Chapter 8
Intel
Forward Operations Base "Catalina"
"Vanguard 1, you are cleared to make your final approach," the tower said. Katrina lined up her fighter on the approach and tentatively lowered her landing gear. The thud followed by the squeal of the tires as she eased her fighter was always a satisfying feeling, from an F/C-16 to an Sk.27, and now an F/S-15. It never changed, unlike so many things in the world, which could change in a heartbeat. That was why she loved flying.
She taxied over to the hangar and shut down her engines. She popped the canopy and was greeted with the roar of the jet engines as she saw Peppermint's Agile Eagle touch down. She gracefully climbed out of the cockpit and lowered herself to the ground as she approached the F/C-16 that was Frost's. There was a whine from the engines as the Viper shut down, and the canopy opened to reveal the pilot.
Frost was an average-built woman, with icy blue eyes and a golden flock of hair that reached down towards her shoulders. Her helmet wasn't decorated. Probably she hadn't bothered to decorate it in her time as a mercenary. She then spotted her and smiled.
"Thanks for the save," she said. "As promised, here is the intel." She reached into her flight suit and pulled out a small USB stick.
"I hope that was worth it, miss," a voice interrupted her. Frost turned around and saw Twister approach them. "All that for a small stick of gum? You must be really brave." Frost just glared at him.
"I told you to watch your tongue," she said, flashing the USB stick at him. "I hope your base commander has the decency that you don't."
"Miss Frost?"
They turned around to the source of the new voice. Commander Mckay had come over to them.
"Ah," Frost said. "You must be the base commander."
"That's correct," Mckay said. "Welcome to the Federation. I assume you have our intel?"
"Right here," Frost said, handing the USB to him, and pulled out a smaller laminated card. "Codes to access the firewalls and security measures I have put in place."
"Good," Mckay said, taking both the USB and the laminated card. "Now, I know this might come as a surprise, but you are to remain in our custody while we dig through the intel. We can't have you lead the Cabal to us."
"I expected that," Frost said, as two MPs came over to her. She didn't even flinch as they slapped a pair of restraints on her. "But you might find things on there that are surprising even to you."
X
"I wonder what is taking Mckay and the others so long," Katrina said. It was a while after they had landed. They were gathered in the lounge of the base, kicking back after the mission. Katrina took a gulp of coffee from her cheap cup. To conserve supplies during wartime situations, the Federation bared personnel from bringing in personal items like coffee mugs, but they all knew that it was to preserve Federation morale by only allowing pilots to buy things that originated in the Federation. Even things like paper plates had to be bought in the convenience store at the base.
All just to keep the war going, Katrina thought, finishing her coffee and throwing the cup in the trash.
"I imagine that USB must be heavily encrypted," Peppermint said. "To prevent mercenaries from accessing from whatever documents that are inside it."
"Why?" Twister said. "If she was shot down, the USB would have been destroyed on impact. And even if she ejected, it would only be a matter of time before the mercenaries scooped her up."
"Like I said, she claimed that she was a good pilot," Peppermint said, opening a small candy and popping it in his mouth. "I guess that claim was true."
"She just flew in a straight line with me!" Twister said. "She didn't pull any maneuvers or something!"
"She was trying to flee from the mercenaries," Peppermint said. "Of course, she had to fly fast. No wonder, she was lightly armed and strapped down with fuel. Speed was her first priority."
"Tch. And her nickname. The Cold Wind." Twister chucked his empty cup towards the trash can, but it bounced off. Katrina picked it up and put it in. "She was flying a souped-up Viper, not pulling any dogfight maneuvers. I know that she was lightly armed to preserve fuel, but at least pull some defensive maneuvers in case something came up, like a missile lock."
"Wait till we put her in an actual fighter like an F/C-15 or an Sk.," Peppermint said. "Then she can really do some damage."
Katrina sighed. It was barely noon and she already felt weary. If only this place had some decent beer, then she would be wide awake.
Coming out of the Academy wasn't an easy task for her in her later years. Work piles gave way to a rampant alcohol addiction fueled by late work nights and stress that saw her in the hospital wing quite a number of times because of intoxication. Eventually, she was banned from buying any sort of alcohol on base, but she visited the local bars almost every night in the city to get a feel of drinking. She kicked the habit to the metaphorical curb once exam season rolled around, and ended up lower than expected, which led to her flying that rugged F/C-16 for years before being deployed here.
Still, under the pretense of critical intel in that USB, she didn't feel like breaking out the moonshine cases yet.
Just then, they perked at the sound of footsteps coming towards them, and soon enough, Commander Mckay poked his head in.
"Vanguard, we have just finished decoding the intel on the USB, and it is not looking good. Come." He beckoned to them. They followed him to the computer room, where they saw Alamo and Tillmin hunched over one of the monitors, where a window full of schematics and battle plans, possibly swiped from the mercenaries before Frost fled. A separate window was filled with code as the firewalls to the USB were penetrated.
"For a merc, she is a very good hacker," Alamo said, typing the last of the access codes into place. "There are firewalls I couldn't have breached without her access codes."
"Yeah," Tillmin said, bending over to analyze the screen. "Better keep her away from here, or otherwise she could leak our military secrets to the Cabal."
"Well, thanks to the commander's security protocols, that is unlikely to happen," Peppermint said.
"So, what's on that thing?" Katrina asked, eager to hear something for once.
Tillmin and Alamo shifted uncomfortably before Alamo spoke up. "The files that Frost claimed to have on the USB contain the reason why we have been losing the war during the initial stages." He pulled up a window, and Katrina saw multiple lines that suggested a radio frequency. "Like what Dragur 1 told you during your dogfight, the mercenaries have been getting people to hack into the Federation channels and expose our movements with one another, even on the most secure channels."
"So they have been listening to us the whole time?" Twister said. "Jeez. No wonder they could read our minds."
"It only gets worse," Tillmin said. "The mercenaries have been receiving support for members of the Royal Oceania Guard, and according to this dossier, they now appear to be operating a quartet of airships."
"What?" Katrina cried. She couldn't believe that the mercenaries were being supplied with airships. That was about worse as a tribal warrior armed with an RPG. "How the hell are they getting these things?"
"Possible intel points towards the Oceanians supplying them with ships from their aerial fleet," Tillmin said, watching Alamo navigate through more windows. "Their aerial fleet hasn't been up to scratch this whole conflict. I've seen several squadrons carve up their airships like it's nothing."
"You also had to contend with civilian traffic," Alamo said, navigating through more windows. "If even one of their ships got damaged, now we have to contend with international responses. Our territories will secede faster than water evaporating in the sun." He finally finished typing and slammed the enter key. The final contents of the USB were shown: Schematics of the ships currently in the mercenary fleet, mercenary formations from the start of the war up until the day Katrina and Vanguard shot down those bombers heading to the forward operations base, and more importantly, a date on when the next operation was going to be taking place.
"That's…tomorrow," Katrina realized.
"Yup," Alamo said, cradling his stomach like he had a bad stomachache. "And the worst part is, they are bringing in the entire welcome wagon. Every single mercenary fighter not assigned to Sydney is coming to wipe out the Federation is a mass air attack."
"Well, we better get ready then," Mckay said. "I'll alert regional command." He left the room, leaving Vanguard, Tillmin, and Alamo to stare at the impending doomsday counter.