'Never forget the past, what happened back then has shaped the events occurring today...' Prime Minister Klauss Steyrlich, 1942 - 2009

CHAPTER 1, REASSIGNMENTS.

15 Years Later.

Main Island of Curisou, Nilenian Island Kingdom.

22 September 2010/ Tripolia AFB, hangarbay 3, 13:00 hours.

"The landing gear seems to be in order"

2nd Lieutenant Michael Frost mumbled as he softly touched the hydraulic lowering gear of the Mirage's extended front wheel.

Feeling its cold smooth metallic surface underneath his fingers he somehow felt completely at ease.

For a moment there was no problem in the world, no insecurity or worries about the future.

It was maybe stupid to gently touch a piece of lifeless machinery and feel these kind of emotions but nobody, except a pilot or perhaps a mechanic, would understand what it meant to simply have a bond with a plane.

He grinned, his father would have understood, he had been also a fighter pilot so many years ago.

Michael would never forget the days when he was taken along with his mother as she went to visit the airbase his father was stationed at. Standing behind the barbed wire at the main entrance he had stood looking in awe and excitement as fighters, Phantom II's, F104's, A6's and F15's taxied towards their hangars or runways ready to take off on another hair raising mission.

He always had pictured himself taking one of these great machines and fly to the skies, flashing through the clear white clouds turning and twisting his fighter in all kind of tight turns while taking down enemy fighter after enemy fighter. That child dream, off wanting to shoot down enemy fighters in his own fighter, had changed abruptly as his father's F104 didn't return that fatal cloudy and rainy day almost 15 years ago. Even though he still enjoyed planes afterwards, the fun of war saw from a kids point of view, was totally gone.

He gave a sigh, no need to remember the past he was now at the present and he knew his father would have been proud to see his son also taking to the skies.

Turning his attention back to his pre-flight checklist, he held in his left hand, he went over to the next item; weapons load-out and configuration.

Bending his long slender figure slightly he walked underneath the fuselage from the front of the plane to the left delta shaped wing of the fighter, watching closely for any damage to the hull as he went along.

Not noticing any dents, damages or any other malfunctions Michael turned his eyes towards the ordnance that was being placed on the Mirage 2000E five weapon hard points, two on each wing and one under the main fuselage.

The red tipped warhead of a much larger sized missile compared to the standard Sidewinder missile was clearly visible as he grabbed the entry ladder planning to check the weapons computer located in the cockpit.

"A AMRAAM missile?" Michael murmured in surprise as he recognised the large shaped blue painted missile.

Letting go of the entry ladder Michael jumped down and took a closer look at the threatening blue coloured missile, he only had seen AMRAAM's so far in either technical manuals or in the 'Pilot's Post', the base newspaper and certainly not in real live on any NRAF fighter.

But there they were, put on the two outer hard points, of the five main hard points the Mirage possessed, hung two AMRAAM air-to-air missiles.

Looking at the pre-flight checklist he gave a small smile, he wasn't making things up.

Their it clearly stood; 2 AIM 120's (commonly know as AMRAAM's) and a further 2 MATRA 120's Sidewinder missiles along with 500 rounds of 30mm bullets for the two DEFA 5-53 cannons were to be, or had been in case of the missiles, loaded onto his fighter.

The missile was one of the new prides of the Royal Nilenian Airforce (NRAF) so he had read in the Pilot's Post only a few days ago.

This new medium range air to air missile would greatly enhance the defensive capabilities of the Nilenian Royal Air Defences.

But further in the article it also said that the AMRAAM missile still was in the process of being distributed to front units, and therefor was not in common issue yet.

And this being airbase in the middle of the island group it was a surprise to see the latest kind of ordnance being prepped on his bird. He scratched his head as a pair of mechanics walked past him getting ready to load the rest of the Mirage's weaponry.

Michael stood there silently watching the two mechanics as they carefully placed another missile onto one of the hard points.

Puzzled at why there was a need for the latest of weaponry to be put on his fighter he didn't hear the Rover 4x4 approaching the main maintenance hangarbay.

