As Cora started to feel herself wake up, she groaned uncomfortably, feeling the hard mattress she was laying on. The thing was damn near hard as metal, and she could probably count each individual spring based solely on where she felt them or where she should've felt them as she rolled around in her sleep. Even though Cora was practically sleeping on a brick though, she still managed to end up getting at least six hours of sleep every night, much to the surprise of the guards. She struggled with falling asleep for the first few days, but she got used to it after the first few weeks. If there was one thing she was good at that wasn't flying, it was falling asleep in places where she likely wasn't meant to fall asleep.
Cora threw the sheets off and sat up in her bed. She pressed her hands against her lower back and leaned backward until she heard a pop. After a few more stretches, she stood up and shuddered involuntarily as she felt the cold concrete against her bare feet. Taking a moment to collect herself and get dressed, she felt the hot sun beating down on her through the open windows throughout the cell block. With each passing day with the 262nd, Cora felt more like the cell block's poor ventilation was an intentional design. However, she quickly adjusted to the heat within her first few weeks, and now, it barely even bothered her.
There was very little in Cora's life that made her feel grateful for where she was, but if she had to pick one thing, it would probably be the fact that Commander Gates let her and the others have mostly free reign around the base between sorties. The situation they were in was bad enough, but Cora wasn't sure if she could handle being cooped up in a cell all day in addition to that. As she made her way across the base, moving from the cell block to the main building, she looked out at the desert and frowned slightly. Every time she went outside or up in the air, she couldn't help but think of it as a little taste of freedom. The only problem was that she knew she wouldn't get to feel that freedom ever again.
Cora pushed the thought away as she stepped into the main building, feeling a refreshing blast of air conditioning as soon as she opened the door. She started to make her way through the winding halls instinctively, slowing the pace she walked at ever-so-slightly to spend as much time in the air conditioning as possible. Before long, she arrived at the mess hall and quickly spotted Axe, Dodger, and Slipstream.
"Hey boys," she said, announcing her presence as she sat down. "What's happening?"
"Absolutely nothing," Slipstream groaned. "God, I'm bored." He rested his head on his hand.
"Where's Trench?" Cora asked, looking around the table and noticing his absence.
Axe nodded his head over to one of the other tables. "Sitting with the others," he answered. "Guess we're not good enough," he added with a scoff.
Cora glanced over at the table and quickly noticed Trench sitting between Poet and Lucky. She couldn't help but be amused by the fact that, despite being relatively close in the air, all of the squadrons sat separately from each other whenever a meal rolled around. Cora still didn't trust any of the others, either Nexus Squadron or Castor Squadron, as far as she could throw them, but even she had to admit that Vortex was right when they said that they worked well together in the air. The past few weeks had seen both parties opening up to each other, but there was always a slight bit of tension between them.
"Hmph, if you ask me, I think Trench forgets that he's a criminal just like us," Dodger muttered.
"Or maybe he just wants to get away from us because we harass him at every opportunity," Slipstream suggested with a snicker.
Cora shrugged. "Well, it's nobody's fault but his own, I guess. After all, he's the one that makes it so easy for us."
"Yeah, you've got a point there," Axe agreed. "Can't believe he tries to come off as all high and mighty when he's the one that killed someone."
"In the end, though, it doesn't really matter that much in the grand scheme of things," Dodger chimed in. "Because in the end, They're all gonna get a bunch of fancy medals while we get sent back to prison."
"If we even survive to the end of the war," Slipstream added.
"Oh, we will," Cora assured them. "We've already lost too many people and come too far to die." She leaned forward. "Trust me, we're gonna make it, and then we'll make damn sure that we get our freedom. You can mark my words on that."
"Well, I suppose if there's anyone who'd be able to keep us all alive throughout this, it'd be you," Axe said, smirking as he nudged Cora with his elbow.
Suddenly, their conversation was cut short by the intercom crackling to life. A high-pitched screech quickly grabbed everyone's attention before a voice started echoing through the room.
"Rogue Squadron and Castor Squadron, please report to the briefing room," the voice said in a very indifferent tone.
Cora and the others shot each other confused glances. "Didn't Gates say we weren't going on a mission today?" she asked. "What could he want?"
"Who cares?" Slipstream said, already standing up. "Whatever it is sure as hell beats sitting around. That's for sure."
"What do you think this is about?" Eva asked as everyone headed over to the briefing room in one large group.
"I mean, the guy on the intercom didn't really sound all that concerned or anything, so I doubt it's anything super serious," Magic speculated.
"Well, I suppose we'll just have to find out," Vortex said as he led the way into the briefing room, where Commander Gates and Major Tillmin were already waiting for them. "You wanted to see us?" Vortex asked the two officers as he and the others stood at attention.
Tillmin nodded. "Yes, we did," he replied. "Don't worry, you're not going out on any mission," he quickly reassured them. "But we do have a bit of an… interesting situation developing."
"Roughly ten minutes ago, what limited radar we have picked up nine allied aircraft approaching from the west- eight F-15s and an E-767," Gates explained.
After what happened on their last sortie, Eva was cautiously optimistic. She still wanted to hope that they would be getting out of there soon, but with each passing day, she grew less hopeful. She was about to ask if they knew whether these planes were actually friendly or not, but Magnum beat her to it.
"Well, for one, we've actually been talking to them," Gates answered. "Thanks to the communications jam, we weren't able to establish comms with them until a few minutes after we picked them up on radar, but eventually, we managed to read them crystal clear. Apparently, they're part of the 124th Tactical Fighter Squadron, and they're currently on their way to a mission. However, we convinced them to stop and land to refuel and give us time to explain the situation. However, they are insistent that they can't stay for very long."
"They're going to be landing in a minute, so we want you all to go down to the runway to greet them and bring them back up here," Tillmin instructed.
