Well another semester has begun and the first week went very well. I made it to all my classes on time, only walked into the wrong classroom once...so good. Over break I played one of my old favorites, Call of Duty 2: Big Red One. In that game is a mission called 'Liberators'; I'll give you three guesses as to what the mission involves. But that mission got stuck in my head as I started writing the first half of this chapter and drastically affected the second half as you shall see and hopefully, enjoy.

. . .

"Okie-dokie art-ah-choke-ies." Ah said once we'd all sat down 'round tha "War Table" as we was callin' it. "Looks like everyone's here, let's git started." We was all in tha empty Hangar 2 on Monday to discuss strategy; we had 'bout 'till Satuday 'fore Extra Order soldiers hit tha island. T'was ah merry gatherin' with Mister Chang, Mizz Balalaika, Ronnie tha Jaws, Abrego (who made sure to sit tha farthest away from Mister Chang an' Mizz Balalaika as possible), an' course us of Lagoon an' our own charmin' associates. W'all, 'cept Leigarch. He was where he ought to be, at work. "What Ah think we outta do first is make ah To-Do list…sound good?"

"Sounds great to me." Chang agreed. "Now, most of us haven't had any combat training on this kind of scale, so Miss Balalaika, Dutch and Country…we're looking to you as resident experts."

"Cool! Alrighty, Hansel to tha chalkboard if yah please an' Gretel, be ah dear an' go git tha biggest map of tha island we've got." Gretel disappeared off to tha house while Hansel stood at tha chalkboard an' wrote "To-Do" at tha top; noddin' to show he was ready.

"First, a better idea of their capabilities." Mizz Balalaika said, lookin' tha happiest Ah'd ever seen her. She looked like Christmas, her birthday an' Tha Fourth of July had somehow all fallen on tha same day. She was pos-ah-tively ecstatic.

"Second and more specifically, what equipment they have." Dutch added. "Do a sub-set under that with: armor, aircraft, naval and heavy weapons."

"Third, where they're most likely to attack." Ronnie put in his two cents.

"Do what we've got for people next." Abrego said. "Oh, and what equipment we've got too."

"Throw in what we should do with prisoners." Revy said an' everyone stared at her like she'd grown ah third eye. "What? They could always puss out and surrender…it could happen."

"Highly improbable…" Chang drummed his fingers on tha table in deep thought an' pondered Revy's suggestion. "But not impossible. Add it to the list Hansel."

"Hansel, put me down fer gittin' tha people involved." Now it was mah turn fer ah bunch of funny looks. "Hey, it's their town too. Tha heck do yah think ah militia's made of? They's got ah right to fight fer Roanapur's much as we do. 'Sides, there's all tha smaller gangs that ain' here an' Lord knows we could use tha numbers."

"An excellent point Country." Mizz Balalaika surprised me by agreein'. "Add it to the list Hansel."

"I would like to make a suggestion as well, if I may?" Lotton asked from tha back of class.

"Of course you can. That's why you were invited." Dutch turned to look at Lotton. "What's on your mind?"

"Are there any ways we can continue to attack or harass Extra Order in the meantime; perhaps slowing them more or crippling any advantages?" Lotton said with his fingers in what Ah call "Tha Triangle of Plottin'." He had tha tips of his fingers together with his pointer fingers pressed to his lips an' thumbs keepin' his palms apart. Tha shape of his hands made ah triangle…tha pose of arch enemies, Bond villians an' Ah guess, schemin' Wizards too.

"Attack, attack, attack!" Ronnie laughed an' pointed at Lotton with his cig. "I like yer spirit kid. Okay, so whattah we have?" Everyone reviewed tha list jest in time fer Gretel to come back with tha map.

"Put it on tha easel next to tha chalkboard. Thank yah very kindly little mizz." Gretel set up tha three foot by three foot map of tha whole island an' went to go sit with Frederica an' Shenhua. "Oh…kay. So what're we thinkin'?"

"Well, numbers one and two we can't answer right this second." Rock said. "That we'll have to do later; hopefully in the next few days if it can be managed. The rest we can cover though."

"So let's think like E.O. for a minute then." Mister Chang said. "Where's the best place to come ashore, assuming they are attempting an amphibious landing?"

"I think that's the safest bet." Mizz Balalaika probably had thought this scenario an' hundreds like it out ah time or two. "There's too many of them to shuttle in helicopters and have to secure a landing zone for all of their heavy equipment. The best way for that is a water landing."

"W'all, let's see if we can' least narrow it down by seein' where they can't land?" Ah got up an' headed fer tha map, stealin' Rock's pen off his ear on tha way. Tha island's best described as kidney shaped with tha harbor on tha small, bent side to tha east, t'wards tha bottom. "So here's town, their goal. South an' west of it's tha suburbs…northwest is tha mine, sawmill, tha remnants of tha Rascal's ops an' direct north of town is this spot right here."

"Yep, that's right." Rock was tappin' his pack of smokes on his palm in lieu of me takin' his pen. "So could they just attack the port outright?"

"Two words Rock." Benny had ah history lesson to give. "Dieppe Raid. The British and Canadians tried just that on a French port in '42 and got annihilated. Sailing into a port, especially a defended one; is suicidal."

"So tha port's out." Ah X-ed out tha harbor. "We can all agree tha south an' west's out too?"

"Yeah, the west's sheer cliffs." Dutch agreed. "Unless they want to reenact the 2nd Rangers scaling of Pointe du Hoc, which I doubt, I don't think think they'll go for it."

"The south is out too, the beach is all rocks, dunes and bluffs." Mizz Balalaika said. She had her thinkin' cigar smolderin' while rollin' another thoughtfully 'tween her fingers. "For them, getting troops ashore there would be tricky, but unloading their equipment a nightmare."

"South…out…an' west…out." Ah X-ed out tha south an' drew ah squiggle line down tha west coast. "An' that jest leaves tha north. Tha beach's sand, purdy flat an' big 'nough to offload. Now, they can come down tha west road, tha spine of tha mountains in tha middle…but Ah wouldn' wanna do either of them if Ah was E.O."

"Why's that?" Abrego asked, tryin' to follow 'long. "The west road's good and they've fixed the roads through the mountains that got taken out from the substation blowing up."

"'Brego, know how rough goin' it gits in tha mountains of Columbia?"

"Yeah, every hilltop becomes a stronghold."

"That's what'd happen if they went through tha mountains. We'd git 'em caught in one of tha valleys an turn every crest of every hill into ah firebase. 'S far as tha west goes, it's too narrow."

"Narrow?"

"The road is cut into the cliff side." Dutch explained. "At its widest point, the ledge the road's on is maybe one hundred yards wide. That's too narrow for 2,000 soldiers and their vehicles. They're going to want to move fast and need room to maneuver, especially their tanks."

"And besides, we could just sit on the cliffs above them and drop rocks on their heads." Revy said. "Or just blow some sections of the road and they'll be stuck there."

"That just leaves one option then." Rock's brain was doin' some process of elimination. "The northeast side of the island, which would lead them right here."

"I'm not terribly familiar with that section." Mister Chang admitted. "It's a little out of my normal range."

"W'all, from tha beach south, it's woods on tha west at tha foot of tha mountains. There's jest one road through it, raised up ten feet an' made of dirt mostly. It's raised 'cause there used to be paddies an' fields on either side of it in spots." Ah explained, pointin' out tha locations on tha map as Ah went. "Then, 'bout halfway down, or 'bout two, three miles, is tha canal from tha sawmill. It's dry now, but they fill it up now an' then to float their cut-up timber out to ah barge an' then out to sea. Then there's more overgrown fields to tha west of tha road. On its east side, south of tha canal, is all tha dirt they dug fer tha canal. Then there's ah two hundred yard strip of grass, then another hundred yards of woods, next ah two hundred foot tall hill that runs from tha island center right down to tha beach. That hill is right behind this hangar, two hundred yards that way." Ah concluded, pointin' at tha back wall.

