So apparently I write better when drunk and/or high then sober lol. Was drunk off my ass when I decided "Hey *hic* let's put Ari in this *dry heave*". Us-Fucking Irish LMAO
ONE WEEK EARLIER
Caitlin Todd was not having a good night's sleep. She was tossing and turning, turning and tossing. She was in the water again. But her lungs weren't screaming for air. Her hair flowed with the water. She was standing so she was at the bottom of the sea. Her hair flowed behind her as she took a step forward. It was like she was under the surface of the ocean without the suffocation The moon shined brightly.
"Hello?" she called, then gasped. She heard her own voice as echoes. Then she realized she wasn't in the water. She was suspended in the ripple of time and space. She walked forward. Many memories played out around her. Her years in Catholic school. Teaching her Irish grandfather how to speak English. The time her parents almost got divorced over money. Her eldest brother dropping her off at her prom. Losing her virginity to her prom date later that night. The subsequent pregnancy scare. Eating lunch in her college cafeteria when the news came on about Columbine on the television. Her graduation ceremony the next month. Her induction into the Secret Service. Meeting Bill Clinton in his last year... and him slightly flirting with her because of course. Her standing outside that elementary school room as Bush was informed a second plane had hit the Trade Center. Meeting Major Timothy Kerry. Losing Kerry just after breaking up with him.
Then meeting Tony.
Then all those memories disappeared as memories of the crash flooded her entire world. The flashing lights in the cockpit. The violent maneuvers. The flares. The explosion, the spiraling. Tony saying those fateful seven words.
Do Not Let Go Of My Hand!
She could smell burning oil. Made her stomach churn. Kate keep walking, ignoring the painful memory. Eventually she came across a man. His back was turned to her.
"Excuse me?" she called. "I don't know where I am. Are you trapped in here too?"
Instead of answering, the man responded by laughing. It sounded almost like he was angry.
And what in the hell do YOU know about being trapped?
"I'm sorry?" Kate asked, taken aback.
You should be sorry, the man boomed, turning to face her. Kate's breath left her. It was Tony, but not in his usual casual or NCIS attire. He was wearing tattered rags and worn out shoes. Do you remember what I told you, Kate, as we went down? Or did that Macallan 18, three fingers, one ice cube get you so fucked up you can't remember?
Struggling to hold back tears, Kate spoke. "Yes..."
Remember when you once told me you never had a nightmare? the Tony-specter asked.
Kate nodded tearfully.
Well, you best start getting used to nightmares, Kate, Tony said, taking a step toward her into the light. His face transformed. Not a skeleton or anything. But cuts, scratches, contusions, bruises, bloody knife cuts. Even burn marks on his cheeks. Good God, is this what Tony was going through in Sabaneta? You're in one!
Kate's lip started to quiver. She couldn't imagine lasting five minutes under Ducky's knife, must less someone with malicious intent.
I gave you one job, Kate.
"Tony, I know."
ONE JOB! the scarred Tony screamed, taking a step to her. One. What was it?
"Tony, please. The suction of the plane ripped us apart. We both saw Titanic. You -"
WHAT did I tell you?
"Do not let go of your hand," she whimpered.
And now because you didn't have the strength to hold on, I'm being TORTURED in Venezuela if not already DEAD! His voice boomed when he spoke those two words. He raised a hand, reaching towards Kate. She suddenly found herself flying towards him, his hand wrapped firmly around his neck. Why me, Caitlin? Tony demanded as he began to squeeze. The blood on his face started to pour down from the wounds, the burns worsened and his eyes... Good lord, his eyes. They went from their normal emerald green to yellow with red-rims. Why ME?! Why must I suffer for YOUR failure?
"I don't know!" Kate struggled to say. Was this it? Was she gonna die at the hands of Freddy Krueger? "Tony, please!"
You don't know? Come on Kate, what's that famous female intuition telling you? After all the times I saved your ass, why should I have to suffer? Have you ever been tortured, Kate? Have you ever had a blowtorch taken to your feet? Electrocuted while being forced to stand in water and your hands shackled to the ceiling? Ever have your back whipped? HUH?! Do you know what it's like to have the flesh on your back flayed from bottom to top? DO YOU?!
