(AN: So I went to sleep after luncheon and ended up sleeping all day, waking up at midnight. Couldn't get back to sleep so I decided to finish up another chapter. Here we get to find out what Bravo Six has been up to since they arrived in Helkeginia a week ago...Enjoy!)
Bowles was back in Dubai. He was flying Bravo Six with Tebby on shotgun and Joe the taciturn sniper as his door gunner. They were flying low between the ruined skyscrapers in downtown sand-swept Dubai, hunting for the hijacked Blackhawk chopper piloted by Walker and his team.
There was the chopper, in a controlled hover over the Radioman' tower, its side door minigun blazing away. Bowles shook his head. He had no idea why anyone would be petty enough to kill the Radioman, but this wanton destruction was insane.
"Eyes on Tango! Ten o'clock!" Tebby screamed into his mic.
Bowles toggled the firing stud on his joystick.
"Arming Hellfire rocket pod, weapons hot."
The targeting screen in the cockpit showed the Blackhawk as white on a dark green screen. The reticle pulsated with a persistent beep.
"We have a target lock, Fox Two away!"
The missile streaked over to the Blackhawk, only to have Walker shoot it out of the sky.
Bowles stared at the incongruous sight, and found himself shaking his head, and heard himself talking.
"Wait, wait this isn't right!"
He saw the Blackhawk come about, and saw Walker directing his fire at them. Instinctively he jerked the joystick in the opposite direction to veer the chopper away from the line of fire.
"Too late now, Bowles they're on to us!" Tebby screamed into his mic.
Even as he maneuvered, he could still hear himself babbling.
"Nah…I mean…we did this already!"
"What the fuck do you mean?" This time it was Joe's voice.
He shook his head.
"Ah, fuck it, it's nothing. Let just shake this guy already!"
Weaving in and out of the high-rises, he tried to dodge the incoming fire. When he looked back, he saw it wasn't one Blackhawk but three Blackhawks, each being piloted by one of Delta Team. Joe's panicked voice came in on the headset.
"Can't this thing go any fucking faster?! C'mon El-tee, punch it!"
"I am! Hold on!" Bowles yelled into his mic.
Then sand began filling his windscreen.
"Shit!" Tebby yelled. "Is that what I think it is?"
"Yep! Sandstorm! Closing fast!"
"So Get us out of here!"
"Not with those guys on our ass, we can't!"
Bowles then said the unthinkable.
"I'm taking us in."
"Into the storm, are you nuts?!" It was Joe's voice and his verged on hysterics.
"Guess we'll find out." Bowles said with an air of finality.
80 mph winds and sand buffeted the small craft, but sure enough, all three of the Blackhawks broke off pursuit.
"Hold on!" Bowles said as he fought for control of the chopper.
They rounded a corner of a building, barely missing the derelict construction crane, and it was then that Bowles' heart froze. A large red dragon perched between the Acico Office Tower and the ruined Nikko Hotel Dubai. It roared at them, and surged forward, breathing fire.
"Shit! Get us the fuck out of here!"
Bowles didn't even know who said it, but a sudden gust threw the Little Bird off balance. The craft veered hard and crashed into the side of a building, sending a cloud of broken glass and debris into the sandstorm. Bowles was vaguely aware that Tebby and Joe fell to their deaths, and he was alive, barely and pinned upside down in the cockpit. He couldn't get out, he felt fire licking the crashed craft, he felt the fire burning through his clothes and boots. He screamed, and sat up drenched in sweat.
"Are you alright?"
When his eyes focused, it was on a pretty girl with dark brown hair tied up in a kerchief. Her wide aquamarine eyes were filled with concern. Bowles shook his head.
"It's okay, Jessica. It was just a nightmare."
She didn't seem placated by his dismissive response.
"It must have been terrible; Scarron could hear you screaming downstairs."
She placed a cool hand on his forehead.
"Are you feeling ill? I can get you some broth with a tincture if that will help."
"Don't worry, sweetie."
He flashed his best smile, the one that his roommate in ROTC called the 'Radioactive Dental Leg-Spreader.'
"I'm fine, really it's nothing, sweetie."
She blushed at his smile. Works every time.
"Okay, if you're alright you know best."
He sat up and swung his feet to the rough wooden floor.
"Is it shift time yet?"
She nodded once.
"Um-hm, although no rush, your other friends haven't started yet."
"Where's Joe?"
She giggled.
"Where he usually is, moping by the bar with Marlène and Jeanne taking turns flirting with him."
He smiled at the thought. Ever since the taciturn sniper removed his ghillie suit and scarf the two younger bar maids were smitten by him. He pulled on his boots.
"Where's Tebby?"
She nodded towards the window.
"Out by the stables working on your airship."
Bowles grinned to himself. Ever since they ran across the Charming Fairies Inn and chased off some bandits that were trying to rob the place, the owner Scarron had allowed the three man team to park their Little Bird by the stable behind his tavern. He called it an airship too. Of course this Scarron dressed in drag in an outfit that would have shamed Priscilla Queen of the Desert, and wanted the guys to call him mademoiselle, so the wacky drag queen calling their Little Bird an airship was not the first shock of the day.
Bowles shook the thoughts from his head as he left the small room that was his quarters and made his way down the stairs to the tavern. The place was still pretty empty, with only a couple of paying customers. Joe was at his usual spot with the two maids cozying up to him. As he crossed the room he waved over to Joe, who just gave a curt nod before going back to his beer. The lieutenant shook his head again. At some point that kid is going to have to let go and enjoy his new life.
Outside he found Tebby inside the Little Bird, going through a checklist.
"What's the good word, corporal?"
Tebby looked up.