"I think the hill behind us and the woods in front of it would be perfect for a line of defense." Mizz Balalaika said. "An MLR along the hill, the ocean guards our right and the mountains cover our left. All we would have to do is bend our line to cover the gap in the mountain where the canal cuts through on the left."

"Yah know Sis…" Revy said an' readjusted herself so she could lay her legs 'cross Rock's lap. "It sounds like you've thought this all out before."

"Well I have to keep my mind fresh somehow Two-Hands; I can't let it go soft on me."

"Right. So, what's next?"

"What we have for numbers." Dutch said. "Now, I want honest estimates." He looked 'round at Ronnie an' Abrego. "Let's start with you Ronnie. How many soldiers can you bring? Guys ready to go in two, three days?"

"Ah geez…put my balls in a vice…uhmm…" Ronnie rolled his eyes 'round in their sockets an' shut 'em tight to do some mental math. "I got…seventy five."

"Pffft! That's it?!" Revy lauged like it was tha funniest thang she'd heard all day.

"Revy, please." Dutch sighed. "Hansel, new columns. One for us, one for them. Write: Italians dash seventy five. How about you Abrego?"

"Same for me. Seventy five guys, ready to go."

"Alright. Mister Chang?"

"I'm down a little since The Lab but…I say…one hundred."

"Now we're getting somewhere." Dutch turned to Mizz Balalaika. "And…?" He paused, lookin' like he might laugh. "How about you?"

"Two…hundred." Mizz Balalaika said with ah smile she couldn' keep from breakin' out 'cross her face. "Ready to go in two days or two minutes."

"Good to know. That brings us to…"

"Four hundred and fifty. Tack on twelve for us, four hundred and sixty two." Rock added up. "That's still really low…"

"What about The Church?" Benny asked. "They have a stake in this too and certainly have the hardware to compete."

"How's 'bout we ask 'em when they git here?" Ah said. "Dutch, you know what Ah mean, tha special order we made yesterday outta be gittin' here any minute now." Rock asked what we'd bought and how much we'd paid for it. "Don' worry none 'bout tha money. We filled 'em in an' Sister Yolanda said it was on tha house, given tha circumstances."

"So is there anything else to add?" Dutch asked, lookin' 'round fer any raised hands.

"What about police?" Shenhua asked from tha back, next to Lotton.

"W-what?! Asesino, you're talkin' pure loco!" Abrego laughed like it was tha funniest thang in tha world. "Us!...Ask the policia…for help?!"

"I think it's an excellent idea." Lotton came to Shenhua's defense an' Abrego quit laughin'. "They have some top-notch riot control equipment we could put to use and the manpower. Besides…" Lotton actually started to smile ah bit, like he'd thought of somethin' clever. "It's not like they can arrest ALL of us."

"Fair enough." Mister Chang said an' closed tha matter. "We will have to ask Chief Watsup of course, but I think we can put him down at…fifty officers?"

"That would bring us up to five hundred and twelve." Rock added again. "I think we can get at least a few more from smaller groups and civilian volunteers."

"Ah reckon so too Rock. Oh, Church's here." Four of Tha Church's trucks pulled in through tha gate, tha lead driven by ah grinnin' Rico. "How's 'bout we break fer an hour?" Everyone got up from tha table to stretch an' some have ah smoke, Mister Chang floated tha idea of orderin' pizza an' me an' tha rest of Lagoon went to meet Tha Church.

"Hey Lagoon, our best customers!" Rico greeted as he hopped outta his truck. "So, that's the Corsair that blew up Lin's house?" He asked while peerin' into tha open doors of Hangar 1. "Haven't had a chance to see it this close."

"That'd it be, tha one an' only. So didja git everythang Dutch an' Ah ordered?" Ah asked, leadin' tha group 'round back of tha truck an' threw back tha canvas cargo bay cover.

"Special ordered from our contacts in Cambodia." Rico said as we admired tha eight, five an' ah half foot long, white bodied an' red tipped payloads in tha truck. "We have everything you ordered: Eight five-inch HVAR's, 2,400 rounds of linked fifty caliber in 400-round belts, an additional 5,000 rounds of linked fifty caliber in 500-round belts, sixteen 500-lb GPHE bombs, one 1,000-lb GPHE bomb and…le piece de resistance, very tricky to find by the way, two Mark 74 napalm bombs." He rattled off.

"Ho-lee…shit." Revy breathed as she looked in at tha last truck to see yard upon yard of linked fifty caliber belts. "What's all this for?"

"There's 2,400 rounds fer tha Corsair, tha rockets, thousand-pounder an' Mark 74's fer it too." Ah said. "Tha other 5,000 rounds is fer tha guns on tha Liberator an' so's tha sixteen five hundred pounders."

"Are we going to do what I think we're going to do?" Rock asked with ah bit of awe an' wonder. "That's…nine thousand pounds of bombs. Isn't the B-24's capacity eight thousand?"

"If yer thinkin' that we're gonna bomb E.O.'s little submarine base 'till tha ceilin' caves in on 'em…then yes, we're gonna do exactly what you think we're gonna do."

. . .

Dutch made his way down to the section of the harbor where the fishermen brought in their daily catch. It was now Tuesday and the harbor wasn't too busy but still had enough traffic to make it look chaotic. As he walked, he thought over the rest of the meeting the day before. Once it had reconvened, equipment available to them had been discussed. Everyone was surprised to hear the Italians had squirreled away a battery of five M3 37mm guns; leftovers from World War Two. They had been acquired in Italy and eventually worked their way to Roanapur in the event of a rainy day. Ronnie said if they were being saved for a rainy day, then it was certainly fucking pouring. The Columbians were down in equipment still since their fighting with Roberta but could bring four up-armored SUV's with roof mounted M2 Browning's to the field. The Triad had three DShK heavy machine guns and also produced a pair of AGS-17 grenade launchers. Balalaika topped the rest with five DShK's, four AGS-17's and two five gun batteries of M1938 120mm mortars; and that surprised absolutely no one. Lagoon was relatively set with heavy weapons. They had: one M2 Browning, one M1919, one M79 grenade launcher, the Gepard anti-material rifle and the M202 Flash Dutch had kept secretly pigeonholed for just such an occasion. There was also the F4U-4 Corsair, now dubbed with a name: Ferocious Fredi, the B-24J Liberator Roanapur Raider and those planes made up their Sharkmouth Airforce. Lastly was the one remaining Mark 8 torpedo on the Black Lagoon. Between the five of the groups, there were also enough RPG launchers and rockets to take on an entire tank company.

As far as civilians went, Rock, Revy, Benny and Country, Sawyer, Lotton and Shenhua were scouring the city find volunteers. So far, not many seemed to grasp the concept of "volunteering" and gave firm refusals when told the job didn't pay; even when an imminent E.O. invasion was mentioned. Chief Watsup on the other hand, had jumped on board immediately. His decision added fifty officers of the Roanapur PD to their ranks, along with three riot control vehicles, tear gas and more stun grenades than one could count.

Lotton's point of continuing to attack and harass E.O. had been discussed, answered mostly by 8,000 pounds of general purpose, high explosive bombs; which happened to be the B-24's maximum capacity. As far as what the bombs would be used for, the jury was still out and a decision had not been reached. Adding to his point, Lotton also suggested additional defenses. Dutch was ready for that too, explaining The Art of War concept. So as he walked through town, traps, mines and ambush points were being set up along the five mile stretch from the beach to the north all the way down to their MLR. Revy's question had been answered last. She actually had answered it herself with one sentence and no one could think of any way to argue it with her. She had simply said:

"We're pirates aren't we? We give no quarter."

. . .