"Tony! Please!"
Do you know what they've done to me?
"NOOOOO!" Caitlin screamed before suddenly launching herself upright. She raised a hand to her forehead. She was sweating like a hooker talking to a beat cop. She was in her bed in her apartment. She looked down and saw the covers and the revealing night-gown she was wearing. Ironic, considering it'd been months since she last got laid. About seven months to be precise. And it'd been six months since they'd been shot down. She recalled hearing Tony talk about his Bête Noire last year. Now she was experiencing it. She cried for a few minutes. NCIS' leads into Sabaneta went cold. The agent who was sent to Venezuela to find Tony had been arrested and swapped in a prisoner exchange but the Venezuelans still denied having Tony in their custody.
"Having a nightmare, Caitlin?" a deep foreign voice called in the darkness. Kate startled and reached for her bedside drawer before she hear the tale-tale sound of her own SIG-Sauer being cocked. "Don't bother. It was the third place I looked. I'm surprised you didn't wake up. Though, considering the nightmare you were having. Screaming DiNozzo's name. His capture really upset you, didn't it? Do I detect some survivors' guilt?"
Caitlin exhaled in exasperation before covering herself. Of course he was here. This bastard always knew how to get in place she shouldn't be in. And how to get under her skin. "Considering your contacts, I suppose you have a lot to say about that."
"Well yes," Ari admitted. "Considering I paid the locals a hefty sum to shoot you two down."
Ari smiled at the wide eyed death glare he got from Kate. "You little... You tried have me..." she closed her eyes in frustration. "Can I at least change into something more appropriate. I wasn't expected unwelcome and unwanted guests tonight."
Smiling, his gun ready to react if Kate tried anything, Ari turned and allowed her to change into something more or less casual between a US government agent and a Hamas terrorist. Was she terrified? Oh yeah. But two years on Gibbs' team had calmed her nerves. Plus the fact she had been ready to take a bullet for the President of the United States should tell anything Kate was not someone to be fucked with.
"Why did you try to have us killed?" Kate asked, latching her bra. "What could possibly make you kill us if you didn't kill me last year?"
"To cause Gibbs pain," Ari simply stated, his back still turned.
"We piss you off that much?" Kate asked as she buttoned a nice silk blouse. Tony had gotten it for her in Puerto Rico... after she gave him the riot act about that bikini he originally got her... and then asked her to wear it. He went back while he was on leave and got her a simple blouse with roses on it. Of course, referencing the tattoo banter. "Sure. Tony can be annoying as hell, but not enough to kill him."
"Oh really? What about that woman?" Ari countered, snapping his fingers to snap his memory back. "What was her name? Valerie?"
"Vanessa and she was batshit crazy," Kate said as she finished dressing. When Ari turned back around, she motioned her head to the liquor cabinet. Ari nodded and pointed at a glass, silently indicating for her to make two glasses.
"Crown Royal. I only drink the best."
"I'm impressed," Kate said. "You strike me as either a teetotaler or willing to drink any cruddy rum just to blend in."
"I mean when the op is that important, you are correct," Ari admitted, thinking about all the alcohol he had to endure to infiltrate enemy organizations. Most of them tasted like goblin piss. "But I prefer the finer tastes of life. It's too bad you never fell completely to my charm. I would've made a real wine-taster out of you."
"I'll have to pass. I don't date men like you," Kate said as she whipped out two glasses and the bottle. She poured the normal amount for Ari's glass and filled the entire glass for herself.
"Hmmm," Ari said, pursing his upper lip, impressed at the boldness. "A party animal I see."
"After having to constantly deal with your obsessing over me, yeah," Kate said as she got some ice. Ari held up two fingers. Kate nodded before mentally kicking herself for getting casual with a terrorist. She went over to him and handed him his glass. She pointed to a chair. Ari slightly nodded. "I need a fucking drink."
