Chapter 10: Going Shopping
Outside the dorms Owen waited for SVT to follow him. She ran out a second later.
"So," she asked, "Where do you want to go?"
Owen pulled a sheet of paper from the envelope he was holding, and handed it to her. She skimmed over it and nodded, before handing it back.
"Follow me." She ordered and began walking.
Owen raised an eyebrow and did as he was commanded. They made their way to the medical bay without a word. When they arrived, SVT stood outside the doorway not saying a word, just giving him a glare.
Owen rolled his eyes and pushed the door open, Ribey was seated at a small desk at the opposite side of the room , IV tree standing beside her, doing some paperwork. She looked up and surprise registered on her face as she saw who it was.
"Monsieur Owen, back so soon?" Her surprise turned to concern, "Is there a problem with your stitches?"
Owen held up his arm, "Nope, they're still good."
He passed the rows of beds to her desk and sat down in the chair opposite her desk and thumbed through his envelope, after he found what he was looking for he let out an "aha!" and set it on her desk.
She picked the paperwork up and nodded, "I see," she checked a few boxes, signed the bottom, and handed it back with a smile.
"You're in luck Monsieur, I've already taken your blood today, and it's on its way to the labs. There's nothing more for you to do here" she paused in thought.
"Unless you get hurt again." She added teasingly.
"Knowing my luck...who knows?" He joked.
She gave a small laugh, "I would consider it a professional courtesy if you remained in one piece during the rest of your stay here."
Owen rose, "I'll try my best, have a good day."
"Merci, you as well." She said and went back to her work.
Back outside, Owen was more than a little surprised to see SVT hadn't abandoned him. He thought about saying something, but decided against it.
After a wordless trip to the finance office to make sure he would get a paycheck, and another silent trip to the supply office to pick up three uniforms, a new pair of boots, and a drop leg holster, (the female supply clerk also threw in a new chest rig to be delivered to his room after he sweet talked her) Owen had finally had enough of the cold shoulder.
"So how much longer are we going to play the quiet game? Or are you just determined to silently hate me until the end times?"
SVT continued saying nothing, causing Owen's eye to twitch.
"I don't trust you." She finally confessed.
He nodded once, "Fair enough."
She was a little surprised by that, she imagined that he would try to say something to try and defend himself. Instead, he looked at his watch, frowned, then looked at SVT expectantly. She frowned in confusion before she realized he was waiting on her to lead him somewhere. She rolled her eyes.
"Where do you need to go now?" She asked as she tried, and failed, to suppress an annoyed sigh.
"Armory please!"
-Armory-
"Look man, this ain't the army. You want fancy shit I gotta order it, and you gotta pay for it, or Kalina will have my ass." The Quartermaster, Hayes, said.
"Any chance I can start a tab?" Owen asked hopefully.
Hayes folded his arms and raised a skeptical eyebrow, "Outpost 17 has a history of operating in the red and not paying debts. No deal."
Owen gritted his teeth in frustration, "Ok, so what do I have to do to get you to play ball here."
The man shrugged his massive shoulders and gave Owen a look that could have almost been sympathetic, "You prove to me you can actually turn that place around, and I'll consider it a start."
Owen swore, "Ok fine, what about dope and beer runs? "
This caused the giant man to break into a grin and SVT to look at Owen like he had grown an extra head.
"Man, I haven't heard it called that in forever." The Quartermaster laughed, "Yeah, I got ya covered. Give me a list of what dolls use what guns and I'll get you set up with weekly runs."
Owen felt a small bit of relief at that and gave a grateful nod of the head, "Thanks man, I appreciate it."
Hayes waved a dismissive hand, "It's nothing, I'm not going to let those girls suffer just because your Outpost is in no man's land."
"Quartermaster Hayes has always been good to us." SVT confirmed.
"I'm glad to hear that, thanks for looking out for them." Owen said.
"Enough about your shitty outpost." He grinned and waved to the gear behind him, "I've been told to give you free pic of what we *do* have on hand."
Owen's eyes lit up, and he grew visibily excited. Hayes chuckled and unlocked the door, "Have fun."
Owen dashed passed him and started speed walking through the rows of weapons and gear.
He stopped at the rows of handguns, picking one up, working the action, hefting it in his hand, and aiming it at various points in the room. He sat it back down and repeated the process a few times before finally settling on one. It was a Walther PPQ with a threaded barrel. He placed in his holster. After that he made his way over to the rifles.
