---
-V-
---
"Damn! Step on it already!"
Glenn was becoming very angry. It seemed as if he could not go half a damn day without being shot at by one of those Blue Moon bastards. The Orange Star APCs and recon trucks were all under attack now from Blue Moon infantry that was suited up on a mountainside, all twenty of the enemy soldiers firing down at the orange-painted vehicles who, despite being targets for enemy fire, continued their seemingly unstoppable trek towards the border.
Ahead, he could see for himself out the truck's windshield that not all was going so well. Some of the APCs were beginning to show signs of damage from the constant fire of Blue Moon machine guns, and some of the gunners on the recon units had already been shot and incapacitated. The long line of APCs and recon trucks had picked up speed, but not much. It was hard for the recon gunners to get good shots at the infantry up on the hill, although technically, they could win in a clean fight against this particular brand of unit.
I don't believe this, Gordon thought.
"Faster," the gunner on their recon truck yelled. "I'm out of ammo!" Of course. Of-bloody-course. And what was worse was that the truck hardly picked up any speed at all. Glenn realized that now their only bet was to outrun the infantry, but with a slow hunk of junk such as this one, it would probably take centuries!
"I thought recon trucks were supposed to be faster than this!"
Unfortunately, he didn't recieve the answer he desired. All he got was a typical shrug from the driver of the vehicle, and this just infuriated him more.
"I swear, if this thing doesn't start moving within the next five se--"
"Hey, you can walk if you want, boy!"
Enemy rounds ricochetted off the ground around the truck, causing all three of the men riding along in it to cover their heads and duck down into what was nowhere near the amount of cover they wanted. How in the world were they supposed to get away now? Glenn Gordon looked out the window and to the sky, praying as hard as he'd ever prayed before.
And that was when two green bomber planes came soaring across the sky and dropped their deadly cargo right on the mountainside the Blue Moon infantry had been at.
Gordon gaped out the window like a zombie. At first, he had thought the two UFOs in the clouds were big, green angels looking out for him, but then he almost went wild with excitement. "Hey, it's the guys from the 56th! Hot damn, it's the 56th and they just saved our asses!"
The driver of the recon truck gave the Green Earth pilot a look he usually didn't give people he thought were normal. "What're you talking about? We radioed those sombitches a half hour ago. Remember?"
"What?" Glenn Gordon eyed the driver, unsure of what he had just heard.
"Oh, no, you were asleep or something. Sorry." Without saying anything more, the driver deliberately looked back to the road with a bored look upon his face in an attempt to smite the pilot's anger.
Glenn just grabbed at his forehead as the green bombers circled around and began heading back in the direction they came from. He wondered when they'd get back to Green Earth, but he decided to not say anything more to the aggravating driver of the recon truck for the rest of the trip.
Somewhere along the road, Glenn Gordon could see black, billowing smoke far off in the distance, not towards the direction they were headed but past a group of mountains that were obscuring his view. He couldn't help but wonder what had happened.
"What the heck do you think happened?" The driver read his mind. Even though Glenn had made a notion to not talk to the man at the wheel, it couldn't be helped. "I'm not sure, I hope whoever's over there is alright."
They continued on for a little while. The line of APCs and recon trucks had long since passed the border, and Glenn was growing anxious to get back to his base, back to his friends, back to everything he had ever hated about the darn pithole. He was also anxious to get off his rear end. He had been sitting in the seat for what seemed like forever now, and it hurt him like the dickens.
He kept having to move around in the seat to get comfortable. Somehow, this successfully annoyed the poker chips out of the driver. "Will you STOP that!?"
"Maybe if you and these other little old ladies we're with would drive a little faster than half the speed cows travel at, we wouldn't still be in this damned thing, me not having to move all around to keep my rear end from losing its nerves because of pain shock."
"Boy, if you say something about my truck one more time, I am gonna grab that tongue of yours and--" But then, both of them instantly became quiet. The Clinton air base was in view, and so was something else they hadn't fully expected on seeing.
It never ends, Glenn Gordon thought to himself.
A bit to the east of the airbase, he could see what looked to be around fifteen planes buzzing around in the air like bees, each one trying to get the drop on one-another. Some were green, but many more were blue. His fears were confirmed: the Clinton air base was under attack, right at his arrival, too.
Olaf must have ordered the attack, Glenn thought. Now, he could see that off in the distance, there was smoke and fire. Blue bombers and green fighters lined the ground, every one that was randomly parked obviously having taken a massive deal of damage. Glenn Gordon was having a hard time catching his throat.
Then he realized that the smoke he had seen earlier along the road must have been the bombers that had saved them all, taken out by the same Blue Moon fighters who were up there in the skies now, horrifically battling it out with Green Earth's own jets and pilots. "Damn, that's some fight, huh kid?"