"After losing the love of your life I can imagine," Ari added as he sipped, which caused Kate to stop. He licked his lips. "You Americans make the best liquor as much as Agent McGee's people beg to differ. But like I told Doctor Mallard, Caitlin. Do not lie to me. I conducted surveillance on NCIS before we met and after as well. Sure you couldn't stand him at first but now everytime he'd mention a date he would go on later, you flush red with jealousy."
Kate resumed her path to her chair, trying to hide her flustered face. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Uh-huh..." Ari said, smirking. "Come on, my dear Caitlin. I've never lied to you. At least pay me the same respect. Don't worry, I'm not angry. I see the way you look at him. You're blushing right now, just thinking of DiNozzo, aren't you?"
Kate was not gonna give this murderous fuck the satisfaction. But he was right, but she wasn't going to turn on the lights and show him. "Why did Gibbs do to piss you off that bad for you to try to take us out?"
"Gibbs have the misfortune of reminding me of my bastard father," he admitted, surprising Kate by not further pushing the DiNozzo agenda.
"I love my father, so I wouldn't know what that is like," Kate said, sipping her Crown Royal. "But did your old man do to piss you off? Go out for cigarettes but not return? Use your mom like a punching bag? Never have time for school-play catch in the yard... Or did he not marry your mother at all?"
"That's what makes me a bastard, not him. From the moment of my birth, he groomed me to be one thing: his mole in Hamas. Sent me to Edinburgh to become a doctor, so I could work in the Gaza camps alongside my mother. When he had her killed, I had no trouble joining the Iz Adin al-Kassam."
"I've seen cases of men killing off their baby mamas, but to have them killed?" Kate asked. "You really believe he did that?"
"It was a retaliatory Israeli strike, on a day I was in Tel Aviv, visiting him. After decades of planning, the bastard had his mole in Hamas. He never knew how much I hated him. I wish I could see his face when he realizes he created not a mole but a monster, eager to strike at the heart of Mossad and Israel."
"Why would he do that?"
"To harden me in a ruthless killer so I wouldn't feel mercy when he would sic me on the Palestinians," Ari declared. "He wanted me to hurt my own kind. My mother was Palestinian. I may have the Director of Mossad as my father, but if I may paraphrase your General Robert Lee, 'I could never raise my sword against Palestine'. That's why I turned on my own father."
She took a sip. "You know. I almost feel sorry for you. Almost."
"And I for you. When Ziva told me you were planning on organizing a rescue mission in Caracas, I couldn't believe it. Such a romantic touch. Almost too good to pass up." He smirked. "Well... almost."
"I wasn't lying," Kate said, eyeing her drink. She was already starting to feel it. She rotated the glass in her hand, watching the brown liquid dance. "So why did you pass it up?"
"I need you to commit suicide with your own gun. The grief and the booze sent you over the edge. You never did give me enough credit in our game. I knew it was a trap before Ziva told me you asked her to cover you. You'd never trust Ziva. You Americans don't trust anyone of foreign birth." He smiled again, redrawing his gun. "And you need to kill me, to taste the sweetness of revenge."
"So after all this time, now you're just gonna kill me?" Kate asked. She was surprisingly calm, considering she was about to die. Sure, she'd been drinking but she also was absolutely done with Ari's shit.
"Before I do, you should know something," Ari said as he approached her in her chair. "Your man Anthony. He's planning an escape, you know?"
Kate breathed a sigh of relief. "What?"
"I don't know when or how. My contact always sent me cryptic messages, even for a spy. Course, who knows? We shall see, no?" He raised the gun at her. "I'll see you in the Afterlife."
"As a Catholic, I've killed enough men in my life," Caitlin Todd declared, finally making direct eye-contact with Ari Haswari. "I'm gonna enjoy watching you fucking die."
Ari pulled back the hammer on the SIG. "I'm so sorry, Caitlin, but you won't be there when-"
Kate closed her eyes as glass shattered simultaneously with the roar a high-powered rifle shot. A thud sounded a second later. Taking a sip, she looked up from her glass. There Ari lay on the floor, eyes wide open as a pool of blood trickled from a steaming bullet hole in his forehead. She downed her glass and got up to go to the kitchen.
