Chapter 11.

A DEVASTATING LOSS

For the next couple of days, the training commenced on schedule. As soon as the training instructors felt that the crew had control of their vehicles, they put them into numerous hard try-outs.

Jacques LaFleur was put into a firing test on the practice range. The training instructors had him drive around a sandpit, filled with dunes and humps to really put the off-road capabilities of Volcano to the limit. He also had to stay alert for pillboxes and pop-up targets. The practice range was filled with barbed wire and trenches, something that Jacques had to remain clear of as well.

When he reached the pillboxes, Jacques pulled the lever at his side. The huge monster truck split in half, pivoting until the windshield as well as the backdoors faced downwards. The two halves now formed a protective barrier around an armed pod that rose up in the middle of the vehicle. The pilot sat in the gun tower at top of the pod, positioning the muzzles. Opening fire, he took out both pillboxes. Almost instantly, three other targets popped up from the trench behind him. Jacques traversed his guns and knocked them out. Approaching the last line of targets, he laid down the combined firepower of the vehicle.

"All targets eliminated." The instructor concluded. "Well done, LaFleur."

The others were put through equally trying tests. Calhoun Burns in his hovercraft Raven skimmed over the lake, zigzagging between obstacles while he took out targets. Dusty Hayes did a similar test, under the water in his submarine Gator, passing through tight tunnels and under obstacles.

One afternoon, the team remained on the field to watch Katrina Dabrowski run through one of her SEAD (Suppression of Enemy Air Defences) tests. Anti-aircraft guns laid out illumination grenades and pyrotechnics. Her task was to avoid them, then line up the anti-aircraft battery and mark them out for Morten Øygard in Rattler to take them out with long-range missiles.

Katrina was arguably the best pilot in the team, and she had no real trouble evading the missiles that were launched at her. She guided Phalanx up over a small rise and then down into the valley where the batteries were located, skillfully swiveling the turbofans, and scanning the ground on visual and infra-red frequencies. But as she banked the craft, nosed down and begun to pick up airspeed, something happened. The craft rocked violently in the air and begun to lose altitude rapidly. Katrina tried to compensate only to have Phalanx stalling. The engines failed, and the turbofan gunship went into a spin. Totally out of control, Phalanx crashed into the ridge next to the aircraft battery.

Everyone reacted quickly and the base fire fighters as well as a medical team rushed to the sight. The Military Police formed a protective circle around the downed aircraft, allowing the rescue team to work without disturbance.

Feeling totally helpless, Matt and the others could only stand by and watch as Katrina's body was cut loose from the cockpit and the medics provided CPR and first aid treatment.

After what felt like several hours, a helicopter landed, brought her aboard and flew to the nearest hospital. Matt grabbed one of the medics, before he got into his car.

"What's the situation?" he asked anxiously.

The doctor put his hand on his shoulder, as if trying to comfort and support him.

"I'm sorry." he said softly. "She has suffered internal bleeding. She had gone into a shock as we cut her out, and now she has drifted into coma. We don't expect her to survive, she'll probably be dead before the helicopter reaches the hospital."

Matt could only watch him leave. He felt lifeless, like an empty shell. He couldn't believe that this was happening.

The atmosphere in the lounging area the team retreated to was low-spirited. The lights were down, and each member of the Special Missions Force looked like the living dead under the eerie glow that came through the windows. Everyone was just waiting for that inevitable phone call, bringing the news everyone expected, but no one wanted to hear.

In less than an hour the phone rang, startling everyone. Matt stared at it, torn between his fear of receiving the bad news and his responsibility to hear them.

The conversation was brief with an occasional affirmative coming from him. He had grabbed the back of a chair with his free hand as he took the call, and the further it went, the more his grip on the chair hardened, until his knuckles grew pale.

With a mild "Thank you" Matt put the phone down on the table, stood there staring at it for a moment, uncertain. Finally, he turned to the anxious team.

"I don't think that I need to tell you what it said." His voice was just above a whisper, without tone. "Katrina died in intensive care. She never regained consciousness."

The news hit hard, even though it was the expected one. Dusty's shoulders dropped, and his posture stiffened. Brad's lips parted slightly, and shock drained his face from all emotion. Gloria shock her head wildly, as much to deny the truth as to keep Matts words from her ears. Paul hugged her closely to him while Bruce crossed himself. A friend lost; color gone out of the world.

From somewhere Bishop produced a candle, which he proceeded to light and positioned on the table.

"For Katrina." He spoke. He seemed distant and distracted.

Morten read a prayer while everyone else sat silently and introspective. Retreated to inner thoughts and contemplation. Staring at the naked dancing light.

"It just doesn't make sense," Buddie finally said, punctuating the silence that occupied the room. "Katrina was our most skilled pilot, and no one of the FLAKs was even close to her when she lost control of the craft."

"It must have been a mechanical failure." Rico suggested silently.

"I would like to believe so too," Calhoun agreed. "There were no indications of any injuries on the craft before it crashed. It was more like the steering system was taken out of commission."

"Andy and his team will make a thorough investigation on the entire incident," Matt pointed out flatly, each word requiring enormous effort. "They'll know for sure if it was a human error or a mechanical failure that caused Katrina to crash."

He got up with a heavy sigh.

"I have to write a letter of condolence to Katrina's parents." He explained to the others. "I have to inform them about what happened today."

No one looked him directly into the eye. They didn't envy him.

"I'm going for a drink." Hondo decided. He couldn't stand sitting around; instead, he opted for the sanctuary of the bar with a less depressed atmosphere to grieve in private.

