antares 1. We're over the AO, and all ships, allies and hostiles, are sunk, except a Scinfaxi-class sub that is leaving the area."-said Antares 1.-"We lost contact with Coywolf squadron a while ago."

-"Try to contact them."-said Allen.-"They had to switch frequencies during the fray and they should be within visual range soon."

Antares 1 switched frequencies until she made contact with the Coywolf squadron.

-"Coywolf squadron, this is Antares 1."-she said.-"What is your situation?"

-"Antares squadron, this is Coywolf 1. We're heading in your direction."-replied Coywolf 1.

Right then, Antares 1 noticed something fishy.

-"Coywolf 1, this is Antares 1. You and your wingmen have your radars activated."-she reported.-"Are you engaged with enemy units?"

This time, however, she got no reply.

-"No response, lead."-said Antares 2.-"What the hell's with them?"

Soon after, the Antares squadron got a visual on the Coywolf squad.

-"Coywolf squad, give me your status immediately."-Antares 1 ordered.

After that, the missile alerts blared on her F-14D's cockpit.

-"Missiles in the air!"-she screamed.-"Antares squad, evasive maneuvers."

The Antares squadron evaded a volley of thirty two missiles fired on them. Antares 1 saw the vector of the missiles and almost froze when she saw that the missiles had been fired by the Coywolf squadron. The Coywolf squadron promptly surrounded the Antares squadron, splitting in pairs.

-"What's the big idea, Coywolf squadron!?"-Antares 1 shouted.-"You're firing on allied units!"

-"Pero qué hostias-? Two of those Yankees have me locked!"-reported Antares 3.

Other two members of the Coywolf squadron were chasing Antares 4, who was hit by gun fire.

-"This is Antares 4, I'm hit! My right engine is inoperative, and the left is taking damage!"-Antares 4 said, as his F/A-18C spewed black smoke and faint flames.

-"Eigenbeschuss! Blue on blue! Blue on blue!"-howled Antares 2.

-"Coywolf squadron, this is Antares 1. You're firing on friendly units. I repeat, you're firing on friendlies."-Antares 1 insisted.-"Cease fire immediately!"

-"Seems like these bozos are not going to listen to us, 1."-said Antares 2.

-"Antares 1 to Antares squad, Coywolf squadron is hence forth considered hostile. I say again, USN flight is hostile."-said Antares 1.-"Antares 2, 4 is no longer combat capable; take him to Midway. Antares 3, you're with me. Let's take these assholes down."

-"Antares 2, roger that. 4, follow me."-Antares 2 said.-"1, 3, take out every last one of them!"

Antares 2 and Antares 4 headed northeast to escape the area, with Antares 4 leaving a trail of smoke. Antares 1 and Antares 3 were left behind to deal with the eight F/A-18Fs. Antares 2 engaged the two planes that had engaged her. The odds were not stacked with the Antares squadron: two F-14Ds against a squadron of F/A-18Fs, and their planes only had a couple of SAAMs each. The Coywolf squadron, on the other hand, had sixty four 6AAMs in total, which meant each plane had eight 6AAMs, way too much of an overkill.

-"These are no noobies. These Super Hornets are a lot better than most of what we've faced so far."-Antares 3 said, as she engaged two planes that tried to attack Antares 2 and Antares 4 as they left.

-"It's them or us and I'm not giving them a chance."-Antares 1 replied, as she fired one of her last SAAMs on one of the enemy planes, which made contact with the F/A-18F, damaging it.

Antares 1 was about to finish it off when another two F/A-18Fs got on her six, trying to shoot her down. She broke left to evade them as they fired 6AAMs on her. Antares 1 managed to avoid the wave of missiles fired on her direction, and counterattacked promptly, firing a couple of missiles on one of the two attackers, shooting the plane down.

-"Antares 3, sitrep."-Antares 1 said as she got on the second F/A-18F's tail.

-"Tearing them a new one, Antares 1."-replied Antares 3, as she shot down another fighter with an SAAM.-"But these guys give no second chances; they have a good playbook."

As Antares 1 tried to open fire on the F/A-18F, another bandit almost slammed into her, forcing her to break away to avoid being rammed. She caught a glimpse of the pilot.

