Title: Home and Heart
A Buffy the Vampire Slayer story.
By: Ghostrider
Summary: What happens when your heart is ripped apart by those you love? A slayerette's return after years of absence causes old wounds to be ripped open.
Rating: R
Authors Notes: This story takes place approximately 8 years after the events in the this season's last episode. Personally, I don't like the ending, it's too convenient. So I rewrote it to what I would have wanted to see. Furthermore, I would like to thank my Beta-readers Ozmandayus, Banquo and Scb047 for everything they've done.
Also, this part contains slight references to Pensacola: Wings of Gold and it's characters, notable, the second season of the series.
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon, Fox, Mutant Enemy, the WB and UPN own the characters.
Chapter 1
"Easy, Gunny! Deep breathes! Come on, deep breaths."
Wild eyes darting around the room. Room? He was in a room! Grey walls, steel bulkheads. With a groan, he fell back onto his sweat-soaked bunk, putting a hand over his eyes.
"You okay, Gunny?"
He looked up at the worried faces of his bunkmate and the squadron's XO.
"Yeah, I'm fine."
"No, you're not. This is the fifth time this week you've had this nightmare."
"Spoon, I said I'm fine! It's just a nightmare, okay?"
"Spoon?"
The pilot looked back at his friend, nodding as she cocked her head towards the door. After closing the bulkhead behind him, Ice sat down on the bunk, resting a hand on her friend's shoulder.
"This has been going on for a while now, hasn't it?"
"What do you mean?"
"These nightmares. Remember when we had to hotbunk in Barcelona? At the beginning of our tour? Not enough rooms in the hotel. Drawing straws as to who would sleep with who."
"Yeah."
"It was the first time I woke up with you tossing and turning; you were breathing hard, like you were running from something bad. Talk to me, Guns."
"Nothing much to talk about. Just my past catching up to me, Captain. I wasn't always a pilot."
The young man tried to keep the tremor out of his voice, as he looked Ice straight in the eyes. Hers were boring into his with the same intensity as when she was taking in the pre-flight briefing.
"This has nothing to do with stuff you did in Recon, Gunny. I'd bet my bars on that", she answered back, a small smile conveying her worry about her friend.
"What? You're a psychologist all of a sudden? Maybe a dream-interpreter", he said, more harshly then he'd intended. The sudden spark of hurt in her eyes caused him an almost physical pain and he grabbed hold of her hand, squeezing softly.
"I'm sorry, that was out of line. You don't deserve to be on the cutting edge of the crap I'm saddled with. If you want to bring charges for verbally abusing a superior officer, I won't hold it against you. All you've been trying to do is help me and here I am, acting like a jerk. I never learn and -"
He looked up at the sound, surprised at what he saw there. Ice, the unflappable, ice-cold XO was laughing. Laughing at him, tears forming in her eyes. His anxiety at ruining another friendship faded away at the sight; she seemed to have forgotten or at least disregarded his outburst."
"Mind telling me what's so funny, Ma'am?"
Not getting an answer apart from the snickering, that turned into hiccups, he stood up and walked over to the small head, retrieving a glass of water. Handing it over to her, he started running the palm of a hand over her back.
"Better now?"
At her nod in the affirmative, he asked her again.
"Well, you were babbling. I've never heard you babble before. It's funny."
"Yep, that's me. The babbling Marine. You want to put it up on the flightboard? .... Ma'am?" he said belatedly, grinning back at her.
"No, your secret is safe with me. Listen Gunny, we'll be back in Pensacola in a week. I've checked the books, you've got almost six months of leave saved up. Take some time, talk to someone about whatever it is that's bothering you. Right now, it's getting to you, making you less then one hundred percent. When you've got it out of your system, that cockpit will still be waiting for you."
"Promise", he asked with a lopsided grin, a grin Ice decided she liked a lot better than his usual stoneface.
