Chapter Quote:
"If you can't fly, then run. If you can't run, then walk. If you can't walk, then crawl, but whatever you do, you have to keep moving forward."
~Martin Luther King, Jr.

Chapter 24: Deliberation: Part 4

Genette

When the documentary returned, the camera panned over pictures of Rainer Altman and his past- his friends, his comrades, and his family. Meanwhile, he said, "I bailed out and landed here. The captain was gone. I've lived a comfortable life since then… and I probably have him to thank for that."

The camera turned its attention on him, and Brett remarked, "They're ringing the bells. It's a beautiful sound."

Altman stared out at the church in the far distance. "They ring the bells here at dusk to honor the liberation of the capital. It signals peace, but to me, they are the sounds of death."

"Why do you stay then?"

"My wife's life is here. I would never make her up and leave over something that she has no control over. I'm not going to force one person to change their entire life because of my past mistakes." Altman's lips turned upward, ever so slightly. "I'll have to thank the Demon Lord, one day. As much as I hate hearing those bells and what they remind me of, he also gave me my wife and a fresh start in life. He was a blessing in disguise."

The scene switched to the abandoned warehouse that Dominic Zubov resided in. The criminal leaned in towards the camera, face scrunched up as he asked, "Is the man still alive?"

"Yes," Brett said. "Or do you think he's dead?"

Zubov scratched his chin thoughtfully, muttering to himself before voicing, "Though I guess it's hard for bad guys like us to die. The real heroes always manage to die first. But guys like him, Solo Wing, and me, we live the rest of our lives in hell. But, then again, being alive is proof that we were good."

Zubov started cackling, sending shivers up my spine. I never wanted to meet this man. He gave me the creeps, and that was saying something. It took a lot for a person to freak me out.

"You think he was a bad guy?"

"As a person? No. I bet he was a real family man, the complete opposite of what a mercenary should be. But in the sky? Yeah. You don't earn the moniker Demon Lord without having some bad streak in you. He and I are cut from the same cloth, so he has my respect. He's the only pilot I ever met who could shoot me down in the first meeting."

"That guy is mental and creeps me the hell out," Elizabeth remarked.

"Took the words right out of my mouth," I said.

"He wasn't fun to fly against either," Uncle Jason added.

Hillenbrand's kind face came on the screen, a welcome sight compared to Zubov's bizarreness.

"When a fighter pilot goes down," Hillenbrand stared, "that's the end. It disintegrates into pieces, incinerated beyond recognition. It's a scary thought. But it also makes you feel alive."

"Do you miss it?" Brett queried.

"I left the military, but I still fly that sky." He looked up wistfully as if he could see it through the ceiling. "But it's pretty lonely up there all by myself. I'd love to fly with him again someday…"

"I can't help but notice that there's a trend with the few pilots I've talked before you. None of you seem to hate him."

"No. I don't think you can really hate a guy who flies like that. I think the only reason someone would is if they had a personal vendetta against him. But none of us knew him, and we still don't. We just know how he flew, and he was a damn good fighter pilot."

Black took over the screen, then Dietrich Kellerman appeared, still standing with his shovel inside his farm. His moroseness made even my heart ache a little. He sniffled and said, "Hatred cannot be the only motivation for war. It only brings about more pointless deaths."

Brief video clips of the dog fight at the Round Table ensued, and I watched with excitement, knowing I was witnessing my uncle's flying. I'm not sure which was him and which was Pixy-their styles were almost identical- but I still saw him, and it was incredible.

"I lost most of my students. They were all my children, my flesh and blood. I will never overcome that grief," Kellerman said, the camera now back on him. "I'll probably never teach anyone again, nor will I ever go up in the sky again. I've entrusted everything I know to a new generation. I'll just look on from here."

"What's your opinion of the Demon Lord?"

"The death of my children wasn't his fault but mine. I sent them up with me too early. I'd heard rumors of this mercenary and overestimated my squadron's abilities, and underestimated his. It was the first and last time I ever did such a thing. If he has taught anyone his tactics, God help their future adversaries. They won't last long."