Matt stiffened at the door.

"Lieutenant!" He said sternly. "One drink only. If I find out that you looked to deeply into the bottle, I'll throw you into the stockade by myself!"

Hondo was surprised at this sudden display of authority, but at the same time he understood his leader. They lost a comrade, but the team was still active, and it was unacceptable for one of its members to get so drunk that he would be unable to perform his duty.

Matt walked across the yard with purposeful strides. He knew what he had to do, and there was no point in postponing his duties.

Early the next day Hugh Heyman arrived at Thomas Jefferson training field, accompanied by Colonel Wolf. He went straight to the engineer's garage to get the latest news on the damage survey, and then he gathered the trainees in the lounging room. By the look of them, he could clearly tell that sleep had eluded several of them that night.

"Words alone can't express the regret I feel for this horrible accident that took the life of your friend yesterday." He explained. "Andy Trakker and his team of experts will examine all footage taken during the practice and they will go through Phalanx systematically to determine what went wrong yesterday."

Calhoun raised his hand to get the attention from Hugh.

"Sir?" He asked. "What's the official standpoint in this?"

H.H. looked away briefly. The question made him slightly uncomfortable.

"As far as my department goes," he said. "We will await the result from the investigation. At this point it is impossible to determine if it was a mechanical failure or the human factor that caused the crash. There are however a lot of critical voices in the World Unification Alliance as well as the Secretary of Defense who demands the immediate shutdown of the project."

"I'm sure yesterday's incident must be looking like a shadow over everything right now." He continued. "So we're going to have a memorial ceremony for Katrina Dabrowski tomorrow, then until further notice, I'm sending you home."

Another hand shot into the air. This one belonged to Marvin Rico.

"Sir? You're not deactivating the Special Missions Force, are you?"

"No." H.H. replied. "This will only last until the examination is completed. The World Unification Alliance has invested too much money into this operation to shut it down at this point. But we want to determine if this is an isolated incident, so we won't suffer any more casualties if the examination does indeed prove that the vehicles are to blame."

He dismissed the team and walked back to his car together with Colonel Wolf.

"I think it was a mistake to put a man like Matt Trakker in command of this unit." Wolf said. "He doesn't have the experience of command to assemble a strong enough team. That female pilot probably panicked under fire and lost control of her craft."

"Let the examination determine if she did, Lyman." H.H. bit off impatiently. "But you can't hold Matt as responsible for the crash. He has been doing a fine job so far."

"I don't think Trakker realizes what he has to deal with." The Colonel insisted. "Just look at the team he assembled. Only a few of them are under thirty, many of them have families. Is that the soldiers that will assume the responsibility of protecting our country?"

"I don't think having families will make these men and women lose their edge." H.H. protested. "And we thought it would be better to go with experience and knowledge instead of youth."

"That's a mistake that could cost us dearly, Mr. Heyman." 'Mayhem' grunted as they stepped into their respective cars.

The memorial ceremony held in the chapel in Fort Eustis was a trying experience for Matt Trakker. It was hard enough to bid farewell to a friend that had been abruptly snatched away from them but having to face Katrina's parents and express his condolences was something he would rather have been excused from. Both of them were quiet and the recent loss was an obvious burden on their minds. They didn't blame him for what happened, on the contrary, they thanked him for his heartfelt words in the letter and in the speech he had given during the ceremony. Mrs. Dabrowski sobbed through most of the ceremony, while her husband seemed more pulled together.

"Your daughter was a dear friend to all of us." Matt explained. "I'm sure that you were both very proud of her."

Mr. Dabrowski interrupted him with a surprising question.

"Do you have any children, Mr. Trakker?"

"Yes, I have." Matt replied. "Two of them actually. No parent should ever have to outlive their children."

Mr. Dabrowski nodded.

"Too true. However, you must also know that you can't hold on to them forever. And no matter how much you'd like to, there's no way that you can always be there to protect them from danger."

Matt nodded in silent agreement. As a parent that was one eternal thought burning through the mind. The concern that something should happen to your children and that you wouldn't be there to pull them out of harm's way. But Katrina was an adult, a soldier, she knew the risks.

"The risk of dying is something that all soldiers must live with," Matt said, more to himself than to Katrina's father. "But not like this. Not in a freak accident during a training session."

Mr. Dabrowski smiled.

"Katrina loved what she was doing. She constantly told us how happy and proud she was at being part of your unit. Even though it is a small consolation for both you and us, I know that she died carrying out something that she enjoyed."

"I'm glad that you feel that way, Sir." Matt said. "But I hope that the result from the investigation will prove that Katrina was not to blame for the crash. That it was a mechanical failure, and not the human error."

"So do I, Mr. Trakker." He agreed.

Matt had escorted them back to their car. Mr. Dabrowski shook his hand and stepped in behind the wheel. Matt opened the side door for Mrs. Dabrowski.

He looked after the car as it drew off, then he turned towards the team that had gathered around him.

"So what's the word, Matt?" Bishop asked.

"The word? We're going home on an indefinite time, or at least until the department has made a decision depending on the result of the examination of Phalanx. So, go home. Enjoy your sudden vacation. I'll promise that I'll send word for you as soon as I know and are cleared to tell you."

The same afternoon the Special Missions Force checked out from Thomas Jefferson training field and traveled back to their respective home cities. Although H.H. had clearly stated that team would only get a temporary sabbatical, everyone couldn't help but felt like the task force was really deactivated.