"Hey, you think I wanna break in a new wingman? Not a chance! Now get yourself together, briefing in a hour."
"Yes, Ma'am. Thank you, Ma'am. Anything else, Ma'am? Maybe some coffee with Danish, Ma'am?"
Deciding that she liked this lighter side of her friend more, Ice pushed Gunny into the head.
"Who are you and what did you do with the Gunny", she asked bubbling with laughter.
"Moi? Just glad to be alive is all. And the fact that a beautiful woman is pushing me into the shower. Now if that doesn't present a number of possibilities", he winked at her, suddenly feeling like a weight had been lifted from his chest, at least for a little while.
"Get in there and shower, maybe that'll clear your head. I'm tempted to drag your sorry six to sickbay to make sure you've not hit your head, Guns", she replied with a grin, matching his own.
Closing the door and getting under the hot spray of water, he thought about the dream. Every nightmare he'd had since starting this deployment had been a variation of one of his missions. The only thing they had in common was the ending, the huge unknown demon tearing his teammates apart and mocking him, telling him he couldn't save them. Had he been anyone else, he would have done it off as the inevitable bad dreams every soldier had about past happenings. Every one of them carried some dark memories with them, of people they'd lost. Things that should have been done differently so those that had died wouldn't have.
One thing about the Hellmouth was that you didn't take dreams at face value, especially not when there was a huge killer demon in them. Thinking back to Ice's words, he made the hardest decision he'd ever had to make in his 29 years. He was going back to Sunnydale. Finishing his shower and shave, he dressed quickly, zipping up his flightsuit. As he was about to leave his quarters, he glanced back, noticing his laptop. Closing the door again, he sat behind the small desk, starting up the computer and calling up his email program. If he was going back and his dreams were prophetic, then he was going to need some things to even the odds.
*** 0900 GMT Pilot's briefing room, USS Carl Vinson ***
"Feeling better, Guns?"
"Yes, Spoon, sorry about that."
"'S okay. It's just.... "
The young lieutenant could see that his bunkmate had problems with whatever it was he wanted to say, so he pulled him towards a corner of the rapidly filling room.
"Sir, just spit it out, whatever it is. I promise I won't hurt you. Too badly", he finished with a grin.
Laughing slightly at the joke, Spoon shook his head, feeling better about what he was going to say.
"Kate asked me to look after you. She was worried about you. Said she could see there were things that were weighing you down."
Taking a deep breath, remembering the gorgeous blonde that ran the aviator's hangout near the base, Gunny was again struck how well she'd come to know him. Although the only times they'd spent together were when he and the rest of his squadron were at the Bucket, she'd seen through his shields from the beginning. He and Kate had become fast friends after some initial awkwardness and that friendship had strengthened over time with frequent letters and emails as he went on his first deployment. It seemed like every Naval Aviator and Marine Pilot cycling through Pensacola fell partly in love with her and numerous were the stories of her helping them out with problems of various kinds.
"That woman should start a psychologist's practice, she'd make a fortune. Sir, things are okay. I just had to work some things out in my head, stuff I had pushed away. Guess the stuff didn't take too kindly to that. I'm gonna take some leave to put everything in order."
"I hope you're gonna tell her yourself before you go off, coz I'm not looking forward to her grilling me about you. She'd make the spooks look like amateurs", Spoon said, smiling.
"Sir, if all spooks looked like her, who'd care?"
Both men laughed at that, acknowledging the truth as they headed to their usual seats for today's pre-flight briefing.
*** 0915 GMT, Flight Deck, USS Carl Vinson ***
The aircraft handlers had already hooked the aircraft up to the catapults, the blast barriers had been raised and flight control was making sure that everything was in order before giving the go ahead for launch. Gunny checked to his starboard side, giving the thumbs-up signal to Ice, sitting in the other Hornet. Today's mission was a High Cap – Low Cap Patrol; 4 Super Tomcats and 4 Hornets would be flying the outer perimeter of the carrier group. The faster Tomcats would go low after topping off their tanks from the orbiting tankers, the Hornets quarterbacking them from high-altitude.
