Before we were scheduled for takeoff, Full band gathered our squad together for a brief "strategy session." In truth, he gave us a report about what he had managed to uncover from his stolen data. It turned out McKinsey had been feeding intel to the Eruseans and planning to defect after all. Whether it was because he was bitter at High Command or because he thought the Eruseans were going to win, we couldn't be sure. For now, it seemed he was hedging his bets and basically buying his pass into gaining asylum in Erusea. Unfortunately, we didn't have much time. It looked like he was planning to carry this out in less than two weeks.
"I don't understand. What's the point of this mission then? Wouldn't it still hinder Erusean operations?" Tabloid asked.
Full Band wore a grim look and shrugged, "Who knows? Maybe it's just cover, or maybe it's another setup?"
"That deep into Erusean territory? I don't know," Count grimaced.
"Whatever the case, we should stay on guard," I said to everyone, "We'll keep our mouths shut and our ears open. Once we get back to base, we can figure out what to do from there."
As the meeting adjourned and everyone went toward their fighters, Full Band pulled me aside and spoke quietly into my ear, "Trigger, I know we're about to go into combat again, but if something happens to me out there, I need you to know something. I made a backup copy of the data we need to incriminate McKinsey. I put it in a thumbdrive and hid it under the cot in your room, wedged within the slats."
"What? Are you insane? Why me?"
Full Band kept a level expression, "You were the one who helped me and believed in my theory. I get the sense you want to do right too so that's why I'm trusting you, just like you trusted me."
I stared at him a moment before shaking my head, "Full Band, relax. Nothing is going to happen to you out there. We'll watch your back."
He narrowed his features and held out a hand, "Whatever you do, don't act like you know too much. If I get tagged by McKinsey for spying, I need you three to keep flying and finish the job. Promise me?"
I exhaled and gave a long sigh before shaking his hand in agreement, "Yeah... I promise. Now let's get going"
After Spare Squadron had left the air base, we made our way inland toward the Wiapolo Mountain range. once we approached our destination, we dropped altitude and saw thick banks of clouds covering the rocky mountain valleys. With any luck, those would be enough to cover our approach from the enemy radar and missiles above. As we roared in low toward the entrance to the mountain chain, I heard Count give a sigh, "You know, I'm not really digging this altitude restriction. Feels like we're in a pretty enclosed space, huh?"
"I'm sure you know all about that," Bandog retorted, "Enclosed like solitary."
"Don't give Bandog any ideas guys," I said dryly, "He seems to get off on just thinking about solitary."
"Try me any time Trigger," our controller taunted. It was hard to tell if he was being sarcastic or not but I chose not to answer his threat.
"All right Spare Squadron, we have four targets around the valley," I said, "Let's split up and hit those radar facilities hard and fast before they knew what hit them."
Everyone responded in affirmatives and split off down different paths using the cloud cover, "Copy that."
As I wove through the narrow passes and approached my target, I heard Bandog remind us, "Remember, the enemy missiles are guided by a combination of satellites and the radar facilities. If you knock out the radar sites, the missiles should not be able to hit their targets."
"You sure you can trust that intel?" Full Band challenged.
Bandog chortled, "Only one way to find out. Why don't you make yourself useful for once and fly as a decoy for those missiles?"
"No one is going to be taking any missiles," I answered as I pulled up quickly from the clouds to strike a nearby radar facility on the top of a mountainside, "Locked. Fox-1."
I launched a missile and watched as it obliterated the radar site in a fireball before I ducked back under the clouds acting like a shark that was lurking around for its next kill. One by one, my wingmates all hit their sites and reported confirmation of their destruction. As we pulled up and regrouped above the clouds, we all enjoyed a minute of peace and quiet. There were no missile locks. Only clear blue skies and sun streaming down over the snowy mountains. Tabloid muttered, "Not that I mind or anything, but this has probably been the easiest straightforward mission we've had in quite a while. You guys ready to head home?"
As Spare Squadron leveled off and cruised over the snowy mountains, we all began to breathe another sigh of relief when we heard Bandog cut in over the radio, "Wait! Hold it!"
To our surprise, several radar blips appeared on our sensors and if we squinted, we could see what looked to be a whole squadron of aircraft approaching from the distance. Tabloid tried to get a better look and asked, "What's going on Bandog?"
Our controller ignored him and sounded like he was radioing the incoming bogeys, "This is the Air Force Base 444 Squadron. What is your affiliation?"
No answer. As both of our squadrons neared, we could start to get a visual on them and they looked to be Osean aircraft, F-18's. Was there another allied squadron operating in the region too? I had no idea there would be this many. I tried my radio, "Incoming allied fighters, please respond."
