"Good afternoon, folks. We'll be coming into London soon," the captain said over the plane's intercom.
Dr. Chuck Bartowski, renowned archaeologist, was more than happy to hear the news, more than ready to get his newest adventure started.
"Urgh, now we have to deal with the Limies for the whole layover?" Major John Casey groused. "We fought two wars for some space and now I can't go to war without stopping by."
"Oh relax, sir," Captain Sarah Walker said, never opening her eyes. "Don't eat the food and you'll be fine," she joked. Sarah was a military veteran and a survival expert, so she could secure a meal in the harshest of places.
"Some classic fish and chips never hurt anyone, sir," Chuck said, his eyes and fingers still glued to his Nintendo DS. "I don't usually trust any kind of airplane food, anyway. The less chance of using the john on this bird, the better."
"What's wrong, Bartowski? The crap box on this flight is a gilded palace compared to the latrines we were just using," Casey said, reaching over and pressing random buttons on Chuck's game. The last dig was the first time Chuck had ever had a government assignment, and he couldn't say he was a fan. He loved the funding, but he wasn't fond of the toiletry skimping.
The plane suddenly lurched, causing Chuck to grab the headrest in front of him, and Casey and Sarah to look around them with skeptical glances.
"I'm sorry about that, folks," the plane's captain came on again. "We're experiencing a bit of turbulence, and we're headed for a storm, but we'll be through it soon. Please hold tight."
"I've never liked planes," Casey growled.
"You've spent how many combined hours in helicopters to jump out of them into combat, and you're telling me that flying through a bit of rain makes you nervous?" Chuck laughed.
"I can't shoot back at the rain, Bartowski."
Sarah laughed at the two men next to her as she placed the earbuds back, letting the sounds of Modest Mouse soothe her.
Moments later, the plane shook and pitched again, drawing another growl from the seasoned major. "Fuck this," Casey said through gritted teeth.
"We're almost home, sir. We've been through a lot, we can get through this," Chuck said with a firm, supportive voice. Chuck had been on one assignment to make sure they would be a good fit, and for Chuck, it felt like a very fulfilling nightmare.
"Bartowski… will you hold my hand?" Casey mocked him, making Chuck roll his eyes back. "How can Walker just sleep through this?" Casey said, jealously eying his comrade.
"Captain Walker is tough, sir. She could sleep through a shelling if she wasn't trying to get everyone under her command through it," Chuck said with genuine admiration.
"She is a tough S.O.B., but her sleeping doesn't make me want a drink any less."
"You can order a drink, sir. They do that on flights this long," Chuck reminded him.
"I'll just close my eyes and pretend that…"
Before Casey could finish his sentence, a loud crack ripped through the plane, causing it to jostle and pitch completely to the side, the lights shutting off and the emergency lights coming on.
"What the hell was that?" Casey asked, leaning into the walkway.
"I think we got hit by lightning," Sarah said, her earbuds out again and on full alert. "I don't think it should have been that big of an issue, though."
"We're going down. We're losing altitude, and fast," Chuck warned, buckling himself in and pulling down his oxygen mask from overhead. "Sit down! And buckle in!" he barked to everyone around him.
"The plane is going down! Everybody brace!" Casey shouted as the passengers around them started sinking into manic despair.
Chuck looked around him in controlled panic, worried about his brothers and sisters in arms that weren't in his section, and his literal sister, who were in another section of the plane.
After moments of screaming, lights flashing, the clear smell of burning fuel and parts, everything around Chuck went dark, and he faded out.
XXX
Chuck slowly came to with foggy head and blurred vision. The oxygen mask hung over one ear, the other strap ripped off during the crash, a nasty gash on the right side of his head.
He took a moment to take deep breaths and reclaim his awareness. He could still move his feet and his hands, so he unbuckled himself from his seat and rose.
Casey was gone, but Sarah was still slumped over in her seat next to him.
"Captain? Captain Walker! Are you still with me?" Chuck asked, checking her neck for a pulse, which he found. He sighed in relief and unstrapped her, and gently scooped her body into his arms.
On shaky legs, Chuck was able to rise and carry Sarah over debris and a body, which he was pretty sure had lost the sole that had recently inhabited it.
Chuck exited what was left of the plane via a gaping hole that had been torn asunder by the crash landing. Chuck was relieved to see that he and Sarah weren't the only survivors. Major Casey had survived, and was helping their medical expert, Devon Woodcomb, attend to the wounded. Casey had a serious limp, but he seemed to be managing.
"Chuck, thank God you made it," Devon sighed with relief, watching as Chuck approached. "Is Captain Walker…."
