Alright everyone, I hope y'all haven't grown too lonely, I'm like a boomerang, I always come back. (gets hit with a boomerang)
Who threw that? Nevermind...
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING OR ANYONE IN THE SPYRO UNIVERSE. ONLY MY OCS.
Chapter 13: F.T.R.
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Josh sat at the Officer's Club drinking the beer he'd ordered and watching the older crewmen celebrate. Still, he couldn't shake his worry. Bertram had departed earlier that day in an old bomber on some crazy recon mission. Naturally Thera flipped when she heard but then the targets were disclosed and it all made sense.
Bertram was going to two of the three possible locations for the hidden lair. Naturally the military couldn't send forces into the poisoned forest (in recent years, the poison had gotten a lot worse) so the lair would have to be in either Concurrent Skies or Nibellung Fortress. He had gone up with a sizable escort of over twenty-four planes; his own squadron, the 242nd, the Nevoran Squadron, now designated the 303rd, and the Tullinar Squadron, now designated 310th.
He was just about to get back up when Anne Roberts, his Executive Officer, or XO, sat down with him, drink in hand. Josh must have looked surprised because the first thing out of her mouth was...
"What's the matter Commander? Never seen a woman in need of a drink before? Or just never figured me for a drinker?" Josh chuckled and sat back down.
"The last actually. The first time I ever met you, you were meek and timid and..."
"Ugh, utter one more word and, superior officer or not, I'll swab the deck with you. That was just an act. Admiral Reede advised me to act as such until I was out of the briefing. He knew that most of the officers there still considered the Navy a man's duty. To be blunt, sir, you're the first officer other than Reede I've served under that recognizes me as an officer and not just another woman." Josh nodded and ordered another drink.
"Well, I suppose I've been trained to think that way. I've seen how my Mother and my older sister act. The way they are so independant, so assertive. True that they, like me, are dragons in human guise but the way human men act around them made me recognize at an early age that women are just as competent as any man. You have some that are more or less so like any man but by majority, they can do the same things we can. Heh, I had to learn that lesson well, otherwise I'd have two very angry dragonesses to look forward to meeting every single day. Pity my older brother didn't learn that lesson as well as I did." Anne looked at him curiously.
"You have an older brother? I thought it was just you and Captain Bertram." Josh swallowed his beer and laughed.
"No, goodness, no. I have an older brother, George, who serves with the Armored Tank Corps, a land lubber. He once smarted off that in no way, shape,or form could a woman operate a tank or properly use it in combat. Well, a few female recruits overheard this and they, along with my Mother and sister, took an old HT-26 Trainer tank out on the assault course and aced the entire thing with a perfect score. He was red-faced for a week out of embarrassment." Anne couldn't help but laugh at the story as Josh went back to his drink.
"So, I'm the only other officer than Admiral Reede who respects you. From what I've seen so far, I'm surprised you don't have a ship of your own yet." Anne actually looked stunned for a moment and looked at him.
"Why do you say that? The fact is that I have been offered a command position but I do much better work as an assistant and an intelligence officer. I could lead except I don't want to lead." Josh said no more and nodded, slowly drinking his beer and looked at his watch.
(Bertram's got to be nearing his first objective by now. I hope he makes it back.)
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Bertram scanned the ground below, making notes of out of place areas where the lair of Tomar could be. This was the second pass he'd done over Nibellung Fortress and truth be told, the sights below horrified him. While there were no anti-air guns to worry about, there were old cannons that the apes had installed here long before he was born that both undead apes and gnorcs were using to shoot both at each other as well as futily shoot up at him when they flew over. The view at four-thousand feet was enough that he could make out individual soldiers or undead. As he completed his pass, he heard the intercom activate and heard the recon officer, John Smith, read his findings.
"No serious enemy threat here except the undead. This position is tactically unsound for an assault and thus is recommended for bomb disposal only. Returning bombers and aircraft that have not dropped their ordnance will be directed over this location and will drop their unexpended ordnance below. Furthermore, several locations seem possible for a lost dragon lair but all locations are open to the environment and have likely been looted. Captain, please proceed to the Concurrent Skies objective."
"Copy that Lieutenant. Listen, we're going pretty deep into enemy territory, the fighters may have to engage enemy planes, can you man the nose gun and shoot it to make sure it works?"
"I'm primarily a recon officer but have recieved training in light weapons. A heavy machinegun is not light."
"Well cycle a few rounds through the gun and make sure it's working. A common tactic of the enemy is to strafe the cockpit and nose of the bomber to kill the nose crew, pilot, and co-pilot. We need a nose gun to fend off any frontal attacks."