"Well, we still have full pods for our rockets, full ammo on the starboard minigun pod and roughly 1,500 rounds on the port minigun pod."
Bowles whistled.
"Damn, I thought we only fired a few warning shots at those bandits."
The corporal grinned.
"With respect, sir, you rocknrolled for almost half a minute with the minigun."
"Point taken, soldier. What about fuel?"
"We're down to a half a tank of fuel, which means we only have about 200 klicks to go before we're dry."
The lieutenant nodded.
"So it means until that wizard dude comes forward with that replenishing spell, we'll going to have to stay put. No point in wasting fuel flying around in circles chasing that IFF signal. Speaking of which, have you broadcasted yet? It's almost shift time."
Tebby shook his head.
"Sir, we've been broadcasting the same message for almost a week, and haven't heard a peep. Hell, last night I couldn't even find the IFF signal, it's like it moved out of range."
"Corporal, if there is even a hint of a chance that there's another person like us stuck in this world I want to know who it is and how we can reach them, and if possible, link up."
The corporal sighed but saluted.
"Roger that, sir."
He set down his clipboard and powered up the main battery, switching on the radio. He pulled his headset on and spoke into the mic.
"To the US military IFF transponder Romeo Foxtrot ID Eight Six Seven Fife dash Tree Zero Niner, this callsign Bravo Six transmitting in the blind, we are a three man chalk US Army 33rd Battalion marooned in a place called Tristain with francophone speaking natives, if you read please switch to channel twelve and respond, we will have ears on until 2300."
He paused for a minute to listen to nothing but static, the repeated the message three more times and switched the radio off. He finished an inventory of their personal weapons and ammo, and then secured them in a locked metal strongbox bolted to the floor of the chopper. He paused for a moment to look over the Little Bird before he left.
Between its battered airframe with its improvised hillbilly armor and faded black and red paintjob, and the 'Damned 33rd' logo on the side, to call it beautiful was a stretch. But he still liked it.
Inside he saw Bowles at the bar sipping a tankard of ale. He caught the eye of one of the barmaids to order his own beer, and sidled up to his commanding officer.
"Sit rep, Tebby?"
"No response from the radio broadcast, no small surprise there. Also did inventory on personal weapons. We've got six rounds for Joe's M-99, three mags for our M9 handguns, two for your UMP-45, and eight shells for the W1300 shotgun."
Bowles nodded.
"Well, it's not enough to start a war, but not shabby."
He looked over to the corporal, who had a quizzical look on his face.
"Relax, Tebby, I'm kidding. Besides, once that mage comes through for us we won't have to worry about fuel or ammo. Then we can get the lay of the land in this new world, and triangulate that IFF signal, and hopefully regroup with whoever else ended up in this weird world."
Tebby grabbed his tankard.
"I'll drink to that!"
"Excuse me gentlemen!"
Bowles turned and saw the tavern's flamboyant proprietor.
"It's time, gentlemen." Scarron said with a wink.
The lieutenant turned back towards the tavern and saw that it had indeed filled up with partrons. He nodded.
"Alright, Scarron. We're on."
He turned to Tebby.
"I think you should do the honors, corporal."
"What do you want to start with, sir."
Bowles grinned. Tebby rolled his eyes.
"Oh come on sir, not that song."
"Yes, corporal, that song. C'mon it's a crowd pleaser."
Tebby rolled his eyes.
"Fine, sir, but you're joining me this time."
He made eye contact with Jessica, who smiled and pulled out a battered pink CD boom box from behind the bar, and handed it to Bowles. He flipped through a sand-encrusted CD wallet and pulled a CD out of it and fed it into the slot.
Suddenly every timber in the tavern reverberated with the sound electro hillybilly music.
'If it hadn't been for Cotton-Eye Joe
I'd been married long time ago
Where did you come from where did you go
Where did you come from Cotton-Eye Joe'
The entire room erupted with applause and raucous cheers as Tebby and Bowles jumped onto a table near the middle of the tavern. The two soldiers started stomping to the beat, clapping their hands as their boots caused tankards and plates to fly off the table. Patrons and barmaids started contra dancing to the beat. As Bowles switched places on the table with Tebby, he noticed the chestnut-haired barmaid named Jeanne pulling Joe onto the improvised dance floor. He grinned. Maybe that kid will have some fun tonight.
Scarron watched with one of his friends.
"Your new entertainment is quite lively, where did you get them?"
Scarron glanced over at the one called Bowles, who was doing some sort of Germanian kick dance on the table.
"I'm not sure where they are from, my friend. They're not from Tristain, or Albion, or Germania. I know they are soldiers or mercenaries, but they are different from soldiers or chevaliers that I know. I hired them because they rescued my tavern from highwaymen. And as it turns out, they're quite the draw in entertainment!"
Tebby had to admit it. The Appalachian-born corporal might claim to hate the music, but he was enjoying himself. He saw Joe dancing with one of the barmaids with something that looked like a smile on his face, and looked over to see his CO doing an improvised Cossack dance on the other end of the table, kicking a pitcher of wine onto the floor in the process. He admited it to himself, he was having fun. He could get used to this gig.
(AN: I would like to thank a fellow author Cain O'Phelan for lending permission to do a shout out from one of his stories. And if you're a MASS Effect/Halo fan, check it out; it's called The Devil's Own. And if you're not a fan of ME or HALO, read it anyways, it's that good.
Hope you enjoyed this chapter, thanks for all those who PM'ed and fav/followed/commented the last chapter. Next chapter we're shifting back to Albion, I will say that the clock is ticking down from the time when Bravo Six will be reunited with Crosby and co, so stay tuned! And if there's something you like or don't like, as always LMK)