-"Crenshaw, you lowlife bastard!"-she thought.-"Just wait until I get you!"

Coywolf 1 had already lost two pilots and two pilots more had been damaged to the point of being forced to retreat. He was seething and willing to do anything to take down the two pilots in the area and go after the other two.

-"So, you managed to evade me, Davenport?"-he asked.

-"What the hell's right with you, Crenshaw?"-replied Antares 1.-"How much did they pay you to kill us, you son of a whore!?"

-"Pay?"-said Coywolf 1.-"I'm just following orders, merc."

-"Whose? Overbeck's?"-asked Antares 3.-"Was this mission a ruse of his?"

-"Overbeck and his men were a cornucopia of morons. They're lucky they sank with their ships."-replied Coywolf 1.-"It's going to be a great pleasure to shoot you all down. Especially you, Davenport."

-"Oh, is that so?"-retorted Antares 1.-"Come and get me, loser. Your fate won't be different from Sulejmani's."

-"Who the fuck is that guy?"-asked Coywolf 1.-"Sounds like a baker's name."

-"I'll be expecting the same question the next time I talk about you."-said Antares 1, as she chased him.

Antares 1 and Coywolf 1 engaged in a vicious battle. Bullets and missiles missed the respective planes by tenths of millimeters. Antares 3 kept the rest of the flight busy while the two flight leads fought, despite being on a 5-to-1 disadvantage, using her experience in maneuvers to shake off the attacks; however, the massive disadvantage meant that she got no more kills, even with her last SAAM, which missed Coywolf 5 by a long shot. Antares 1, meanwhile, struggled to hit Coywolf 1, who evaded her time after time.

-"This guy's better than I gave him credit for!"-she mused.

Antares 1 eventually managed to get behind Coywolf 1 and chased him, firing her last SAAM, which Coywolf 1 evaded with ease. However, Antares 1 didn't give up, as the maneuver left him within gun's range. A handful of bullets found their way to the F/A-18F's fuselage and tore several holes near the engines. Coywolf 1 turned hard to evade another attack and increased speed to gain some breathing room, with Antares 1 chasing him relentlessly, firing her guns on him.

-"Farewell, daughter of Duke!"-said Coywolf 1, as he evaded the attack and fired his guns on Antares 1, hitting her.

The 20mm rounds hit the right engine and the aft fuselage, causing serious damage to Antares 1's plane.

-"Captain, we have to leave now. We're bingo fuel, and we already lost Coywolf 4 and Coywolf 7."-said Coywolf 3, before Coywolf 1 could finish his opponent off.

-"Roger, 3."-replied Coywolf 1, leaving with the rest of the flight, before talking to Antares 1.-"Enjoy crashing into the ocean, Davenport. You'll stand better odds than if we meet again."

Antares 1 didn't reply. Her plane was damaged, but not enough to prevent her from reaching Midway.

-"Let's meet with 2 and 4, Antares 3."-she said.

-"Roger."-replied Antares 3.

-"Let's hope Antares 4 managed to land safely."-sighed Antares 1.

-"Knowing him, he possibly botched the landing."-answered Antares 3.

Half an hour later, Antares 1 and Antares 3 managed to reach the Midway Islands.

-"Antares 1, this is Hansel."-said Hansel Foulke.-"Arthur and I managed to reach Midway safely, but his Hornet is totalled. How are you doing?"

-"Got several hits, and I'm losing oil pressure."-Antares 1 replied.-"Is the runway clear?"

-"It is, lead."-answered Arthur Bartlett.-"Mister Foulke and I pulled my plane out of the runway after I landed, but this place is out of supplies. Otherwise I'd be able to fix it."

-"Sounds like you won't get your chance to be useful for a change, rubito."-quipped Antares 3.

-"Zip it, Antares 3. Let's land and try to get a grip on the situation."-chastised Antares 1.

-"About that, Sartoris contacted me from the mainland."-said Foulke.-"He's got some news for us. None of them good."

Antares 1 lowered her landing gear and prepared to land, followed by Antares 3. As soon as the F-14D touched down, the plane began jittering a little bit. Antares 3 saw the plane shake and pulled away as soon as she was able to take an exit from the runway. It didn't take long for the F-14D's landing gear to collapse.