Using their radar, the Hornets would actively search the area, while the Tomcats, radar shut down but guided by the Hawkeye aircraft would immediately dive for the deck once potential threats had been located. Going supersonic, they'd pop up behind the bogeys, lighting up their radar and take them out, then dive for the deck again, not giving any trailing second group a chance to get a shot off. Today's victims would be a flight of Air Force jockeys, flying Strike Eagles.
Seeing the go-signal, both pilots cranked the engines to full afterburner, just as the catapults engaged, shoving them violently into their seats. It was as if their bodies had gained 9 times their own weight in a fraction of a second as the Hornets were thrown forward off the deck, dipping towards the ocean. Quickly pulling the stick back, both aircraft leaped upwards, joining the two others already there.
"Nice of you two to join us. Traffic backed up again?"
"No, we were having high tea, Burner."
"Tea? Please, how can you drink that slush?"
"It's not slush, Burner, it has a nice calming effect. You should try it sometime."
"Are you saying I'm restless, Ice?"
"Knock it off, people. We've got Momma Bear coming up."
"Gunny, you're no fun. No fun at all."
"Burner, you should know by now that I'm here to keep you guys focused. You and Spoon up for it, or you need someone to hold your hand?"
"Bite me, Gunny. Let the master show you how it's done."
"Master of self-deception, most likely", Ice added as the foursome came up behind the two converted A6's.
Slowly moving in, Burner slid behind the basket, the drogue of his aircraft out and slowly moving it into position. The drogue clicked, lighting up the fuel panel as aircraft fuel began to flow into its tanks.
"Who's the master now, hey?"
"Settle down, boy! No need to get all excited there", Spoon said, as he too locked on and began transferring fuel from the A6.
"Momma Bear 1 thanks you. It is unseemly to be so loud so early in the morning", the pilot of the A6 said through the radio. "Now, drink up boys. We need you to be strong and healthy this fine morning. Want momma to sing you a song?"
At that, the pilot got into a roaring rendition of "You've lost that loving feeling", causing the Marine pilots to scream out in mock agony. At the same time, Gunny and Ice had connected with the second A6 and were taking on fuel.
"We can't take them anywhere, Gunny."
"Remind me to have the doc remove Navy's vocal cords. This should be considered cruel and unusual punishment."
Laughter was his only answer.
*** 1237 GMT, USS Carl Vinson ***
The Hornet's main gear touched down with a hard thud, jarring the pilot hard enough to feel his teeth rattle. Almost immediately, the tailhook grabbed hold of the Number 3 arrestor wire, slowing the Hornet to zero knots in the blink of an eye, throwing the pilot's body forward, the harness cutting into his flesh. As the hook pulled up, releasing the wire, he maneuvered towards the side of the deck, in line to the other Hornets of the patrol. Getting out, Gunny could hear Burner's loud berating of himself, bringing a small grin to his face. Burner always had been cocky and with good reason. He was very good. But even the best needed a lesson in humility now and again.
"Calm down, Burner, you're not doing yourself any good this way. Accept that they had you and move on. Another lesson learned."
"Come on, Ice, they cheated! There was no mention of them using Raptors! We should have won! They can't do this."
"Apparently, they did, Burner. And as to the not mentioning bit, they aren't supposed to give us any details. Now, if you had waited a bit until the Tomcats got into position, you might have gotten the call in time. As it is, you brought your wingman and yourself into a dangerous situation. A situation that got you both killed, I might add, not to mention Ice and myself. And about 4000 men and women aboard this vessel", Gunny said, staring the agitated First Lieutenant in the face.
