Assault 4: Son of a Demon
Alicia and Kim stepped outside of their rooms after hearing Rachel outside. What they saw surprised them. Rachel had long lavender hair worn down with a few braids that draped down the middle of her back amidst the long flowing hair as well as on either side of her face.
She wore a long, ankle length black one piece evening dress with a single slit on the right side which ran up to her mid-thigh. A single gold necklace dangled from her neck and two sapphire earrings glimmered in the lighting. She looked dazzling.
"Hello Major," Alicia couldn't talk straight and Kim had lost all words. "May . . . may I ask what you need?"
Rachel laughed lightly realizing what just happened. Two recruits walk out of their rooms expecting a military uniform, not an evening lady.
"It's nothing important. Relax; Tsuki wants to see you in my room while I'm out. Feel free to look, but please don't touch, a lot of my things are fragile."
The two younger women were confused, was she going out on a date?
The young woman turned and proceeded down the hall to one of the elevators. A soft chime heralded the arrival of the lift and Rachel stepped inside after a quick wave. Not knowing what to make of the opportunity, the girls left their room to meet Tsuki. They wore casual civilian dress during the off time and wanted to look around the base some more. It was a lot bigger than the outside seemed and ran underground.
Rounding the corner, Kim collided roughly with a taller person. She would have fallen on the floor if a pair of hands hadn't grabbed her shoulders, effectively steadying her. After seeing who she had bumped into her face nearly turned a cherry red. It was Günter and another woman they didn't recognize.
He was dressed in a formal suit of black and deep maroon that made his eyes stand out. The woman was similarly dressed. It looked like they were going into town to paint it red. Was every one in the Ghost Eagle squadron going out tonight?
"Hey ladies, where's the fire? Slow down a bit." He joked lightly.
The younger cadets had found a new interest in the tiling on the floor. It was hard to believe that the ace pilot of the previous war was this laid back. Of course, he was dead serious while on duty, as there was no room for relaxing on a battlefield. Off the fighting grounds it was hard to tell he was even in the military.
The two younger women nodded and swiftly left the couple as they continued to search for Tsuki's new room. The woman smiled behind them as they disappeared around a corner. The fighter pilot looked at her as she quietly laughed, taking in her beauty. She was only a month younger than him, and he loved her more than life itself. Their son's existence proved that.
"Those two remind me of our son when he joined the military."
"I know, though I do have to disagree with the fact that he was only sixteen when he joined the military. I admit I'm still slightly shocked by it. He's already a pretty damned impressive pilot."
She nudged him in the side with an elbow, making him jerk reflexively.
"Our son has your skills and my cunning my love. But those two girls seem to have the right stuff for this line of work."
Remembering that tragic dogfight, Günter had to admit that the testimonies he had heard about them from his squadron members had surprised him. Of all the fighters that had engaged them while he was busy at the base, six had fallen between the two of them. In truth, Alicia only had one more kill to make before becoming a technical 'ace'. Four kills in the first bloodshed they'd ever see was unprecedented. He nodded in agreement.
Wrapping his arm around her waist as she half yelped in surprise, he planted a fervent kiss on her lips before grinning at her flustered facial expression.
"Well, right now it's time to forget about my work for one evening and go out for the night. You did want to see the theater presentation of that childhood book of yours didn't you?"
"A Blue Dove for the Princess? Of course! Is that what you got me?"
He fished through his pocket and presented the two tickets to her. She smiled with excitement as she kissed him.
Alicia and Kim finally found the Ghost Eagle pilot's room and knocked on the door tentatively before Tsukiyomi's voice came through the heavy steel door.
As she opened the door for her friends they couldn't help but look around in surprise. There was just so much stuff around the whole room. It was no small wonder Rachel had told them to be careful. Four bookshelves covered the western wall, the doorway faced south. Only two of them were holding books and magazines, mostly news articles from the previous war and the tentative peace that followed.