He picked up a 416, and pulled the bolt back. As he did, a small slip of paper that had been taped to the stock fell to the floor. He bent over to pick up and saw a note written in cursive.
-Put it back, or I will gut you like a fish.- ~416
"Ooook then." He said, and placed the rifle back on the rack.
Then something caught his eye, he grinned and picked it up. It was a CZ 805 chambered in 7.62 NATO. He remembered shooting one during a weapons familiarity course when they were working with a French unit in Berlin and absolutely loving it. He brought the weapons up front and saw that Hayes had already placed a Mk 3 modular combat helmet on the table, with a set of last gen quad tube night vision already attached.
"And here I thought you didn't like me." Owen joked.
Hayes stared at him for a second working his jaw, "I've heard you like to take a more... front lines approach as a Commander, so here. But if you get you killed, I better get it back."
"Well, I guess."
Hayes nodded, "Good man, I'll give you magazines and ammo for the Walther now, and I'll have the rest sent up to your room after I finish up the paperwork for everything."
Owen thanked him again for everything, and left. When they were back outside, Owen stretched and checked his watch again.
"Mind putting up with me a bit longer? I need to go to the doll repair wing." He asked.
SVT nodded, and Owen expected the silent treatment to continue as they started walking, but SVT surprised him.
"Why are you getting us dope and beer?" She asked.
Owen let out a chuckle, "Dope and beer is what we called ammo in the army." he explained.
"Ah." She said, and fell silent, "that's weird."
"The military is a weird a place." He said.
She smiled at that, "Griffin is too."
She fell in step beside him, as they walked. After a few minutes she spoke up again.
"I have something that I think belongs to you. It's a tac-pad I found. I've um... I've been reading it." SVT said.
Owen reached for the tac-pad he kept in his pocket. He pulled it out and showed it to her, a single raised eyebrow showing his confusion.
She shook her head, "An old one, I found it in a barn outside the citu, along with some other gear. It had the coordinates of the building we found you in. It's how we found you, actually."
Owen's eyes lit up as he remembered, "Oh man, I forgot we did that." Then his face fell, "I guess that means DuLaney never made it back there." He said, sadness in his voice.
"DuLaney?" SVT asked.
"Ah...he was a buddy of mine, we had been put into the same team when I finally got my first assignment with Delta. We managed to stay alive through the entire war until my... incident." He explained.
"Oh," was all SVT could say, "I'm sorry."
Owen blinked a few times and took a deep breath, and mumbled something. They kept walking for what seemed like ages before he spoke again.
"Hey, thanks for helping me out today, I know I'm not your favorite person." He said.
"It's not that, it's just..." She paused, frowning.
"Nah, I get it. Having a fucked up person in charge can really make you not trust leadership anymore."
SVT nodded slowly, "You're not so bad though." She admitted.
"Give it time, I'm really good at being a fuck up." He joked.
She let out a laugh, "You don't think very highly of yourself, do you?"
"I am my own worst enemy." he said proudly.
The continued making jokes at Owen's expense, and even a SVT's expense, and before she knew it, they were at the repair bay.
"Well, this is it. Thanks again for showing me around." Owen said, and opened the door. SVT could hear angry yelling but couldn't make out what was said, Owen closed the door and looked at her.
SVT nodded her head towards the bay, "What are you doing?"
"How's your Russian?" he asked.
SVT arched an eyebrow, "You look like a cat barfed into a blender filled with cow shit." She said in Russian.
Owen broke into a grin, "Perfect, want to translate for me?"
"What?"
Owen's grin grew wide, "C'mon, it'll be fun!"
"O-ok." SVT stammered out.
They entered the repair bay and was met with angry yelling, lot's of angry yelling. In Russian. Owen made his way to the back of the repair bay, and saw Alexander being verbally assaulted by the doll they had rescued the night before.
"If you don't take these restraints off of me right now, I swear I will rip your pathetic excuse for a dick off and shoce down your throat!" The doll screamed.
Alexander rolled his and continued looking at a computer that was hooked up to another doll. This doll was sitting there quietly and ignoring everything around him.
"Sounds like good times in here!" Owen gleefully yelled over the din.
The first doll stopped yelling immediately and fixed Owen with a glare.
"You." she spat.
Owen gave her a wave, "What's up stabby, how's life?"