Dutch had finally reached the dockyards where the fishing fleets were moored. He made his way along the wood plank wharf, weaving between stands of fish on ice, massive spools of rope and shouting deckhands as they offloaded their cargo. After a few minutes of searching he found the skipper he was looking for. The man was older than the sea itself, wrinkled and dried by years of sun and salt, old faded tattoos crisscrossed his arms and gnarled fingers somehow still deft despite age and arthritis were mending his nets.

"Ahoy there Dutch! How's that scuba gear yah bought working out?"

"Like a good luck charm. Revy uses it every time she can think of an excuse and sometimes even when there isn't one."

"Well I'm glad; you always say how good a swimmer she is. But I don't think you're here to just chat though?"

"Nope. I'm wondering if you'd like to make some money?"

"Do yah even have to ask? What's on your mind?"

"Take me to your maps and I'll show you." Dutch followed the skipper into his vessel's wheelhouse and the pair looked at the massive chart of the waters surrounding Roanapur. "Okay, see this chain of islands to the northeast?"

"Islands? More like coral reefs that have accumulated some sand. Do yah know how many ships have gone down trying to reach that Jap sub base?"

"Enough that no one bothers to try anymore. All I want you to do is go fishing out there for the next few days, come back say, Sunday. Call me if you see anything…interesting; especially around that sub base."

"Interesting eh? I dunno Dutch, I hear tell around the yards someone's living out there who wouldn't like some Peeping Toms on their doorstep."

"I never said it would be easy money, did I?" Dutch said and put a stack of American Ben Franklins on the map. "Here's half. You'll get the rest when you get back or sooner if you see something that really impresses me."

"Sounds simple enough." The skipper flipped through the bills to quickly count them and jammed the wad into his pocket. "Okay Dutch, you've got your eyes on the water. The boys and me'll shove off within the hour and see what we can see."

"I'm trusting you big time with this. Don't let me down, the city depends on it."

. . .

The Yellow Flag was currently closed with reopening pending on if it was still standing in a week or not. Bao had kept himself and Leigharch busy fortifying the building and fixing any current defenses. At the moment, Leigharch was forcing a bent set of steel window bars back into place and welding them down. Bao had just finished replacing the last exterior wooden door with a steel security one and was taking his break at the bar.

"All right Mister Bao, she's all done." Leigharch shut off the welder and flipped up the hood on his mask. "Anything else you be needin'?"

"No, I think this's good as it's gonna get." Bao looked around the bar and surveyed their handiwork. "You can head on home; I'm sure Benny wants his welder back."

"Aye, that he does. Country also needs me help; mentioned somethin' about him wanting 'another set of eyes'. Bugger all if I know what that means."

"Who knows what anyone from Lagoon wants or means? Anyway, get going. If you're still alive after this blows over, I'm sure the place will need a lot of repairs." Leigharch took his leave and the welder and Bao was alone in the bar. He had been asked if he would join everyone at the front line but had declined in order to defend his business and property. He did feel like he ought to do something to help though; despite how much of a hard time he gave them, Bao didn't want anyone from Lagoon to get hurt. But he also knew he wasn't the 22 year old ARVN sergeant he used to be. However…

'I wonder if he's still in the service?' Bao thought as he picked up the phone. 'Wouldn't surprise me, he was the only one who loved the Brown Water Navy more than Dutch.' Bao dialed and drummed his fingers impatiently as the phone rang. Finally, after what felt like an eternity:

"Royal Thai Navy, First Area Command, River Patrol, this is Commander Tanh speaking."

"Commander Tanh? Is the Thai Navy really scraping that deep into the bottom of the barrel? I know they took you in after the VNN dissolved but this is ridiculous."

"Holy shit, Sergeant Bao! You're still alive, you grumpy bastard? Are you still mucking around in the swamps…you're not in the NVA now are you?"

"No, no! I got out right as Saigon fell. Managed to open that bar I'd always talked about."

"So how's that going?"

"It's…well…going. It's certainly interesting, never a dull moment. Roanapur is its own animal."

"I'll bet; that's a rough part of the world. Anyway, great to hear from you, what's the occasion?"

"I was wondering if you still had that patrol of ten PBR's you used to run around the Delta in?"

"How do you think I got the hell out of Vietnam? Of course I do, they're mothballed at the moment but still run. Why?"

"I would like to call in my one favor, if it's still good. How soon can you get those PBR's to Roanapur?"

. . .

"Oh no Fredi…look who's back early." Country said as Leigharch pulled in through the airfield's gate. He'd used an advance on his pay to buy an M151 jeep from one of Roanapur's many military surplus dealers. It had been slightly modified for the civilian market, painted a glossy red instead of the regular, flat O.D. green. Leigharch had spent his first afternoon owning it zipping around the island with the rag-top and doors off and the windshield folded down, speeding through town like a maniac.

"Well, now we…will get to see…how Shenhua will take…seeing him in person." Sawyer said as Leigharch parked next to his quarters and started walking to the house. "Here we go." The Big Four had stopped by again for another meeting and were all still at the airfield. Everyone hung back, either on the porch, peering from upstairs windows or the living room and the hangar doors to watch Shenhua and Leigharch come face-to-face on Country's front lawn.

"Hello Leigharch." Shenhua said calmly as Leigharch nervously played with his sunglasses before deciding to fold them into his shirt pocket.

"Hey, hey there Shenny." He had trouble meeting her gaze, looking almost anywhere but directly at the woman before him. "What's uh, what's new?"

"I thought you with head doctor." Shenhua had her arms folded across her chest and was glaring at Leigharch with the most amount of hate she could muster into her eyes. "Fried your brain then went off to Mars and not come back?"

"Ah, that I did yes." Leigharch had jammed his hands into his pockets, unsure quite what to do with them. "But I got better, and clean too. Have me a job at The Yellow Flag now. It's an honest one, imagine that. But listen, I've been thinking, since I'm better, maybe you and me could…" WHACK! Shenhua slapped Leigharch across the face hard, her long, polished nails leaving four red lines across his cheek.

"Oh, me and you what?! You fool once, but not twice!" Shenhua yelled, starting to lose her composure. "I not cheap whore for your play with!"

"I know I messed up and I'm sorry. But Shenny, if you…" Leigharch apologized and WHACK! was smacked again with Shenhua's other hand.

"My name Shenhua! I not Babe, not Love, and not Shenny! I Shenhua! You never call me by other, understand yes?!"

"…Yes." Leigharch agreed, holding the right side of his face as blood dripped from a cut on his cheek. "I understand."

"That very good. You lucky Bumpkin need you help tomorrow otherwise I split you in four."

"Then I'm lucky indeed. For whatever its worth, I really am sorry." Leigharch said, making sure to stay out of arm's reach. "I won't be a bother to yah Shenny er…Shenhua. But we're bound to run into each other with this town bein' small as it is…and I work at the bar too. So's can we least be friendly?" He slowly put out his hand, exposing his face to potential attack. Shenhua looked down at his hand, up at his face and back to his hand.

"Hmmph." She took his hand and quickly shook it, withdrawing hers after one shake.

"So…are we alright?"

"I suppose." The pair separated, Leigharch heading for his barracks and Shenhua back to the hangar. Those who had been watching suddenly realized Shenhua had spotted them and quickly found themselves something to do. Once she had disappeared back into the hangar, everyone realized they had been holding their breath.

"That was close." Sawyer said, watching Shenhua emerge again from the hangar, this time with Lotton. "I've seen her…mad before…but that was…bad."

"Tha was bad huh?" Country asked. "How was that bad?"

"Didn't you see?" Sawyer pointed at the tracks Leigharch and Shenhua had left on the dirt along the edge of the yard. One set were size nine and a half boots and the other were bare feet. "She took off…her high heels. That's when…she's ready…to go all out."

"Huh. Ah see…Ah'll keep that in mind."

"So what did he do anyway?" Rock asked.

