Hellsing: Battlefront
Chapter ten: Dogfights
ZR: Sorry about not updating soon enough. School, work, the usual.
"Alright, you were all briefed before we left Charlie airfield. We're to escort the eighth bomber group on their way to a major factory city in the heart of Italy. We're to keep theses guys safe from anything, and I mean anything. Keep your eyes out for enemy fighters. Alpha-one out" John sighed as he clicked off his mike. In all his fighter pilot years, he never dreamed that he would experience an aircraft such as this. It was the new FA-22 Raptor that had been in development for years, ever since he first head about it on television, he had been dreaming of flying it ever since. And now, his dream had come true. At his controls were the most advanced weapons systems available. It ran a shiver down his spine just thinking of the firepower this thing had. That and the fact that it was nearlyinvisible to radar.
John smirked underneath his helmet. He always wanted to give some righteous payback to those Vatican bastards. Every single one of them.
"Alpha-three to Alpha-one, I got a bogey on my scope."
"Where?"
"Two-nine-zero degrees and thirty degrees down. Approximately thirty kilometers and closing. Whatever it is, it's headed for us really fast."
"Roger Alpha-three, I'll go check it out."
John turned his fighter toward the direction of the incoming bogeys. As soon as he came within radio range, he opened a channel with the bogey.
"Unknown aircraft, this is First Lieutenant John of the Allied forces, identify yourself."
The contact didn't reply.
"Unknown aircraft please respond."
The aircraft did not respond again. Just as he was about to talk again, four more contacts appeared just behind the first one. Then a claxon began blaring in his cockpit. They weren't friendly.
"Alpha one to all escorting fighters, get ready for hard contact."
Three more aircraft appeared on his scope.
"Correction, very hard contact."
John arched his fighter into the clouds hanging above him and waited for them. It was only a few minutes before he saw them below him, eight F-18 Eagles. John's smirk grew to a sadistic grin. He dropped his fighter down behind them staying in their blind spot. He then pushed the accelerator forward, shooting past the Eagles. Just as he past them, the claxon blared again, signaling he was being locked on. Too bad the missiles they use are radar guided he thought to himself as he arched upward, luring three fighters to follow him.
He wove his fighter back and forth as he climbed into the cloud cover, his radar showed the fighters still behind him. He cut the engines, and his fighter slowed, and then slowly began to fall. As he dropped altitude, he saw three blurs go past him, he barely saw the Vatican Section Thirteen insignia on the wings of the three fighters. HE shoved the accelerator forward, and his engines answered in time, gaining speed and altitude, now on their six. As they pulled out of the clouds he decided this should be a one-on-one. He got a lock on the two trailing fighters, and launched two missiles. Seconds later, two fireballs erupted in the sky before him. The lead fighter, now confused, began weaving ever slightly to get a look behind him. John decided to make it easy on the guy, and accelerated up to the fighter, and got cockpit to cockpit on the fighter's left. John looked at him, and he looked back.
John lifted his eye protectors, and gave him the one-fingered salute. John dropped back behind the fighter once again, and opened up with his close range weapons. Three .50 caliber Armor piercing machine guns. The right wing of the fighter broke off and flew directly past his fighter. The fighter began trailing smoke, and spinning erratically down toward the ground.
"Alpha-one to all escorting fighters, how'd you fare?"
"Alpha-two here, we lost Alpha-five."
"Sorry to hear that Alpha-two."
"Other than that sir, mission successful. We're headed back now."
"Roger, I'll meet up with you guys back at base."
John sighed sadly; he got out his personal computer and listed Alpha-five, Rojer Simmons, as KIA. That casualty made it one hundred KIA, eighty-five WIA, and zero MIA. These Nazis took no prisoners.
Back at Charlie Airfield, John was in the pilot locker room taking his flight suit off, and replacing it with his uniform. He was just about to exit the room, when Walter stepped in, nearly knocking him down.
"Oh, I'm terribly sorry John, I do apologize."
"No problem Walter," He replied as he wiped off some dirt from his uniform, "What can I do for ya?"
"Well, we have a bit of a problem."
"What do you mean, problem?"
"Well, one of the Special forces squad was captured earlier today. We need you to lead a rescue mission."
"Alright, I'll do it. Who was taken?" He was puzzled, why would Nazis want prisoners?
"They took Squad One."
"What!" John grabbed Walter by his shoulders and lifted him up off the floor. "Where, Where were they taken? When? I want to know now!" he yelled into Walter's face, black tendrils wove from his hair and arms and wrapped around Walter. SquadOne was handpicked by him. It was his squad, if he wasn't there, they could operate just fine.
"I don't know personally. I was only told to get you. Now could you please let me down."
The tendrils sank back into John's body, he let Walter down onto the floor, "I apologize Walter, my temper got away from me."
"No worries no John, just use that temper on the enemy now, and not your allies. Now if you would come with me, Sir Integra is waiting for you."
"Right."
Outside the building, Walter escorted John to Integra's limosuine. Walter opened the rear door, and let John inside.
"Evening Sir."
"Evening Lieutenant."
Walter got in the driver seat and drove off the premisis.
"Whats the situation Sir?"
"Approximately four hours ago, we lost contact with your squad. Their last transmition came from north of Duisburg. They were on perimeter patrol when we lost contact. We want you to lead the search and rescue mission."
"I understand Sir."
"You'll handpick your soldiers. And because this is peculiar activity for the Nazis, you'll get free clearance for all reconaissance equipment."
"Clearance sir? How much?"
"All the way."
"Thank you sir."