"This is our purpose: to make as meaningful as possible this life that has been bestowed upon us...to live in such a way that we may be proud of ourselves, to act in such a way that some part of us lives on."

Oswald Spengler, author of The Decline of the West. RIP to a lost teammate. This chapter is dedicated to his memory.

Ch. 14 Shredding Paper

"You think you got it?" Henrik asked with a look on his face that he was expecting a 'no'.

"Yeah, fifty shots at 200 yards. The first ten are slow fire, standing. Then next ten are kneeling, with rapid fire. The ten after that are prone with rapid fire. The final twenty are also prone with slow fire."

"Good," the Wielvakian youngster grinned, "You just might do alright Voller. And you better take that scope off, that shit's banned."

"Oh," I grumbled as I unscrewed the mounts from the Mauser's rail and disassembled the whole unit within ten seconds. Henrik reached under the rifle bench and pulled out his baby, a MK-14EBR, chambered in 7.62x51mm. It was colored in alpine white, with the rails in a stainless steel tone. He quickly pulled out a magazine and loaded it into the rifle, and quickly pulled back the charging handle. Henrik then dropped into the proper prone stance by rolling into it from the right side, giving himself perfect weight distribution and balance. Henrik appeared satisfied with his little test, and hopped back to his feet.

"Now, I need to check your mount."

"What?" I asked, completely perplexed.

"Look, if we're actually going to contend for an HOA today, you need that gun to be a perfect fit for you. So, come on, mount up your gun and point it at me, bolt back of course."

I picked up the K98 from the table and cocked the bolt back into the open position. I slowly mounted the rifle into my shoulder cavity, and aimed it right at his right eye.

"Ok," he said as he grabbed the end of the barrel and peered down both sides, "It looks like you're a little low."

"Low?"

"Your eyes are lower than the sight, so it's going to give you an inconsistent sight picture. Lucky for you, I have something to fix that."Henrik dragged out a black duffel bag from under the rifle bench and rummaged through it for a few minutes. The Wielvakian pulled out a roll of olive drab cloth and some duct tape. "Hand it over, Erich."
I quickly surrendered my weapon to the teenager as he began his work. Henrik started by wrapping the olive cloth around the stock where I had rested my cheek, giving about another inch or two in rise. He then secured it with tape in the middle of the cloth, wrapping it super tight. "Alright, try that."

I mounted up the gun again and noticed how the sight picture was even with the iron sights on the gun. The improvement was next to impossible not to notice.

"Shit, that does make a difference!" I quipped.

"Yeah, it's what we have to do. The mount makes or breaks a shooter, especially in rifle, even in the shotgun stuff too. An inch on there can cost you several feet on a target out there," he replied seriously, securing the cloth with a little tape on the edges of the cloth. "And you'll need these," he continued reaching back into the duffel bag and pulling out four little metal strips, "These are 8mm stripper clips, since you'll be shooting in ten or twenty, and with the rapid sections, you'll have to reload fast too. This should speed you up significantly."

"Where'd you get these?" I asked.

"Let's just say when my squad leader doesn't order me to use the EBR, I like to be a little old-fashioned."

"Well, where's yours?"

"Oh, the gunsmith for the Edelweiss is doing some maintenance on the wooden stock, since I fell on a patrol about a week ago and cracked it. It's pretty much just like your K98, the long rifle."

"Yeah, I always had a dislike for the K version, it just doesn't have the same feel," I replied as I held the rifle against my hip, pointing skywards.

A loud buzzer went off, and several gun club staff ran onto the field carrying the targets and the mounts for them, all the way out to the 200 yard mark. Henrik looked down at his watch, and put his black custom mold earplugs in. He looked over at me and pointed to his watch, holding up 4 fingers in my direction. 4 minutes to go-time. Vixen walked over and gave me my polarized sunglasses and some cheap earplugs. I took care in rolling the earplugs carefully so they fit well and tight. I put on my sunglasses, and did a check down range, making an imaginary mount at the target area. Perfect.

The staff finished stapling the targets to the mounts and rushed back to the shooting blocks. Henrik beckoned me over and said to me, "I'm first up, just follow my lead."

I nodded in reply and took my position over at the rifle bench as Henrik readied himself in his standing position. The referees did a check on all the shooters to make sure everyone was ready to begin. Henrik this whole time was ice-cool, but as the call for the start came, I noticed the right corner of his mouth coming up in a smirk.