The whole carrier group was still reeling from the fact that two B1's had pulled a kamikaze while the outer perimeter was in embroiled in air battles and hit the carrier with a mad dash, ten feet above the waves. The Air Force had decided to test a new jamming device aboard an EC-135 that had completely blanketed the powerful airsearch radar of the escort vessels. They had only burned through it when the two bombers had reached the halfway point of the inner perimeter. By that time, it had been too late as both aircraft had launched a flurry of simulated anti-ship missiles, hitting both the stern as well as the bow and amidships of the carrier. Had it been real, the pilots would have no place to land and would have to splash their aircraft.
Burner was still complaining as they walked towards the briefing room; a subdued atmosphere greeted them there. Gone were the cocky displays of bravado, as one by one, aviators and pilots sat down. Getting your six kicked so soundly had a tendency to do that to you.
"Attention on Deck!"
All present jumped up from their seats, standing at attention as the CAG strode in, his face set in a tight frown.
"At ease."
As the others in the room sat down, the CAG began pacing in front of them, looking at each crewmember's face.
"Today, we got our sixes kicked. It won't happen again, understood?"
"Sir, yes sir!"
"Damn straight! The Air Force won this battle through cunning and skill. Well, we don't have their level of equipment but we can do just as well, better even. Tomorrow, another drill will be run. Day after, the same, until we reach port. They ain't gonna hit us the same way twice, they're not that stupid. Remember that. Ask yourself where it went wrong, then work on that. Go over every piece of information we have, think like them and look for weaknesses in our defense. You are the defensive line-up, people. Let's make them pay!"
"Sir, yes sir!"
"Ice, your flight had the north-western approach. What the hell happened out there?"
Ice stood up and walked to the map at the front of the room, drawing a circle around the area her flight of 6 had operated in.
"Sir, we detected a flight of two F-15 Echoes on a 12 o'clock heading on our radar. The Low Cap Patrol immediately dove to low-level flight and came up behind the bogeys. Burner immediately closed in from their 12 o'clock, to close up the trap. They reversed it, by performing a 9-G turn and diving for the deck as the Tomcats came up behind them. The Tomcats then were pounced on by two Raptors, who were flying in tight with the Echoes. That's why the Hawkeye didn't see them on radar.
The Echoes got into a steep climb at full afterburner and locked onto Burner and Spoon, taking them out almost immediately. Then they turned onto Gunny and myself, with the Raptors in full pursuit. We couldn't see them on the radar until the Hawkeye acquired them, but by then it was too late. I got painted and Gunny got it a few minutes after that after taking out one Echo."
"Estimated time of the engagement, Captain?"
"4 minutes, CAG."
"Try 2 minutes, 45 seconds. You hear that? 2 minutes, 45 seconds, people. That is how long it took to take out 6 aircraft. Had this been a real engagement, not only would this ship be at the bottom of the sea right now, but none of you would know. Why, you ask? Because you are all DEAD! D-E-A-D! They caught us with our pants down, and shoved it up our sixes."
The quiet of the room was even more enhanced after the CAG's outburst as everybody realized what he'd said. The Air Force had scored a clean kill, taking out all the patrols AND the carrier with minimal losses. Without it, the carrier group was just a collection of cruiser, destroyers and frigates. Powerful enough by itself, but not able to project that power behind the horizon. The only consolation they had was that right now, the admiral in charge of the group was reaming out the ship's commanders for their failure to stop the Lancers from penetrating the perimeter and giving adequate backup to the fighters; they in turn would do the same to their respective crews. It was not enough from the hard truth though. They had failed, utterly and completely. Gunny felt it again, like he had for years, that feeling of being the world's biggest failure. No matter how hard he worked at banishing it, it was still there, still worming its way through the back of his brain, mocking him. Even though his conscious told him it was nonsense, his subconscious was not letting him off the hook. With a sigh, he went to his quarters to get cleaned up, then get started on the analysis of today's events. This brought back memories of hours spent pouring over ancient books, researching the occult in order to stop the next big bad and his bad mood sunk even lower. Yeah, it was gonna be a great day today.