"Dreaming again 2nd lieutenant Frost!"

A low voice angry rumbled behind his back, startling 2nd lieutenant Michael Frost back to the present, he would have recognised that commanding and threatening voice anywhere on the world.

Turning quickly around he knew that Colonel McDowell would be ready to give him a stern lecture... again.

Ending his turn Michael came to attention and briskly saluted but saw, with some relieve and surprise, that Colonel McDowell was not looking at him but was looking with his cold steel grey eyes at the Mirage 2000 that was standing behind him, Frost's new fighter.

The 48-year-old war veteran was actually quite liked all over the base for his fair treatment off all base personnel even though he sometimes was a bit tough and strict.

The colonel was a small man, just 1.64 metres long, he was dwarfed compared to his pilots.

Even so he had a strong aura that clearly stated that he was the command authority and if you had a conversation you felt like you had to look up to him. Adding to his impressive command aura were the addition of a pair of cold steel-grey coloured eyes. Other visible features were his bright white hair that always seemed to be trimmed to the millimetre and a large scar on his cheek.

He was therefor nicknamed the 'White Bull'.

A very fitting name if you knew him better, and Michael Frost did know him to his own regret.

He swallowed and remained perfectly still as he waited for the Colonel to begin the conversation.

It was clear that he would again be chewed out for 'dreaming off' on duty so no need to provoke the 'White Bull' any more by also not showing any respect to a superior commanding officer.

Luckily the Colonel didn't seem to notice him as he just continued watching over the Mirage while folding his arms behind his back.

"So what do you think" The colonel finally asked, after what seemed like hours, turning his attention from the Mirage back to Frost who still stood at attention, casually answering Frost's salute.

"It's a fine fighter sir!" Michael answered feeling relieved, apparently no angry senior officers for him this day.

Lowering his arm slowly to his side he turned towards the sleek grey and blue coloured Mirage 2000, NRAF proudly put on the tail next to the Nilenian flag, a five point blue star with a white crown in a white and blue coloured circle. At the front section his name was clearly visible just below the canopy spelled in bright white letters, '2nd lieutenant Michael Frost'.

Even though the colonel was standing next to him he couldn't help but let go off a little smile. Finally! After two hard years of training at the academy, he got his very own plane!

"You bet it is a fine fighter!" McDowell rumbled turning Frost's attention back to the colonel, fearing a pre-emptive lecture for his smile. The mechanics had finished loading the missiles and were just starting to load the twin canons with large heavy belts of 30mm rounds for the DEFA 5 - 53.

"I'm sorry to see it, and you, go." He mumbled so softly that only Michael heard him.

"Sir?" Michael asked startled, forgetting the threat of any reprimands that had been going through mind earlier.

"You're being reassigned son." McDowell answered again very casually, just like it was the simplest thing in the world. Taking a last look at the Mirage the Colonel turned around slowly and started walking back to his Rover.

Just as he almost slammed the door shut Colonel McDowell turned his head briefly around piercing him with those deep steel grey eyes. "Briefing at 14:00 hours lieutenant... DON'T dare to be late!"

"I won't be, Sir!" He was barely able to make out, still a bit dazed by the news he just had received.

He saluted as the colonel drove past him towards the main building, leaving him behind still pondering what this all meant.

What in the world was happening here? He was just stationed here for a month and now, as he was just settling in, he was to be reassigned?

Shaking his head, clearing his confused mind, he took a final gaze at his fighter, the clear skies were letting the sunbeams play on the shining metal surface of his Mirage 2000.

It was perhaps not one of the best fighters in the world, but like the colonel mentioned, it was still a potent and beautiful fighter.

It was just like a picture you would see used for a recruitment poster; the sunrays reflecting on the Mirage as it stood in front of the hangar.

Again shaking his head Michael thought back to his conversation with the Colonel and the briefing that would be held at 14:00 hours.

Wait a sec! 14:00 hours!

Checking his watch he was startled to see that the briefing was already over 30 minutes.