This kid is going places.

The buzzer went off again, and a cacophony of shots went off all over the place. Henrik hadn't even fired. He was very focused on his breathing, slowly watching his breaths, slowing his heart beat to a crawl.

BANG. The first shot was out. And now, Henrik was in his rhythm.

BANG. The second shot was out.

BANG. BANG. BANG. It was like he was shooting with a metronome, a shot down range on every second.

BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG. And with those shots perfectly executed, he was finished. Henrik snapped out of his stance and looked over at me with a smile.

"That's how you do it, Erich. Now, let's see how I did," he said as he pulled out his binoculars from his bag. Henrik quickly focused them down-range and I could see he was pleased. "Perfect score! Haven't done one in the standing for a while."

"Jesus!" I yelled yanking the binoculars from him and looked down the range. Sure enough ten little holes were in the X region of the target, the ten point ring. They were all in a neat pattern right around the center of the X. "I can see why you have a reputation, Henrik. Vixen, come look at this!"

She was just as shocked when she saw the target, "Henrik, I'm surprised you haven't won the damn Olympics yet!"

He immediately waved that train of thought away, "Yeah, and shoot a puny .22? Nah, I don't think so." Turning to me, he spoke again. "You're up, Erich."

I grabbed my rifle and took my place in the center of the shooting block. The targets were taken in, and new fresh ones were out there, ripe for the picking.

The buzzer went off, and I let out my first breath.

Just like hunting, Erich. Just take your time, and don't think too much.

I adjusted my aim a little high, and a little right to compensate for the wind. My finger was now slowly approaching the trigger. Pull!

-A few hours later...-

BANG.

And that was that. The last shots were up, and the shoot was over. Henrik of course, had won HOA individual with a score of 499 out of 500. He had only missed the ten ring once out of 50 fifty shots.

On the other hand, there was me. I had managed a 450 out of 500, which wasn't too bad, but not good enough to tangle with the the top guns like Henrik, or win the HOA for our team. Vixen was the first to congratulate me, even though I wasn't entirely happy with my performance. She gave me a big hug and whispered in my ear,

"See, that's why you fly a fighter, right?"

I couldn't help but laugh at that, "Yeah, probably. It's easier for me to hit a moving target!"

Henrik had collected his trophy and asked us to join him for the post-shoot dinner that everyone who shoot was invited to. They were serving some barbecued pork and grilled vegetables, so I didn't complain. As we sat down at a table outside and behind the clubhouse, my mind raced back to my job I had to go back to soon. I then realized that I was probably going to have a firing squad waiting for me as soon I as returned.

"Here you go," Henrik beamed as he handed me and Vixen a bottle of beer a piece, sitting down opposite of us, "I hope that's all right."

I took a sip and to my joy, it was my favorite, a Belkan Shiner. "You guessed so right, Henrik. Thanks a ton. And thanks for letting me shoot with you, even if I didn't help you out too much."

"Pfft. Forget it. It was a pleasure to shoot with you. Maybe after all this crap blows over, we can shoot sometime?" the young mountain trooper said flicking his messy red hair out of the way.

I nodded and called for Moritz. He hopped up in my lap and curled up, passing out within a minute. The whole place became almost dead silent, with only the sound of the winds blowing down from the mountains around us. It was then I realized that maybe, just maybe, I could use Henrik to my advantage. My trump card over Perrault, my own personal guard on base who answers only to me. But, I seriously doubted that he would do something like that.

"Henrik, I don't mean to ask so much of you already, but I need your help," I sighed as I continued to pet the sleeping Moritz on his head.

"What'cha need? I'd be glad to help."

"Well, it's no small task, and it's totally fine if you don't want to do it..."

"Ach! Come on!" he cut me off quickly, "Quit droning on! What do you need me to do, Erich?"

"I've gotten out of favor with our new base commander, a Colonel Henry Perrault. He threatened me quite seriously when I left last, and I have a hunch he's going to have the firing squad or something else equally horrid ready for me when I come back. I'm not going out without a fight, so that's where you come in."

"A little armed insurrection? I'm sure if I pass word up the chain I could probably get this guy reported, and a whole platoon of guys to help you Erich."