A Buffy the Vampire Slayer story.
By: Ghostrider
Summary: What happens when your heart is ripped apart by those you love? A slayerette's return after years of absence causes old wounds to be ripped open.
Rating: R
Authors Notes: This story takes place approximately 8 years after the events in the this season's last episode. Personally, I don't like the ending, it's too convenient. So I rewrote it to what I would have wanted to see. Furthermore, I would like to thank my Beta-readers Ozmandayus, Banquo and Scb047 for everything they've done.
Also, this part contains slight references to Pensacola: Wings of Gold and it's characters, notable, the second season of the series.
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon, Fox, Mutant Enemy, the WB and UPN own the characters.
Chapter 1
"Easy, Gunny! Deep breathes! Come on, deep breaths."
Wild eyes darting around the room. Room? He was in a room! Grey walls, steel bulkheads. With a groan, he fell back onto his sweat-soaked bunk, putting a hand over his eyes.
"You okay, Gunny?"
He looked up at the worried faces of his bunkmate and the squadron's XO.
"Yeah, I'm fine."
"No, you're not. This is the fifth time this week you've had this nightmare."
"Spoon, I said I'm fine! It's just a nightmare, okay?"
"Spoon?"
The pilot looked back at his friend, nodding as she cocked her head towards the door. After closing the bulkhead behind him, Ice sat down on the bunk, resting a hand on her friend's shoulder.
"This has been going on for a while now, hasn't it?"
"What do you mean?"
"These nightmares. Remember when we had to hotbunk in Barcelona? At the beginning of our tour? Not enough rooms in the hotel. Drawing straws as to who would sleep with who."
"Yeah."
"It was the first time I woke up with you tossing and turning; you were breathing hard, like you were running from something bad. Talk to me, Guns."
"Nothing much to talk about. Just my past catching up to me, Captain. I wasn't always a pilot."
The young man tried to keep the tremor out of his voice, as he looked Ice straight in the eyes. Hers were boring into his with the same intensity as when she was taking in the pre-flight briefing.
"This has nothing to do with stuff you did in Recon, Gunny. I'd bet my bars on that", she answered back, a small smile conveying her worry about her friend.
"What? You're a psychologist all of a sudden? Maybe a dream-interpreter", he said, more harshly then he'd intended. The sudden spark of hurt in her eyes caused him an almost physical pain and he grabbed hold of her hand, squeezing softly.
"I'm sorry, that was out of line. You don't deserve to be on the cutting edge of the crap I'm saddled with. If you want to bring charges for verbally abusing a superior officer, I won't hold it against you. All you've been trying to do is help me and here I am, acting like a jerk. I never learn and -"
He looked up at the sound, surprised at what he saw there. Ice, the unflappable, ice-cold XO was laughing. Laughing at him, tears forming in her eyes. His anxiety at ruining another friendship faded away at the sight; she seemed to have forgotten or at least disregarded his outburst."
"Mind telling me what's so funny, Ma'am?"
Not getting an answer apart from the snickering, that turned into hiccups, he stood up and walked over to the small head, retrieving a glass of water. Handing it over to her, he started running the palm of a hand over her back.
"Better now?"
At her nod in the affirmative, he asked her again.
"Well, you were babbling. I've never heard you babble before. It's funny."
"Yep, that's me. The babbling Marine. You want to put it up on the flightboard? .... Ma'am?" he said belatedly, grinning back at her.
"No, your secret is safe with me. Listen Gunny, we'll be back in Pensacola in a week. I've checked the books, you've got almost six months of leave saved up. Take some time, talk to someone about whatever it is that's bothering you. Right now, it's getting to you, making you less then one hundred percent. When you've got it out of your system, that cockpit will still be waiting for you."
"Promise", he asked with a lopsided grin, a grin Ice decided she liked a lot better than his usual stoneface.
"Hey, you think I wanna break in a new wingman? Not a chance! Now get yourself together, briefing in a hour."