-"Damn!"-Antares 1 swore as her plane skidded over the tarmac.

Thankfully, the plane just skidded for a couple of seconds before stopping. Marlene Davenport climbed out of the plane in time to see Yolanda Vásquez jumping out of her plane, and Foulke and Bartlett speeding towards her plane in a crash rig. As soon as the two pilots got close enough to the plane, they started extinguishing the few flames thaat spewed from the damaged aircraft. It was not long before they managed to secure the plane.

-"So, how does this mishap leave us, Hansel?"-asked Davenport.-"An F-14D and an F/A-18C non-combat capable, I guess."

-"Far worse."-said Foulke.-"Let's get inside and I'll show you."

-"How much worse?"-asked Vásquez, as she joined the group.-"Apart from officially being in the US persona non grata list, I mean."

-"If only it was just the United States, Miss Vásquez."-said Bartlett.-"This disaster was just the tip of the shit iceberg. As in the flake in the very top."

Davenport and Vásquez followed Foulke and Bartlett, wondering what could possibly be so bad. Little did they know that the two pilots were not exaggerating at all...

Midway Islands, Pacific Ocean, July 18th 2016, 17:10 Hours; Weather: Sunny, few clouds

Marlene Davenport, Hansel Foulke, Yolanda Vásquez and Arthur Bartlett were in different seats in the base's briefing room in a videocall with Brian Sartoris.

-"I'm glad you and Vásquez managed to reach Midway alive, Davenport."-said Sartoris, relieved.-"How are you guys doing?"

-"Not good at all."-replied Davenport.-"Only two planes airworthy, zero repair supplies, and not enough fuel to reach anything beyond Hawaii. And judging by the fact that we shot down two members of an USN squadron, it's not likely we'd manage to get any close to US airspace without a wave of SAMs on our backs."

-"Davenport, this was not the USN's doing."-answered Sartoris.-"Soon after you guys left, an international network of hard-line soldiers and officers carried out a worldwide coup d'etat."

-"You're kidding, right?"-asked Vásquez.-"That sounds like pure fiction."

-"I wish I was pulling your leg there, Vásquez."-replied Sartoris.-"But no, this was an honest-to-God takeover. The group, which calls itself The Knights of Ulysses, is trying to make profit of a conflict that lasts as long as possible, and to make sure of that, they are trying to eliminate any and all opposition, both in the official military branches of every country and the PMCs that they can't control. And given that Davenport and Foulke are responsible for the downfall of the Valahia and Olivieri's Golden Axe Plan, you four are priority targets."

-"And I guess Overbeck was also a sacrificial lion to these Knights of Ulysses, right?"-asked Davenport.

-"No, Overbeck was one of the many officers the Knights of Ulysses deemed dangerous."-replied Foulke.

-"Exactly. Anyone not playing by their rules has been or is about to be eliminated in short order."-continued Sartoris.-"We had to move Burford to a secret location to prevent him from being killed."

-"That reminds me, sir. Has there been any change in our CO's condition?"-asked Bartlett.

-"No, kid. He's still in coma."-answered Sartoris, sadly.

-"But, what about the fleet we took out?"-said Vásquez.-"Were they in league with them?"

-"They were just a group of PMC fleets that happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time, fleeing from the Knights of Ulysses and heading for Russian territory to support their efforts."-said Sartoris.-"There are some groups of resistance all over the world, but they are few, poorly armed and far between in most cases."

-"Let me guess, the Knights of Ulysses fed a mole with false information about the whereabouts of the GAF-1s and that mole gave that info to Overbeck, so that he, and us, took the bait and chased a group of innocent mercenaries."-said Davenport, horror dawning on her.-"But, that doesn't explain the dissapearance of the GAF-1s, or the presence of a Scinfaxi-class submarine."

-"The GAF-1s turned out to be drones, which ended up crashing in the Pacific far away from territorial waters to avoid suspicion."-replied Sartoris.-"The Scinfaxy-class submarine, which, according to our informers, is nicknamed Leviathan, is one of the three they use to cow most of the countries into submission. And it's not the only superweapon the Knights have in their power. There have been reports of many prototype aircrafts and some of the Stonehenge bases falling into their hands."