"I was afraid to do so, since he's really under Osean, not Ustian, jurisdiction."

"Ah, I see. One of the damn Osi's getting full of ordering us real continentals around, eh? This isn't going to float well with the Ustian High Command, especially Minister Graf. I know him personally, and I've only heard good things about you and your compatriots from him. I doubt he's going to let this go on for long." Henrik fumbled around in his pockets and pulled out a small business card, quickly handing it to me, "I'm going to call and report him to my commander tonight. See if I can't get clearance to bring a platoon of the Edelweiß down to your base and get this sorted. This is my phone number."

Vixen and I were both shocked at this development. I never knew he would take such a big and hard stance on this kind of thing.

"Thanks Henrik, I never thought anyone would help out like this!" I said in pure astonishment.

"Of course, I don't let any man get pushed down like that. Give me a call tomorrow morning, and we'll put together a plan."

-May 27, 1995 0430 Gerensburg Airfield-

Rather quickly, Henrik had convinced both his commander and Minister Graf that the situation needed an immediate resolution due to the threats issued by Perrault. I had signed and put forward a testimony of his threats... and a plethora of poor command decisions. The platoon of Edelweiß was cleared within the day and met us out at the Gerensburg airport to help formulate the plan Henrik and I were coming up with.

First, the F-16F Vixen and I had come in with would land back at the base as if nothing had happened. However, Henrik would actually be the one in the cockpit instead of myself. If asked, Vixen would say the reason for the lack of radio response from me was because I was asleep. After the plane landed, the platoon of about forty other Edelweiß troops would descend from the mountains and begin their attack on the base. They would capture and subdue Perrault ASAP, and then use him as leverage for the rest to stand down. Where would I be? I would be in the other fighter that was joining the Falcon in the air.

"You're flying that?!" Vixen screamed at me, "Have you lost your mind?!"

"Trust me Vixen, I'll be fine! I've put in 200 hours on this bird, I know my way around it. Just keep Henrik safe, ok?"

"Ugh... fine. Just make sure that thing works before you take off, okay?"

"Alright, alright, I will." I glanced over to my hund. "Come here Moritz!"

Bark!

The morning twilight was a relieving sight for my sore eyes, and it gave the bird I was going to fly a particularly beautiful glow. It was a special one, the Me 262. I had saved it a few months before the start of the Belkan War, and not a moment too soon, it seemed, as Belkan forces had again captured the ruins of town, just hours after I had left. I spent the precious days before the war training to fly this plane and used up God knows how much money rebuilding the engines. The jets were tricky buggers and were highly susceptible to flame-outs if the throttle was touched at all. I hopped in the cockpit and Moritz bounded into my lap just as the canopy was being pulled down and secured by the crews. I pulled on a plain, modern, matte grey flight helmet and hooked up the oxygen system to the mask. I primed the fuel and oil pumps, and hit the ignition. The engines whined to life, and everything was reading good. "Vixen you listening?" I called over the comm as I fastened my restraints.

"Yeah, I just got in. Henrik's gonna ride in the second seat. I told him not to touch anything."

"Good," I called out, a smile crossing my face at thought of the woman being bossy with the shooter. "The Swallow's ready to roll and readings are good. Did they load the cannons?"

"Yeah Erich," Henrik finally checked in, "We found some 30mm to load them up with. You're probably going to be the only air support we have, so watch your fuel and ammo. I'd say you'll most likely have about 30 to 35 seconds of full fire time."

"Roger, I'll keep that in mind. We better get going Vixen. We don't want to keep the guys on the ground waiting."

"Right Cipher, moving out."

I pulled the Schwalbe up behind the Falcon, following it onto the taxiway. The old jet was dwarfed by the new F-16. I felt like the damn Falcon was going to run over me if it accidentally hit the brakes. We finally got to the runway, and as the Falcon hit the afterburner, the jet wash actually pushed me back a little bit.

"Tower this is Galm 1, requesting take-off, over."

"Roger Galm 1, good luck today. Hope it all works out for you guys."

"Thanks, I appreciate it."

I throttled up to pretty much max power, and began the long process of the takeoff. After about half-way down the runway I had to puff the brakes to get the plane to start to pull up. Still, I needed about another quarter of the runway to get airborne. Once I was in the air, I made a slow turn to start heading south, the jets finally starting to get up to combat speed. I caught up with Vixen after a few minutes, and since I had to maintain speed without throttle changes, she had to keep with me on our short cruise at 25,000 feet.