"Yes, Ma'am. Thank you, Ma'am. Anything else, Ma'am? Maybe some coffee with Danish, Ma'am?"
Deciding that she liked this lighter side of her friend more, Ice pushed Gunny into the head.
"Who are you and what did you do with the Gunny", she asked bubbling with laughter.
"Moi? Just glad to be alive is all. And the fact that a beautiful woman is pushing me into the shower. Now if that doesn't present a number of possibilities", he winked at her, suddenly feeling like a weight had been lifted from his chest, at least for a little while.
"Get in there and shower, maybe that'll clear your head. I'm tempted to drag your sorry six to sickbay to make sure you've not hit your head, Guns", she replied with a grin, matching his own.
Closing the door and getting under the hot spray of water, he thought about the dream. Every nightmare he'd had since starting this deployment had been a variation of one of his missions. The only thing they had in common was the ending, the huge unknown demon tearing his teammates apart and mocking him, telling him he couldn't save them. Had he been anyone else, he would have done it off as the inevitable bad dreams every soldier had about past happenings. Every one of them carried some dark memories with them, of people they'd lost. Things that should have been done differently so those that had died wouldn't have.
One thing about the Hellmouth was that you didn't take dreams at face value, especially not when there was a huge killer demon in them. Thinking back to Ice's words, he made the hardest decision he'd ever had to make in his 29 years. He was going back to Sunnydale. Finishing his shower and shave, he dressed quickly, zipping up his flightsuit. As he was about to leave his quarters, he glanced back, noticing his laptop. Closing the door again, he sat behind the small desk, starting up the computer and calling up his email program. If he was going back and his dreams were prophetic, then he was going to need some things to even the odds.
*** 0900 GMT Pilot's briefing room, USS Carl Vinson ***
"Feeling better, Guns?"
"Yes, Spoon, sorry about that."
"'S okay. It's just.... "
The young lieutenant could see that his bunkmate had problems with whatever it was he wanted to say, so he pulled him towards a corner of the rapidly filling room.
"Sir, just spit it out, whatever it is. I promise I won't hurt you. Too badly", he finished with a grin.
Laughing slightly at the joke, Spoon shook his head, feeling better about what he was going to say.
"Kate asked me to look after you. She was worried about you. Said she could see there were things that were weighing you down."
Taking a deep breath, remembering the gorgeous blonde that ran the aviator's hangout near the base, Gunny was again struck how well she'd come to know him. Although the only times they'd spent together were when he and the rest of his squadron were at the Bucket, she'd seen through his shields from the beginning. He and Kate had become fast friends after some initial awkwardness and that friendship had strengthened over time with frequent letters and emails as he went on his first deployment. It seemed like every Naval Aviator and Marine Pilot cycling through Pensacola fell partly in love with her and numerous were the stories of her helping them out with problems of various kinds.
"That woman should start a psychologist's practice, she'd make a fortune. Sir, things are okay. I just had to work some things out in my head, stuff I had pushed away. Guess the stuff didn't take too kindly to that. I'm gonna take some leave to put everything in order."
"I hope you're gonna tell her yourself before you go off, coz I'm not looking forward to her grilling me about you. She'd make the spooks look like amateurs", Spoon said, smiling.
"Sir, if all spooks looked like her, who'd care?"
Both men laughed at that, acknowledging the truth as they headed to their usual seats for today's pre-flight briefing.
*** 0915 GMT, Flight Deck, USS Carl Vinson ***
The aircraft handlers had already hooked the aircraft up to the catapults, the blast barriers had been raised and flight control was making sure that everything was in order before giving the go ahead for launch. Gunny checked to his starboard side, giving the thumbs-up signal to Ice, sitting in the other Hornet. Today's mission was a High Cap – Low Cap Patrol; 4 Super Tomcats and 4 Hornets would be flying the outer perimeter of the carrier group. The faster Tomcats would go low after topping off their tanks from the orbiting tankers, the Hornets quarterbacking them from high-altitude.