"Let me go, now." She demanded.
Owen pretended to think about it, "I dunno, last time I tried to help you out, I got stabbed."
"That was just a misunderstanding." She deadpanned.
"Hell of a misunderstanding, don't you think?"
She gave him a fake smile, "If you let me go, I promise not murder you and your," she shot SVT a look, "band of sluts."
SVT marched over and swung at the doll. Owen rolled his eyes and caught SVTs arm before she could connect, "Easy there." He said.
SVT tried to snatch her arm away, but Owen's grip held firm, "I know, she's kind of a bitch. But you can't just go around hitting everyone you don't like."
"I didn't hit you." SVT snapped, but relaxed.
Owen let go, "And I appreciate that."
The doll laughed again, "You can't even control your dolls, you're a shit commander."
Alexander sighed, "Will you please do something with her?" he asked.
Owen shrugged, "Like what?"
"I don't know, something?"
Owen looked at the doll, "I think we got off on the wrong foot, I'm..."
"Sergeant Owen from the Joint Allied Force. You've aged well." the doll snarked.
"It's Commander Owen of Griffin now actually. But I already know who I am, and you already know who I am, but I don't know who you are." Owen said.
"Mariya." Was all she replied.
"Ok Mariya, how the hell do you know who I am?" He asked.
She gave him a skeptical look, "You really dont remember?" she asked.
Owen studied her face and frowned, he couldn't deny that she looked familiar but couldn't place where he had seen her.
"Nope."
Mariya rolled her eyes, "Ten years ago, I was the one in the building."
Owen snapped his fingers, "She was the one in the building!" He told SVT excitedly. SVT just gave him a look.
He turned back to Mariya, "Which building?"
Mariya rolled her eyes, "In the city, it was struck by a rocket."
"Holy shit!" He exclaimed, "You were the sniper!"
"Yes I was." Mariya replied.
"How the hell did you end up here, and why did you fucking stab me?" Owen asked.
"To answer both questions, I had been captured. What would you have done?"
"Fair point."
Mariya shrugged her shoulders, "Now that that's been cleared up, what's going to happen to me?"
"Want work for me?"
"Fuck no."
"Ok, you can go."
"You can't let her go, she's insane!" Alexander protested.
Owen fixed him with a stare, "SVT, what's Griffin protocol for finding abandoned T-Dolls?"
"Protocol states that the doll in question can be enlisted by the Commander that found her or they can retire her. Said Commander can also force enlistment if the situation is bad enough." She answered.
"Mariya you are hereby enlisted into Griffin and Kryuger PMC starting now." He turned to the doll, who was glaring daggers at him.
He continued, "I would also like to congratulate you on five seconds of exemplary service and accept your resignation, effective immediately."
The three were silent, trying to figure out what just happened.
"If you would like to stay the night before going on your way, you're more than welcome to, also if you change your mind and would like continue your work with Griffin and Kryuger, my door is always open."
"Uh...thanks?" Mariya said, not knowing what to do as Owen walked over and removed her restraints.
As he did, he whispered, "Please don't make me regret this."
She locked her blue eyes with his, and gave a single nod. "Thank you." She mouthed.
He gave her a smile in reply, and stood back up.
Mariya's enlistment and immediate separation out of the way, he turned back to Alexander, and nodded towards the silent doll,"Now then, what's the story with the chatter box there?"
Alexander waved his tablet, "This is the ex Sangvis doll we found. It belonged to one of the customers from my... previous employer."
Owen didn't miss the disdain in his voice, "Can she talk?"
Alexander nodded and stared at his tablet, "She can, but she was never given a personality so don't expect her to be much of a conversa...tionalist... that's odd."
"What's odd?" Owen asked.
"She wasn't originally built by Sangvis, she was... outsourced." Alexander said frowning.
Owen perked up at that, "Outsourced to who?"
Alexander shrugged, "All it says is ATS."
"Are you sure?" Owen was getting excited now.
Alexander handed him the tablet, "Says so right there."
"What's ATS?" SVT asked.
"Automated Tactical Solutions." Owen explained, "They were a T-Dolls manufacturer based out of Amarillo I think. Anyway, at some point they had stolen designs for Sangvis dolls that were being sold to the Russians during the war and designed their own versions based off of the original design."
"So what's so exciting about a western knock off?" Alexander asked?