"You owe me a new window, Gibbs," she said as she poured herself another drink.
"I know," her boss' voice said in her earpiece. She also heard him clear the chamber of his rifle.
PRESENT
SEPTEMBER 26, 2005
VENEZUELA
Tony found a pair of binders and cuffed Gomez. Binders in a prison, like peanut butter and jelly, he thought. Now that's what you call ironic.
Bracing him against the Tony with his new SIG, he slowly opened the door. The alarm rang louder in his ears as he left the office. A guard charged up the stairs at him, firing a shot. Tony dodged and spun to shoot him twice, once in the heart and the head. The man briefly cried out before falling dead on the balcony. Tony kept his gun up as he approached the body. Seeing no one approaching the stairs up to him, he relaxed enough to commander the man's gun. It was a H&K MP5A3 submachine gun. The Germans sure knew how to make guns. He clicked the paddle reason to check the magazine. 40 round magazine with just one less bullet. Tony searched the man's belt and found two more magazines. That meant he had 119 rounds.
"Now I have a machine gun," Tony told himself as he put the magazine back in. "Ho, Ho, Ho."
"Italiano!" a voice cried from below. Tony went over to the railing and saw Jose waving at him with one hand while he accepted a commandeered FN-FNC from a comrade.
"Jose!" Tony called as he slid down the stairs, his ass gliding down the railing.
"What the hell happened?" Jose asked as Tony came to him. "We were supposed to do this next midnight, quietly..."
Tony shook his head. "No. Gomez knew." He motioned at his pistol. "Took this off him after he tried to kill me with it. Someone must've broke under torture. There's no turning back now. We gotta advance El Gran Plan by, I guess," he looked at his watchless wrist, "12 hours."
"Orale, Italiano," Jose shook his head, alarms still blaring. "Let's go then. Let's get the fuck out of here."
"Right," Tony agreed and they went off. Sweeping hallway by hallway, the rioters surprisingly encountered few armed guards, mostly armed with hand guns or FN FNC and the occasional MP5. Tony used his rounds sparingly, operating in semi-auto mode. He wasn't in America, he couldn't spray and as he did as a cop and federal agent. Here, he was an insurrectionist by the VZ government's standards.
"Ascend from darkness, Jose!" Tony called as he checked his weapons. After looting the slain guards, he had over three hundred rounds and a few flashbangs.
"Right," Jose called right behind him. The men gathered near an elevator. After crowding in, Jose hit the top button. The elevator shuttered as it came to life and started the escapees ascension. An older Venezuelan turned and looked at Tony in the crowded elevator.
"Jose, you sure you can trust this American?" a Venezuelan asked Jose, trying to whisper. Tony heard him, but it seemed more the man was counting on the stereotype of Americans not speaking Spanish. It didn't matter. Tony guessed it would be natural to be suspicious of a citizen of an enemy state. Were Tony in an American prison and if he encountered a Russian-born inmate, he'd naturally be suspicious. Jose's response made Tony smile.
"With my life," Jose said in proud English to all the men. "He and us are not so different. We may still be Scandinavian-style socialists, and Tony is an agent of decadent capitalism, but we are the same in a way. We oppose Chavez's authoritarianism and we both want to escape to America. In that, we are united." Jose placed his hands on the shoulders of both Tony and the skeptical Venezuelan. "We are all countrymen without a cause. Betrayed. Forgotten. Abandoned. In Sabaneta, we are all brothers."
Tony looked at the Venezuelan sky. He raised his eyebrows in a way that asked if they were cool. The man nodded. Tony considered extending his hand but then thought that would be pushing. He returned the nod and the men embraced themselves for the warmth of the sun. Tony dug into his pocket for the cell phone he swiped off Gomez.
