Chapter 6: The Phantom Menace

Alexis sighed as she stretched her back against the rough bark of the tree she had been leaning against. She set her novel off to the side and laid her head back against the tree, savoring its cool, shady goodness while the area around her little haven baked in the desert sun.

After visiting the computer lab she had spent most of the day curled up at the tree's base losing herself in a reality far from her own. That's what she loved about books; they allowed someone, such as herself, the opportunity to be lost in another world and to temporarily forget their own troubles and tribulations. It gave her mind a much-needed reprieve, but as wonderful as her novel was it couldn't completely block out the persistent thoughts that nagged the back of her mind. It wasn't long until her mind once again began to churn over the new information she had learned on her ghostly antagonist. It just didn't seem right. At some point in time she would have to see if those two veterans were still living, and if they were, ask them some questions about their wingleader and that fateful battle. It seemed like a proper course of action. But could she pull it off without tall, dark, and eerie finding out?

She pulled out the piece of paper with the images of the three Decepticon jets printed boldly on the front. They were Eagles, like the jets her squadron flew and the image showed them flying in the classic V-formation. Two jets flew behind and slightly to either side of the flight lead. The one on the right was a brilliant shade of royal blue with vibrant red and white pinstripes adorning the leading edge of the wings and also on the two mostly black tailfins. The jet flying to the left, more closely resembled the Strike Eagle in paint scheme, but it too was a single-seat Eagle. Its scheme was a flat black, and where red and white stripes had been on the blue jet's wings, this one sported a brilliant shade of violet and white. The tailfins were black and also sported violet and white pinstripes. But it was the lead jet that drew Alexis's eye the longest. Of the three it was the most colorfully painted. Most of the body appeared to be either a flat white or silver. The air intakes were a gleaming ruby red and the two tailfins were a dazzling royal blue with red and white pinstripes. The wings were striped as well. If Alexis didn't know any better, she would have sworn this Decepticon was trying to pass itself off as an Eagle-version of the Thunderbirds.

All three jets were outfitted with two massive, yet streamlined cannons mounted on the underside of each wing. They also sported a dark purple, sharp-pointed, face-like insignia centered on each wing. Alexis presumed that was the Decepticon emblem referenced in the article. She found it incredible that these three jets brought down the crème-de-la crème of the Air Force; 18 Eagles flown by the best pilots the United States had to offer, annihilated in five minutes and 45 seconds. It was mind boggling.

"Where did you find that?"

Alexis nearly leaped from her skin. Her head whirled around to see Coldstone craning his neck over her shoulder trying to view the picture better.

"None of your business!" she snapped, beginning to cram the paper into her knapsack. However, Coldstone had other ideas. He grabbed her hand which held the knapsack and with the other, yanked the piece of paper out of the bag before Alexis could even react. His reflexes were almost as fast as his trigger finger.

"Stoner! You asshole! Give that back this instant!" she demanded, making a grab for the print-out. He easily held it above her head and for a moment the two adults looked like children on a playground, one taunting the other with a desirable item just out of hand's reach.

"Not until you tell me what's this all about," Coldstone replied, easily dodging Alexis's attempts to nab the paper in question.

"Why are you so goddamn interested in my life all of a sudden!?" she countered irritably, still making half-hearted attempts at grabbing her paper; however, at this point she was reluctantly accepting that Coldstsone was not to be so easily dismissed this time.

"Because things that impact your life, impact your ability to make decisions, commander," his voice leaden with accusation. "And with everything that has happened in the last month, you can't stand here and tell me you're fine! So, either you tell me what the hell is going on with you or I report you to the wing commander for being mentally compromised. And given the recent events, I don't think I'll have to try too hard."

Alexis froze upon hearing his words, incredulity and astonishment stunning her in place.

"You wouldn't," the words hoarse in response.

"Try me," he replied, eyes narrowing and a slight smirk pulling on the corner of his lips. It was a checkmate move and he knew it. If Alexis wanted to continue flying, she would have to make a choice. He watched with mild amusement as she slowly settled and regained herself.

Alexis took a deep breath and leveled Coldstone with narrowed green eyes. "Fine. I'll…tell you, but not here," she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

His smirk widened as he brought the photo down to eye-level. As his eyes took in the picture, his smirk became more thoughtful, and a puzzled crease marred his brow. "Why do you have a picture of the Seekers?" he asked, handing her back the print-out.

Alexis took the photocopy and hastily placed it within her bag. "You know about them?" she countered; her own brows scrunched in curiosity.