"Her." Sawyer said simply.

"I…don't quite understand?"

"From what Fredi's told me, 'pumped an' dumped' would be tha best way to describe it." Country explained and drew groans of revelation from everyone. "Yeah…not too slick there."

"At least she kept her cool." Revy said, watching Shenhua and Lotton hop onto Lotton's moped and zip away through the airfield's gate. "I sure wouldn't want to clean up the mess."

"Well, hopefully they're gonna be peaceful with each other now." Country got up from the porch couch and stretched. "Okay, let's git back to tha meetin'. Ah'm sure Mizz Balalaika's gonna have some more to say 'bout how we're gonna put tha B-24 to use."

. . .

"You do realize how dangerous this idea is?" Balalaika asked Country. "They may not have their missile systems online, but still could blow you out of the sky."

"Yeah, Ah know." Country said, checking the steel plates of his flak jacket and putting them back into their respective pouches. "But we all talked it out last night an' think it's something tha's gotta be done."

"There's no way of being sure that you'll even do any damage." Chang added, watching Country slip a plate out of its pouch and inspect it for defects. "There's also the chance all seven of you could not come back…you said yourself there are no parachutes on the Raider."

"Then we'll just have to be really careful." Revy said, joining the discussion on the porch. "It's either this or sitting around and letting E.O. get ready unimpeded. Risky as hell, but when has that ever slowed us down?"

"Never has Two-Hands." Chang agreed. "I'm just surprised you convinced Lotton and Leigharch to go up with you. How did you manage that?"

"That was me." Rock said, he too came out from the house and leaned on the porch railing. "I told Leigharch it'd go a long way impressing you and he was on board. Lotton, I just asked him to think about how cool it would be to be a Waist Gunner on a B-24 Liberator and he was sold."

"So all your gun turrets are manned now? There's that, I suppose." Chang still didn't sound convinced of Lagoon's idea. "Do you need anything else for the flight? Gear, fuel…in-flight snacks?" He tried to make a joke to defuse some of the solemn mood but it fell flat.

"Gear an' fuel we got. Frederica an' Mizz Shenhua are makin' everyone some jackets right now, should be ready fer tomorrow." Country said and stood to put on his flak jacket for a test fit. "Tha's tha best we can do within our power. Like Mizz Revy said, we can' jest be sittin' 'round an' waitin' fer E.O. to show up. We've got to show 'em that we're ah proactive force an' one to be reckoned with. Maybe we won' even do any damage to their base in that pile of rock, Ah don' know. But what Ah do know is when Rock lets 8,000 pounds of high explosives off tha chain tomorrow, we're at least gonna put tha Fear of God in 'em."

. . .

"Easy…easy…" Country cautioned as Dutch and Benny raised a 500-lb bomb on its transport cart up into the B-24's bomb bay. It was now Wednesday. During Tuedsay afternoon, Lagoon had decided another strike against Extra Order was needed immediately; especially since Country and Dutch had already purchased the needed materials. The Big Four, especially Chang and Balalaika, were not keen on the idea. The B-24 was a major asset and so were the seven souls to be inside it. Dutch had argued with The Big Four for over an hour if Lagoon should go or not, but then closed the matter by saying the potential payoff outweighed the potential risk. Yes, the B-24 and all of its crew could get blown out of the sky; especially since they had no true idea of E.O.'s anti-aircraft capabilities. But, if the 8,000 pounds of bombs did their job just right, they could bury the entire Extra Order base and force inside under a pile of rock.

"Annn'…hold it." Country stopped Benny and Dutch and attached the shackles to hold the bomb in its place on the rack. Then he attached the wire from the bomb rack to the fuse on the bomb's nose. When the bomb dropped, the wire would pull out the arming pin and the bomb would be live.

"Finally, that's the last one." Benny sighed as he stepped out from under the bomb bay doors. "Why couldn't we just get four 2,000 pounders instead of doing these sixteen 500's?" He asked, skirting around Hansel, Gretel and Revy with a 500 round belt of fifty caliber ammunition. The trio had the link of massive shells draped across their shoulders and were loading it into the ammunition bin for the Tail Turret. "Save us some time and effort you know?"

"Ah'd thought 'bout that but Tha Church didn' have no one-tons in their catalog. Lotsah 500's though an' they put it all on tha house given tha circumstances. So who was Ah to say no?"

"We're good on fuel!" Rock announced from atop the starboard wing and capped the plane's fuel tank.

"Good! C'mon down an' y'all up to tha house. Frederica an' Mizz Shenhua's got some presents fer yah." Everyone walked to the house where Sawyer was waiting with Shenhua and seven green vests on the porch couch.

"Are these flak jackets? Cool." Revy asked and picked one up. "Fuck its heavy, weighs like twenty pounds!"

"It should be heavy. It has…quarter inch…steel plates…sewn into it." Sawyer explained. "There's no…telling what you…might get hit with…and you should…at least have these."

"I sure hope we won't have any trouble." Leigharch said as he picked up a flak jacket and slipped it on. "Sure wouldn't want to test these out for real."

"Still time fer yah to say no." Country offered as he picked up his jacket with his added extra leg plates.

"Nope, promise is a promise." Leigarch said firmly.

"Alright then, let's get on board and get this over with." Dutch said and zipped up his own flak jacket. Shenhua and Sawyer had taken it to repair the rips and holes it had gathered over the years of its use. "Thank you Misses Sawyer and Shenhua for the jackets and fixing mine. I really appreciate it."

"It no trouble." Shenhua dismissed with a wave of her hand. "You just come back not as scattered bits yes?"

"We'll do our best." Lotton assured her as he shrugged off his coat and put on his flak jacket. "What do you think, how do I look?"

"Like doofus." Shenhua said. She stood up and fixed the collar on Lotton's flak jacket, it had folded over on itself as he put it on. "But at least you protected doofus."

"Doofus will have to do then." Lotton said and turned to leave.

"Lotton?"

"Yes Miss Shenhua?"

"Try…try to not get blown up yes?" She asked like she was watching Lotton walk off to his own funeral.

"Well, since you asked, I'll make sure of it." Lotton said with a rare smile on his otherwise composed face.

"Okay, c'mon Romeo and Juliet!" Revy yelled as she headed for the plane. "We've got a base to bomb!" Everyone flying out said their goodbyes to those watching. Chang, Balalaika, Ronnie and Abrego all had shown up to wish the crew luck and watch the B-24 take off. 'You don't get to see something like it every day.' Chang had said. Country put on his flak jacket then gathered Sawyer, Hansel and Gretel in his arms; lifting the trio off the ground in a great hug.

"Ah'll be back soon 'kay?"

"Don't die…alright?"

"And don't do anything stupid!" The Twins added.

"Ah won', promise." Country said, kissing each Twin on the forehead and Sawyer on her lips before putting them down. "Okay then! Let's go bomb that Extra Order base back to tha Stone Age!"

. . .

First, pitot tube covers…off. Inside tha B-24, fuel valves 1, 2, 3, 4…all turned to ON. Rock had topped off our tanks an' tha gauges all read FULL. Dutch secured tha Controls Lockin' Lever into tha FULL DOWN position. Ah sat in mah seat an' looked out tha left window at Hansel on tha runway. Ah moved tha controls an' Hansel confirmed left rudder, left elevator an' left ailerons were free an' good. Ah looked out right to Gretel an' she confirmed tha same on her side. Ah checked tha Ignition Switches an' since they were on OFF, waved Tha Twins forward. They rotated each engine through two cycles by pushin' on tha props to git any pooled oil circulated. Once they'd done that, they used tha wedges by tha hangar door to chock tha wheels.

Next, Ah turned on tha Auxilary Power Unit an' put tha battery switches to ON while Benny turned on tha Generator Switches OFF, by tha bomb bay. Next was tha four Ignition Switches an' tha Master Switch on tha Cop-pilot's side to ON. Benny then turned on tha Auxiliary Hydraulic Unit so we'd have power 'till tha engines got started.