Davenport and Foulke looked at each other, knowing what those news meant. Davenport could swear Foulke's face had paled at least five shades.

-"Have you got any more info we could use, Brian?"-asked Davenport.

-"Those are the few details we could get."-said Sartoris.-"We've lost a lot of agents to get such little information."

-"Could you send us some supplies?"-asked Vásquez.-"If not planes and weapons, at least spare parts, fuel and food. I'm not sure this base has much of either."

-"If we could, you would have had anything and everything you needed, guys."-answered Sartoris, shaking his head.-"The security is really tight around here, and the Knights of Ulysses make double sure they check any and all supply planes and ships that try to leave their territory. If they have any suspicion these supplies are going to end in their enemies' hands, they destroy them and take the crews prisoners. At least officialy."

The four pilots knew the implications of the last words of Sartoris. "Officialy" was an euphemism for what the Ulysses would do to those unfortunate souls.

-"I'm gonna cut the transmission now."-said Sartoris.-"We can't afford to be tracked and discovered. Good luck to you all, and I truly hope you guys to make it out of this pinch alive."

Sartoris cut the transmission, leaving a blank screen.

-"So, in a scale of 0 to 10, how fucked are we?"-asked Vásquez.

-"About 50-ish, give or take."-replied Foulke.-"After we got here, Bartlett and I checked the food storeroom and any and all vending machines for food and drinks. Rationating them very tightly, they'll hold out for a week. After that, Got hilf uns."

-"That means..."-said Bartlett.

-"God help us."-replied Davenport.

As in a mock, a huge explosion went off in the water, a few dozens of yards to the southeast of the beach. The four pilots rushed to the control tower to get a better view of the area. Davenport opened the door and picked up some black binoculars to take a look; what she saw made her heart skip a beat.

A huge USN fleet was looming in the horizon, approaching fast. At least one carrier, four Aegis and six destroyers formed the fleet.

-"Let me guess. Big trouble."-guessed Foulke.

-"Big doesn't make it justice."-replied Davenport.-"Take a look by yourself."

Foulke took a look and gulped hard.

-"Mein Gott, you weren't kidding."-he said.-"At least as big as Overbeck's, if not larger."

-"How many?"-asked Vásquez.

-"We've counted at least seven heavy ships. Likely more."-said Davenport.

-"Mierda!"-swore Vásquez.-"Not good!"

-"We're trapped in an island in the middle of the planet's largest, deepest ocean; we're short on ammo, food and supplies; we're surrounded by the USN, which is ruled by a group of warmongers..."-enumerated Bartlett, before getting to his knees and punching the floor, screaming.-"Can shit hit the bloody fan ANY harder!?"

At that moment, the phone inside the control tower rang. Davenport picked it up.

-"Hello?"-she asked.

-"Marlene Davenport, I suppose. Seems like that warning shot fired off the beach got your attention."-said the voice on the other side of the phone.-"Before I begin, could you please turn the intercom on, in case you have one? I want you and your friends to hear me out."

Davenport did that.

-"Thanks a lot. My name is Admiral Nicholas Allen, of the 6th Fleet, aboard the USS Liberty."-said the now identified Allen.-"I supposed we talked a few hours ago."

-"Yes, we did."-replied Davenport.-"Just before the Coywolf squadron attacked us."

-"They were following my direct orders, my dear."-said Allen.-"You guys are a thorn on the Knights of Ulysses' side. Not only you guys took the Valahia out, but you also eliminated Olivieri and his private army."

-"And you guys want to kill us for that!?"-asked Foulke, irated.-"Insane bastards, you should be thanking us for that instead! We saved the entire world's hide in both occasions."

-"For a seasoned mercenary, especially one called "The Angel of Death", you're quite naive, mister Foulke."-replied Alled.-"You think that the world just works like that? Boom goes the villain and the heroes live happily ever after in a peaceful world? Don't make me laugh. War is the essence of man. You take an enemy out and you have the next knocking on the door within a week."

-"And you guys want to stop that trend by maintaining the world in some sort of Second Cold War, I guess."-quipped Davenport.-"Without having a clear enemy, just waging a never ending war for shits and giggles. Tell me, Allen, how batshit insane are you?"