"Maybe," Coldstone replied elusively, mirroring Alexis's pose. "Looks like we both have something to share, don't we?" the smirk returned, and his eyes twinkled with mild amusement.

Never had Alexis wanted to punch someone so badly as she did in that moment. But such an action, while giving her immediate satisfaction, would only reinforce his belief that she was unfit for duty. And that was not an option.

"So it would seem," she mumbled not entirely under her breath.

"How about this. Let's talk over dinner."

Alexis's eyes widened in surprise and her breath caught. "Have dinner…with you!?"

"You know, you say it as if it's an insult," he quipped, one eyebrow raised in mock injury.

"Uh, oh, well, it's not that; it's just I'm surprised, that's all. I thought you couldn't stand me and now you want to have dinner with me?" she said, stumbling over her words.

There was a beat of silence and then Coldstone laughed heartily. "I never hated you, Spades. Did I think you were a bitch at times? Yes, but, come on. So can anyone now and again. But, I can't say that I hated you. You're the best in the squadron; of course, I'm gonna gun for you. A little healthy competition keeps everyone on their toes, right?"

Alexis finally allowed herself a small grin. "I guess," she replied.

"So how about that dinner? Let's say Joe's at 1900 sharp?" As he spoke, he offered her a hand in truce. She took it firmly and returned it with a solid shake.

"OK."

It was later in the evening when Alexis arrived back at her apartment. Tomcat was fully dressed in her flight suit and was making final preparations to leave. She looked up at Alexis's entry and paused for a moment, the goofy grin on her friend's face not going unnoticed.

"I haven't seen you grinning like that since you put grease on the men's toilet seats back in UPT," she said. "Mind telling me what's got you so happy?"

"Promise you won't get mad?" Alexis countered, her grin turning into a sly smirk.

"All right, Spades, what did you do?" Tomcat asked in a manner that reminded Alexis of her mother.

"I'm going out to dinner with Coldstone," she said matter-of-factly, her green eyes still alight with amusement.

"What!? OK, who are you and what have you done with my friend, Spades?"

Alexis huffed exaggeratedly and playfully threw a couch pillow at Tomcat's face. "I'm serious! I can barely believe I agreed to go myself."

"What evil, incarnated spirit possessed you to do so?" Clarissa asked surreptitiously.

Alexis flinched at the comment, but Tomcat seemed unphased by her friend's slight reaction. "I-I don't know," she replied, "It just kinda happened."

"Spades, dates with squadron archrivals don't 'just happen'," Tomcat countered. "Come on; tell me," she pleaded. "How did it happen? Did you ask or did he ask? Where were—"

"Cat, one question at a time!" Alexis replied, holding her hands up. "Well, I decided to go to the park to catch up on my reading and just chill for the day, when he walked up behind me and about scared the crap outta me. We bickered and argued, like usual, one thing led to another and then out of the blue he asked me out."

"Just like that?" Tomcat asked dubiously, hands on her hips.

"Just like that," Alexis confirmed.

"Ah, well you'll have to let me know how it went when I get back," Tomcat said, shouldering her satchel and one other bag.

"Mission?" Alexis hypothesized, looking at the equipment her friend was handling.

"You guessed it. A cross-country; I'll fly back in sometime tomorrow evening, so let me know how it goes," the redhead said, she threw a wave over her shoulder, which Alexis returned, and walked out the door, the catch clicking shut with finality.

Well, now that that's over with, she thought to herself. She threw her book onto the couch and jogged into the bedroom. She only had a couple hours to get ready and there was a lot she had to do.

A firm knock on the door, drew Alexis's head out of the bedroom. She was just finishing putting the finishing touch of hairspray to her style when she heard the knock.

"One minute!" she called, setting the can down and walking to the door. She opened it quickly and stood back, eyes wide with surprise. In the doorway stood a grinning Coldstone Stoner and what a handsome sight he did make. Coldstone was wearing a nice set of khaki slacks with dark brown dress shoes and a nice sage-colored, button-up dress shirt that really highlighted the green specks within his eyes. To finish his outfit, he wore an A-2 style leather aviator jacket decorated with the squadron's patch as well as others he had earned and collected over the years. His normally spiky, sandy colored hair was combed flat on top with only the leading edge over his forehead spiked upwards.

He grinned mischievously when he saw Alexis standing in the doorway, which earned him an embarrassed smile in return. Alexis liked to dress up for semi-formal occasions, but when she did, she felt vulnerable and a little on edge. It wasn't something she did every day and the change in routine made her feel self-conscious.