Using their radar, the Hornets would actively search the area, while the Tomcats, radar shut down but guided by the Hawkeye aircraft would immediately dive for the deck once potential threats had been located. Going supersonic, they'd pop up behind the bogeys, lighting up their radar and take them out, then dive for the deck again, not giving any trailing second group a chance to get a shot off. Today's victims would be a flight of Air Force jockeys, flying Strike Eagles.
Seeing the go-signal, both pilots cranked the engines to full afterburner, just as the catapults engaged, shoving them violently into their seats. It was as if their bodies had gained 9 times their own weight in a fraction of a second as the Hornets were thrown forward off the deck, dipping towards the ocean. Quickly pulling the stick back, both aircraft leaped upwards, joining the two others already there.
"Nice of you two to join us. Traffic backed up again?"
"No, we were having high tea, Burner."
"Tea? Please, how can you drink that slush?"
"It's not slush, Burner, it has a nice calming effect. You should try it sometime."
"Are you saying I'm restless, Ice?"
"Knock it off, people. We've got Momma Bear coming up."
"Gunny, you're no fun. No fun at all."
"Burner, you should know by now that I'm here to keep you guys focused. You and Spoon up for it, or you need someone to hold your hand?"
"Bite me, Gunny. Let the master show you how it's done."
"Master of self-deception, most likely", Ice added as the foursome came up behind the two converted A6's.
Slowly moving in, Burner slid behind the basket, the drogue of his aircraft out and slowly moving it into position. The drogue clicked, lighting up the fuel panel as aircraft fuel began to flow into its tanks.
"Who's the master now, hey?"
"Settle down, boy! No need to get all excited there", Spoon said, as he too locked on and began transferring fuel from the A6.
"Momma Bear 1 thanks you. It is unseemly to be so loud so early in the morning", the pilot of the A6 said through the radio. "Now, drink up boys. We need you to be strong and healthy this fine morning. Want momma to sing you a song?"
At that, the pilot got into a roaring rendition of "You've lost that loving feeling", causing the Marine pilots to scream out in mock agony. At the same time, Gunny and Ice had connected with the second A6 and were taking on fuel.
"We can't take them anywhere, Gunny."
"Remind me to have the doc remove Navy's vocal cords. This should be considered cruel and unusual punishment."
Laughter was his only answer.
*** 1237 GMT, USS Carl Vinson ***
The Hornet's main gear touched down with a hard thud, jarring the pilot hard enough to feel his teeth rattle. Almost immediately, the tailhook grabbed hold of the Number 3 arrestor wire, slowing the Hornet to zero knots in the blink of an eye, throwing the pilot's body forward, the harness cutting into his flesh. As the hook pulled up, releasing the wire, he maneuvered towards the side of the deck, in line to the other Hornets of the patrol. Getting out, Gunny could hear Burner's loud berating of himself, bringing a small grin to his face. Burner always had been cocky and with good reason. He was very good. But even the best needed a lesson in humility now and again.
"Calm down, Burner, you're not doing yourself any good this way. Accept that they had you and move on. Another lesson learned."
"Come on, Ice, they cheated! There was no mention of them using Raptors! We should have won! They can't do this."
"Apparently, they did, Burner. And as to the not mentioning bit, they aren't supposed to give us any details. Now, if you had waited a bit until the Tomcats got into position, you might have gotten the call in time. As it is, you brought your wingman and yourself into a dangerous situation. A situation that got you both killed, I might add, not to mention Ice and myself. And about 4000 men and women aboard this vessel", Gunny said, staring the agitated First Lieutenant in the face.