-"I don't expect you or your posse to understand the ins and outs of the Knights of Ulysses' plans, Davenport."-replied Allen.-"What I want you to understand is that you are in the direst situation any human being can think of. I'm sure the island hasn't been resupplied in weeks, and I'm going to make sure it stays that way. As we speak, three additional fleets are on their way to establish a blockade around the Midway Islands. Any and all supply ships or planes that somehow make it to the area will be shot down on the spot."

-"So, what is your deal?"-asked Davenport.

-"You guys must surrender to our fleet in the span of a week. To signal your intentions of surrender, you'll have to hang three white flags in the masts of your base. A small boat will pick you up and take you to the carrier, where you will be trialed for shooting down and killing two USN pilots."-said Allen.-"But don't worry. At worst, you'll get life sentences in separate military prisons. But you'll stand better odds that way. For, if you haven't surrendered by July 25th at 14:00 hours, a nuclear missile will be launched to wipe out the Midway Islands, and you four with them."

The four pilots grew cold with fright. It was then when they realised how far the Knights of Ulysses were willing to go to achieve their twisted objectives.

-"Without due respect, Admiral Allen,"-said Davenport, after regaining her poise.-"you must have your head up your ass if you think that I'm going to surrender my life, or the lives of the people under my charge, under any conditions, let alone such hideous ones."

-"Don't talk for everyone, Davenport."-responded Allen.-"I'm not sure they'd be willing to just sit this chance out given the alternatives."

Davenport looked at her wingmen, looking for an answer. Foulke and Vásquez shook their heads, showing that they would not pay heed to the USN terms. Bartlett was trembling like a leaf, but after taking a couple of deep breaths, gave her a thumbs up, to show her that, scared as he was, he was willing to stay with them until the bitter end.

-"I'll tell you what you can do with that joke of a chance of yours, Allen."-replied Davenport.-"You can go back to Hawaii, buy a can of sex lubricant, smear the chance with said lub, and that will help you shove it smoothly up your ass."

-"Let's see what you say after a week, Davenport."-growled Allen.-"Before I leave, I want to quote something a certain someone asked me to tell you: You, the Nazi, the Spic chic and the Brit loser should have just crashed into the ocean instead, you miserable redhead cunt! I can hardly wait to see the nuke fry your sorry ass! Guess who. Talk to me after raising the three white flags. Until then, time's running out for you guys."

After that, the comunication died out. Davenport sat down, rubbing her temples, trying to keep herself from screaming in rage and frustration. Foulke was clenching his fists, wishing he had Samuel Crenshaw's neck in them. Vásquez and Bartlett just stood where they were with expressions of fake neutrality, but their eyes shone with fear and despair.

-"Guys, I know I said I wouldn't surrender you, but you can leave if you want."-said Davenport after half a minute of silence, in a meek manner.-"I don't care if it kills me, but I would not die in peace if you buy the farm because of me."

-"Marlene, you must think very poorly of us if you even entertain the idea of us leaving you behind."-said Foulke.-"I know things started roughly between us, but I'm done living in the past, and even if my future is going to be cut short because of a nuclear missile launched by a gaggle of pig-headed warmongers, I'll face Death with a smile if it means staying with my new friends and you till the end. And besides, you think Burford would let me live it out if I left you behind? He'd make it to Hell just to kill me ten times over for leaving two new recruits along with his protegèe, who also happens to be my girlfriend, behind."

-"I'm in no need to explain my reasons, but I swear in the Holy Mary's name that I'm not going to leave my new partners behind."-added Vásquez.-"Even if they're a bossy redhead, her PTSD-affected boyfriend, and an ex-mechanic pilot wannabe."

Vásquez's comment was met with a tempered amusement by the three other pilots.

-"I'm not a man of action, that's for sure. In fact, I've faced death more times in this last week than during my entire career as a RAF mechanic by a long shot."-said Bartlett.-"But I'll be damned, I say, I'll be damned if I turn my back on you three out of fear. In any case, if they nuke the island, we'll still die in our own terms. By their hands, but on our feet, which surely beats scraping a miserable life in some military prison."

Davenport was moved by her wingmen's words. All of them preferred to die rather than leave one of their squad behind, and they would stand by her side even in the dire circumstances they were in.