Ah double-checked tha brakes, not that Ah didn' trust Tha Twins, but yah never know. Next was tha A.C. Power fer all tha instruments. Then tha Automatic Flight Control was set to OFF. Ah 'spose in theory it could take us up but didn' feel like finding out. Based on mah best guess, tha Altimeter was already set. Then Ah made sure tha De-Icer controller was set to OFF; why Ah bothered with it in tha tropical heat, Ah don' know. Intercoolers an' Cowl Flaps were open so tha engines wouldn' overheat or blow up on me. Props…high RPM so Ah could git us started in ah timely fashion. Superchargers…OFF so tha engines could exhaust freely an' not blow tha entire exhaust system off when Ah started up. Mix Controls were in tha IDLE CUT-OFF position so tha Booster Pumps could be started. Tha Twins, mah favorite ground crew, had their fire extinguishers ready.

"All clear?!" Ah yelled out tha window.

"All clear!" They yelled back. Next was tha Booster Pumps to force some fuel into tha carburetors. Ah leaned over to reach tha Co-Pilot side, prime tha engine, open Number 3's throttle to 1/3, an' hold tha Number 3 Starter Energizer to ACCEL. 'Bout five bumps of tha Primer Switch outta do it. Then Ah threw on tha Number 3 Meshin' Switch to CRANK with tha Energizer on ACCEL. Engine Number 3 coughed once, twice, chugged thrice an' fired. Once it fired, Ah switched its fuel mix from IDLE CUT-OFF to AUTO-LEAN; checkin' tha RPM to be sure they didn' go over 1,400. Then, with Number 3 runnin' an' providin' power, Ah started over fer Numbers 4, 2 an' 1 from Primin' up to CRANK an' switchin' fuel mixes.

Once Ah'd waved to 'em, Tha Twins pulled out tha chocks an' we rolled outta tha hangar to tha end of tha runway. With tha brakes set again, Ah rolled tha props from Low RPM to High RPM an' left 'em on High with tha engines jest turnin' at 1,000 RPM. Elevator tabs were set to 1-degree an' tail-heavy, Aileron tabs to neutral, Rudders to 1.5-degrees right rudder 'cause tha B-24 has ah nasty habit of pullin' to tha left. Ah double-checked again tha Auto Flight an' De-Icer, both off an' reconfirmed tha flight controls with Tha Twins: two thumbs up.

Fer take-off, fuel mix is set to AUTO-RICH or tha engines'll blow under full power. With tha Booster Pumps OFF, tha fuel pressure was 15-lb's, good. Ah switched on tha Booster Pumps an' checked tha Head temps…120 degrees C, 125, 122, 130 degrees C…good. Ah ran tha engines up to 2,000 RPM one at ah time with only ah 15 RPM drop on tha Magnetos an' tha Superchargers givin' 'bout 36 inches of pressure. Ah slowly turned on tha Superchargers, watchin' tha pressures go to 49 inches, jest fine…jest fine.

While tha engines warmed up, Ah set tha wing's take-off flaps to 20 degrees with tha lever in FULL DOWN. Ah yelled back fer Benny to switch on tha generators since tha engines were warmed up. As he did that, Ah set tha Cowl Flaps to 1/3 OPEN an' made sure tha Landin' Gear Lever was in tha DOWN position. Kick-out pressure on tha Main Hydraulic Gauge was 850 PSI…good.

"Rock, Benny. You two outta tha Nose Wheel Compartment?" Ah asked over tha comms.

"We're clear and both of us are set." Benny answered.

"Alllll righty then. Everyone else ready?"

"Ready." Dutch from tha Top Turret.

"Ready." Revy from Tha Waist, next to Tha Ball.

"Ready." Leigharch in Tha Waist.

"Ready." Lotton in Tha Waist too. Once everyone had given me tha go-ahead, Ah looked over at Tha Big Four, Tha Twins, Frederica an' Shenhua; all 'long tha edge of tha runway. Ah leaned out mah window an' saluted, they all saluted back. Ah dropped mah hand down 'longside tha plane with fingers pointed forward an' they all dropped their salutes. Ah kicked off tha brakes an' brought tha throttles slowly to their stops. Once Ah did that, tha plane started rollin' on its own, lumberin' down tha runway with ah belly full of 8,000 pounds of ordnance. Ah jest pulled back tha slightest on tha controls an' we left tha ground.

Once we were up, Ah kept us level, watched tha airspeed needle crawl to 135mph an' pulled up tha landin' gear. Ah cut down tha Turbos Control Lever to save engines an' fuel. By adjustin' tha props, Ah got tha engines to 2,550 RPM an' then set all flaps back to neutral, 'cept fer that darn Rudder. Since all engines were turnin' good, Ah shut off tha Fuel Booster Pumps. Ah adjusted tha Cowl Flaps so tha engines would stay under 230 degrees C an' put us on cruise with fuel to AUTO-LEAN. Oil pressure 77 pounds, fuel pressure 15 pounds, oil temp 60 degrees C…good, good, good. All was well so far.

"Okay, everyone go ahead an' switch on." Ah ordered. Benny headed aft fer Tha Tail while Lotton an' Leigharch got Revy situated in Tha Ball. Rock clambered into Tha Nose an' Ah could see his turret start to spin when he switched on an' tested his controls. "Turret an' gun checks! Nose?" Rock fired ah test burst, TH-THUMP! TH-THUMP! an' rotated his turret an' guns.

"All set." Dutch, Revy an' Benny were all set too as they tested their guns an' turrets.

"Leigharch, Lotton? You two set in Tha Waist?"

"Set as we'll ever be." Leigharch said. "How I let you lot talk me into this, I'll never understand."

"W'all, if yer havin' secon' thoughts, too late to back out now. It's only gonna take us twenty minutes to git there so jest sit tight. Hopefully they won' have any surprises waitin' fer us. Rock, git set on tha bombsight, Ah'll walk yah through it 'gain if yah want."

"Okay, I'm set. Go ahead."

"Alright, first yer gonna…"

. . .

At the Extra Order facility, covered overhead by two hundred feet of rock, the day was proceeding as normally as possible. The power was still down and only some of the lights, plumbing, ventilation and main doors worked. Power had been rerouted to the overhead gantry crane but the majority of systems were still down. The main doors to the south were used for ships coming and going and hiding them inside the island while they were loaded. The other main door was to the north of the island. The ship's entrance was in a tall spire of rock formed the base's roof. It tapered down into a quarter-mile long, flat plain. It was too short for them to land on, but perfect for cargo plane crews to fly low over and shove their payloads of supplies and vehicles out the back door via parachute assisted drops.

One of the smaller ships had been tasked with acting as a radar post since no power went to the base's main system. Its range was limited to only twenty five miles but still picked up the Roanapur Raider just the same.

"Sir, I have an inbound aircraft from the southwest, coming in at 15,000 feet." The radar tech said as he nervously watched the approaching blip on his screen. "It's at twenty five miles and closing fast."

"Probably someone out for a joy ride." The ship's captain looked at the screen, then walked over to the radio and tuned it to the general channel. "Attention unidentified aircraft. You are entering restricted airspace, deviate your course immediately." The blip was now twenty miles out and didn't turn. The captain tried twice more but heard no response. "I'm calling this in."

. . .

"An unidentified craft at 15,000?" Major Dylan asked. "No deviation of course? Sir…" He looked at The Benefactor and the other directors behind him. "I think it might be the same plane that the Rascals were hit with."

"Then there's only one thing to do." The Benefactor cracked a leering, crooked-tooth grin. "Shoot it down! I don't want a single piece of its ordnance hitting this base!"

"Our missile systems are down and the second best option we were saving for the invasion."