There was a pause on the other end and then the sounds of the nose gun firing reached Bertram, then the intercom.
"Gun works just fine. Fifteen rounds wasted on a pointless excersice." Bertram groaned and then felt his co-pilot, Jason Fuller, tap his shoulder.
"Captain, can you handle the plane for a moment? I believe there is a tail gun on board as well and I was a tail-gunner before I became a pilot." Bertram felt the plane for a moment and then nodded.
"Go ahead, she feels light as a feather. Not like those modern bombers that are like flying walls."
Jason chuckled at that and unbuckled his flight belt, stepped out of the cockpit and went down the plane to the tail position. A few moments later, the tail gun fired and Jason keyed the radio.
"Comms check. Captain, do you hear me? The tail gun is locked and loaded." Almost immediately, an incredulous and irate Lieutenant Smith blew open the intercom.
"L-Lieutenant Fuller?! G-Get your ass back to the cockpit! A bomber cannot have one pilot while the other plays hero in the ass end of a bomber! What if we're attacked?!" Bertram keyed the radio and spoke.
"Because another classic tactic for dealing with bombers is to shoot from behind. Due to the fact that we have only two guns, one forward, one in the tail, we are a distinctly vulnerable target. You can have both pilots at the stick and our asses waving in the breeze or you can have an experienced tail gunner covering our asses and a very experienced pilot handling a bomber that responds as easily as a fighter. Your choice." Bertram clicked his radio over to the group signal to drown out Smith's reply and keyed the radio.
"All escorts, disregard shots fired. Just flexing the muscles. They gave us two guns to protect this thing with." Ayatane voiced his (and the squadron's) incredulity.
"Only two guns? That's like waving a big steak in front of a starving dragon!"
"I know, that's why I'm counting on all of you. Do not go off seeking glory or kills, if this bomber is lost before we transmit the intel, this mission fails. If you guys let the enemy shoot us down, I swear to come back from the beyond and breathe fire on each of you." He heard Jake over the radio laughing.
"A nice threat Captain, but you're a shapeshifter. You can't breathe fire." Bertram groaned as the rest of the squadron, including their foreign friends, laughed together.
"Nice Jake, now no one will take me seriously."
"Just doing my job."
At that moment, Jacob came back up and sat down, laughing. Apparently he had overheard the entire exchange as well. He was just fastening in his belt when something caught Bertram's eye. Looking to the far left and up, he saw a small group of planes approaching. They fit the profile of the gnorc planes. He turned to Jacob.
"Lieutenant, get back to your gun." Jacob looked where Bertram pointed and cursed, leaping out of his seat and running for the tail.
"Smith! Man your gun, enemy bearing three-zero-zero! Fifteen plus gnorc planes!"
Bertram switched frequencies and repeated the message over the radio.
"All escorts, enemy fighters sighted bearing three-zero-zero, elevation angels ten. Incoming! Incoming!"
Immediately, Ayatane, Sahne, Jake and the 303rd broke off and flew directly at the enemy planes closing. Bertram saw three planes make it through before vanishing from sight.
"Tail section reporting! One enemy behind us! Engaging!"
The sound of the tail gun firing instinctively made Bertram slam the rudder hard and twist the controls so that the bomber was beginning to turn hard right. Down below, he heard Smith curse as his charts apparently went flying from his desk.
"Captain! Level the plane for goodness sake!"
At that moment, a gnorc plane flew in front of the bomber but the nose gun stayed silent. A moment later, another gnorc plane flew by the bomber, still no bullets. Bertram frowned.
"Smith! Either you fire that damn nose gun or I'll let you fly the plane while I shoot the enemy!"
Apparently, the gnorcs thought the nose was defenceless and one began coming straight at them. A second later, the nose gun opened fire and shredded the poorly armored gnorc plane.
"Enemy plane down."
"Glad you could join us."
A moment later, Ayatane came over the radio, his voice triumphant.
"Captain, the remaining enemy planes are retreating. All escorts are back in position."
"Roger that. Jacob! Get back to the cockpit. If we're not under threat I need you up here so we can push the plane to full power."
"On my way, sir!"
"Smith, get your charts ready, we're nearing the next recon point. Fighters, keep a sharp lookout for the enemy, while we're on recon we can't defend ourselves."
A second later, a large explosion ripped through the sky and several black puffs of smoke appeared before the bomber. Bertram knew what it was and keyed the intercom.