The lieutenant's eyes swept over her figure, taking everything in a brief, measured glance. Alexis wore an elegant but simple, dark blue satin dress with a V-neck front. The front of the dress accented her bosom just enough. She wore a simple diamond and pearl pendant that had been her mother's, along with matching studs in her ears. Her make-up was light but accentuated her beautiful green eyes. Her chocolate-colored, shoulder-length hair was down and curled inward towards her face, framing her delicate cheek bones. She was both simple and elegant, a picture of beauty that very few had ever seen outside of uniform.

"You look beautiful, Captain," Coldstone said, sincerity plain within his voice.

"Thank you, Coldstone, and please, just Spades or Alexis will do," she said with a slight laugh at his formalness. It was strange, coming from him and yet gratifying. Perhaps they had finally reached a point of mutual respect.

She turned and locked the door. He offered her his elbow and she took it gratefully.

"You know, this whole time we've been in this squadron, I don't think I've heard how you got your callsign. If you don't mind my asking, how did you come by it?"

She looked up at him and shrugged her shoulders. "I don't mind. It's rather simple really. When I was still training back in UPT my instructor was impressed with my ability to handle the aircraft. I had no prior experience with planes or flight or anything of that nature, but for me it was almost like second nature. My instructor told me that I had 'talent in spades.' Word got back around to the others in my class and it kinda stuck."

"Ah, I see." He gave her a playful nudge with his elbow before letting go and opening the passenger side door of his vehicle. Alexis paused just a moment to admire the gleaming piece of machinery before her. It was a metallic blue Mazda RX-8. Its metallic chip paint shimmered in the final rays of the evening sun. The leather seats were warm and inviting as Alexis slid into the car and fastened her seatbelt.

"Nice car," she offered. Coldstone slid into the driver's seat and started the engine. It purred to life with a gently thrum; it didn't possess the throaty roar like most American muscle cars, but this vehicle was no slouch in the horsepower department either. Coldstone grinned once more and slipped the car into gear—a manual. Despite herself, Alexis was beginning to like her squadronmate's taste in vehicles.

"Thanks," he smirked just before flooring the accelerator and cutting a neat donut in the center of the parking lot. Before Alexis could regain her wits, they were tearing out of the lot and heading for town. Once on the open road, Coldstone gave the horses' their reins and unleashed the raw power under the hood.

"Are you trying to get us into trouble!?" she exclaimed, but her green eyes were alight with excitement as the desert countryside blurred into varying shades of tans, browns, and russets. OK, she admitted it; she was a speed junkie, whether it had wheels or wings.

"Who me? You're only in trouble if ya get caught, of which I have no intention." He threw her a wink. During the ride to dinner, it wasn't long that the frosty ice between the two former rivals began to thaw. Alexis learned they had much in common: a love for all things fast and dangerous, beautiful countryside, fine cuisine, the lust to travel and many others.

On the ride to the city, she learned a little bit more of Coldstone's past. He had grown up in a small suburb on the outskirts of Charlotte, NC. Like some young boys, he had a fascination with planes, cars, trains—anything that moved and had mechanical parts really. He had graduated in the top ten percent of his class in high school and college all while maintaining top honors in college basketball and baseball. It appeared he had been quite an athlete back in the day. He had received numerous job offers and even a position serving in the White House, but he had turned them all down in favor of pursuing a career in the Air Force.

"So, what made you want to become a pilot, Coldstone? Why the Air Force? Why this life when you had so many other options, better options even?" she finally asked, once he had finished his narrative. For the first time that night, she watched Coldstone become uncomfortable. He shifted in his seat and he gripped the steering wheel a little tighter. "I'm sorry," she blurted out, turning her gaze away to stare at the floorboard. "I didn't mean to…"

"Oh, no, no! It's OK…Alexis," he turned and gave her a reassuring smile. "It's all right." He gave a long sigh before speaking again. "My dad was a pilot in the Air Force, and he was a good one too. My whole life I wanted to be just like him. I didn't see much of him, but when I did, I spent every waking minute I could with him. He was assigned to the 607th Fighter Squadron so he was TDY a good bit."

Alexis gasped slightly when she heard that, and it wasn't unnoticed by Coldstone.

"You know of them?" he asked, looking at her once more.

She paused, uncertain as to how much to divulge to him. But wasn't that what this trip was all about?

"Yes, I do. I saw an article about them," she said vaguely, trying not to reveal more information than necessary now. Still, it shocked her that Coldstone's father had been among the ranks within that famous, ill-fated squadron.

