Skies of Steel

Chapter 6: Fireflight and New Friends: Part 1

Date: November 26, 1940
Location: Somewhere in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean
Time: 0700 Hours
Squadron: 59th Squadron

"Heathrow," radioed Leonard. "How long have we been flying? We're not seeing the flotilla anywhere!"

"Calm down, Leonard," radioed Heathrow, "I'm trying to get on their radio station. Hold tight." Heathrow then turned to his secondary radio, which he used only for land and sea-based allies. As he turned the radio's knobs and flicked its levers, Heathrow started sending out messages.

"U.S Navy Floatilla," radioed Heathrow, "This is 2nd Lieutenant Christopher Heathrow. Where are you guys?" There was no response, only static.

Heathrow then tried again. "U.S Navy Floatilla, This is 2nd Lieutenant Christopher Heathrow. Where are you guys?" However, instead of static, there was a garbled response. Heathrow could only make out the words "have" and "radar" out.

"Heathrow?" spoke Ash, "Should we fly lower? The wind may be fucking with the radio connection and garbling the message."

"Ok," radioed Heathrow, "All pilots, descend to Angels 20. Repeat, all pilots, descend to Angels 20."

The planes descended to 20,000 feet above sea level. After the planes descended, Heathrow tried again. "U.S Navy Floatilla, This is 2nd Lieutenant Christopher Heathrow. Where are you guys?" Instead of a gabled message, he heard this: "We have you on radar, Second Lieutenant," spoke the voice of a man, "But we can't see you. What are your bearings?"

Heathrow responded, "We are 20,000 feet above sea level. What is the closest ship to us?"

"The closest one to you is the Battleship USS Defender." the voice responded. "Try radioing them."

"Ok," radioed Heathrow. Heathrow then tuned the frequency of his secondary radio to the frequency of the USS Defender. After his radio was tuned to the correct frequency, Heathrow then started to radio the USS Defender.

"USS Defender, this is 2nd Lieutenant Christopher Heathrow." radioed Heathrow, "What is your current location?"

"We're 250 nautical miles away from you," radioed the USS Defender's radioman.

"Ok," radioed Heathrow, "since we know that you're 250 nautical miles away, we need to know what's the closest aircraft carrier."

"The closest aircraft carrier to you is the USS Tranquility," radioed the USS Defender's radioman, "You can refuel there."

"Thank god," radioed Heathrow, "We're low on fuel. I'm going to tell my squadron that we're going to land."

"Ok," radioed the USS Defender's radioman, "USS Tranquility out."

"Alright men," radioed Heathrow, "We're going to land on the USS Tranquility. I want arrestor hooks fully extended when we land."

As each plane extended their arrestor hooks, down below on the USS Tranquility's flight deck, the flight crews were scrambling to get everything ready when the planes would land on the carrier. After the flight controller gave the signal, the planes made their descent one by one while they were flying in a circle. Heathrow descended first since he had the lowest amount of fuel left. As each pilot made their descent, the USS Tranquility brought out its rescue boats in case that a pilot would fall short of the aircraft carrier and had to ditch into the water to be rescued. Fortunately, all the pilots had enough fuel to get to the aircraft carrier. After each one touched down, they waited for the others to arrive. Once everybody arrived, the 12 pilots then went to one of the USS Tranquility's briefing rooms, which had been reserved for them when they got on the carrier.

3 Hours Later...

"Alright men," spoke Heathrow, "Now that we're with the convoy, it's time for another briefing." As Heathrow was talking with his fellow pilots, the USS Tranquility's radio operator gave him a document and whispered something into his ear. "Guys," spoke Heathrow, "There's been an update in this mission."

"What is it?" spoke Ezekiel.

"7th Squadron's not coming in," spoke Heathrow, "The last contact with them was at 0830 Hours. We believe that they're off somewhere scouting."

"Scouting what?" spoke Tori.

"According to the document," spoke Heathrow, "At 0630 Hours, 7th Squadron took off to scout for enemies. At exactly 0745 hours, the 7th started to run into radio interference due to the wind, which we experienced during our arrival. At 0815 Hours, the radio operator heard only garbled messages, then at 0830 Hours, all radio contact abruptly ceased."

"It's as if they vanished into thin air," a concerned Mikasa spoke, "How could they be there one minute and the next, POOF! They're gone! That's fucking impossible!"

"I cannot believe it!" she continued, "How the fuck can a group of elite USAAF pilots disappear without a single damn trace?! I call bullshit on that, that's too impossible for me to comprehend!"

"What if they ran into something?" spoke Armin.

"We currently don't know, Armin," spoke Heathrow. "As of now, ATC is trying to re-establish a radio connection." As soon as Heathrow said that, the ship's klaxons started to blare.

"What's going on?!" yelled Zelda, "What's happening?!"

Then she heard an announcement over the ship's P.A system: "All personnel, this is not a drill! Repeat, this is not a drill! All hands on deck! All hands on deck! All pilots, please report to the flight deck!"

"We're under attack!" shouted Link.

"Heathrow," spoke Ash, "What's your decision?"

"You know the drill, guys," spoke Heathrow, "Meet me on the flight deck. We're going to meet our attackers face to face and show them why they don't mess with us. Understand?"

"Yes sir," all 11 pilots, including Ash, chorused in unison. The entire squadron, including Heathrow, then went to the flight deck, got into their planes, and flew off to counter the enemy fleet along with the other planes.