I nudged my sister. "Maybe you'll be the next Demon Lord."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Yeah, right. Like that'll ever happen."

"You never know," Uncle Jason said. "You do take on after me."

Elizabeth smiled, but I could tell she didn't believe us. Rather than discussing it further, I focused my attention back on the documentary.

Brett

Interview #8

A Woman of Undying Faith

Gran Rugido, Sapin

20 October, 2005

I pulled up in front of a small yet fancy restaurant on the outskirts of Sapin's capital. The red lights shone brightly in comparison to the dark night sky. I pulled out my recorder and began speaking. "Marcela Vasquez. The Espada Team's number two, and former member of the Sapin Air Force 9th Air and Land Division, 11th Tactical Fighter Squadron. She is thought to be a survivor of the Coup D'état Squadron. She currently earns a living as a dancer."

Thanks to some allergies, I had to repeat the recording several times before it sounded normal, and not like someone was pinching my nostrils. But once I was satisfied, I pocketed it, grabbed my camera, and entered the restaurant. My interview was after the restaurant had closed, allowing for privacy. It'd been at Marcela's request. Not wanting to miss out on the opportunity to interview her, I obliged to wait until midnight to talk. Endless cups of coffee kept me awake until the interview time. Now that I was here, it was my anticipation doing the job.

"Brett Thompson?" A woman asked, a Sapin accent lilting her tone.

"Yes," I replied, turning around. The woman wore a black flamenco dress, and a large, pink flower in her hair, which was pulled back into a tight bun. Small and fit, she didn't appear to be much more than a professional dancer, but I knew before me stood one of the greatest aces of the Sapin Air Force. Looks could truly be deceiving.

"I'm Marcela Vasquez. Please, sit down." She motioned at the barstool next to her, and I sat one over to get a better camera shot. "What would you like to know?"

"Before I asked about the Demon Lord, would you mind telling me a little bit about yourself before that day? Your background?"

"I was born in a small town on the border of Osea and Sapin, but we moved to the outskirts of this city when I was two. My parents owned a tailor shop, which I helped in until I went to college. My best friend was Alberto Lopez. We grew up together. He always had dreams of flying planes and joining the Air Force. He loved it so much. His eyes would light up just talking about jets." Marcela smiled to herself. "Soon, his passion turned into my passion, and when we graduated high school, we were accepted to attend the Sapin Air Force Academy. Our superiors noticed how well we worked together, and through hard work and dedication, we rose through the ranks. He became a captain, and I became his number two."

"May I ask what your relationship was with Captain Lopez?" I asked hesitantly. The topic of him was evidently sensitive for her, and I didn't want to push too hard in case it made her end the interview prematurely. I couldn't afford for that to happen.

"Alberto and I turned from friends to lovers. We were dating for a long time, and he proposed to me before we flew the escort mission with X-B0."

"Did your superiors have any problems with you two dating and working together?"

"At first, yes, they did. But when we threatened to walk away if they removed us from working together, they relented. They couldn't lose their top fighters. They soon learned they had no reason to worry about our personal relationship interfering with our professional one."

Gently, I asked, "What happened that day you escorted X-B0?"

Marcela stared at a spot on the floor, flashing back to that day. "If the Demon Lord hadn't appeared, our lives might've been different. For me, it wasn't about flying or ideals. Most of all, it was about him, my flight lead."

I pulled out my computer from my bag and played a clip from that day. It showed Espada One flying above her, but then the camera panned over and zoomed in on a plane approaching at high speeds. Its right wing was painted a navy blue, signifying the arrival of the one and only Demon Lord. Marcela watched with a mixture of happy and sad reminiscence. Meanwhile, I inquired further, "What was your mission that day?"

"Our mission was to escort the heavy command cruiser that was to act as transportation for the organization," she explained, once more staring at the floor. It seemed impossible for her to look at the camera or at me, as if talking about it directly to something was too painful. "And the Demon Lord appeared as if to block our paths. I will never forget his overwhelming power. One-by-one, my comrades were shot down, and then the mother bird we were supposed to protect."