"First of all, ATS dolls were shit hot in a firefight, second of all, they built a bunch of dolls that were essentially sleeper agents." Owen stared hard at the doll, who ignored him.
"I'm not a tech guy, but I was told that they had some program buried deep in their brain that kicked on whenever someone tried to rewrite their programming. It was like a passive observation mode or something. One time, this super hot female Spetsnaz commander captured one when she overran a base in Germany and reprogrammed it to be a Russian T-Doll thinking it was one we had originally stolen from them."
He took a breath and continued, "Well, she used the doll as a bodyguard but also..." he trailed off.
"Also?" Mariya asked, "Just finish the damn story."
Owen gave her annoyed look, but obliged, "Somehow, we got her, the doll I mean, back after a year. A year! Turns out, she used the doll as a... uh... source of comfort when they were alone. Some beautiful bastard managed to edit together all of the sexy bits and then sent copies to literally everyone."
Owen stared off with a dreamy look on his face, "It was the only time I thought about switching sides."
"All that story does is prove that you're a huge pervert." SVT said in disgust.
Owen just shrugged, "You're not wrong."
Alexander started nodding, "You think this doll did the same thing?"
"Yes I do."
"How do we find out?" Alexander asked.
Owen stared at the doll for a few seconds, then spoke, "Crabapple, dragon, noodle, fret, moonshine." He said.
"Did he just have a stroke?" Mariya asked.
The doll's head turned and she looked at Owen, "I'm sorry?" She asked quietly.
Owen grinned, "Combat system override verification for sierra oscar golf. User verification is November Oscar 5175."
"Second authorization please." the doll said.
"There once was a girl." Owen replied.
"Authentication received, this unit will now operate under the command of Sergeant Nathaniel Owen until further notice. Be advised, this unit has 61,320 hours of passive observance stored. Would you like to begin playback?"
"God no." Owen said.
"Be advised, under Article 125 of the Joint Armed Forces Convention, all information gathered from a Tactical Unit while in enemy territory must be observed and catalogued accordingly. Failure to do so can result with court-martial."
Owen rubbed the bridge of his nose, "I know that, thank you. I'll have my technician here," he clapped a hand on Alexander's shoulder, "Get that intel off of your hands."
"Understood."
He turned to Alexander, "Do me a favor, when you pull the intel, get it to Gentiane's tech team. She'll want to see it. After that, get her combat ready."
"Will do boss." Alexander said with a mock salute.
"Also, don't let any of the technicians get too handsy with you. They try to touch in the lady bits, non lethal is authorized." Owen said to the doll.
"Understood."
Owen nodded and turned to leave, then stopped, "Oh yeah, dinner is an hour." He pointed finger guns at Alexander and Mariya, "If you're interested." He then spun on his heels and left.
SVT hurried after him, leaving Alexander, Mariya, and the ATS doll alone.
"Fuckhead." Mariya snarled at him.
"Bitch." He snapped back.
-Dorms-
Owen bid SVT goodbye and made his way back to his own dorm room. All of his things were already inside, as promised. He chuckled when he realized that Hayes had indeed delivered a full combat load of ammo and magazines, as promised. However, Owen would have to load the mags himself. He did a closer inspection of the CZ805 and saw that it was in excellent condition. He turned on some music from his tac pad and began loading the mags. Some people found it tedious, but for Owen, it was a good chance to just disconnect.
After he loaded the mags, he filled the pouches on his chest rig. Hayes had also sent a few grenades his way. Owen decided that he liked Hayes. He checked his watch and saw that he had half an hour until dinner. He showered, thought about shaving, but didn't. Got dressed and made his way to the chow hall.
Dinner went smoothly, all of the dolls, Alexander, and even Olena was there. Olena had been wandering the base all day, but finally got on someone's nerves and had attached herself to MP-40s hip. Owen saw Mariya enter the chow hall, get food, and leave. But not before giving Owen a small wave. After he was done with his food, he looked around to see if Gentiane was in the room. He found her in the corner, scrolling through something on her tac pad, a scowl on her face.
Owen bid farewell to everyone at the table, grabbed two cups of coffee, and made his way over to Gentiane. Owen placed one of the cups in front of her before sitting opposite of her.
"Just a heads up, that doll we found wasn't Sangvis, it's an ATS model." He informed her.