Moritz was resting calmly. I hope he can take a little action. As I patted the dog on the head, he slowly closed his eyes in response.

"She's beautiful in the air, Cipher," Vixen said.

"I spent some serious time getting to her where she is now." I responded with nostalgia. "She almost killed me when I brought her back, flamed out the engines on landing. My gliding definitely saved my ass then," I said with a dark chuckle.

"Why'd you never tell anyone about this?" she asked.

"Figured it was better not to. Typically the response to telling people I had a plane like this is either, 'can I fly it', or, 'are you some sort of Rald radical'. Which I would answer 'no' to both. Guess it doesn't matter anymore."

"Galm 1, Galm 1, do you read? This is Eagle Eye, over."

Should I answer? Probably.

"This is Galm 1, go ahead Eagle Eye."

"Oh, thank god! I'm glad I got you first. The shit's hit the fan at Valais," the AWACS controller responded with a sigh of relief.

"What's happened?"

"Perrault went bloody insane! He has the whole place on lockdown, and from what Buzzard told me, they have lots of foreign mercenaries in there too."

"Are they all ok?"

"Yeah, they made them do some missions while you were gone, but they got through them fine."

"Good to hear, where are they know?"

"Probably confined to their quarters."

"Eagle Eye, we're going to change all that."

"How?"

"I have a platoon of Edelweiß mountain corps about to raid the base and capture Perrault under the direct orders of Defense Minister Graf."

"Wow! That's a big boot up his ass! I can't wait to see him get what's handed to him."

"And Eagle Eye, I'm sure you're picking up a weird radar contact near the F-16, right?"

"Yeah, now that you mention it..."

"That's what I'm really in. You're really going to be my eyes in the sky today, I'm flying an old Me-262, and I have no radar whatsoever. You're going to have to watch my back, alright?"

"How did you...?"

"Now is not the time. Can you watch my back?"

"You got it Cipher. I've got your back."

After another 15 minutes we were closing in on the mountains surrounding the base, and I quickly peeled off from Vixen once I heard the chatter being directed towards her.

"Galm 1, this is tower, do you read over?"

This is Galm 3, Galm 1 is currently dead asleep. I'm in control, over."

"Roger, you are ordered to land immediately runway 27, and await further instructions."

"I copy."

High in the morning sky, I was circling over the base, scoping out possible targets. The main problem was the AA hardpoints around the HQ. I was going to have to get them in my first runs. Next, I would probably have to hit the APC's that were roaming on the ground so I could clear a path for the mountain troops. Lastly, I would need to strafe near the planes, but not destroy them, so they didn't come in the air. Vixen landed without any problems and pulled off to the team hangar. The plane was quickly surrounded by several of the APC's and they escorted the Falcon over towards the HQ.

As soon as they stopped, I saw a staff car pull up to plane, and all guns were drawn on them. A person that looked like Perrault pointed for them to get out. Vixen did, but as to the plan, Henrik just sat there with the helmet on, and didn't move.

"Cipher, 10 seconds," I heard him whisper, "Get ready to get these bastards."

"I copy, moving in."

I put the Schwalbe into a dive, the engines whining louder and louder as I fell. I closed in more and more and finally, some explosions went off to my left. The Edelweiß had begun their attack.

That's my cue.

I mashed the trigger for the cannons, and the 30mm monsters thudded to life, blowing a few of the APC's away instantly, and putting the rest out of action. I swerved off from my attack run, and went after the AA guns. I was skirting over the runway at about 50 feet, heading towards the AA emplacements, letting out blasts of hot 30mm lead constantly. All that could be said of Moritz was that he was surprisingly tame, only raising his head to see what was going on outside. The gunfire and explosions meant nothing to him.

"Good effect Cipher! Vixen and I are hot on Perrault's trail. Keep the ground clear for me, okay?"

"Roger. Eagle Eye, you reading?"

"Copy! Picking up hostile tanks to South of the base!"

"I'll get them as soon as I get these guns."

To my good fortune, the crews weren't expecting an air raid, and I took out the cannons without any casualties. I pushed for the tiny bit of throttle power I had left, and turned to my left, back off to the South. When I faced that way, my stomach dropped. Abrams tanks.