He didn't even hear the man sitting next to him now. Instead, he shouted a very loud order that was instantly obliged. "Get this chunk of scrap heap over to that base NOW before I just strangle you and take the wheel!"
Less than a minute later, the recon truck that had suddenly broken out of the long line formation and taken off ahead of all the others on the road screeched to a halt in front of the Clinton airbase command center. Glenn Gordon got out like he was on fire.
He raced right into the command center building without another word for his new "pal" from Orange Star's recon driving divison, and looked around warily. Where was everyone? They were probably hiding, as he figured. "Is anyone here?"
"Glenn Gordon, if that's you, I will be damned."
Of all people who could have said such a thing, it was General John Winters who had spoken out from under a desk. Apparently, he and a few others were trying to keep calm while they had been radioing headquarters all the while the fighting had been going on at their own little airbase, but to no avail. Help would not be arriving in time, most likely.
"Lieutenant Gordon, I WILL be damned!"
"Sir!" Glenn saluted the General, rather surprised he was on the ground under the desk like a coward. Of all people, he should be the one who was bravely leading his troops into combat. "Where is everyone?"
"Where the hell do you think they are, Gordon? They're either up there or they're on the ground burning up with the rest of their aircraft."
Oh no, Glenn thought. He was willing to bet most of his friends and fellow pilots were out there in the new plane retirement yard.
High up in the air at the same time, inside the cockpit of a Green Earth fighter jet, Major Roger Winters was one of barely five planes left battling against the enemy Blue Moon fighters. He was having a very hard time surviving, to say the least, and if things kept up, he'd be nothing more than another "war victim". He'd be forgotten just like that, and he wasn't about to let that happen, not if he had anything to do with it.
"Winters, where in the world are you!?"
"I'm sorry, Captain, but I'm having some problems of my own right now." Captain Clay Shamrock was also one of the remaining fliers in the skies battling alongside Winters. He hadn't been in the seat of a fighter for ages, but it felt good to get back in one, that was for sure.
"We sure could use some anti-air right now."
They'd probably bumble up and shoot us down instead, Winters thought to himself. Everything else had gone wrong this week, why not that too?
"Wi--" Static. Then a very loud boom.
"Captain?" Things had just gotten worse before Winters could even remark to himself on his own thought.
Glenn Gordon hurriedly rushed over to one of the remaining Green Earth fighters sitting by the base's runway, his new aviation helmet in his hand as he raced up to it. Before the General could tell him not to bother getting up into it and getting himself killed, Gordon already had the plane's engines warming up.
"Gordon, I have no idea why you're doing this, please re-think your decision, don't get yourself killed" the voice told him over the radio.
Glenn didn't bother listening. By the time he was taking off and lifting the hefty plane into the air, he could see another Green Earth fighter was going down. It crashed miles away, far away from the base, but it was still quite a saddening sight. He wondered who the pilot was.
He was gaining elevation now, and soon, he'd have a part in the fight. He felt anxious, determined to defeat his enemies or die trying. Just for a quick check, though, he decided he'd better try to radio someone he had a feeling was still fighting.
"Winters, you up here?"
There was a little bit of static, but seconds later, he recieved an angry response. "Yes, and I could use some help, for crying out loud!" Winters definately was having a great deal of trouble, despite the fact he was the best pilot in the entire 56th squadron, but now that more than half the 56th was gone thanks to this attack on their base, it wasn't too hard a role to fend off against others.
But before Lieutenant Glenn Meyer Gordon could even look at his enemy, he found they weren't even there, ready and willing to fight.
The sons of bitches were flying away!
"What on Yellow Comet are they DOING!?" It was impossible to tell who was speaking over the radio now.
"Th-they're retreating!" There were only a few Green Earth fighters in the skies now against what must have been ten Blue Moon fighters, and the enemy jets were flying away from the Clinton air base and its remaining aerial gladiators like cowards with their tails tucked away inside where they needed a good kick right about then.
"I don't believe it. They're retreating." Gordon could only shake his head in absolute amazement at the events unfolding before him.
"Unbelievable." Roger Winters was thinking the same thing as they all watched the enemy fighters blow away from the Clinton airbase, headed back north for the Blue Moon border. Instantly, Glenn could feel his rage building. The Blue Mooners who had killed so many good pilots and destroyed so many lives were now retreating like cowards. They had probably had simply recieved new orders, but still, it was horrible, unfair, unjustified. He still had no idea who was alive and who wasn't.
Moments later, the remaining Green Earth fighter jets all began to make their landings back on the runway, their pilots sadly only having half their mind on flying the planes correctly. It was hard to think straight when such an act had just occured.
Although Glenn Gordon landed his plane first, he was the last to exit his.