The other shelves presented delicate porcelain dolls dressed in fashions from around the world and each one from a different historical age. A few were dressed up in the latest fashions and showed just how diverse the world still was. One of the dolls caught Kim's eye as she pointed it out to Alicia. Tsuki had already seen the resemblance and didn't say anything, though she suppressed her amusement in the other two girls' surprise.
One of the dolls had long violet hair and wore a long single piece dress of black satin. Her neck held a gold necklace with sparkling earrings. She looked exactly like Rachel right down to the facial features. Searching for an answer to their mutual question, a small calling card at the base glittered in gold calligraphy.
To the love of my life,
I had my father craft this one especially for you. We know how much you like our family's handiwork and God knows how much my family teases me for being so smitten with you. I hope we can go to that theater play that your superior's wife wanted the squad to go see. What was it? A Blue Dove for the Princess? Mr. Günter told me to keep it secret from his wife. Anyway, we're all seated in different parts of the theater, but I managed to snag us seats beside each other. See you in a week at the theater.
P.S. I'd really like it if you wore what your miniature self is wearing.
Love,
Mark Heinrich
The two friends looked from the note to each other as Rachel popped into their heads from moments before. Both of them smiled and looked back at the note and doll with romantic thoughts in their minds. Tsuki saw it coming before they both opened their mouths at the same time.
"Awwwwwww . . ."
(Meanwhile on Sand Island)
"Hey Bartlett."
"What is it Pops? This had better be damn good. Top brass is giving me shit again."
The older man laughed, his voice carried in the large hanger bay. The sound of planes landing on the runway signaled them that their new pilots had just arrived, twenty strong and ready to undergo a more rigorous combat training regiment.
As the flight of F-5E Tiger II's were taxiing into their positions on the open flight parade grounds, the two pilots of the Belkan War couldn't help but notice that the last fighter hadn't arrived yet. The roar of an engine above them prompted their eyes to look upward. The two men could hardly believe their eyes as a Fighting Falcon oriented itself for a landing.
As the fighter plane landed and began its taxi, several of the nuggets could be heard muttering 'show off' and other derogatory terms. A few however, clearly admired this particular pilot, obviously more skilled than a pilot trainee since they'd given him a Falcon.
"Bartlett, I don't think that's a Lieutenant in that bird."
"Why's that?"
"Don't you recognize the design difference? The Block 60 model was scraped a year after the Belkan War remember?"
As the pilot of the aircraft opened the canopy and dismounted from his plane, Bartlett could tell that this was going to be rough. The pilot looked no older than his very early twenties, maybe even late teens. What struck the grizzled captain the hardest was his rank insignia . . . a Captain.
An O-3, meaning he wasn't just a commissioned officer; he was either some higher ups' son, a freaking genius, or had gone through the ROTC program back at November City's "Hell Camp" as they put it. If he'd gone through that, well, he'd have to say the kid earned that rank. He was willing to bet that his skill was up there too if he'd gone through Hell Camp.
As the nuggets were all forming into rank and file formation as he approached, the Captain turned and gave a crisp salute, his eyes steady and Bartlett could see something in his eyes that he couldn't quite put his finger on.
"Are you these nuggets acting CO?"
A sharp salute surprised him as the younger man stood there, salute still in place as he spoke.
"No sir Captain. I'm here as ordered by McNealy Air Force Base as an assistant instructor and aide de camp Captain Bartlett."
Returning the salute, the younger officer moved to a relaxed at ease position; something that Bartlett noticed immediately.
'So, he's been through Hell Camp. His crisp formality and respectful at ease sure show that was drilled into him.'
"What's your name Captain?"
"Call sign Blaze, I'll tell you my name later sir. Colonel on deck."
All nuggets present drew themselves to attention and saluted as Blaze did. Bartlett turned and half nodded in acknowledgement to the 'Emperor'. A frown formed on Perault's brow immediately. He knew he'd get chewed out latter for 'setting a bad example' but he didn't care. The fat man could just roll over and die for all he cared.