The whole carrier group was still reeling from the fact that two B1's had pulled a kamikaze while the outer perimeter was in embroiled in air battles and hit the carrier with a mad dash, ten feet above the waves. The Air Force had decided to test a new jamming device aboard an EC-135 that had completely blanketed the powerful airsearch radar of the escort vessels. They had only burned through it when the two bombers had reached the halfway point of the inner perimeter. By that time, it had been too late as both aircraft had launched a flurry of simulated anti-ship missiles, hitting both the stern as well as the bow and amidships of the carrier. Had it been real, the pilots would have no place to land and would have to splash their aircraft.
Burner was still complaining as they walked towards the briefing room; a subdued atmosphere greeted them there. Gone were the cocky displays of bravado, as one by one, aviators and pilots sat down. Getting your six kicked so soundly had a tendency to do that to you.
"Attention on Deck!"
All present jumped up from their seats, standing at attention as the CAG strode in, his face set in a tight frown.
"At ease."
As the others in the room sat down, the CAG began pacing in front of them, looking at each crewmember's face.
"Today, we got our sixes kicked. It won't happen again, understood?"
"Sir, yes sir!"
"Damn straight! The Air Force won this battle through cunning and skill. Well, we don't have their level of equipment but we can do just as well, better even. Tomorrow, another drill will be run. Day after, the same, until we reach port. They ain't gonna hit us the same way twice, they're not that stupid. Remember that. Ask yourself where it went wrong, then work on that. Go over every piece of information we have, think like them and look for weaknesses in our defense. You are the defensive line-up, people. Let's make them pay!"
"Sir, yes sir!"
"Ice, your flight had the north-western approach. What the hell happened out there?"
Ice stood up and walked to the map at the front of the room, drawing a circle around the area her flight of 6 had operated in.
"Sir, we detected a flight of two F-15 Echoes on a 12 o'clock heading on our radar. The Low Cap Patrol immediately dove to low-level flight and came up behind the bogeys. Burner immediately closed in from their 12 o'clock, to close up the trap. They reversed it, by performing a 9-G turn and diving for the deck as the Tomcats came up behind them. The Tomcats then were pounced on by two Raptors, who were flying in tight with the Echoes. That's why the Hawkeye didn't see them on radar.
The Echoes got into a steep climb at full afterburner and locked onto Burner and Spoon, taking them out almost immediately. Then they turned onto Gunny and myself, with the Raptors in full pursuit. We couldn't see them on the radar until the Hawkeye acquired them, but by then it was too late. I got painted and Gunny got it a few minutes after that after taking out one Echo."
"Estimated time of the engagement, Captain?"
"4 minutes, CAG."
"Try 2 minutes, 45 seconds. You hear that? 2 minutes, 45 seconds, people. That is how long it took to take out 6 aircraft. Had this been a real engagement, not only would this ship be at the bottom of the sea right now, but none of you would know. Why, you ask? Because you are all DEAD! D-E-A-D! They caught us with our pants down, and shoved it up our sixes."
The quiet of the room was even more enhanced after the CAG's outburst as everybody realized what he'd said. The Air Force had scored a clean kill, taking out all the patrols AND the carrier with minimal losses. Without it, the carrier group was just a collection of cruiser, destroyers and frigates. Powerful enough by itself, but not able to project that power behind the horizon. The only consolation they had was that right now, the admiral in charge of the group was reaming out the ship's commanders for their failure to stop the Lancers from penetrating the perimeter and giving adequate backup to the fighters; they in turn would do the same to their respective crews. It was not enough from the hard truth though. They had failed, utterly and completely. Gunny felt it again, like he had for years, that feeling of being the world's biggest failure. No matter how hard he worked at banishing it, it was still there, still worming its way through the back of his brain, mocking him. Even though his conscious told him it was nonsense, his subconscious was not letting him off the hook. With a sigh, he went to his quarters to get cleaned up, then get started on the analysis of today's events. This brought back memories of hours spent pouring over ancient books, researching the occult in order to stop the next big bad and his bad mood sunk even lower. Yeah, it was gonna be a great day today.