Gentiane picked up the coffee, and took a sip. "As far a greetings go, that one kind of sucked. But you brought me coffee so I'll let it pass."
She waved her tac pad, "I'm just got the email from Kalina." An evil grin spread onto her face, "She's pretty pissed to have seven years worth of data to sift through."
Owen winced, "Remind me not to get on your bad side."
Gentiane nodded, "It's wise not to."
She took another sip of coffee, "I also heard you let the other doll go."
Owen nodded, "She was my responsibility, and she didn't want to be here."
"You do realize that she is supposed to have her combat core removed before you do that, right?" She informed him with a steely look.
"She's been a T-Doll for at least ten years, Griffin hasn't been around that long." He said.
Gentiane sighed, "True, but combat cores are hard to come by, the last Commander would have cored her."
Owen rolled his eyes, "Jesus I'm getting sick of hearing what the old outpost commander did, or what he would have done, or how much of an asshole he was."
Gentiane grinned, "Your girls don't trust you?"
He leaned forward on the table with a groan, "I don't know, I think they trust me enough to listen to what I say in combat. But I think that they think I'm going to fuck them over. I mean, except for Nines, she'd follow me into hell, oh and Colette too."
"Colette is your pilot, right?"
"Yup."
Gentiane's tablet chirped and she stood, "Sorry, gotta go. I have a mission to oversee."
"Good luck." Owen said as she hurried away.
He sat there for a moment, thinking about what to do next. That's when he realized that Colette never made it to dinner.
- Hangars-
Owen wandered around the hangars until he found the Hind. He saw Colette on top of it, working on the engine.
"You missed dinner." Owen called out.
Colette looked around in surprise until she spotted Owen, "Hey Owen! Give me a sec and I'll be down!"
Owen stood there, holding her food for another ten minutes.
"Give me a sec?" Owen teased.
Colette rolled her eyes, and grabbed her food."Don't be such a baby."
With that, she led him to the edge of the hangar where some lawn chairs and a cooler had been placed. She opened the cooler and tossed Owen a beer, before grabbing one for herself. They sat down and Colette started devouring her food. Owen chuckled and stretched his legs out, enjoying his beer.
Out on the ramp, three Blackhawks were being prepped for take off. Owen assumed it had to do with the mission Gentiane was talking about earlier. A fuel truck was making it's way from one to the other, while the flight crews removed all of the covers and began their pre-flight checks. As this was happening, three teams of T-Dolls made their way to the helos. Weapons were checked, crew chiefs told them where to sit and gave the standard safety briefs. Owen felt a wave of nostalgia watching it all happen.
"Reminds you of the old days eh?" Colette said quietly.
Owen nodded, "Yeah it does."
They sat in silence for a bit, "Hey Nate?"
Owen turned to her, "Yeah?"
"Can I be your pilot?'
Owen frowned, confused, "You are my pilot."
Colette shook her head, "Not officially, I mean...I don't fly for Griffin."
"Ah, yeah you can be my pilot." He said.
Colette smiled and raised her beer, "Just like the old days.
Owen raised his own and the bottles clinked, "Hopefully better than the old days," he said.
Colette laughed, "Yeah, that would be good."
The helicopters blades started turning at the same time. Colette and Owen watched the crew chiefs for each bird finish their final checks, then jump in the back. The blades began to pick up speed, and all three Blackhawks lifted up at the same time, turned, and sped off into the sunset.
Owen drained his beer and stood, yawning, "Alright, I'm gonna go rack out. I haven't had much sleep in the past couple of days."
Colette stood too, "Why not just sleep in the Hind, with me." She said with a wink.
Owen rolled his eyes, "I'm gonna get you fixed."
Colette laughed, "I'm a doll, remember?"
"Then I'm gonna get your horny processor removed."
"You wouldn't dare!" She said in mock horror.
"Or," He continued, his voice a low purr, "I'll take you to the back of the Hind, and overload it until it burns out."
She waggled her eyebrows at him, "Wanna see if you can try?"
Owen laughed as he walked off, "Maybe another time."
"Tease!" Colette called after him. After he was out of sight, she ran to the back of the Hind and closed the door.
- Dorms-
Owen collapsed onto his bed exhausted. He had never wanted sleep so bad in his life. He tried to kick his boots off, but that was too much effort, so he gave up on that. He was going to put his head on the pillow, but that was also, too much work. He decided that having most of your body on the mattress was good enough and started to drift off.