The Colonel walked over to the F-16 Block 60 and looked from it to Blaze and back again. Stepping back toward Blaze, he looked at him as if he was some kind of foreign object. A few of the nuggets didn't like that scrutinizing look over Captain Blaze. If he was doing that to Blaze, then they couldn't imagine what their inspection would be like.
"So Captain, do you think you're pretty hot stuff coming here to my base with a fighter that outclasses all the others here?"
Blaze immediately knew that he would never like Perault. He really didn't like many of his superiors. He guessed it came from his father's blood. He only respected those who earned it. So far, this chubby Colonel hadn't done squat.
"No sir."
"Oh, really? Why's that Captain? Would you care to elaborate for me?"
"In combat sir, only approximately 40 percent of a pilot's effectiveness comes from the aircraft he flies. The majority comes from the mechanics, experience, and resolve of those fighting sir."
"Don't get smart with me Captain. Otherwise, you'll stay one with Captain Bartlett here."
Perault walked off as he pulled out a cigar from his pocket. Everyone could here him muttering under his breath. Falling out of attention status, Blaze half glared at the fat man. This was going to be one long tour of duty.
"Well, I can see that this is off to just a fine start. Blaze, I like your resolve, you've got a lot more guts than most of the other meat sacks around this place. If you want to, go and have a look around the base. Pops over there will show ya around while I go over the introductions with these nuggets."
"Don't be too harsh Captain; God knows that Colonel already put some of these pilots on edge. Especially that one over there."
Blaze nodded his head at the young woman still half staring at the door that Colonel Perault had gone through. Her face was slightly pale. Short neckline length black hair framed a delicate face. The nugget seemed overly introspective. Bartlett was about to go over and reassure her of the Colonel's hot air complex when Blaze beat him to it.
"2nd Lieutenant Kei Nagase, you still flying in the clouds?"
His voice was official and formal, but everyone could here the joking nature in it and most of the pilots chuckled as she half started and stared at Blaze like he was some dream. The two captains sighed as Blaze went over to her and gave her a pat on the shoulders.
"Don't think too much about the Colonel, I've already decided to make his life hell whenever he gets on your case, or any other pilot's for that matter. Pilots stick to each other like glue in the air and on the ground. That doesn't change regardless of conditions, right men?"
"Yes sir!"
A small smile found its way onto her face.
"Thanks Captain."
"I think that'll be her new call sign for me."
"Pardon Captain?"
The pilots looked over at Bartlett who was grinning ear to ear.
"Nagase, from now on, I'm calling you Edge."
Blaze starting laughing as he shrugged his shoulders at the confused woman. The rest of the nuggets relaxed a bit as they began to realize that these two officers were nothing like anything they'd ever encountered during their academy days. Some of the pilots began to rethink their opinions of Blaze.
Several of them had scoffed when he had shown up to escort them to Sand Island. His duty bound honor had been the cause of some harsh rebuffs during their in flight chatter during the transit from the mainland. For one, he didn't allow anyone to make sexist or racist comments over the radio even in jest. The racist they could understand, he was half Osean, half Ustio. The sexist part was thought to have been favoritism as Nagase was the only woman in the squadron. Now they saw that it just wasn't like that.
Nodding once, Blaze turned things over to Bartlett as he walked over to where Pops was standing. The two men shook hands firmly as Beagle began to show the younger pilot around the base. To Blaze's surprise, a black Labrador came running over and began to sniff at his boots, searching for a treat or trying to identify the newcomer.
"Kirk! Get back here you crazy dog!"
The loud voice made several of the new pilots turn to look at the on coming soldier. Bartlett could be seen shaking his head. The black lab turned its head around as he sat down in front of Pops. A tall man with brown hair jogged up to him, there was a slight panting in his breathing. Looking up to see who was accompanying Beagle, he half groaned as he stood up to salute Blaze.
"Geez, another Captain? Now who do I follow?"
Blaze chuckled as he sensed the man's problem with high ranking officers and his joking nature. After the meeting with the Colonel though, he couldn't really blame him. Reaching down, her rubbed Kirk behind the ears.
"That's alright Lieutenant. You don't have to salute me unless its official business. As for who you follow, it's still Bartlett."