Taking his bicycle, which he had dumped in the bushes next to the hangar, he sprinted back to the 23rd Squadron barracks.

He wasn't planning to be late, this was just turning out to be a really weird but interesting day.

22 September 2010/ Tripolia Airforce-base, briefing room 2, 13:55 hours.

While fiddling with his flight suit zipper he noticed that major Blackovitz, a senior flight leader of the 22nd, was staring at him with a disproving look on his face. The major was rumoured to be an old ISAF officer, or at least that was what he had heard. The major, had some kind of Asian heritage, and also had some sort of shared history with the Colonel, but that was again all again information that had came from the rumour mill.

The only thing that had spiked his interest was the possibility of an old ISAF pilots in their small airforce.

It was a known fact that many former ISAF returned to their own countries after the organisation dissolved.

Also the ISAF exploits were not a rumour, even if the Major was not an old ISAF pilot everyone knew the ISAF and its high ideals it once stood for.

Even he, who was to young to remember the conflict between the ISAF and Uresia, knew the ISAF.

In documentaries, he had followed on the Discoverer Channel, and in the many manuals he had gathered in his years at high school the ISAF was always prominently called in many of them.

A peacekeeping force, defending the weaker countries, defending the innocent by gathering them under a single banner.

Not that it mattered for his small country anymore, the ISAF was dissolved long before he had school.

Even so the major, ex ISAF or not, was still staring with him with that disapproving look on his face so he quickly stopped fiddling with the zipper of his flight suit.

It was just that he couldn't help it, he felt excited, so he had to distract himself so not to start going into a dreaming state. Also the idea that there was a possibility of some real action made him feel tense.

The papers and the NNBS, Nilenia National Broadcast System, were lately all focused on the rising tensions between Osea and Yuktobania. Then again the two bickering countries were almost always in the news the past years.

But the past weeks they had really dominated the headlines. Prominent figures from both nations had made threats and accused each other from supporting separatist terrorists to harassing small neutral countries by posing unreasonable embargo's and economical sanctions.

Even though the two superpowers had not made any threatening military moves toward Nilenia yet, or any other nation for that matter it was not uncommon to see incursions on Nilenian controlled territory during times of war. It was just like they said themselves, small countries like Nilenia were harassed, it didn't matter if they did it themselves that was a minor detail. It would be just like the war 15 years ago.

Turning his gaze quickly away from the now sour look of the major he watched at the other pilot.

Also a pilot of the 22nd Tactical Fighter Squadron this one was a far better looking then the emotionless looking major.

The pilot was a young attractive female lieutenant named Janet Deveraux, callsign Comet.

As she looked up from her notebook noticing him watching her she gave him a gentle smile, which he gladly returned. That was at least one person who wouldn't skin him alive during this briefing.

Michael had met her a few minutes ago while bicycling past some parked F4 Phantoms, which were undergoing routine maintenance.

A young female pilot with short blond hair had showed up in front of him as he made a turn around a Phantom with its canon detached lying on a cart as mechanics cleaned it.

Noticing she also seemed to be heading towards the main facility he had offered her a ride, which she had gladly accepted.

"Thank you!" she had answered cheerfully as she gently sat on the backseat of his bike. His heart immediately warmed up by that cheerful reply.

"Are you also heading for briefing room 2? Lieutenant . . . ?" She had asked as he started peddling feeling happy that he had offered a ride.

"Lieutenant Michael Frost, 23rd Squadron, callsign "Dreamer"." He had answered turning his head around to have a closer look at his back seat passenger. He was immediately lost into a pair of beautiful flickering green eyes. Just as he was able to break free of those two eyes another voice cut in turning his attention back to his steering.

"HEY WATCH IT BUDDY!"

He was only just able to dodge a few mechanics that had yelled at him as he drove straight towards them.

He felt his head turn bright red as he quickly turned his eyes back to the pavement and was just able to dodge two mechanics that were working on a targeting-radar of a Phantom.

The female pilot sniggered softly behind his back making him feel more like and idiot then he already felt.

"Lieutenant Janet Deveraux a.k.a. "Comet" 22nd Interceptor Squadron."