"Jacob get your butt up here now! We've got flak!"
After the first flak burst, several more appeared and began dotting the sky with them. Bertram gazed at the altimeter and sighed.
"Smith, I'm going to try and get us above this mess. Can you still spot from higher up?"
"Yes Captain, I can. I have a pair of binoculars I can use to scan the ground."
"Now's a good time to get them out. We're climbing to angels eleven. Escorts, follow the leader."
The B4-L shuddered as it climbed and the escort fighters kept pace with the large plane easily. Flak still burst around them but luckily nothing had been hit. Yet.
A sudden burst from the radio made Bertram cover his ears. He made out a few words but that was it. Jacob looked to him and shook his head.
"We just lost a fighter with the 310, he took a flak burst to the tail."
"This is Paladin, does anyone see a chute?"
"This is Hammer, I see a chute. Repeat: good chute. He's out."
Bertram gave a sigh of relief and leveled the plane out. After a moment, he keyed the intercom.
"Smith, notice anything odd?"
"Aside from the fact that giant crystals are growing from the ground or that the larger crystals seemed to have been made into improvised fortresses? Yes there have been one or two things. One thing concerns me though, I thought this place was supposed to be covered in storms?"
"Must have let up for the day. Either way, I'm not complaining. I've got my hands full with the flak. I don't need a lightning bolt zapping my tail."
"Indeed."
At that moment, a large flak burst exploded in front of the bomber, slightly to the left side. Smith came back on again, his voice frantic.
"Captain! We've been hit! The number two engine is burning!" This sent Bertram into full damage control mode.
"Jacob! Hit the fire suppression switch, there! Hit it for the number two engine, I'll try to restart it!"
Jacob pulled a red-handled switch over his seat and Bertram saw smoke start coming from the number two (inner left) engine. He quickly pressed the starter switch and hoped it wasn't a fuel line hit. The engine sputtered and the propellor turned once, twice, three times before starting to spin.
Bertram breathed a sigh of relief, or at least he halfway did as the number two engine blew flames forward through the propellor and seized. The propellor broke free from the engine and was sent hurtling through the air like a Blue Isles 'throwing star'. He gazed after the falling engine piece with a somewhat horrified yet bemused expression then looked to see the engine continue smoking. He vaguely was aware of Jacob asking him what was wrong and he sighed.
"We lost something. Kill the number two engine."
"What happened?"
"It seized and we lost a propellor. We're down to three engines now." Jacob looked at Bertram for a moment then sat back in his seat.
"Crap."
"That's what I say to." Smith came on the intercom, he sounded rather pleased.
"The enemy fortifications here are light. They are obviously expecting an air attack such as a bombing run but it doesn't look like their equipped or prepared for a full scale ground assault. I do believe we've found the enemy's weak spot. Furthermore, Captain, per your request, I seem to have located a spot that looks vaguely like what one would expect of a dragon den. The ruins of a destroyed castle are primarily blocking the way but it is there, and it does appear to be untouched. We have our answer. Instead of an overland assault, we shall island hop to Concurrent Skies, cross the strait there and then flank the bulk of the gnorc/Rotiart mixed forces. A tactic straight from your Father's playbook, I believe."
"Good work, radio this discovery to command and I'll aim us to the next objective."
"The next objective is a small town halfway between Warfang and the first recon point. According to her last sighting, Lady Flaire was engaged with two dread griffons and she fell into the firest after being struck by one in a mid-air collision. This is more of a search and rescue request than an actual military objective. Kind of like your goodwill mission, sir."
"Okay escorts, this next point is close to Warfang, if you're low on fuel or bullets, now's the time to break off a few at a time to refuel and rearm."
"303 here, we're down to about half our fuel capacity. We'll take the first leave if no one else objects."
"This is Hammer, I seem to have a catch in my engine. I think I may have caught a piece of flak earlier and it's rattling around in there, I'll be right behind you."
As Jake and the 303rd split off and returned to base, Bertram and his remaining escorts flew on to the next, and last checkpoint.
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(meanwhile)
Dieter relaxed in his chair as he had just finished sorting out the last of the paperwork. Just because he was Rotiart's Ace of Aces didn't mean an end to paperwork (much to his chagrin). Put him in a plane and he was ready for anything. Put him behind a desk with a mountain of paperwork and he was just as confused as a baby raccoon and about as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs.
He was just about to pour himself a drink when his second in command, Jyne, threw open the door with an incredulous expression on his face.