An explosion sounded from somewhere in the distance, and then another. He eyes slowly peeled back open as he tried to figure out what was happening. After the third explosion, and sirens began, he realized what it was, and rolled full onto the bed, pulling the blankets over him.
"Just a mortar attack." He mumbled, and fell asleep.
- 90 minutes earlier-
When the UH-60s took off, one of the pilots noticed that when he tried to talk to the Griffin air traffic controller using the VHF radio*, all he got was static. He switched to his back up VHF radio and still got nothing but static. The pilot then switched frequencies to talk to the second helicopter, but found that the two could talk to each with no problem. In fact, when the second pilot tried to contact ATCT* she reported the same thing.
The first pilot then switched to his SATCOM* array, and was able to talk to tower. He reported the problem, and the controller verified that they were indeed having problems with their VHF radio. The controller then called the communications technician on duty to report the issue. The comm tech, Jeff, grumbled good naturedly about having his dinner interrupted and promised to start working on the issue right away.
Jeff grabbed his toolbox and made his way out to his truck. His first stop was the base's traffic control tower. It wasn't much of a tower, just tall enough to see over the landing area for the base's small fleet of helicopters. He made his way up the stairs and called out the air controller.
"Hey Yvette, how's it going?"
She looked up from her book and beamed at him, "Hey Jeff, I didn't expect you up here so fast."
He sat his toolbox on the floor, and plopped down in a chair next to her, "What can I say, I've got a really good work ethic. Besides, this place has the best view on the whole base."
She laughed and swatted at him with her book, "I already told you, I don't date anyone in the base."
Jeff frowned and stared out over the base, "Hmm, that *would* be a problem, if I lived on base." He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, "Luckily, I don't, and I have a reservation for that fancy Italian place downtown."
Her eyes lit up at that, but said nothing, so he continued.
"Right now I don't have a date and it would be a shame if I went solo, so I was hoping a certain beautiful traffic controller could accompany me..."
She laughed, "Flattery will only get you so far." She paused in thought finger to her lips, then motioned to the controls in front of her. "Tell you what, you get this fixed before the helos get back, and I'll go on your date."
Jeff grinned in triumph, "Done." He said as he stood.
"Aren't you confident." She teased.
He shrugged, "When you're as good at your job as me, it comes naturally."
Yvette rolled her eyes, "As good as you *think* you are."
"I'm the best comms guy on duty." He defended.
Yvette scoffed, "You're the only comms guy on duty, right now."
Jeff held a hand to his heart and faked a pained expression, "Why must you be so cruel?"
"Because my radios still don't work." She said.
He held up his hands defensively, "Ok ok, I'll get them fixed, just gotta go to the antenna farm."
"I'll be waiting, don't take too long." She teased.
Jeff raised his hand in mock salute, "Yes ma'am."
With that he went back to his truck and drove to the antenna farm, got out of the truck and grabbed his trusty tool box, whistling cheerfully as he did so. He had been trying to take Yvette out on a date since she first rotated here six months ago. It had been love at first sight, at least for him. For her, not so much.
He heard the low murmers from nearby, saw a man and woman standing close to each other and sighed. Young couples at the base often snuck out here for some quality alone time, and he had caught them more than once "in the act."
He was about to give them shit when he noticed what they were doing. The man was wiring something to the base of one of the antennas. From his time as a Combat Engineer in the war, he could tell it was an explosive device.
"Oh shit." He said without realizing it.
The woman's head snapped up and fixed her eyes on him. He dropped the toolbox and sprinted for his truck. He didn't get far before heard the shot, and felt the round strike him in the back. He tried to get on his feet, but before he could, the explosives detonated. The shockwave forced him down onto the ground. He felt heat wash over him, and then nothing.
*VHF Radio: Very high frequency radio; used by aircraft to talk to tower. Line of sight communication.
*SATCOM: Satellite Communication, used to talk to tower when VHF is unavailable. The actual process of aircraft communications between the a/c and tower is a bit more complicated than what I wrote here. This is an extremely watered down version.
*ATCT: Air traffic control tower
*ATC: Air traffic controller
A/N: I feel like my characters need more depth to them. Any feedback on that and my writing style is more than welcome.
Also, I may bought a Walther PPQ clone recently and absolutely fell in love with it. Owen may go through rifles like crazy, but the Walther will be with him to the end.