"That was some impressive manoeuvring." She added with a laugh breaking his uncomfortable feeling.

Remembering that almost near crash it actually was quite funny now he thought about it.

He looked at the clock that hung above the door.

It was almost 14:00 hours the colonel should be here any moment now.

Just as he thought that the door opened and the colonel came marching in totally focused on reading a letter.

"Attention!" The Major barked as they quickly rose from their chairs, the Colonel walking past them his eyes still on the letter.

"At ease people." The Colonel ordered as he stopped in front of the room putting the letter on back in a map that was laying on the table.

As they sat down the colonel briefly looked at the young pilots while he took a position next to a chart of the Nileanian Kingdom and its surrounding countries.

He felt saddened to send them away so soon without any proper training but the orders came from high up and after looking at all the files Lieutenants Deveraux and Frost were the most qualified of all the rookie pilots.

Even so they were still kids but at least he was able to get a veteran flight officer to go with them.

Picking up the mission file Colonel McDowell started the briefing:

"All right people, as you all know by now you'll be transferred ASAP."

"And with as soon as possible I mean you'll be leaving today."

"You're new assignment will be the Minella Airforce base on the island of Iolla", he pointed to a place at the most Northern part of the map almost lying right between Osea and Yuktobania,

"They're creating a new squadron and you have been selected to join them there."

"We'll be receiving some new recruits to fill up the gap."

All the pilots remained perfectly silent as the news filtered through, a new squadron at Minella AFB, right near the demilitarised zone that was separating Osea and Yuktobania.

Just as if the Colonel read the minds he continued his story:

"You might have noticed that in the news there is some mentioning of a more aggressive stand of the Yuktobania Military and the response of the Oseans."

The two youngest pilots; the 2nd lieutenants Frost and Deveraux both nodded while Major Blackovitz just remained perfectly silent as he continued:

"Even though there are some sort of peace negations underway," he made a gesture that made clear that he didn't believe in those negations, "the current situation is best described as explosive and our government has put the NRAF and the whole military on high alert."

Picking up a communiqué he had just received, and had been reading when entering the briefing room, he waved it in the air for the pilots to see the Royal Emblem was pictured on it.

"This is the official statement that will be released to the press in 2 hours."

"And should therefore not be discussed by any non base personnel!" MacDowell gave a threatening look at the 3 pilots making it clear this was highly confidential.

"I hope this is clear!?" He added while lowering his voice so it sounded even more threating.

"Yes SIR!" They said in all in unison.

"Hmmmpfff" McDowell grumbled putting on his reading glasses, appearing satisfied at how the pilots' had reacted.

"Fine. I'll read it to you then."

Opening the letter with a flip of his wrist he started reading:

"To the People of the Nilenian Kingdom."

"As of 09:00 hours, 22 September of the year 2010 all land, air and sea forces have been put on high alert."

"Intelligence assets in both Osea and Yuktobania suggests a increased military activity along our nations Northern borders and therefore can be considered a threat to our nations sovereignty."

Colonel McDowell pointed with his thumb at the map hanging behind him, a piece of both Osea and Yuktobania were visible on the above part of the chart, very near to their new home base to be.

"All off duty servicemen and woman have been called back to service as well are several reservist detachments who will receive re-enrolment orders shortly after this document is released."

"We don't know how the situation will develop in the following days ahead but, looking back at those dark years 15 years ago, a full scale war is a possibility we, as a nation, should seriously consider."

"Our nation will try to remain neutral as it was 15 years ago, even so those days were one of the darkest for our small nation."

"And thus the Ministry of Defence are requesting anyone with flight experience to report to their nearest NRAF and NRN recruitment offices." (Nilenian Royal Navy)

"May God help us go through these difficult times."

"Commander in chief, King Philip the 2nd, Nilenian Kingdom, Royal Palace at the capital city of Iniapolis."

"And so on and so on." The Colonel finished the letter.

Closing the letter and putting away his reading glasses he looked at the startled faces of the young lieutenants and the now mildly interested look on the major's face.