"Why do you think we hung onto those old Jap Type 99's?! Just blow it out of the sky old-school style!"The Benefactor cackled and Major Dylan ordered the surprised anti-aircraft crews to man the sub base's fifty year old, 88mm defenses.

. . .

"You know…" Revy said as she lazily rotated her turret, Ah could jest hear tha motor whirrin' over tha intercom. "I'm disappointed."

"Why's that Mizz Revy?"

"We're at target in sight…and not one sign of resistance." She sighed.

"Oi, don' be sayin' shit like that." Leigharch chided. "Jinx us you will."

"Oh shaddap, you superstitious…" BOOOmmmm…. Ah black cloud 'bout five foot 'cross burst into bein' 'bout three hundred yards forward an' jest low. "What the actual fuck was that?!" Revy yelled as another cloud, then three more appeared; each louder an' closer than tha last.

"Ah'm not sure…Ah think…" B-BWOOOM! One of tha black clouds appeared then burst off tha starboard wing an' tha force of it shoved tha 65,000 pound airplane ah good foot sideways. Then another black cloud burst in front of us an' tha right wing went right through it. Tha resultin' screechin', bangin' an' rattlin' was like listenin' to nails draggin' down ah chalkboard an' rocks bein' shaken in ah tin can at tha same time. Ah looked at tha wing to see missin' paint, ah series of small holes, dings an' fist-sized dents in tha metal. Tha clouds kept on comin'.

"W'all screw me sideways. That's flak Mizz Revy."

"That's bad right?!" Leigharch seemed to be ah tad concerned in Tha Waist.

"Why do yah think Ah had Frederica an' Shenhua make y'all flak jackets?"

"Right. So, what do we do?"

"Fly through it." BWAH-BANG! "An' hope they're bad shots." Ah said, tryin' to sound calmer than Ah felt. We'd been shot at before but this was totally different. Ah couldn' be sure of tha gun size, but it was 'nough to make me scared. There had to be 'least ten of 'em an' all were firin' at US. If Ah had ah flight of Liberators, with four in line behind me, may not've been so bad, would've divided their fire. But tha flak jest kept comin', rattlin' as tha shards bounced an' ripped their way off tha plane. Tha bursts were gittin' closer, mostly in front of us so we'd haftah fly through it. Each new burst an' cloud bounced an' jostled tha plane, shakin' it from Nose to Tail. Some far off ones'd jest quietly Booommm… an' fade out. Tha closer ones'd kick us 'round up an' down with ah thunderin' series of Booms! Bangs! Crump! Bw-WHAM! an' each loud 'nough to feel like it was gonna bust mah ears. But there was no way we was gonna back down now, jest 'cause of some damn flak!

"Dutch, drop down an' hit tha release lever fer tha bomb bay doors." Dutch swung down from his turret an' Ah could hear tha clunk of tha lever bein' released.

"We're good Country."

"Rog'. Rock, ready? Ah'm openin' tha bomb bay."

"I'm ready, go ahead." Ah pushed tha open button an' tha doors whirred open.

"Lotton, confirm doors are open an' tha bomb bay is clear."

"Doors are open and bay is clear."

"Rock, transferrin' control to you." Ah turned tha control switch to BOMBARDIER an' tha plane twitched then settled as Rock's computer took over. "Alright, yer airplane."

"Roger that, I have the airplane."

"Make 'em fuckin' holler Rocky!" Revy yelled over tha comms from Tha Ball.

. . .

Rock lay on his stomach and made the necessary final adjustments to the bombsight. The island below slowly came into view and he lined up the crosshairs. They were going to make two passes; one push of the release was set to release eight of their sixteen bombs in two seconds. The flak was making his task a difficult one, jostling the plane and some of the clouds of razor-sharp death flashed across his vision. Each burst in front of him made him flinch. He took a deep breath to settle his rattled nerves and ignore the wall of black clouds with their smoky, spectral fingers barreling towards them. Once the crosshairs touched the tip of the island, the tall spire where unbeknownst to Rock, was the main bulk of the facility, Rock punched the release.

. . .

Eight 500-lb General Purpose High Explosive bombs tumbled from their racks in two seconds. As they fell clear, their shackles rattled with a CLING! CLING! CLING! when they released. The air whistled in an ominous howl through the bomb's guide fins as they hurtled to Earth, hitting thirty seconds later. The first bomb fell just short of the island, knocked off course from a flak burst. But it was spot on in hitting the boat acting as the base's radar and the little sixty foot vessel disintegrated in the explosion.

The other seven bombs fell right on target, shaking the base to its deepest levels, knocking dust from the ceiling and several deep cracks appeared in floors and ceilings. Further up, the concussion waves knocked soldiers over and crates full of equipment fell from their stacks and shattered on the floor.

"Good God!" The Balkans director cried as he dove under the conference table. "They're bombing us!"

"Major, send up the 260's." The Benefactor ordered.

"But those are supposed to be our cover for the invasion!" The North South American director protested. "They're our secret weapon, we can't risk them!"

"If we don't do something about that bomber, there won't be an invasion!" Major Dylan shot back. "Uh…you! Private, uh, Russel? Private Russel! Get to the north doors and tell the pilots to take off immediately!" Private Russel nodded and sprinted through a facility thrown into chaos. He reached the north door bay where five pilots were anxiously waiting, already dressed in their flight gear.

"Do we have go-ahead?" Their leader asked with an Italian accent. "We shoot it ah down yes?"

"Yes, what're you waiting for?!" Private Russel panted. The pilots ran for their planes and started up as the bay door was pulled open. They taxied onto their makeshift runway and climbed into the air to pursue the small, dull green dot above.

. . .

"Hey Bumpkin…" Revy said uneasily. "I take it back…about the resistance."

"Why's that?" Country asked as he tried to climb out of the flak brackets.

"We have company at our seven o'clock low and closing, five of 'em."

"Huh…yah don' say? What do they look like?"

"Uhhh…low single wing, big pod on each wingtip…two smaller pods with one under each wing…single engine, single seater…"

"Do they have retracted gear, ah tall, squared off rudder an' ah bubble-ish shaped canopy?" Country interrupted.

"Yeah, now that you mention it…" Revy noticed as the flight of five drew level and observed them just below the B-24 and out of accurate range.

"Tha's not what Ah wanted to hear."

"What's going on back there? What are they?" Rock couldn't see the planes behind them and scooted out from the bombsight.

"Rock, if yer not in yer turret, git in it now." Country ordered and Rock scrambled to comply. "Ah'll bet tha airfield those are Italian Aermacchi SF. 260's an' if we don' take care of 'em in ah timely fashion, they're gonna use their 0.30 cal gun pods to rip this plane apart."

"Looks like they're getting ready to do just that." Benny said as the 'V' of fighters split with two going left, two going right and their leader in the middle.

"Hold up, don' shoot yet." Country ordered as the five 260's held a mere two hundred yards out, surveying the B-24 and the numerous holes pummeled into it from flak shards.

"Don't shoot?!" Dutch asked, wondering if Country had taken some flak to the head.

"They ain' shootin' yet is they? Jest hold an' git ah good bead on yer target. Benny, take tha one right in front of yah. Lotton, Leigharch, pick one on yer side. Dutch, take one of tha pair to port. Rock, Revy, jest wait an' open up when yah git ah chance. Ready?..." For a second the entire crew was silent, aiming their guns carefully at the encroaching fighters; the flak dropped off to avoid hitting friendly targets and the only sound was the humming of the engines…and then:

"FIRE!"

. . .

"So Capitano, we finally go against real aircraft eh?" One pilot asked The Captain. "A change of pace from hunting jeeps across the desert and strafing towns."

"Indeed it is." The Captain agreed. "Break into Formation B, but hold fire. I want to survey our first real challenge." The five planes split off and held the new formation, ready for orders. The Captain recognized the B-24 from a history book immediately and knew they might have to tread carefully if its ten machine guns were manned. As he pulled level with the bomber's tail, he could just make out the figure of a blonde man in the Tail Turret.