The pilot smiled openly and held his hand out. He knew immediately that he liked this guy, even if he did look a lot younger than him. Any officer who didn't care about all the formality unless it was called for was spades in his book.
"Great! Well, I'm 2nd Lieutenant Alvin H. Davenport. What's yours?"
The two pilots shook hands.
"The name's Patrick, call sign Blaze."
"Alright, but what's your last name? Don't you have one?"
"My last name's a touchy subject for the military 2nd Lieutenant. Many speculations go around my father and so it's best to just let it be. I'll tell some day though, that I promise. For now though, all you need to know was that he was a demon from the Belkan War, and that he flew for Ustio."
Bartlett and Pops quickly threw each other wary glances. Blaze's choice of words hadn't slipped by their ears. Of course, Blaze wanted to keep it under wraps for now, but was he really the son of who they thought he was?
The rest of that day had gone by with relative ease for Blaze, though the advanced maintenance class for the nuggets could have gone better when one of them dropped the monkey wrench down the upper hatch of one of the F-5's. Pops had a fit over the fact that they'd have to take the plane apart to find it. The nugget responsible was pretty embarrassed.
He noticed that Davenport, who wanted to be called Chopper, had been with the Sand Island pilots for a little over two years. He was friendly and did a lot to ease the nerves of many of the nuggets. The only downside to that was that he was so open and out going, that his voice grated your nerves after about the first fifteen minutes.
Once or twice Chopper had tried to get him to spill the beans about his father, but Bartlett finally stopped that. Nagase noticed that his father and name were sensitive subjects. Why would he be so protective of it though?
'He isn't the son of some criminal or traitor is he?'
Silently, she hoped her thought were wrong. He was nice and understanding in his own way. He relaxed around Bartlett and was surprised to see how mature he was for such a young pilot, much less a Captain in his own right. She wanted to know more about him. She was twenty-three, but she didn't know his exact age, he just looked so young.
Later, after night had fallen on Sand Island and Bartlett couldn't find the Captain in his quarters or in the pilot's lounge, Pops rounded the hallway corner with a cup of coffee in his hands.
"Hey, you haven't seen that kid anywhere have you?"
"I think I saw him head off to the hangars. He seemed pretty attached to that Block 60. I know what you're thinking Bartlett, but do you think it's a good time to ask him?"
Bartlett nodded once as he spun on his heel toward the hangars. The Block 60 had been stored in the southern most hangar at Perault's orders. His excuse had been that there wasn't any spare room with all of the F-5E Tigers that had arrived. That hadn't necessarily been wrong, but Heartbreak One's hangar with the spare plane had ample spare room.
Entering the old single fighter hangar, the men heard rock music coming from the main section where the Block 60 was. The smell of paint permeated from the same direction. The words from the song echoed through the hangar and Bartlett was briefly reminded of his days during the war and how Chopper liked his music.
In a silent second you can hear a flower growing in the wind, but does it reach you when there's darkness all around?
How many days will this go on? How many thoughts can I assess? Why do we come apart? Watch it all go down . . .
Take me away, I can't deny it, and all that I want is to touch the sky! Show me the way, a simple mind, and no one can say it can't be done!
I see you shining on the sun, a road that leads beyond this place, a way to push aside the walls that block our path . . .
If time can truly be a lie, there's nothing left but you and I, denying everything and shattering the glass . . .
Take me away, I can't deny it, and all that I want is to touch the sky! Show me the way, a simple mind, and no one can say it can't be done!
Out of mind, out of time, all alone stuck at home, can't decide from the pride, I want it all. Look to me, only me, far away everyday, vanity, vanity, I want it all . . .
As the music began an instrumental section, the two men entered to see Blaze on top of the plane with something draped over the rear of the plane, an ink/paint spray gun in his hand as he nodded his head to the music. The rear vertical stabilizer had a stencil over it as he let a short stream of paint cover the exposed portion of the plane.
Simple minds . . . separation . . . let me be . . . set me free . . .