"It's not war yet so don't look so startled!" He scolded the pilots with a growl.

"We've got a job to do, war or no war!" He again stared at the pilot's facial expressions daring them to do react but not getting any response as they all remained perfectly silent, only major Pavel Blackovitz gave a small smile which he choose to ignore.

Clearing his throat the Colonel picked up a new file, the mission file.

"Okay now that we have cleared that out I'll continue with the rest of the mission briefing."

The rest of the briefing was normal and standard just like the academy.

Their flight, designated 'Watchdog Flight', would rendezvous with Texaco Zero-Zero-Five, a KC10 tanker and it's two escorting Saab JA37 Viggen fighters designated War Ace Zero-One and War Ace Zero-Two.

After they had been refuelled they would continue with their original flightplan and head straight for the Minella Airbase on the small island of Iolla, their new squadron's homebase.

Major Pavel Blackovitz, Watchdog Leader, would be the commanding officer for this flight flying his F16E.

Lieutenant Janet Deveraux would be Watchdog Zero-Two in her F16E while lieutenant Michael Frost would by Watchdog Zero-Three in his Mirage 2000E.

The mission would start at take off around16:00 hours and end with the arrival on Minella AFB around 23:30 if everything went smoothly.

"Okay for any more detailed flight information refer to your flight manuals."

The colonel said while pushing himself away from his desk.

"That was all, dismissed and god speed."

Watching the Lieutenants put down their pencils and leaving the briefing room he mentioned Major Blackovitz, who was checking some other papers before leaving, to join him.

The major looked up from his work with a questioning look.

"Pavel, a moment of your time please."

22 September 2010/ Tripolia Airforce-base, Airstrip 2A, 16:00 hours.

The asphalt was shimmering as the bright afternoon son unleashed its hot and bright rays on the airbase.

The temperature was at least 30 degrees Celsius as three pilots walked towards their waiting aircraft, a Mirage 2000E and a pair of F16E's, standing outside on Airstrip 2A while glowing in the hot afternoon sun.

Pausing for a moment, they all synchronised their watches and briefly talked to the master-crew-chief, a old sergeant major responsible for their planes, before putting their flight-helmets on and moving towards their waiting aircraft.

Beside each fighter stood a member of the maintenance crew at attention waiting for the pilots.

Saluting the two mechanics standing next to his F16E Major Pavel Blackovitz grabbed the middle part of ladder and with two mighty hauls pulled himself towards the waiting cockpit of his F16.

With a final look over his shoulder at the distant buildings of the base, he had been stationed on for almost 10 years, Pavel pulled down his helmets sun visor and climbed into the cramped interior of his F16E.

The crewmember that had been waiting for him to settle in the ejectionseat, a tech sergeant, climbed towards him and started helping him to get strapped into the safety harness.

As the last belt of the harness clicked tight the sergeant gave a last pull at the safety harness, checking if it was secure, before patting his helmet indicating that Pavel was safely strapped in.

Pavel gave him a confirming nod.

The sergeant saluted him closing the canopy and retracting the ladder leaving him to the small confines of his fighter.

He went quickly over his pre-flight checklist, flipping the switches as he went through the various instruments and electronic systems: engine okay, radar on standby, damage display okay, targeting computer... after thirty seconds he was at the end of the list, everything seemed to be working, only one thing more.

Checking his weapon systems he noticed with satisfaction that everything appeared was lit up in the nice reassuring green colour. The computer verified that the Sidewinders and MAGIC rockets were all accounted for and were un-armed. He looked at his left at the waiting tech sergeant who had been visually checking his payload.

The sergeant looked up at him putting his thumb up indicating everything was in order.

Giving a salute to the tech sergeant, making it clear to the man it was also looking good from up in his cockpit, the sergeant waved and moved clear of the fully loaded fighter.

Waiting a few moments as the engines low howling had risen to a constant roaring sound Pavel turned on his radio.

"This is Watchdog Leader to watchdog flight, report ready status." Pavel spoke into his microphone as he briefly looked to his left and right at his wingmen's planes waiting for their confirmation.