Chuck slowly shook his head. "She's alive, but she's unconscious," Chuck informed him as he gently laid Sarah down next to Devon for his evaluation. "This looks pretty bad," Chuck said, surveying the scene from the outside, a hand to his still bleeding cut.
"Want me to take a look at that cut, Chuck?" Devon asked, watching as his brother in law's hand came back bloody.
"I'm fine," Chuck said, looking down to the woman next to him. "See if you can't get Captain Walker to wake up. We'll need her and Major Casey to pull the survivors together," Chuck suggested.
"Roger that, Devon nodded.
"Have you… have you seen Ellie?" Chuck asked nervously, his heart in his throat.
"Ellie's fine, Chuck," Devon said with a comforting smile. "She's on the other end of the crash with Morgan, Lester, and Jeff." The trio were trained for filming and technical work, not plane crashes. Chuck was glad to know they were in Ellie's capable hands.
"Oh thank God," Chuck said, a hand over his chest. "How are you, Awesome?"
"I'm, well, awesome," Devon smiled. "I came out of the crash without a scratch, and I'm riding the endorphin high of trying to run triage on a downed plane, dude."
"There's no one better for it," Chuck said with a genuine smile. "Oh look, she's coming to."
Sarah blinked her eyes a couple of times and then raised an arm to drape it over her head to block out the sunlight piercing through the tree cover. "How did… how did we survive?" she mumbled.
"I think the pilot was able to angle us right to skim into the woods, and the trees helped slow us down enough that we didn't make a crater," Chuck said. "How are you?"
"I'm okay," Sarah said. "Just give me a minute and we'll assess what's going on."
Chuck nodded and gulped hard. "There's so few of us left. We had a whole expedition party and now…." Chuck had never seen damage and destruction like this in the moment. He had studied and excavated much, much worse. To be there for it, to survive it, was so much more real.
"Are you okay?" Sarah asked, slowly sitting up.
"Yeah, just a little shaken," Chuck said, trying not to play with the cut on his head.
"Can you walk?" Sarah asked, her eyes going over the tall PhD to see if he had any clear injuries.
"Yeah, you?" Chuck asked, focusing on the tasks at hand.
"Better than Casey, I think. I hope that's the case, because we need to find water, and fast. The wounded are going to need it, and so are we. We need to find a river, a stream, a lake. Any water that isn't standing is great," she said.
"Okay. Let's gear up and find some agua," Chuck said, slowly rising to his feet.
Chuck and Sarah made their way to the back of the plane where all of their weapons and field gear were stored. It was midday and the sun was up, but a thick cloud cover and their location kept it from being too hot, influencing Sarah to keep on her army regulation jacket and long pants. Chuck stayed in his cargo pants and suede jacket.
"I don't know how much tech made it, but our weapons should be fine," Sarah said as she unlocked a crate and strapped on a utility belt with two holsters and pistols.
"Expecting trouble?" Chuck asked.
"I don't know what to expect. I have no idea where we are, or what's around. If we're close to our dig sight, there very well could be armed looters. We look pretty remote, so there could be wildlife I don't want to mess with."
"A lot could go wrong. Got it," Chuck summarized and Sarah patted his cheek and smiled.
"The first problem is where to go for water," Sarah said, pulling her long blonde hair into a ponytail. She had broken army regulation by having it down over her uniform collar, but they were on a small private plane with Casey being the commanding officer, so nobody batted too big of an eye.
"Do we just pick a direction and try not to get lost?" Chuck guessed. "You're the survival expert."
Sarah huffed and squinted her eyes, scanning the woods around the downed plane. "We head North, try to find higher elevation, see if we can't see anything of value to us, maybe even a better shelter option," she suggested.
"Works for me, Captain," Chuck agreed as he followed Sarah off into the woods.
"You can call me Sarah, Chuck. We're downed only God knows where. If our GPS decides not to work, we're in serious trouble."
Chuck was rummaging through a supply box when he triumphantly came up with the black and yellow satellite GPS device. He smacked the side of it a couple times and held down the on button, and it flashed to life.
"Oh thank God," Chuck said, cradling it to his chest like a baby. "Okay, I have our starting location, so we can mark it, and then anything good we find along the way. We can make a map of sorts when we find a good rest spot," Chuck thought aloud as he found a waterproof field journal and a pencil.
"I like it. Let's go," Sarah said, leading the way.
"If I can ask, Sarah, how did you get stuck on this assignment?" Chuck asked as they lost sight of the plane, each equipped with a military backpack stuffed with canteens. They would need more, but it was a start.
Sarah laughed a little and turned her eyes to Chuck. "Are you seriously going to small talk me the whole trek?"