Take me away, I can't deny it, and all that I want is to touch the sky! Show me the way, a simple mind, and no one can say it can't be done!
Take me away . . . take me away . . . take me away . . . take me away . . .
As the song died out, the track changed to a slower rock melody as Blaze set the paint dispenser aside and looked down at the ground where Pops and Bartlett were.
"Oh, Captain, what are you guys doing here this late?"
"The same could go for you kid."
"I was busy with all the tour of duty paperwork when I got this fighter and I hadn't had time to give it the design I wanted. So here I am during my free time."
As he removed the stencil, the two war aces froze. There on the tail, glared a yellow and orange emblem of a dog strangling a chain in its maul. The words were no longer on the circle framing the emblem, but the design was no mistake. Pops felt the coffee in his hand drop as he remembered the one target lock he never was able to break.
The battle of B7R, The Round Table. The fighter pilot feared and respected by all, Galm 1, Cipher: The Demon of the Round Table. The legendary mercenary of the Belkan War alongside Solo Wing Pixy; both left their legacy across the skies.
"You two look like you've seen a ghost Heartbreak One."
His voice snapped them out of the war memories. Blaze sat with his right leg dangling from the back of the forward wing, his left elbow resting on his left knee while cradling his chin. A small smile spread across the pilot's face.
"Do you realize what you've just put on your fighter kid?"
"I do, but do you understand what it means to me Captain?"
Blaze pushed himself off the wing and walked over to the cd player. Turning the music off, he returned to his plane.
"Cipher, the Demon of the Round Table during the Belkan War, has been my icon for as long as I can remember. My mother would often shake her head whenever she found me reading all the old news articles and official reports about him."
Patrick looked up at the emblem he just finished. He could feel the two men's eyes on him, waiting for him to continue.
"It wasn't like she didn't approve or anything, in fact, she encouraged me to read them. I felt like I was flying right beside him. Father was never home, in fact I only met my father after I turned five, and it was a year after the war was declared over."
"I wanted to yell and scream at him for not being home with mom and me. I really didn't know how we survived, mom never worked."
The two pilots looked at each other, perplexed.
"She was a stay-at-home mom with you and no job?"
The younger pilot nodded once.
"Most nights, she'd be up talking with some man over the phone, laughing, crying, and flirting. Man, sometimes I really wish I hadn't listened in on some of her conversations. On more than one occasion it got a little too intimate for my ears."
An embarrassed smirk crossed their faces at the innuendo.
"Regardless, when he finally walked through the door one night, I nearly snapped. Mom had gone without father for over four years. The war only lasted about one and a half years. So where had my father been? I wanted him out and not to come near her, I had screamed that at him until she came in the room and hit me with her book. It was the only time other than discipline that she smacked me."
"She walked up to him and planted a kiss on his lips and said a simple phrase to tell me who my father was. She said, 'Welcome home, Galm 1.'"
The silence in the hangar was almost suffocating, the heavy air of his confession made Bartlett and Beagle mindful of their words.
"How did you take it?"
"I went ballistic, in a good way though. Imagine my surprise. My father was the legendary pilot I'd been reading about all throughout the war. When I asked him why he hadn't come home, he told me all about the V2 project and A World with no Boundaries. He told me that he'd been visiting some of the pilots he shot down over the time of that war. Most of them are doing rather well, though I can bet that most of them wish he hadn't suddenly just showed up and said hi."
The three of them laughed at that picture. Most of the pilots had probably fainted or freaked out when he met them. Peter Beagle felt better knowing that such a terrifying pilot in the skies was such a down to earth man on the ground. It only helped to affirm the rumors about his mercy to the retreating and meek were true. A Knight Ace as they called them back then.
It was good to hear that the man had a son and was living happily. Suddenly, the thought of Blaze's mother at home with a child and no income made perfect sense. Cipher had been sending his mercenary pay back home to his wife and son, though no one knew it. The man's reputation raised itself greatly in the two men's eyes.
Now they knew just who they were dealing with, the son of a compassionate demon.