"SHIT! LOTS OF ABRAMS!" I screamed as I headed for them, "Get the troops moving now!"

"Roger Cipher! Ground forces, haul ass! You've got enemy Abrams tanks coming for you, move it!"

I lined up my gun sight and immediately mashed the trigger. I saw the tracers rushing away from the plane and into the tanks. The 30mm shells were paying off, with about six of the tanks down and out. I still had about 10 tanks to destroy. I made a swooping turn around and came back low and fast. Another set of quick bursts knocked the rest of the tanks out.

"Tanks are down, Eagle Eye. God, I love this plane!"

"Good work, It looks like it's clear enough to land. I suggest you get down there and get to work."

"Roger, thanks for the help Double E."

"Good luck out there."

I started my approach from the valley to runway 9, rather unopposed, but I still got the occasional rifle round hitting the plane now and then. I cut the throttle back, praying hard for the engines to stay alive. As they slowly drained speed, the whine of the engines decreased, and there was no sputter or shaking. The engines had held together for once. I continued the approach, and at last landed on the tarmac. Once I got to an acceptable speed, I turned off the runway, and parked the 262 over by the team hangar. I popped the canopy, and rushed out as fast as I could, picking up Moritz and leaping off the airframe in the process. I pulled out my jet-black Walther PPK pistol from my holster, and began my search for Henrik and Vixen.

The whole damn place was covered in smoke making it near impossible for me to see even 10 feet in front of me. I sprinted in the direction of the HQ, or at least I thought I was, with Moritz in tow. After running for what felt like an eternity through that fog of war, I managed to stumble into two of the mountain troopers. They were decked out in full combat kits, bandoliers, packs, helmets, the whole thing. They looked and meant business.

"Are you Cipher?" one of them asked from behind a balaclava mask.

"Yeah, that's me," I responded as I hunched over to catch my breath.

"Major Magnusson has the Colonel cornered, sir," the other one continued also wearing a similar black mask, "But I'm afraid it's not all sunshine and rainbows."

"Why's that?"

"He's got two hostages so far as we know," the first one added his eyes dropping out of contact with mine.

"Do you know who they are?"

"No sir, that's why the Major needs you right away," the second one replied anxiously.

"Alright, let's go."

They led me through the rest of the smoke over into the HQ, and the whole place was riddled with bodies of the mercenaries. The walls were covered in bullet-holes and blast marks from grenades. This place was the bloody front line. We went off to the left hallway heading towards the commander's office. There were tons of the Edelweiß in the halls now, waiting outside the office. Henrik and Vixen were both waiting there, Henrik as stoic as ever, but Vixen looked to be on the verge of a total breakdown. I rushed up to her and gave her a hug. She then whispered something in my ear that I really didn't want to hear.

"He has them Erich! Buzzard and Zero, he has them!" she sobbed uncontrollably.

"WHAT?! The bastard!" I shouted.

I saw Henrik turn my way, his face turning more sour by the second, "He's already killed two of my men, and threatens to kill your's if you don't go in there."

"I'll go," I said as I tucked my Walther in the back of my pants under the cover of my jacket.

"No, I can't lose you Erich, goddamn it!" Vixen said as she grabbed my sleeve.

"I'm not letting that scumbag get away with this, Vixen. I'm going to get them out, and I will come back, I promise!" I said as I kissed her on the cheek, and put my head against her's with my eyes closed, for a few long seconds.

I turned back to the door, that gateway to hell, pushed it open, and walked in. As it quietly shut behind me, I walked through the reception area, equally ravaged by the fight. I knocked on the door to the office.

"It's Völler, don't shoot. I don't have a gun," I said mentally crossing my fingers.

"Enter," came the scumbags voice, making it seem like this whole thing was nothing more than me reporting in.

I walked in to the office. It was shockingly clean compared to the reception room. Perrault was, of course, sitting at his desk. He had obviously prepared for this moment. On their knees in front of his desk, under the barrels of mercenary assault rifles were Buzzard and Zero, both bloodied and beaten heavily. Buzzard managed to smirk a little.

"Good to see you, pal," he whispered. The mercenary then smacked him in the face with the butt of his gun.

"Who gave you the permission to speak, worm?" he spat.

"The fairy godmother, you slimy bitch."