"Watchdog 0-2 reporting ready status, lead." Came the cheerful reply of the left side F16, flown by 2nd lieutenant Janet "Comet" Deveraux.

Deveraux would never change so he didn't question her overly cheerful mood, perhaps it was a positive thing but then again he remembered the first day when he was paired with her as his wingman in the 22nd Tactical.

Looking briefly upwards to the clear blue sky he let go of a sigh.

A moment later the Mirage 2000, flown by 2nd lieutenant Michael "Dreamer" Frost, stationed at his right side also reported in: "Watchdog 0-3 all systems are showing a green light."

A lot more professional then he had acted at the briefing the Major thought, maybe this would be not so bad after all.

Turning his attention back to the remaining take-off procedures he raised the main tower..

"This is Watchdog flight leader to Tripolia Tower requesting clearance to depart to runway 2."

"Copy Watchdog leader, you're cleared for take off on runway 2..." Came the voice of the air traffic controller and just as he was planning to switch to their flight frequency the controller hastily added:

"Also the colonel wishes you the best."

"Thanks Tripolia Tower we'll do our best, Watchdog flight leader out."

The old man had, after the briefing, asked him to take extreme care of this flight, and its pilots. That had actually surprised him knowing the Colonel as a man of little words he didn't question the orders and had simply nodded.

It wouldn't surprise him if something weird would happen in the near future.

A cheerful young girl, a kid who, if he wasn't in the cockpit, seemed to be dreaming, what would come next!?

One thing was certain: this would be his most interesting squadron, he was stationed in, ever.

Pushing his throttle slightly forward his fighter began taxiing towards the runway closely followed by Deveraux's F16 and Frost's Mirage.

22 September 2010/ Tripolia Airforce-base, Runway 2, 16:05 hours, Watchdog 0-2.

Janet looked at the Major's F16, it's afterburners roaring at full power as the fighter lifted off, it was now her turn being number 2 in this flight.

Accelerating and hitting the afterburners simultaneously Janet felt her head and body sank deeply into her seat as the tremendous force of the Pratt and Whitney engine pushed the 17-ton fighter into the air.

When all this happened she felt exited about the prospect of joining a newly formed squadron, major Blackovitz and lieutenant Frost looked like people she could get along with just fine.

Also the added bonus of their new squadron being stationed at the most famous of NRAF airbases; Minella AFB made here day even more better then it had started.

While smiling broadly she looked down at the runway that got smaller and smaller as her F16 climbed to 1000 feet. The blue green camouflaged Mirage 2000 of Frost flickered clearly in the sun as he left the strip, making his way towards their rendezvous point at 10000 feet.

22 September 2010/ 16:12 hours, Watchdog Flight.

The two F16 fighterplanes were already waiting as the Mirage 2000 manoeuvred itself to the left of the lead F16 of Major Blackovitz. Watchdog zero-two, Janet's plane, had taken the right making it a parade V Formation.

"Watchdog zero three entering formation." Frost replied through his microphone as he accelerated slightly to match the Majors speed while keeping a safe distance, it wouldn't look good on his service record if he died on his first day while going to his brand new assignment.

Opening his visor he looked at the dark blue F16 in front right position of the formation, calmly waiting for their heading orders. Even though he knew perfectly well where to head to, he had to follow Major Pavel Blackovitz's orders and remembering the serious face of the major during the short conversation, held before entering their planes, had made him sure not to piss him off. It wouldn't surprise him to see the major becoming his wingcommander or even worse: his squadron commander.

"Roger that zero-three." Major Blackovitz replied as he watched the blue and white Mirage speeding up on his left, matching his own speed. On the other side the F16E of Deveraux was doing the same. They had at least taught them how to fly properly in a tight formation at the academy.

"Watchdog lead to watchdog flight accelerate to 750 knots bearing three twenty, copy?"
"Copy that lead."
"Onwards to Minella AFB!"

The Nilenian planes soared through the skies to their new home and to a very uncertain future.