'Hmmm…perhaps the meal will put up a struggle before we devour it…lovely.' He smiled and grasped the lever to arm his gun pods. "Tally-ho and good luck to you bomber…you'll need it." Then the twin guns in the Tail Turret opened fire. The Captain reacted in time to avoid his engine being hit and rolled out of the line of fire. But he did feel a burst of fifty caliber rounds slam into his starboard wing and the gun pod on that side was shot away.

As he rolled out and banked left, he could see two of his men had not been so lucky. One of the Waist Gunners hit a 260 right away in the engine and flames consumed the craft as it dropped away. The other Waist Gunner tracked another plane as it climbed up and away. The line of tracers curved in a long arch that quickly chewed the 260 in half. Its tail fell first while the nose pitched straight down and spiraled into a non-recoverable, blackout inducing spin. There were no parachutes.

One remaining fighter dove and positioned itself ahead of the bomber. It looped back around and climbed back up while firing its gun pods. The Nose Gunner tried to track track him but the tracers arched short. Rounds from the 260 slammed into the bomber's right wing and smoke began to trail from its inboard engine.

"Excellent hit Niccolo!" The Captain congratulated as the bomber's engine began wafting even thicker clouds of smoke. "You really damaged him!"

"Grazie! I got AUUGGGHH!..Fssshhh…" As Niccolo passed under and away from the bomber, the Tail Gunner fired and hit his plane in the fuel tanks. His plane smoked, flamed out then exploded in a sun-like burst of burning fuel. As the 260 disintegrated, The Captain could see what appeared to be a charred body tumble lifelessly Earthward.

"Geri!" The Captain called his remaining wingman. "You shall go low and I shall attack from above! We must split their fire!"

"Si Capitano!" Geri acknowledged and dove to pull back up and rake the belly of the bomber with a long burst. He missed hitting the bomb bay and was hit in the wing by the Ball Gunner. The turret swung quickly, the gunner firing on Geri at almost point-blank range. His plane wobbled, barely under control as it passed in front of the bomber. Then the Nose Gunner fired a short burst. The line of tracers sheared off Geri's wing and his plane spun into a dizzying circle of circles towards the ocean. As The Captain completed his run, he watched Geri's plane and prayed for a parachute. One did not appear.

Distraught over the loss of his countrymen, The Captain aimed his 260 like a missile and resolved to ram the bomber. He slammed his throttle forward and dove in from on high with the sun at his back. His target was the joint where the bomber's wings joined together at the fuselage; it he hit just right the bomber would break in half. The Waist and Tail Gunners were unable to fire on him, blinded by the sun's rays. But The Captain could never have known that the Top Turret Gunner wore sunglasses.

Two lines of tracers arched towards him, taking his plane apart. It didn't matter, he was still on course, still on target. The instrument panel exploded in shards of plastic and smell of ozone but he didn't need them anymore, not when he was so close. He was almost there…three hundred…so close…two hundred…vengeance shalt be mine…one hundred. Then the line of tracers shifted slightly. A blazing hot, magnesium tipped tracer at 1,000 degrees fahrenheit, smashed through his canopy at 2,000 feet per second, just level with his chin. Then The Captain knew nothing of his countrymen anymore.

. . .

Ah heard Dutch firin', tha last plane must've been divin' outta tha sun. Then Dutch's firin' stopped. Tha last plane jerked hard left an' leveled out, slowly cruisin' past mah window. It was perfectly level with me an' Ah could see tha entire canopy was coated with ah bright smear of blood.

"Uh…hey Dutch…" Ah said as more blood spurted 'gainst tha glass an' tha plane wobbled. "Looks like yah got 'em."

"Yep." Was tha response an' tha fighter wobbled again then dropped away in an inward, rollin' dive. Ah watched it 'long as Ah could an' wasn' surprised to not see ah parachute. As tha 260 disappeared, tha flak started up 'gain an' Ah made tha turn to bring us back 'round on target.

"Really good shootin' everyone, real good." Ah congratulated tha slightly shell-shocked crew behind an' 'low me. Ah was jest as rattled but couldn' let it show, Ah was flyin' after all. "Y'all okay?" Six 'I'm A-Okay's' came back over tha comms so that was tha good. Tha bad was Engine Number 2, our starboard inboard. It'd been hit by ah strafin' run an' had jest plain quit on me. That 'n' it was leakin' somethin' awful important lookin' awful fast. Ah shut down its Booster Pump, Supercharger, closed its Cowl Flaps an' dropped its throttle down to zero. Last was tha fuel mix to OFF, hopefully avoidin' it blowin' up or catchin' fire. It was still leakin' somethin', prob'bly oil an' was somehow smokin' worse now. No time to worry 'bout it though, more important things at hand.

"Hey Rock, yah still alive down there?"

"I'm here, by the skin of my teeth, but here."

"Okay then, git back on tha bombsight an' reset it. We're up at 20,000 now, Ah'm gonna see if tha' don' git us outta this damn flak some." It was comin' in even worse now, tha bursts were at farthest ah hundred yards out. Each one felt like somethin' was kickin' tha plane, rockin' us left, right, up 'n' down, sideways an' every combination of tha above every few seconds. It was pure hell jest keepin' us in ah fairly straight line an' level; tha flak made me fight tha plane tha entire way.

"We're almost on target!" Rock updated me. "Transfer control!"

"Roger, transferrin'…okay, yer airplane." Ah flipped tha switch an' relaxed mah grip on tha controls.

"Understood, my airplane." He said an' set 'bout gittin' us lined up. Fer ah few secon's it was calm then there was ah tremendous CRUMP-RREEAASSSH! an' tha entire plane went 'bout ten foot sideways to tha right. Ah leaned out mah window to look back an' see ah three foot hole in tha fuselage, jest aft of Leigharch's gun port. Ah called tha flak gunners every name under tha sun an' then some before rememberin' to ask if Leigharch was okay.

"Hey, y'all alive back there? Yah up?"

"Oh bloody, fockin', bugger-me-sideways HELL." Leigharch groaned over tha intercom. Alive at least.

"Are yah up, good to shoot?"

"I'm fucked up, but I'm up." He breathed, soundin' like he'd gotten tha wind knocked outta him. "You lot outta see the splinter in me jacket, it's fockin' huge. Oi Benny, Lotton, wanna have a look?" Alive, well an' his sense of humor intact too. Luck of The Irish indeed.

"How we doin' Rock?"

"Almost there…"

"W'all hurry 'long now, we're down one…" CR-UMP!...BANG! Engine Number 1 ate ah flak burst in one bite, flamed out an' died. "Down two engines." Ah informed him as Ah shut down Number 1.

"I'm aware…almost…almost…bombs away!" He cried an' we lurched upwards after droppin' our last 4,000 pounds. "Control is back to you Country!"

"Rog', mah plane! Let's git tha hell outta here!" Ah pushed Engines 3 an' 4 as fast as Ah dared an' dove outta tha flak. Ah leveled us off 'round ah hundred feet off tha water an' damn near 300 mile an' hour. With tha last two engines howlin' Ah raced us home, hopin' that'd we done more that day than jest piss E.O. off. W'all, we did knock down five fighters, sure's hell rattled 'em an' we were all alive. So it wadn' too bad of ah day.

. . .

The last eight bombs were the most effective. Chunks of rock broke away from the ceiling and rained down on the soldiers below. The overhead crane system, just repaired, buckled, twisted then broke free from its mounting and crashed into the shipyard below. A chunk of ceiling weighing 100 tons cracked loose and fell onto a waiting T-55, crushing it flatter than a Kansas highway. In the dock slips, a transport ship had its deck door open and another 100 ton boulder fell through it. The massive rock crushed the crates of 75mm howitzers beneath it before smashing through the ship's hull and ripping open a thirty foot hole in the steel. The ship's hold filled with water in seconds and the ship sank, settling into its slip where it became a one hundred foot long obstacle. The first bomb had smashed into the archway above the north doors and had jammed them shut; denying Extra Order use of their improvised landing strip and cargo drop-off.