-"In that case, let's just wait for Hell to be unleashed upon this place together."-she said, with a smile.-"And make ourselves comfortable until Death comes by to take our souls."

-"It's said Death smiles upon us all."-said Foulke.-"So, let us smile back."

After that, the four pilots left the tower and headed to the kitchen, where Foulke and Bartlett had left the remaining food and drinks remaining on the island. There was another pile of food nearby, but most of them was spoiled and inedible.

-"So, this is all, right?"-asked Davenport.

-"Yes, a week's worth of energy bars, isotonic drinks and water."-said Bartlett.-"That's all mister Foulke and I managed to salvage when we got there."

-"Espléndido."-quipped Vásquez.-"Just about the time we've got until those assholes nuke our sorry necks. At least starvation and dehidration are no longer a problem."

-"And I thought I was a pessimist."-chuckled Foulke.

Each of them picked up a bar and a glass of water.

-"Cheers for our ever shortening lives, and may the Devil goes to town on our enemies' asses after our death."-toasted Davenport.

-"A-fucking-men, Fraülein!"-said Foulke.

-"I'll drink to that. May karma pay these assholes back with interests."-added Bartlett.

-"Por nosotros!"-cheered Vásquez.

The four drank the glasses with the same fruition they would if they were drinking the finest wine. After that, each ate their bars in silence. When their "meal" was over, they went to the rec room, where they played poker for a while. Foulke won a couple of times, with a full house and a two pair of aces and queens; Davenport got three victories, comprised of two full houses and a four of a kind, jacks; Vásquez managed to score a victory with a royal straight flush of shamrocks; Bartlett was the big loser. None of them, however, bet any money. They were sure that they'd die too soon to spend any gains.

After the games, Bartlett and Vásquez left to a different room each, while Davenport and Foulke shared a room. Outside, the enemy fleet sieged the islands, a grim reminder of their future.

-"It's almost cathartic, isn't it?"-asked Davenport as she sat down on the bed.-"A whole life dedicated to air combat, all around the world, just to end in the very same place we met."

-"You can say that again, Marlene."-replied Foulke, staring out the window with a sad smile on his face.-"Ten months ago, I'd have bet my entire fortune that I'd die in some mission God knows where. But now, I feel cheated by luck, and I can't even be mad, because, if surviving means leaving you and the others behind, I'd be back to square one. Alone, bitter, and wishing a death I could have been granted."

-"Too bad the price of freedom and peace is standing against this twisted new world order."-sighed Davenport.-"The sad part is that we can't do anything about it, and that we're not going to live to fight back."

-"Only two planes, limited fuel and ammo, and little food and water, with no means of obtaining any supplies and encircled by the USN."-summed up Foulke.-"Not my cup of tea, but better than to give in to their asinine demands."

-"Damn right. At least you and the others are in this with me of your own accord."-said Davenport.

The couple shared a kiss as the sun set, happy to have some time for each other for a change. Meanwhile, Vásquez looked at the ceiling of the room she was in, thinking of how twisted life could be, and Bartlett was in his own room, writing down on an empty notebook he had found in a drawer in the desk.

Midway Islands, Pacific Ocean, July 24th 2016, 20:00 Hours; Weather: Sunny, few clouds

The days passed, and just like Nicholas Allen had promised, two more fleets surrounded the Midway islands, with a total of 48 ships, including three carriers. Marlene Davenport, Hansel Foulke, Yolanda Vásquez and Arthur Bartlett kept themselves busy playing billiards, poker, table football, air hockey and some arcade machines in the rec room during the six days the islands had been sieged. They were aware their time and supplies were running out. They also watched the news, where the extent of the power of the Knights of Ulysses was shown in full: most of Europe, Africa and America were under their thumb, with Asia and Oceania struggling to fight back.

That night, they were in the mess hall, where they had put a couple of tables together to give each other as much room as possible.

-"So, our last night in this world."-said Davenport as she took a sip of isotonic drink.-"Any of you guys have anything you'd like to share with everyone?"

-"Not me."-replied Vásquez, munching on an energy bar.-"I have nothing I can say, apart from wishing I had gone down in a different fashion. This way to die is fucked up beyond belief."