WASHINGTON DC
RUSSELL-KNOX BUILDING
NCIS HQ
6:30 PM EST
Leroy Jethro Gibbs was looking over some paperwork from a case as the day was dying down. After almost fifteen years at NCIS, he always expected something unexpected to happen. He was used to it. For once, he'd be grateful it happened again that night. McGee was in the break room and Kate was next to him on her computer. She was staring at the drawing she made of Tony. The twentieth one she'd done more than a month. Sighing, she realized that Rachel may be on to something about how she felt about him. She sure didn't deny that she missed him. Tony was an annoying bastard, but he had worked his charm so now life wasn't the same without him. Like she said to McGee, he was like a puppy that poops on the rug. No matter how mad you'd be at him, you still love him.
Then Kate's phone rang. She reached for her desk phone but upon further inspection she realized it wasn't her desk phone that was ringing. It was her cell phone in her desk drawer.
Slamming the desk phone back, frustrated from her disruption. She opened the drawer, shuffled through the contents and finally found her flip phone. The number was obviously foreign. She was about to hang up... but something in the back of her head told her maybe she should answer. She didn't know what it was. Maybe it was a chance to cuss out those idiot spammers who claimed to be able to help with her student loan debt... that she didn't have. Thanks Mom and Dad, she thought. Kate had the privilege of growing up in a somewhat upper middle class family before the coming Great Recession.
"NCIS Special Agent Caitlin Todd," she answered. This better be good. She was not prepared for what she heard in response.
"KATE!" the voice screamed, complimented by the sound of gunfire.
Kate's heart threatened to literally jump out of her chest. That voice. She knew that voice. That Long Island accent was a dead giveaway. Without even thinking, she jumped out of her seat and up to her feet, knocking off her pen cup and desk phone. This sudden somewhat standing at attention caught Gibbs attention.
"Tony?!" she almost cried. Gibbs' eyes widened as he was already out of his desk and coming to her. "Tony is that you?"
"Kate, I'm so glad to hear your voice after all this time!" Some bullets whistled by on Tony's end. Some gunshots indicated Tony had a gun too... and was firing back. "Prepare yourselves, boys!" What sounded like ancient metals doors scrapping against a stone floor boomed out of her cell phone.
"Tony! You're alive!" Kate exclaimed. Gibbs motioned for her to put him on speaker. Kate pushed the speaker button. "I hear gunshots! Where are you?"
"Venezeula!" Tony shouted over the continuing sounds of gunfire. Gibbs heard Tony gasping as he ran. He could hear the sounds of men running next to him. It reminded of the sounds of men running for cover over his head seat back in Kuwait while he would provide sniper cover fire. "Hold on one second." Tony apparently stopped running and fired what sounded like a H&K MP5. Tony had gotten some firepower. Some nearby fire told him his companions had some assault rifles as well. Tony's next words were apparently meant for both his nearby companions and some people far off. "Alright, muchachos! Keep your heads down and get over here! Jose, Chuey! Provide some cover fire! On my mark!" A brief pause ensued, though the gun fire continued. "NOW! ANDALE, CABRONS, ANDALE! ORALE GUEY!"
The sound of MP5, FN-FNC and pistol fire intensified. More footsteps. This wasn't a prison break. It was a full scale military battle. This was Ari was talking about. Credit where credit was due, the bastard was right. She hated to admit it, but it seemed Ari's contact inside the Venezuelan system wasn't bullshitting anyone. Of course, only Tony could rile up people enough to do a prison break.
"DiNozzo!" Gibbs barked.
"Boss?!" He actually sounded surprised to hear Gibbs.
"Yeah," Gibbs took the phone while motioning for Kate to get McGee. Kate made a b-line for the break room. "What the hell is going on?"
"Me and... ah shit... a bunch of Sabaneta prisoners are doing, well, have done, a prison break. We're in the streets of... fuck. Where are we?... Maracaibo. Jose, come on! There's an airstrip nearby. Hot-wire whatever care you can find!" Tony gasped for breath. "Shit, we got VZs on our tail. Drive! Vamanos de la chingada!" Gibbs heard the turning over a car engine via hot-wire, revving, followed by the squeal of tires as the vehicle accelerated. "There's an airstrip nearby. We're gonna take whatever planes we can and fly to Miami. We got some pilots with us. TURN THIS THING AROUND!"