"I'm a talker, Captain. We can either do small talk, or I can talk to you about the latest book I'm writing. I was in Southern Mexico last year, digging for an Aztec…."
"Alright, fine," Sarah cut him off. "I was given this assignment by General Beckman, whose close friends with Dr. Langston Graham, a high up with the State Department. Major Casey is one of their golden boys, so that's how you got us," she explained.
"But why?" Chuck pried.
Sarah rolled her eyes, but gave in. "Because they're afraid I'm burning out, Chuck. I'm an captain in the Rangers. I've seen a lot of shit, and they're worried I've seen too much of it lately."
"Well, have you?" Chuck asked, but knew he was on thin ice.
"Remember that firefight in Bogota over that vase you just had to have?"
"Yeah?"
"Imagine that times 1,000, but I actually lost people under me," Sarah hissed with cold eyes. "I've seen a lot, but I don't burn out, Chuck."
"No, of course not. I would never suggest it," Chuck back pedaled, creating a bit of space between them. "I'm sorry if it sounded like…."
"Please, just stop fucking talking for a while, okay?" Sarah ordered more than asked.
The awkward silence between them was deafening, louder than the natural chirps of birds and small animals around them.
Sarah sighed deeply before asking, "So what was the deal with the Aztecs or whatever?"
XXX
"I remember learning about the Conquistadors in school, but man, were they assholes!" Sarah said as they climbed up the other side of a shallow valley.
"Well the Aztecs weren't saints either, but nobody deserves Smallpox that would eventually decimate roughly 90% of the population of Central American Native populations," Chuck said. But we can talk about Aztec atrocities later."
"Shhh!" Sarah shushed him as they reached the crest. "Do you hear that?" Sarah whispered.
Chuck stood stock still and listened carefully. "Is that running water?" he asked hopefully.
"It sounds like it!" Sarah said with a genuine smile as she took off her jacket and tied it around her waist. The clouds were burning off and the exertion of the trek was warming up the pair of adventurers.
"What direction is it coming from, though?" Chuck asked. "There's too many trees. I can't see it."
Sarah squinted again and leaned forward a little. "I want to say we want to go North East, maybe a quarter mile, no more than a half mile."
"Really? That far?"
"Oh yeah," Sarah confirmed. "The sound of running water can carry surprisingly far, especially if it's a decent width across and if it's a strong current. It sounds North East, so we're going to be following this ridge for a bit. We might be able to see it before we descend from this tree line."
"Man am I glad I got you," Chuck laughed. "I'd be so lost."
"Dr. Chuck Bartowski, renowned explorer and archaeologist getting lost? Who could imagine?" Sarah teased.
"I have maps and guides on those, Sarah. Out here right now, you, your compass, and my GPS are the only things keeping me from going fetal against a tree."
Sarah laughed aloud this time, her head tilting back a little. "We'll be fine. If you find a shiny rock or some kind of weird spear head, I'm sure that'll help us out somehow," Sarah said, patting Chuck's shoulder supportively as they walked on.
"Hey now, my ability to find shiny rocks and spear heads is why we're out here, Captain." Chuck began scanning the ground now, as if he would magically find something just because they had talked about his skill set.
"What exactly are we looking for out here, anyway?" Sarah asked. "I know we're here to find rare artifacts before treasure hunters can grab them and sell them. But do we know what you're looking for?"
Chuck nodded. "We're essentially hunting a legend, Sarah. There were chronicle mentions of a power couple of sorts, a mercenary Viking warrior woman named Freja Ice Walker and her husband, Charles, Duke of Cornwall."
"Who were they?" Sarah asked.
"Charles was a trusted adviser to William the Conqueror. After the Battle of Hastings in 1066, he appointed Charles as Duke of Cornwall. Charles was key in helping to bring the rest of England under Norman rule, and he did so with the help of some mercenary bands, with Viking warriors like Freja Ice Walker."
"What did Freja look like?" Sarah asked as they continued to walk through the serene forest.
"The Freja described in the chronicles matched the Norse descriptions of the goddess Freja; blonde haired, blue eyed, absolutely gorgeous. According to the chronicles, she was strikingly tall, too."
"Hmm," Sarah hummed. "I think I like her. So we're out to see if we can find proof if they were real or not?"
"Pretty much. Find out if they're real, and recover any artifacts I can link to them," Chuck summarized.
"Sounds like a pretty daunting mission."
"It might be the hardest of my career, Sarah," Chuck said honestly. "And if anyone else is on the same trail, I'll be glad to have you and Casey along."
"Well, we have to get out of here before we can get on the trail to finding Charles and Freja."