-V-
---
"Damn! Step on it already!"
Glenn was becoming very angry. It seemed as if he could not go half a damn day without being shot at by one of those Blue Moon bastards. The Orange Star APCs and recon trucks were all under attack now from Blue Moon infantry that was suited up on a mountainside, all twenty of the enemy soldiers firing down at the orange-painted vehicles who, despite being targets for enemy fire, continued their seemingly unstoppable trek towards the border.
Ahead, he could see for himself out the truck's windshield that not all was going so well. Some of the APCs were beginning to show signs of damage from the constant fire of Blue Moon machine guns, and some of the gunners on the recon units had already been shot and incapacitated. The long line of APCs and recon trucks had picked up speed, but not much. It was hard for the recon gunners to get good shots at the infantry up on the hill, although technically, they could win in a clean fight against this particular brand of unit.
I don't believe this, Gordon thought.
"Faster," the gunner on their recon truck yelled. "I'm out of ammo!" Of course. Of-bloody-course. And what was worse was that the truck hardly picked up any speed at all. Glenn realized that now their only bet was to outrun the infantry, but with a slow hunk of junk such as this one, it would probably take centuries!
"I thought recon trucks were supposed to be faster than this!"
Unfortunately, he didn't recieve the answer he desired. All he got was a typical shrug from the driver of the vehicle, and this just infuriated him more.
"I swear, if this thing doesn't start moving within the next five se--"
"Hey, you can walk if you want, boy!"
Enemy rounds ricochetted off the ground around the truck, causing all three of the men riding along in it to cover their heads and duck down into what was nowhere near the amount of cover they wanted. How in the world were they supposed to get away now? Glenn Gordon looked out the window and to the sky, praying as hard as he'd ever prayed before.
And that was when two green bomber planes came soaring across the sky and dropped their deadly cargo right on the mountainside the Blue Moon infantry had been at.
Gordon gaped out the window like a zombie. At first, he had thought the two UFOs in the clouds were big, green angels looking out for him, but then he almost went wild with excitement. "Hey, it's the guys from the 56th! Hot damn, it's the 56th and they just saved our asses!"
The driver of the recon truck gave the Green Earth pilot a look he usually didn't give people he thought were normal. "What're you talking about? We radioed those sombitches a half hour ago. Remember?"
"What?" Glenn Gordon eyed the driver, unsure of what he had just heard.
"Oh, no, you were asleep or something. Sorry." Without saying anything more, the driver deliberately looked back to the road with a bored look upon his face in an attempt to smite the pilot's anger.
Glenn just grabbed at his forehead as the green bombers circled around and began heading back in the direction they came from. He wondered when they'd get back to Green Earth, but he decided to not say anything more to the aggravating driver of the recon truck for the rest of the trip.
Somewhere along the road, Glenn Gordon could see black, billowing smoke far off in the distance, not towards the direction they were headed but past a group of mountains that were obscuring his view. He couldn't help but wonder what had happened.
"What the heck do you think happened?" The driver read his mind. Even though Glenn had made a notion to not talk to the man at the wheel, it couldn't be helped. "I'm not sure, I hope whoever's over there is alright."
They continued on for a little while. The line of APCs and recon trucks had long since passed the border, and Glenn was growing anxious to get back to his base, back to his friends, back to everything he had ever hated about the darn pithole. He was also anxious to get off his rear end. He had been sitting in the seat for what seemed like forever now, and it hurt him like the dickens.
He kept having to move around in the seat to get comfortable. Somehow, this successfully annoyed the poker chips out of the driver. "Will you STOP that!?"
"Maybe if you and these other little old ladies we're with would drive a little faster than half the speed cows travel at, we wouldn't still be in this damned thing, me not having to move all around to keep my rear end from losing its nerves because of pain shock."
"Boy, if you say something about my truck one more time, I am gonna grab that tongue of yours and--" But then, both of them instantly became quiet. The Clinton air base was in view, and so was something else they hadn't fully expected on seeing.
It never ends, Glenn Gordon thought to himself.
A bit to the east of the airbase, he could see what looked to be around fifteen planes buzzing around in the air like bees, each one trying to get the drop on one-another. Some were green, but many more were blue. His fears were confirmed: the Clinton air base was under attack, right at his arrival, too.
Olaf must have ordered the attack, Glenn thought. Now, he could see that off in the distance, there was smoke and fire. Blue bombers and green fighters lined the ground, every one that was randomly parked obviously having taken a massive deal of damage. Glenn Gordon was having a hard time catching his throat.
Then he realized that the smoke he had seen earlier along the road must have been the bombers that had saved them all, taken out by the same Blue Moon fighters who were up there in the skies now, horrifically battling it out with Green Earth's own jets and pilots. "Damn, that's some fight, huh kid?"