Perrault then trained his eyes on me. I could see the rage, the hatred in his eyes, brewing hotter and more potent. It wasn't pleasant to have that staring at you, but I didn't budge. Not an inch. I wasn't going to lose this time.

"Now, Major, you see, we're in a bit of a delicate situation aren't we?" Perrault spoke as he looked behind him through the windows into the chaos, "You have something I want, and I have something you want. Well," he said with a sadistic smirk, looking at my two other wing mates. "Make that two somethings."

"What do you want, Colonel?"

"You. I want to turn you in to the Chief of Staff in Oured, and finally get my damn General's promotion that I have deserved for my duties. If you surrender yourself, I will let your friends go."

This is what the world has come to? Terrorism and subversion for rank? What the hell is this world coming to?

"Don't do it!" Zero yelled, "It's not worth it!"

His guard smacked him down into the floor with his rifle, and kept beating him.

"You speak again, and I shoot you!"

I was barely able to control myself. I looked over to the guard and saw a familiar red and white logo. My god! No. This can't... This can't be! He's Gründer!

"Perrault, I knew from the beginning you were never working for Osea. This is something else. You want me out to the prolong the war. You work for Gründer don't you? That's where these guys are from, isn't it?"

He chuckled at that.

"Very perceptive of you Major. That's correct, I work for Gründer, these mercenaries work for them too. They sent me here to get you out the war, dead or alive. You're dictating the war pace, and moving it to a conclusion rather... quickly. Gründer loses money if you do that. So, if you happened to be arrested or killed, the war would go on indefinitely. For every bullet, missile, plane, tank, and rifle made, Gründer is there, on both sides. You might think that it's only Belka, but it's Osea as well. We forced them into retaining our services when the war began, by threatening them with cutting off war supplies if they did."

Rainman, you son of a bitch, you were right!

"Now, Major, are you coming with me, or not? Your friends don't have much time."

"Don't listen to him, Erich! Keep fighting!" Buzzard shrieked. Blood was oozing out of his mouth, and even more came with the strikes from the guard. After several hits, the guard pulled his gun and cocked it.

"You have ten seconds before I kill him, Major," Perrault snarked.

No... I...can't. This...why? Why this? I just stood there. Silent. Staring at the ground.

"Five seconds, Major."

Then I did what I had to do. I pulled the Walther out from my pants and fired. I struck Perrault right in the center of his forehead with the shot. I quickly fired two more shot in quick succession. As the bullets struck the mercenaries though, both of their guns went off.

"Son of a bitch!" I screamed, "VIXEN! GET IN HERE! QUICK!"

I rushed over to Buzzard as I heard the steps of the rest of my allies coming in behind me. I was cradling Buzzard's head. He was still smiling, even though he had a hole in his chest that was spilling the life from him.

"Well," he softly said, "Guess the ride's over, Cipher. I'm going to Valhalla, just like Andrianov."

"No, don't you do that on me!" I said with tears flowing down from my eyes, "You're going to be fine!"

I quickly started to put pressure on his bullet wound which was right above his heart, gushing blood. He grabbed my arm and just shook his head.

"Just promise me, you'll finish this Erich, you'll end this madness. That's good enough."

"I promise, I promise, George," I said to him holding his hand.

"Heh, you calling me George again... Thanks for the wake-up call..."

He then relaxed, his eyes shifting away from mine. His last breath coming out long and slow. I could feel his muscles relaxing, and his hand fell away. George 'Buzzard' Kildaire was dead. I turned over to the direction of Zero, and Vixen had the same expression as mine. He was gone too.

I ran my hand over his eyes, closing them for a final time. I stood up and turned to the collected group of soldiers, of fighters.

"We got a lot of work to do, everyone. I want us up and running by tomorrow morning. I doubt this is going unnoticed. We need signed reports on the whole thing from everyone. They're going to want the full story, and we're going to give it to 'em."

Glossary:

HOA: High-Overall, typically a combined score from every event in a shoot.

Me 262 'Schwalbe': You don't know what this? Geez. You'd probably want to know that it's the first ever jet fighter. Really good plane, except for the fact that the engines, guns, and acceleration were not that great. Really vulnerable on takeoff and landing. That's why I had Cipher work on it for a while to make it reliable. Schwalbe, or Swallow, was its nickname