The Benefactor, Major Dylan, The Advisor and the rest of the directors crawled out from under the conference table to see it had saved their lives. Several basketball sized stones shaken loose from the ceiling were scattered across the oaken surface.

"Is everyone alright?" Major Dylan asked and everyone gave an all-clear. A runner from the flak batteries arrived to inform them the plane had been damaged but not shot down. He also said there was no sign of the fighters and there was only static on the radio.

"So we've lost our main air support?" The North South America director asked quietly. "Doesn't Lagoon have another plane too, a Corsair or something?"

"Look, it's not a big deal." The Benefactor dismissed and dusted himself off. "We'll just cross that bridge when we come to it."

"But sir! A Corsair could rip our Hinds apart!" The North South America director cried, throwing his hands out in exasperation. "And Christ knows what it could do to our armor and especially our ships! We've effectively lost because of you!" He accused, pointing a shaking finger at The Benefactor's back. "If you hadn't wasted our most precious hardware, we wouldn't be in this mess! But oh no! You always just have to do things your wayOH FUCK!" Ba-WHOOM!

The Benefactor had turned to his left, pivoting on his cane and in one smooth, fluid motion, drawn his Ruger Super Redhawk, thumbed back the hammer, aimed the five inch, custom nickle-plated barrel and implanted a 0.44 magnum bullet into the North South America director's gut. The impact of the round at six feet bowled the man over and smashed him into the floor with an explosion of sound from the shot and blood from his stomach and back as the bullet exited.

"There's this one thing you do that just annoys me to no end…your breathing." The Benefactor walked slowly over to the gasping body before him, hoisting itself onto one knee. "But you are right in one respect. I do everything my way. That's because, I…am…the…boss…and you are not. That means what I say goes, it's not your place to question me or there will be consequences. Do I make myself abundantly clear?" The North South American director slowly nodded and burped a blob of blood and matter onto the floor with a wet, squelchy splat. "Good. At least you were able to learn something with that stupid brain of yours…which gives me an idea…" Cl-Click. Ba-WHOOM! The bullet tunneled through and burst out the man's skull and his body slumped backwards to the floor in a crumpled heap.

"Now!" The Benefactor barked as smoke wafted from his pistol's barrel to hang around him like an aura. "There are a few lessons to be learned here today. I will not tolerate an organization staffed, peopled or directed by anyone who pisses themselves in fear and cries like a child at the first sign of trouble! Such weakness in this organization is a cancer and will…be…removed, like the cancer it is! Next, we have suffered a series of setbacks yes, but did I not warn you these are clever and dangerous enemies we face? This was to be expected, as a test of our mettle and will. And he!" The Benefactor gestured with his pistol at the body leaking all over the floor. "Failed his test, miserably! The other lesson is Improvise, Adapt and Overcome; do not give into hysterics. We will improvise the loss of personnel and equipment, adapt our strategy and with some fucking balls on your parts, overcome! Now, do I have to explain myself again or am I being clear to everyone?!"

"Crystal, sir." The Eastern Europe director said.

"Excellent. Now we get back to work! We still have a time-table to keep, there's much to do, and we have a city that isn't going to burn itself!"

. . .

"So…how'd it go?" Chang asked as Lagoon, Lotton and Leigharch disembarked from the Roanapur Raider. Its starboard engines were still smoldering, the heated metal plinking as it cooled and was too hot to touch despite being thoroughly doused by The Twins' fire extinguishers. It listed slightly to port, the landing gear wheel on that side was flat, punctured by a burst from a 260 gun pod.

"We made it back." Rock said by pushing the words out his mouth. He took off his flak jacket, dropped it and sat down right on the runway; drained of adrenaline. "I'll call that a success."

"What happened out there?" Abrego asked and surveyed the plane. "Your plane and you all look a little, rough."

"Flak's what happened." Dutch said and took off his flak jacket too. "And E.O. had some fighter support we didn't count on."

"Wait, fighters? That's troubling." Balalaika said while she ran a hand along the underside of the B-24's wing. She was counting bullet holes. "Are they something we should be worried about?"

"I did say they had fighters. Five of 'em came up and five of 'em went down."

"They worked us over quite well though." Lotton said, blinking in the fading light. He had lost his sunglasses during the course of the flight and shaded his sharp, grey eyes from the sun. "I reached 400 before Country told me to stop."

"Speaking of Bumpkin…where is he?" Revy asked, looking around the runway.

"In here. Jest checkin' tha damage." Country's face appeared in a three foot long, two foot wide gash along the plane's starboard cheek, just aft of the Nose. "Ah tell y'all what, Ah'm not even mad." He climbed out through the Nose landing gear and admired the damage to his plane. The Twins and Sawyer walked over to and hugged him; a smile broke across his face as they did. He turned around and looked at Rock. "An' Rock, didja see how close that hole was to yer hind end?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah." Rock looked down at his right pant leg, hanging from his belt line in tatters. "I didn't even notice that until we landed. But, you're not mad? They shot the plane up pretty bad."

"W'all yeah, 'course." Country smiled, mussing The Twins hair and turning back to his plane while he spoke. "But it ain' nothin' we can' fix. Ah mean, Mizz Balalaika's idea of usin' it as ah flyin' gun platform's sure shot as tha engines. But." He took off his hat and ran his fingers through his curly fluff of hair several times, sighing deeply with each pass. "Ah think we did what we set out to do, puttin' tha fear of God into 'em."

"We did get them to tip their hand by sending up those fighters." Dutch agreed. "And even if the bombs didn't damage their facility, which I'm sure they did, we at least showed them we know exactly where they're at and are capable of hitting them." He paused to run his hand along the starboard wing's leading edge, fingers skimming along the ragged surface until he reached the outboard engine and its four flak-chewed props. "And in warfare, psychology is just as important as tanks, bullets or planes. We had a saying in the Marines: Improvise, Adapt and Overcome. We've lost the Roanapur Raider but not the fight. Country's right, we did scare them, badly enough to send up their own air force to bring us down and now they've lost their Ace in the Hole. So now, with today's events in mind, we'll improvise and adapt our strategy and we will overcome."

"Oo-fuckin'-rah Boss!" Revy yelled, grabbing Rock around his shoulders and pumping her fist into the air. "So what's next?"

"First, let's get this plane off the runway and into its hangar." Dutch ordered and Country ran off for the hangars with The Twins in tow, waving for the rest of Lagoon to follow him. "Second…" He addressed the Big Four before him. "We need everyone to start bringing men and equipment forward and also start setting up our defenses."

"And where do we set up?" Ronnie asked, still gaping in awe at the B-24. He couldn't believe it had managed to return, damaged as it was. "Abrego, Chang and I don't know shit about tactics or whatever."

"Oh don't worry about that Ronnie, I may have been in situations like this once or twice before; so has Miss Balalaika." Dutch picked up his flak jacket and started to smile. "She and I have lots of ideas."

. . .

I have thought about Extra Order A LOT over the course of writing this tale. I get the feeling they're like the school yard bully that's the biggest and baddest because he has no competition. They think they're really elite soldiers because they're used to winning; picking on the kids that can't fight back effectively. They always claim to want a 'real fight' with someone on their level but I don't think they quite grasp what that would actually entail; especially going up against all of Roanapur. Things are really going to come to a head soon here and I hope you all are as excited as I am! If you have suggestions, comments, questions, concerns, think I did awesome or should smash my fingers with a hammer, let me know in the Review box below and thanks again!