He didn't even hear the man sitting next to him now. Instead, he shouted a very loud order that was instantly obliged. "Get this chunk of scrap heap over to that base NOW before I just strangle you and take the wheel!"
Less than a minute later, the recon truck that had suddenly broken out of the long line formation and taken off ahead of all the others on the road screeched to a halt in front of the Clinton airbase command center. Glenn Gordon got out like he was on fire.
He raced right into the command center building without another word for his new "pal" from Orange Star's recon driving divison, and looked around warily. Where was everyone? They were probably hiding, as he figured. "Is anyone here?"
"Glenn Gordon, if that's you, I will be damned."
Of all people who could have said such a thing, it was General John Winters who had spoken out from under a desk. Apparently, he and a few others were trying to keep calm while they had been radioing headquarters all the while the fighting had been going on at their own little airbase, but to no avail. Help would not be arriving in time, most likely.
"Lieutenant Gordon, I WILL be damned!"
"Sir!" Glenn saluted the General, rather surprised he was on the ground under the desk like a coward. Of all people, he should be the one who was bravely leading his troops into combat. "Where is everyone?"
"Where the hell do you think they are, Gordon? They're either up there or they're on the ground burning up with the rest of their aircraft."
Oh no, Glenn thought. He was willing to bet most of his friends and fellow pilots were out there in the new plane retirement yard.
High up in the air at the same time, inside the cockpit of a Green Earth fighter jet, Major Roger Winters was one of barely five planes left battling against the enemy Blue Moon fighters. He was having a very hard time surviving, to say the least, and if things kept up, he'd be nothing more than another "war victim". He'd be forgotten just like that, and he wasn't about to let that happen, not if he had anything to do with it.
"Winters, where in the world are you!?"
"I'm sorry, Captain, but I'm having some problems of my own right now." Captain Clay Shamrock was also one of the remaining fliers in the skies battling alongside Winters. He hadn't been in the seat of a fighter for ages, but it felt good to get back in one, that was for sure.
"We sure could use some anti-air right now."
They'd probably bumble up and shoot us down instead, Winters thought to himself. Everything else had gone wrong this week, why not that too?
"Wi--" Static. Then a very loud boom.
"Captain?" Things had just gotten worse before Winters could even remark to himself on his own thought.
Glenn Gordon hurriedly rushed over to one of the remaining Green Earth fighters sitting by the base's runway, his new aviation helmet in his hand as he raced up to it. Before the General could tell him not to bother getting up into it and getting himself killed, Gordon already had the plane's engines warming up.
"Gordon, I have no idea why you're doing this, please re-think your decision, don't get yourself killed" the voice told him over the radio.
Glenn didn't bother listening. By the time he was taking off and lifting the hefty plane into the air, he could see another Green Earth fighter was going down. It crashed miles away, far away from the base, but it was still quite a saddening sight. He wondered who the pilot was.
He was gaining elevation now, and soon, he'd have a part in the fight. He felt anxious, determined to defeat his enemies or die trying. Just for a quick check, though, he decided he'd better try to radio someone he had a feeling was still fighting.
"Winters, you up here?"
There was a little bit of static, but seconds later, he recieved an angry response. "Yes, and I could use some help, for crying out loud!" Winters definately was having a great deal of trouble, despite the fact he was the best pilot in the entire 56th squadron, but now that more than half the 56th was gone thanks to this attack on their base, it wasn't too hard a role to fend off against others.
But before Lieutenant Glenn Meyer Gordon could even look at his enemy, he found they weren't even there, ready and willing to fight.
The sons of bitches were flying away!
"What on Yellow Comet are they DOING!?" It was impossible to tell who was speaking over the radio now.
"Th-they're retreating!" There were only a few Green Earth fighters in the skies now against what must have been ten Blue Moon fighters, and the enemy jets were flying away from the Clinton air base and its remaining aerial gladiators like cowards with their tails tucked away inside where they needed a good kick right about then.
"I don't believe it. They're retreating." Gordon could only shake his head in absolute amazement at the events unfolding before him.
"Unbelievable." Roger Winters was thinking the same thing as they all watched the enemy fighters blow away from the Clinton airbase, headed back north for the Blue Moon border. Instantly, Glenn could feel his rage building. The Blue Mooners who had killed so many good pilots and destroyed so many lives were now retreating like cowards. They had probably had simply recieved new orders, but still, it was horrible, unfair, unjustified. He still had no idea who was alive and who wasn't.
Moments later, the remaining Green Earth fighter jets all began to make their landings back on the runway, their pilots sadly only having half their mind on flying the planes correctly. It was hard to think straight when such an act had just occured.
Although Glenn Gordon landed his plane first, he was the last to exit his.