A/N This is my first Ace Combat Fic. I'm such a fan of the game that I saw his category and just had to write something. It's not really much, just my vision of what it's like to actually e in that plane. I'm sure all you Ace Combat 4 fans know exactly which mission I'm talking about. I might not have the facts straight and I'm sorry if I'm wrong. Please enjoy.
Fox Two
Flight. There was nothing in the world like that feeling. Even in such a machine as a plane, the feeling of air was horribly addicting, like some unknown drug intoxicating anyone who even got close to what he was feeling now.
It was a perfect day for flying. Perhaps it wasn't in his squad's opinion, but there was nothing like charging into a challenge like this one. It was nearing dusk, the sun was going down and the visibility was getting poorer and poorer by the minute. There was heavy overhang was well, clouds for nearly a mile up. It was raining it some areas as well. The rain battered his mechanical wings as he took off through the clouds at speeds no animal could even dream of matching. It was bliss, euphoria to be so free in the air. Even when he was on the ground, he thought of nothing but flight. The ground limited him, it imprisoned his wingless body. But he knew he could fly. God give me wings and I will use them. And he did.
But there was no getting away from orders. Not that he minded them at all. Secure the beach. It was easy enough. He and the other fighters were to provide air support to their ground troops over the beaches just visible through the clouds.
Childs play.
While some of the more inexperience pilots directed their wings straight towards the tanks, standing still on the sands below, firing at the advancing troops, he, Mobius 1, the grim reaper, went straight for the other planes. There were good models, F-16s and a few choppers as well. But nothing was even close to matching him in his SU-37. He flew circles around them, taunting them with his passes. And in his last turn, he would slow his plane as he was rounding behind, decelerate and come up right behind them.
Locking On. Locked on. Perfect.
"Mobius 1, Fox two."
There was that few seconds or worry, of hope as the missile whizzed toward it's target. He could see through the escaping light that the F-16 on his nose was trying to turn, trying to outmaneuver the missile. But that missile just kept on coming. Time seemed to slow as that missile grew closer, the F-16 turning and turning, picking up speed.
It was not to be.
In a burst of flaming glory, the enemy bird exploded, its mechanical wings spiraling toward the sea below. He hears himself laughing as his fellow pilots praised his kill. He was the hunter, and they were the hunted. Playing cat and mouse, stalking and taunting, freedom beyond imagination, all up here in the skies.
There was nothing better.