"You're wasting your time Trigger," Count sighed, "The regular forces probably don't want anything to do with units from the penal base."
That was when things took a turn for the worse. All of us suddenly heard the familiar buzzing warning sounds of enemy radar systems trying to achieve a missile lock. Count's eyes went wide, "What the hell? They have radar locks on us? The IFF says they're allies!"
Just then, one of the mysterious bogeys fired off a missile at Tabloid causing the rest of us to scatter. "Spare Squadron! Break! Break!" Tabloid shouted as he took evasive action to dodge the projectile.
Our squadron did likewise and scattered in the air as the bogeys in Osean paint pounced on us. As I veered and rolled through the chaotic aerial melee, I could hear Full Band calling out, "Whoah! Someone's on me! Are they enemies? Are these guys spoofing our IFFs?"
"Our IFFs are directly connected to our strategic satellites. They cannot be decoded," Bandog answered in a level, almost detached tone.
"What if they got hacked, or leaked to the enemy?" Tabloid asked as he narrowly evaded another enemy.
"That is impossible. Information regarding IFFs is top secret. There's no way the enemy could make a fake and it's no concern of yours right now!" Bandog rebuked him.
Count swerved around and shook off an enemy missile before joining me in midair, "Well if these guys aren't actually Oseans, they're probably flying captured aircraft."
No sooner had Count said that, I buzzed a nearby bogey and took a look in the cockpit. To my shock and horror, I didn't see any living pilot in he cockpit. I took a look at another bogey as it roared by me and it confirmed my suspicions. How the heck was this possible? "Negative Count. I'm not seeing any pilots! These bogeys look like drone fighters wearing our colors!
"Shit! How are we going to fight them if we can't target them or lock on with our weapons?" Tabloid added in fear.
I knew we were sitting ducks out here. We needed to buy some time so that we could regroup and try to form a new strategy. I took my plane into a dive toward the misty cloudy valleys below, "Follow me Spare Squadron. Let's make a break for the clouds and get out of the enemy's sights."
"And then what?" Count demanded.
"I don't know! I'm making this up as I go along here!" I replied in annoyance as we broke off and the Spares dipped back under the clouds to try and shake our pursuers, "Does anyone have any bright ideas? I'm all ears."
There was a long moment of silence before Tabloid spoke up, "I think I do... but you have to trust me."
"I've been hearing that quite a bit lately," I muttered in dread, "What's the plan Tabloid?"
"All aircraft, gather around Trigger."
I blinked in shock, "What?"
"Are you crazy? What good is that?" Count asked but Tabloid ignored him.
"Bandog, can you reset your tactical systems and register the blips around Trigger as friendlies?"
Our controller paused for a long moment before answering, "Sure."
"All right, all aircraft form up around Trigger, nice and tight," Tabloid said with conviction.
I looked over my shoulders and to my amazement, my three wingmen gathered behind me in a close diamond formation. "Guys?"
"You've gotten us this far Trigger," Full Band called out, "You're our ace and you've brought us together. If we're going to survive, we need you to lead us now."
"Stick with Trigger and we'll make it." Tabloid confirmed, "Count?"
There was a long pause before I heard him answer, "Roger that."
I was completely taken aback. In this dire moment of peril, the core of Spare Squadron was rallying together... around me. I had never been a flight leader before but these guys were putting their lives and their trust in my hands. I wasn't going to let them down. We may have been castoffs, criminals, and outcasts that no one else wanted, but right now we were Spare Squadron and that was all we needed. That was the only thing that mattered.
"Thanks guys," I answered, "Spare Squadron, prepare to ascend and engage the enemy. If we're going down here, we're going to do it fighting! Bandog? It's on you now!"
Our controller radioed back, "Full Band? What's your location?"
He answered "The tail end."
"Understood. Targeting ID systems updated. All other contacts will be tagged as enemies."
I throttled up and led my squadron skyward back through the clouds to meet the enemy circling above. As we burst from the cloud cover into the blue skies and the bright sun above, I gave a shout, "Let's take it to em!"
Spare Squadron rose from the low clouds like screaming phoenix birds ascending from the smoke as we fired a volley of missiles and gunfire. The enemy bandits scattered and moved to meet our attack. I got a bead on a drone and angled in to match its flight path, "Spare 15, engaging!"
Our backs were to the wall but we were not going to let a bunch of machines outfly real humans, not today. My targeting brackets went red and I let fly a heatseeker, "Spare 15, Fox-2."
The missile curved in a perfect arc and blasted the thrusters of the enemy causing it to leave a fiery streak behind it before it exploded in midair. From my vantage point, my wingmen seemed to take some encouragement from my example as they each pulled some fancy moves and registered one kill apiece. Amid the scramble in the skies, I let off some flares to shake off an enemy missile before returning fire with my guns. The shots hit the cockpit of the drone head on and must have shredded its main CPU as the enemy tumbled from the skies and crashed into the mountains below. "Don't let up Spares! Keep fighting!"