Gibbs heard more tire squealing. Whoever was driving had hit the brakes, but the car wasn't stopping. It sounded as if the driver had turned the wheel and was sliding across the road in a turning motion. Gibbs heard the driver put the gear in drive and slam on the gas. Whatever car they were using revved and picked up incredible speed. McGee was coming back with Kate in front of him. Gibbs snapped his fingers at McGee's computer and mouthed 'Gitmo'. McGee understood he meant fast express plane tickets to Gitmo but hesitated with a puzzled look. Gibbs snapped his fingers again. McGee understood that either an explanation would come later or not at all. But the key to a good career at NCIS was never keep Gibbs waiting.
"Boss, we're approaching the airfield now. We're probably gonna lose ya once we get airborne!"
"DiNozzo, you stay safe and get home safe. Look out for those who are with you. They're your men now. But get home in one piece."
"I will, boss. McGee, you there?"
"I'm here, Tony."
"You owe me a drink if I get out of this in one piece!"
"Make it back here," McGee tried not to laugh and cry. "And I'll buy your drinks for a month."
"You've got a deal, McGee! I'll see you in Miami. FUCK! KEEP US ON THE ROAD, CHUEY!"
"Get off my ass, Italiano."
"The federales are gonna be on our asses if you don't keep us on the road!"
Kate took back her phone, walking over to the huge window overlooking the NCIS property. "Tony... I... Back in Paraguay..."
"Yeah?" There was tire squeal indicating a sharp turn. "Jose, get that guy off our asses!" Someone in the back fired a sub machine gun from the back seat, probably the VZ police or army.
"I never got to tell you... I..." Kate was begging herself not to cry as she looked out the windows. It was slightly raining but the sun was starting to shine through the darkness.
"I know, Kate. I know. Tell me in person when I get back."
"Tony, please come home. It's been I'll - you - Mi-. If we can't - I'll see you - C..."
The dial tone followed the static. Kate struggled not to fall to tears as Gibbs rested a fatherly hand on her shoulder. Hearing Ari telling her Tony was alive was one thing. She heard his voice amongst the gun battle. This was less about someone Tony was alive. Tony was alive! And he was coming home. Flying home. And Kate would there to find him. Rescue him... and bring him home. And God forbid any man who tried to stand in her way.
"Come on, Kate," Gibbs said as he took her should in one arm towards the elevator. "Let's bring that annoying frat boy home."
Kate chuckled through her tears. "
"McGee!" Gibbs called. "You comin'?"
VENEZUELA
The convoy of escapee vehicle came onto the airfield... surprisingly abandoned. There were literally just a few janitors keeping the six planes in the hangers neat and clean. The few janitors came waving at what they initially thought they were their Venezuelan Army superiors... but immediately started running once they saw the image of men in prison garb armed with guns.
An escapee raised his gun, but Tony swatted it down. "NO! Let 'em go. They're just janitors. They have no allegiance."
The escapee shrugged and walked off. A second one came up to Tony. "Italiano, the army will be here soon."
"Mierda!" Tony whistled to Jose and Chuey. "Mira, get your boys to strip off everything off the planes that we don't need and I fucking mean and-FUCKING-ale!"
Chuey nodded and motioned for some of his boys to follow, translating for those who didn't speak English.
Tony and Jose faced the remaining escapees as they gathered around. In the best Spanish Tony could muster as an American, he said, "Boys, I'm not gonna lie to you. We may not make it to America. There are many dangers along the way. The Venezuelan Air Force could shoot us down. We could crash in the sea. And even if we reach America, and the US Air Force doesn't shoot us down, we're under a government that really isn't fond of immigrants... especially given what happened in New York and the Pentagon a few years ago. But you know what... I say it's worth a shot... Any man here who doesn't wanna fly, who wants to take his chances, maybe start a revolution here at home, you got family you don't wanna leave behind; trust me, I understand. Know that not one of us will think any less of you. Every single one of you, you're all brave men. Both our countries were started by revolutions. I know as an American, it's easy for me to say this, but I've always believed that it is better to die on your feet than live on your knees. So now is our time to fly to freedom. This will be exceptionally dangerous. Take a look at the man beside you. It's a good bet in the next few hours, you, he or I will be dead.