"Captain, an enemy recon bomber has been spotted over Concurrent Skies and is retreating. Intel believes that Bertram de Launces is piloting it." Dieter looked at his wingman and huffed.
"Well what the devil is he doing in a bomber? And just what are we supposed to do about a recon bomber? Can't the gnorcs deal with it?"
"Their planes were shot down or chased off by the escort fighters. Cowards." Dieter sighed and nodded. He knew full well the indignation the squadron would feel at being ordered to perform a 'fly swat', shooting down a recon bomber that was generally weakly armored and lightly armed.
"Very well, rouse the squadron. We're going hunting."
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Bertram checked his map and nodded, keying the intercom.
"Smith, according to my map we should be near the village, you see anything yet?"
"Nothing but forest. Remember sir, they're moles, they may just build downinstead of up like we humans do. Wait a moment...slow us down I see something...looks like a...yes! It's a crash pattern! Looks dragon-sized to me. Sir, you think she's alive?"
At that moment, a gout of fire exploded in the air. Bertram nodded.
"Flaire's a fire dragoness, right? I think we've found her unless there was anither fire dragon that got lost around here."
"Nope, she's the only one. I'm radioing the location now."
"Copy that. Jacob, open the bomb bay doors and drop the care package for her. It contains some food, health, and mana crystals for her as well as a note that help is on the way." Jacob saluted and unbuckled himself.
"Yes, sir."
As they passed over the sight of the fire blast, Jacob opened the bomb bay doors and dropped a large crate with parachutes to help it drop safely onto the forest floor. He then closed the door back and Bertram heard him over the radio.
"Bomb bay doors closed, sir. Package has been delivered."
"All right everyone, let's go home."
Bertram looked up into the sky gazing to see how long he'd been up when he saw a group approaching. He recognized the shape and cursed.
"Enemy planes incoming! Man your guns! Escorts, we've got fighters coming in fast and we need some help, what's your ETA?"
Somewhere in between flying from Concurrent Skies and arriving here, their escorts all started to run low on fuel and had no choice but to peel off and leave the bomber unprotected. Bertram pushed the bomber down and hoped he could make a run for it. As he leveled out at two-thousand feet, the radio came to life.
"This is 242 Squadron, Bertram, we've just landed and have begun refueling, ETA five minutes!"
"I'm afraid we don't even have one minute. These planes are Rotarian. I may be crazy, but it looks like Dieter Muntz and the 215 Squadron."
At that moment, a plane with a reaper emblem came in and strafed the nose of the plane. Bertram heard bullets rip through the metal plates and heard glass shatter below. He clicked the intercom, worried.
"Smith! Smith you alright?"
"Y-Yeah, I'm good. Just finished transmitting the report so that we at least have completed our mission. I'm manning the nose gun-"
Again the same plane flew by and peppered the nose. Bertram felt his heart sink as the intercom went quiet. He spoke again and again but it was no use. Smith was gone. The report of the tail gun snapped him out of it and he banked the plane hard right as the same plane, again, came in to strafe the cockpit.
Instead it's bullets struck the number four (outer right) engine and it began to splutter and whine as it tried to rev back up. Bertram turned on the radio and transmitted something he'd hoped he'd never have to transmit.
"Mayday! Mayday! Mayday! This is bomber 2275. Under heavy sustained enemy attack. I've lost my nose gunner and am down to two engines! Repeat: One casualty and two engines down! Any reinforcements, please hurry!"
Suddenly the plane lurched and he heard an ear-piercing shriek of metal grinding on metal as the sputtering engine finally stopped. More bullets pierced the armor and Bertram suddenly felt as if a red-hot poker had just stabbed him in the arm. Looking down, he saw a hole in his jacket and a dark red stain starting to spread. Bertram keyed the radio, this time gritting his teeth against the pain.
"This is bomber 2275, I've been hit! I repeat, I've been shot!"
Another plane strafed the fuselage and he heard a yell from the tail as well as something sounding like metal buckling and grinding. He pushed the throttle for the remaining two engines to full as the intercom came on.
"Captain! An enemy plane just strafed the tail! The frame's been damaged and I've been hit! Help!"
Bertram knew he couldn't do anything yet he found himself locking the controls and stepping out of the cockpit and starting towards the tail, every step making him arm hurt worse than before. He made it past the station where a top gunner would be stationed when he felt the plane lurch again and he gasped in horror as a large crack appeared in the tail section and heard several rivets pop out of their sockets and bounce around inside.