-"I know, right?"-quipped Bartlett, fiddling with a paper plane he had made a couple of hours before.-"The alternative is worse, but this is a close second. I'd prefer to fight than just sit here and wait to die."

-"It's not like we have any other choice."-said Foulke, who was playing solitaire on a desk.-"So far, unless we get some help, which I doubt, we're going to die anyway, and, even if the Knights of Ulysses will kill me no matter how, I'd like to think that I didn't pass through their ring."

-"Within sixteen hours, it'll be game over for us."-sighed Davenport.-"No way to get out of here, the whole world will probably not give a damn about us, and live their shitty lives while the Knights of Ulysses tighten their grip around the world."

-"Sartoris did say that there were people trying to fight against them."-said Foulke.

-"I doubt they make it to the autumn."-replied Davenport.-"And even if they can make it, they are way too busy to help us out in time."

-"You've got a point."-said Bartlett.-"They'll be too busy cleaning house to care for a bunch of mercenaries like us."

-"You and the redhead are quite the party poopers, rubito."-retorted Vásquez.-"Not that you're not right, though."

-"In any case, it'll all be over tomorrow."-said Davenport.-"All I can ask of you guys is that, if you end up having second thoughts, don't play stubborn; just save your lives."

-"Davenport, in my native country we have a saying, which translated means "Either we all get wasted, or we throw the wine into the river.". And I know I speak for both your boyfriend and the kid when I say we're in this together."-replied Vásquez.

-"Furthermore, leaving you behind would be an act of cowardice that would end up being in vain."-added Foulke.-"We're going to die anyway, so why not die together having a good time, instead of giving those assholes what they want?"

-"I'm willing to bet they'd execute us in public just to set an example."-said Bartlett.-"And I don't want to know how far they're willing to go, knowing how sadistic they are."

-"In that case, let's get a good rest tonigh. Tomorrow will be a hell of a day."-said Davenport, nonchalantly.

-"Acute choice of words."-quipped Foulke.

As the sun set, they left to their rooms, assuming they would not make it to the next night...

Pacific Ocean, July 25th 2016, 01:54 Hours; Weather: Night, few clouds

Four ATD-0 Shinshin, sporting a navy blue paintjob with darker trims and a single white line were flying east to reach the Midway Islands after having just made it out of one of the last remaining areas out of the Knights of Ulysses' control in Japan. They were escorting a single C-2 cargo plane.

-"Sir, are you sure this was a good idea?"-asked one of the pilots, a female called Kei Nagase.-"We're leaving our resistance group behind just to save a handful of mercenaries. I'm afraid they don't make it until after we rescue these privateers."

-"Ridgeback 2, you can trust our comrades to hold out until we make it back. I've seen these mercenaries in action, and if we can get them to help us, Japan is as good as free from these so-called "knights"."-replied Ridgeback 1, a Japanese-American called John Harvard.-"And besides, when Hell is unleashed upon the Earth and all angels and knights have fallen, the best choice of allies are the Devil's rejects."

-"I surely hope you know what you're doing."-replied Ridgeback 2.-"Reports say that there are over 40 ships in the area, at least three of them being carriers."

-"Ridgeback 2 has a point, sir."-added Ridgeback 4.-"This mission could be much riskier than we initially thought."

-"Not like we have time to turn back now."-said Ridgeback 3.-"But in any case, we've been through worse, and we're not going to be deterred by some lunatics just because they have a bunch of fancy ships. We four are the best pilots in the JASDF, and it's our chance to prove so."

-"That's the spirit, 3."-said Ridgeback 1.-"By the end of the week, we'll take Japan back from those who want to take control of the entire world. We're soldiers, not simple pawns to some nut warlords."

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Second chapter of Brave New World. I'm sorry for taking so long to write this chapter, but I've been awfully busy, especially since late March; free time was virtually nonexistent. In all this time, ACI closed its servers (RIP), a new trailer of AC7 was published, the remake of RE2 was announced, I watched JW:Fallen Kingdom (BTW, I couldn't care less for any negative review: I loved it; it could have been slower-paced and a bit scarier, though), and I got Jurassic World Evolution; you guys can make an idea of how long I have been busy. Good luck and take care. See you next time