"Did your RIOs survive?"

"No. The camera filming that clip you showed me is the only thing besides myself that survived my plane's wreckage. I don't know how, but it was. Alberto's RIO survived for a short time before he sadly succumbed to his deteriorated mental health."

"What about the two of you?"

"We survived the fight. We left the organization and returned to the ground together. And I returned to this city, where I grew up. Alberto conceded to my wishes of living here. He was heavily wounded and spent time recovering here. But, those whose hearts are in the sky will always return to the sky. He was one of them, and so he left, even though his wounds had yet to heal," Marcela said, her voice now barely above a whisper. "We were only able to spend a short time together in peace and quiet."

"I'm sorry for your loss," I told her kindly. "Have you flown since?"

"I never went back to the sky. He died there, never to return to me. There's no meaning now that he's gone."

My heart ached for this woman so whole-heartedly in love with her captain and best friend. Alberto loved her too, but his heart ultimately belonged to the sky, and it made me wonder, prompting my next question. "I apologize if this sounds insensitive, but do you regret joining the organization?"

"Yes, because it led Alberto to the beginning of his demise," she responded. "But, I don't blame anyone. The regret and suffering that remained after that battle were also what he had given me. They're among the precious few things he left behind."

"Captain Lopez or the Demon Lord?"

"Both, I guess, in their own way. Again, I don't blame anyone, not even my fiancé or the Demon Lord. How can I blame Alberto for following his passion? How can I follow the Demon Lord for carrying out his mission? They did what they thought we had to, and that's all anyone can do in war."

"If you could see Captain Lopez, what would you say to him?"

Marcela smiled. "I would tell him I loved him, and that I have loved in him every past life, and I will love him in every future life. He was my other half, and this life will not be the same without him. I don't think anyone could ever replace him. He was one of a kind. It would take quite the man to make me pursue a love other than Alberto."

"What about the Demon Lord? What would you like to say to him?"

"I'd want to tell him thank you, firstly. He gave Alberto a challenge that he ached to have. Alberto was proud to have fought against the Demon Lord and survive the mission. He wore that as a badge of honor, even if he did get shot down." She paused, pondering her next thought. "I would also like to tell him I hope his life has been filled with more joy than mine. I don't wish the death of a loved one on anyone, not even my enemies. That heartache never goes away. Some days are duller than others, but it's always there. And, I guess, if there's ever another war I'm involved in, I'd like to work alongside him. Whatever side he's on will be the winning side. I guarantee that."

"I really appreciate you taking the time to talk to me about this," I said. "I know it wasn't easy bringing up the past."

Marcela nodded. "You're welcome. It wasn't easy, you're right, but you have to face the past sooner or later. Otherwise, it'll eat you up inside. I learned that the hard way. I've attended many therapy sessions to help me. After the demise of Alberto, and knowing the cause of his RIO's death, I refused to let that happen to me. As much as I hate living this life with him, I'm still alive for that reason. I guess I'm still waiting to find out what that reason is."

"I wish you the best of luck, Ms. Vasquez. If you ever need anything or would like to talk some more, don't hesitate to reach out." I offered her my business card. She took it and bade me goodnight.

I walked out of the restaurant with a heavy heart. I had three other interviews to conduct, and I thought they were going to be my hardest ones. But tonight, I decided this had been the most difficult. Seeing the effect Alberto's death had upon Marcela shook me, strangely, even more so than Silber's. I'm not sure what it was about her testimony, but it'd been the hardest for me to hear.

That night, I barely slept, mulling over everything. My confidence wasn't shaken, but my emotional capacity had been. I feared another sad story might break me. I'd covered murders and kidnappings, and seen people sob in front of me. But I'd always had a reprieve in between those interviews, at least a month or two to recuperate.

But with this, I had an interview every few days to a week. It became taxing. I needed to find a way to push through this without losing my professionalism or my mind. The hunt for the Demon Lord was starting to become as dangerous and troublesome now as it was to cross him back then. Maybe that's the reason no one had ever tried what I was attempting now…