He watched the crack widen and move slowly, almost creeping, around the fuselage and he saw Jacob, he was bleeding from his chest and was pinned to his gun by a piece of the frame that had been broken by a cannon round. He stared at Bertram with a pleading look in his eyes. Bertram took one more step and that's when it happened.
More cannon rounds ripped through the bomber just in front of Bertram, shredding what little of the armor and frame was left. Bertram had just enough time to grab hold of a frame piece when he heard Jacob scream and then watched as the tail section seperated from the body of the plane and begin to fall away. At the same time another explosion sent shrapnel through the cockpit, destroying the controls as well as the throttles, causing another engine to stop.
Fighting the air current trying to rip him from the plane. He made it to the cockpit where the parachutes were and saw the altimeter starting to drop and felt the plane beginning to roll. He keyed the radio one last time.
"Mayday! Mayday! Mayday! This is bomber 2275, we are hit and are going down! I repeat we are going down! I've lost both my nose gunner and tail gunner and cannot maintain flight. Damage too severe. I am bailing out!"
Not waiting any longer, Bertram grabbed the parachute from behind his seat and ran for the opening in the fuselage where the tail had once been attached. A large explosion from one of the engines forced his hand as the bomber began to spin. He leapt, looking back just in time to see the right wing rip free from the fuselage, and pulled the string.
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Joshua sat visiting with his sister and her family. He sadly gazed at Spyro who still stood by Cynder as they waited for the report of the lair's location. As Ignitus was about to say somethingthere was a knock at the door. Joshua moved to get it and when he opened the door, Thera could see him step back revealing two officers who came in.
Spyro looked at these new arrivals with hope yet something about them spoke to something ominous. Spyro rose from his position, joints creaking, as he neared them.
The lead officer took a deep breath and nodded.
"Lady Magothera, Commander. I'm afraid I must inform you that while on the recon mission, your brother, Bertram, was shot down behind enemy lines. Radio reports indicate that he has bailed out but we cannot assertain his health or even if he survived the jump as the plane was at five-hundred feet when it came apart. Until we find him, he has been declared as MIA, Missing In Action."
Thera looked as if she was about to faint until Ignitus stood by her, a worried look on his face. As the first officer turned away, the second one spoke.
"Ma'am. That's not the entirety of the situation. An earlier report states that they found a possible location for this Lair of Tomar. It is in Concurrent Skies, behind enemy lines, in the ruins of a fortress that was destroyed some time ago. Rest assured we are sending in search teams and pilots to fly the area. Your brother won't stay missing for long. We'll find him. All we ask for is time."
The two officers left the house. As soon as the door shut, Thera broke down and began to weep. Ignitus rushed to comfort her and Spyro stood there dumbfounded. He had just learned the location of the Lair of Tomar, yet he also learned that his daughter-in-law's baby brother was now missing somewhere in lands that, to the unwary, were dangerous and made even more so by the presense of hostile forces. He looked to Cynder and though he couldn't see a sign, he knew she was weeping as well. He watched as Ignitus placed a wing over Thera and cradled her neck in his.
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Ayatane looked at the bulletin board that showed the planes for the recon mission. Looking at Bertram's name, he saw the same mark by his friend's name.
Bertram de Launces: Captain, 242 Sqdn. Modified B4-L, Recon duty. F.T.R.
Failed To Return.
He silently cursed himself, his plane still had half a tank of fuel and could have stayed with him a little while longer yet he wanted to err on the side of caution and turned with the rest of the group to refuel. He had been on the runway preparing to sortie when Bertram's last transmission came over the radio. The commander had then quickly came over the radio and base intercom and gave an order no one wanted to obey:
All planes, stand down. Do not sortie.
One of the pilots from the 303rd as well as Kani had indeed taken off against orders and were at present, spending a night in the brig for disobeying orders. Not that he could blame them, nor could the commander which was the reason for one night instead of a week.
He heard something behind him and turned to come face to face with Sahne who looked just as worried as he did. In a rare show of emotion, Ayatane allowed himself to worry over his friend and comrade. He felt Sahne wrap her arms around him and somehow he seemed to calm. He gazed into her eyes, she gazed into his.
Whether they intended to or not, the two of them leaned inward towards each other.
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Wow, all right! All right! All right! I am on a roll! I just noticed this but I've been cranking out a chapter per week. Can I keep it up? I'm betting myself that I can.
So, Bertram is MIA, the Lair has possibly been located, and the battle is beginning to escalate. A hunt for an MIA pilot in the midst of a battle...Does that ring any bells for anyone?
Next Time: Missing In Action.