"Every man brave enough to accept this..." Jose finished up. "Step forward."
Not one man hesitated. Every man, in the military unison they were trained in, took a cohesive step forward. Tony nodded at them with a proud smile.
"EVERYTHING BUT THE GUNS!" Tony called. Chuey raised a thumb ups while still sprinting. "Jose, I suggest you do the same with your plane."
Jose nodded and turned to one of his men. "Start the pre-flight. GO!"
If a pilot above the airfield were to describe, the place looked a giant ant hill had been set on fire and the ants, in the case the escapees, were running everywhere and anywhere. Some had stolen equipment in their hands. Some were bringing out hijacked fuel trucks to fuel the planes. Some had stolen ammo boxes from a nearby raided supply base. Tony called over Chuey. "What are the status of these planes?"
Chuey pointed to the one they were going to take. "Aight, Italiano, ours and Jose's are good to go. The rest need ammo and fuel."
"Fall out!" Tony his crew. "Load up in the plane!"
Tony could hear air raid sirens off in the distance. "Mierda, the Air Force will be here any minute. LET'S GO!"
After boarding the planes, Tony and Chuey went straight to the cockpit, Tony taking the co-pilot's seat on the right.
"Start up the engines," Chuey ordered.
"On it," Tony said, getting to work. This would be his first time flying a plane as a pilot but the Air Force escapees had taught him the art of flying in the planning phases of the operation. Tony looked out his right window and saw the right engines roar to life.
"Turning on one!" Tony called. Chuey looked out his window.
"Turning on two!" he called as he increased the throttle enough to move forward and out of the hanger. Chuey taxied hurriedly to the runway, following the direction of an escapee outside who pointed to the runway with a rifle in one hand while waving him forward with his other hand. Finally the plane reached the runway. Chuey gave a thumbs up at him.
"If you haven't strapped yourself in, I suggest you do it now!" Tony said over the intercom... and strapping himself in. He turned to Chuey. "Let's do this."
They slammed their windows shut. The guide went to side of the runway held up his hand. One finger, then two fingers then waved the shirt-flag duct-taped to his gun as clearance for takeoff. The pilots nodded and saluted. Tony shoved the throttles forward. The guide waved his flag gun into the ground towards the runway. The entire plane shook as the engines roared. It felt like an earthquake just struck all of Venezuela. Tony crossed himself as the plane jolted forward. Escapees who had tasks to perform stopped what they were doing to come out and cheer them on. Tony nodded at them from the co-pilot's seat as they raced forward.
"Maximum power!" Chuey called. The throttle was set to its maximum speed. The nose rose up in the air, it's back wheels bearing the full weight of a C-130 fully loaded with fuels and men. If Tony were to have looked in the mirrors, he would've seen escapees holding their breath. Near the end of the runway was some debris of a wrecked plane. It was on fire and getting bigger and bigger and bigger. Tony and Chuey pulled the yokes back into their stomachs. "Come on! GOD's WILL BE DONE!"
They missed the top of the debris by a damn foot. When Tony allowed himself to breath, he could hear the crew cheering. They did it! They were in the air.
"ORALE GUEY!" came all over the radio. Tony laughed in relief. Chuey patted his back as they climbed. Tony looked in the mirror. Jose was next. The guide waved his gun-flag. Jose's plane took off. And they other. And the other. All eight planes were in the air.
"Alright boys, I'm proud of y'all," Tony called over the radio. "I'll see you all at the rendezvous point."
"Tony..." Chuey croaked, pointing forward toward outside the cockpit window. Tony turned to see the Venezuelan sky being picketed with puffs of black smoke, coming closer to them. They were little explosions. Tony winced. Anti-aircraft fire, aka flak. Annnnnnnnnd they were coming closer to him.
Shortly before one flak burst rocked the plane, Tony managed to get out a: "Mother f-"