"No way I'm dying out here today," Full Band called over the radio until Bandog responded.
"This is the penal unit. I decide when you die. Pilots! Air contact! Projectile incoming ... it's too fast to be an aircraft."
Count frowned in confusion as he downed another bandit, "Huh? What's going on?"
We saw a small radar blip enter the airspace followed by Bandog counting down from five. The moment the countdown reached zero, our squadron was blinded by bright blue lights and rocked from the force of several large midair explosions. The hull of my Hornet rattled and my sensors flickered for a moment as shockwaves buffeted us and several large orbs of fiery blue light hung in the air. I steadied my wings and shouted,"Son of a bitch! Were those shockwaves? What the hell was that thing?"
Bandog's voice cut in, "Oh... by the way, transmission from HQ says that weapon is codenamed Helios. Seems like it's a long range missile carried by Arsenal Birds."
"Are you serious? And you're just telling us now?" Tabloid sputtered in outrage, "How can the enemy fire like that when they might have allies in the airspace? Don't they care?"
"Silence. Focus on the task at hand here Tabloid."
Bandog was right, but none of this was making sense anymore. We continued our dogfight with the drone Hornets in Osean colors and saw at least two of them had been incinerated by the friendly fire. Full Band had mentioned McKinsey was involved with something called Helios. Still, why were they firing here? And how had those drones spoofed our IFF? Was someone like Bandog or McKinsey really responsible for sharing intel with the Eruseans and setting this up as some kind of test? I didn't have time to think about it as the battle raged around me and Bandog reported another incoming Helios missile.
I could hear the frantic chatter of my wingmen as I evaded another enemy and pulled a high-G maneuver to get around him before lining up another missile lock. I had just enough time to get another shot off and shoot down the drone before the next Helios projectile hit. The skies were shattered again with thunder and blinding explosions that rattled every bone in your body while the remaining combatants scrambled to get clear. Once I regained my senses, I thought I saw my radar was clear of enemy blips when I heard Bandog radio Count, "Count, one to go. You don't want Trigger to beat your score today. Go get him!"
"What? Where? I can't see him," Full Band answered as his eyes readjusted from the glare of the last explosion that cleared the skies.
"Righto! This is it! I've got the last one!" Count called eagerly.
I blinked and tried to reorient myself from the Helios blast too. Was I seeing things right? Were my instruments shot? "Control, this is Spare 15. I'm not registering any hostiles on radar. Please advise."
To my shock, I looked out the corner of my eye and saw Count circle around fire a missile directly at Full Band's aircraft. Full Band gave a surprised cry as the missile struck his fuselage and caused the cockpit of his F-18 to shred off and explode, "What the... damn it! God damn it! Why..."
His voice gave out to static and I heard Tabloid give an alarmed shout, "Full Band's down! Was it friendly fire? Was he tagged as an enemy?"
It took me a moment for the realization to strike me. After the triumph and exhilaration of rallying against overwhelming odds and surviving the Helios missiles, we were now faced with sudden tragedy. Was it possible Bandog just painted a target on Full Band and had him killed on accident? Was it because he and McKinsey were wise to Full Band? What about the rest of us? "Count... what have you done?"
Count sputtered in shock, "Full Band? I... I didn't mean to... how..."
It took him a moment to put some pieces together and come to the same conclusion. Count's voice grew louder and had a sharp edge of fury, "Full Band was marked as an enemy on my HUD! This was your fault! You did this on purpose Bandog!"
"Did what?" our controller asked with venom dripping from his words.
"Don't play dumb with me! Full Band!" Count shouted again, knowing his cries to his fallen comrade were futile.
After a long silence, Bandog spoke, "It was an accident. Things got out of control here. Return to base."
"You son of a bitch! I won't forgive you for this Bandog!" Count exploded until I stepped in with a sharp rebuke.
"Count! Not now! Keep your bearing and follow me back to base."
He protested, "But..."
"That's an order Count!" I answered before turning my plane and heading for home. I felt sick to my stomach right now. I was terrified of what just happened and the thought of McKinsey targeting one of us next. I was furious at the action they had taken and I was distraught over the loss of another comrade. I had promised them I would get them through. So much for that. As a fighter pilot i was trained to know that letting your emotions get in the way of your judgment was a dangerous thing in battle. You could lose your focus and not only get yourself killed but get your wingmates killed too. Right now I had a long flight back to base and I would focus on a new plan... one to avenge our friends and to end this madness once and for all.