Slipstream scoffed. "What? So you want us to play errand-boy?" he asked sarcastically.
"Save it, Slipstream. This is exactly what we've been looking for," Charger replied as the group turned around and started to head down to the runway.
Eva was still trying to wrap her head around the information she just got fully. It felt so surreal that she was about to meet with actual pilots from the real Osean Air Defence Force- not a penal unit or Erusean defectors, but actual Osean pilots. She felt a wide range of emotions running through her mind as she followed the group absent-mindedly. All she could think about was how this brought her and the others one step closer to going home. In fact, Eva's mind was so preoccupied that it didn't even process the fact that she had stepped out into the heat until at least ten seconds after she had done it.
As soon as the group stepped outside, they were greeted by the sound of shrieking jet engines, which were slowly dying down as the planes came to a stop at the end of the runway. Without hesitation, the ground crew started to get ready to refuel the aircraft as the pilots climbed out one by one. Once they were all out of their planes, along with one of the operators from the AWACS E-767, they started to make their way over to the pilots heading right for them, eventually meeting them in the middle.
"So, I assume you guys are the 262nd Squadron?" The man leading the group asked.
"That's right," Vortex replied with a nod. "The name's Vortex. I'm the squadron leader. Commander Gates said you guys were in a hurry, so we won't keep you waiting any longer than you need to." Without another word, he turned around and started walking back into the base's main building.
"So, how exactly did you all get here?" The man asked as they walked. "How did you get so far behind enemy lines?"
"Well, that's admittedly a bit of a long story and a complicated one since not all of us were here when the war broke out," Vortex explained. "This place was a penal base, but when the fighting started, they managed to fend off the initial attacks. That's when my squadron and I showed up." He gestured to the rest of Nexus Squadron. "We were actually on the Kestrel II when the war started, but it sank at Farbanti, and we ended up escaping and finding ourselves here. That's when we met Castor Squadron, who defected from Erusea when we rescued Major Tillmin."
"Huh," another man said, rubbing his chin as he processed the information. "So you've just been here this whole time?"
Vortex nodded as he opened the door into the main building. "More or less," he answered. "We've been trying to regroup with allied forces, but we're too far behind enemy lines to do anything, and the communications jam is preventing us from contacting anyone." They continued in relative silence the rest of the way to the briefing room, which wasn't very far.
As soon as everyone entered the room, Gates turned to face them and smiled. "Ah, you must be Major Wiseman." He walked up to the man who led the group of pilots, extending his hand. "I'm Base Commander Gates, and that's Major Tillmin," he said as he gestured toward Tillmin.
"Pleasure to meet you, sir," Wiseman responded, shaking Gates' hand. "Your pilots already explained a bit of your situation on the way here," he explained. "So what kind of information do you have for us, exactly?"
"Well, I'm sure by now you've had your fair share of encounters with MQ-99s," Major Tillmin presumed. "This is because Erusea has developed an auto-intercept system for their drones. Essentially, if any aircraft enters their airspace and doesn't respond to their IFF, they scramble drones to intercept them. Up until a few days ago, this system was rock solid," he explained. "However, recently, we managed to punch a hole into this system. We don't know where it is, but we do know that if you find it, you'll be able to fly right through it without any interference."
"I suppose the easiest way to find this hole would be to send squadrons to initiate combat at various points along the front lines. Plus, we can change our return route just so we're covering as much ground as possible," the second man speculated.
"Good idea, Jaeger," Wiseman agreed with a nod before turning back to Major Tillmin and Commander Gates. "You're right. This is valuable information. In fact, this could very well change the course of the war."
"If you don't mind me asking," Gates cut in. "I was hoping that you'd be able to return the favor for us. Over the radio, you said you were on a reconnaissance mission, right?"
"That's right," Wiseman answered. "I hope you're not looking to find out what we're doing, though. Because I'm afraid that information is classified."
Gates shook his head. "Oh, no. I was hoping that you might have information on that communication jamming facility I was talking about."
"I'm afraid I don't," Wiseman told him regretfully. Suddenly, though, he seemed to have a realization. "Although, I think I might know where you'd be able to find out where it is."
Gates's eyes lit up as if he was surprised to get any kind of information that might actually help him. "Really? Where?"
"The San Salvacion Military Headquarters," Wiseman told him. "If it's anywhere in the region, they'll have intel about it there. I can guarantee you that."
Major Tillmin sighed. "I was afraid you'd say that. That place is probably the most secure facility in all of Central Usea. Just getting in there will be the most dangerous operation we've ever attempted, and that's saying nothing about coming back out with the intel."
Wiseman shrugged. "I wish I'd be able to do more, but that's all I've got."
"No, no, that's fine. Something is better than nothing. Now I'm sure you should be getting back to your mission. Your planes should all be refueled by now, so good luck and Godspeed all of you." He gave them a warm smile. "Stay safe out there, and when you get back, maybe remind the higher-ups that we're still out here."
Wiseman waved as he and the other pilots started to leave the room. "Don't worry, we will," he assured them. "But you guys better take care of yourselves too," he said as he shut the door.
Major Tillmin let out a heavy sigh. "Are we really going to do this, Clinton?"
"We don't really have much choice, do we?" Gates replied. "Here, we have a real chance to finally find out where this jamming facility is. We'd be stupid to pass that up, regardless of how dangerous it is. Besides, if anyone is capable of pulling a mission like this off, it's Rogue and Castor Squadron." He smiled at the pilots.
"Well, if we are insistent on doing this, we'll need to make sure we do it right," Tillmin said. "We're going to need to plan this out to the fullest extent. I don't want to leave anything to chance."
"You're all dismissed," Gates told the pilots. "We're going to spend a few days preparing for this, and we're gonna do it right."