"I'm sure that article also mentioned what happened to them," he eluded, a hint of bitterness in his voice.

"Yes, it did," she replied quietly.

"I thought so." He glanced over at Alexis, his features solemn. "Spades, about earlier today…I didn't want to blackmail you and honestly, I still don't. But I am genuinely concerned for you, even more so since I saw that print-out."

Alexis stiffened. The small affinity she was beginning to feel for her fellow pilot evaporated like dew in the desert sun. Her features became more guarded as she turned to warily listen to what else Stoner had to say.

"So, with that said I'm going to start first and uphold my end of our deal." He cleared his throat and focused his attention out the windshield, but Alexis sensed his mind was far from the desert scenery. "Those jets you were looking at earlier today—they're responsible for my father's death." She glanced up and met his eyes. In that fleeting moment, Alexis never saw so much emotion flicker across another human's face—anger, resentment, sadness, bitterness. "When the Decepticons attacked Three Mile Island, Dad's squadron was called to action. They were the United State's most elite pilots as well as our only quick reaction force. The sad thing was every man knew they didn't have a snowball's chance in Hell to make it out of there alive, those alien jets were that damn good. I remember crying my eyes out, begging Dad to not go, to stay home…" he hesitated, the words following thick and heavy, "…he had promised to come to my baseball game that afternoon…" Stoner paused, took a deep, settling breath then continued. "Dad and the crew gave 'em hell, but it just wasn't enough." Then Coldstone stopped speaking altogether and became quiet.

Alexis knew her fellow pilot was trying to cope with his emotions. Now she understood why he had shown such a tenacious interest in her picture. One of these so-called Decepticons had killed her squadronmate's father. Both of her parents were still living, so she couldn't quite relate, but she could still comfort. Alexis gently placed her hand on Coldstone's arm. It was such a simple gesture, but it spoke volumes to her distressed wingman.

"Thanks," he whispered; he cleared his throat and then continued as if nothing ever happened. "Anyways, I joined the Air Force not only to follow in my father's footsteps, but to get revenge for them killing him. But, the Decepticons disappeared long before I graduated flight school and no one's seen them since. At this point I don't think I'll ever face any of the Decepticons myself, so I'm just going to settle for finishing my twenty and retiring. But on the off chance they do return, I'm here and I'm ready."

Alexis chewed over his words for a second before posing another question. "Coldstone, if these Decepticons are as good as what you say they are, have you ever stopped to consider that if your father's squadron couldn't stop them, what chance would we have now?"

He turned and looked at her, one of the most solemn and serious expressions she had ever seen on his face. "I don't know, Alexis. All I know is…" he sighed, "…all I know is if they ever show up in US air space again, I'm gonna be ready for them…I've got to be. I've got to at least try, 'cause who else is willing to be?"

A silence fell within the cabin as she mulled over his words. She wondered how many others in the squadron may know of his background. Probably not many if she had to bank on it.

"So, what about you, Spades? I've shared my side of things, are you going to tell me yours?"

She sat in silence for several long seconds, hands clasped nervously in her lap. It was the moment of truth she had simultaneously dreaded but also looked forward to if only to relieve her mental anguish. She wasn't crazy. She knew exactly what she had seen, felt, and experienced—what others were experiencing as a result. But the entire situation sounded absolutely insane, and she knew that if she elaborated to anyone, at a bare minimum she would be temporarily grounded. At worst, the command would revoke her wings. However, if she didn't speak up, how many others would suffer the same fate as Scotty? Who would be next? A wingman? Another crewmember? A silent realization flashed across her mind's eye—Crowbar.

Would they even be able to do anything? And then there was the phantom himself. She remembered the words that materialized across the radar screen all those weeks ago. Would he know? Was she willing to run that risk knowing if the ghoul found out he would more than happily harm another human being.

With a start she realized that Coldstone was, oddly enough, patiently waiting for her response. And then within all the swirling doubt, hesitations, and uncertainty an equally absurd thought struck her mind. It wasn't that long ago the world witnessed the ravages of an alien race. Were malignant ghosts truly that much larger of a leap? She took a deep breath and made her decision.

"What do you know about ghosts?"

He heard her footsteps echo within the hangar long before he saw her; however, what was more concerning was the second set of steps that accompanied her. Additionally, the cadence of her steps was all wrong. Unlike before, the sounds were sure, confident, purposeful. So too, were the other. Something had changed.

Electricity surged through the circuitry within the Eagle as its resident prepared for the inevitable meeting. A confrontation was brewing. He could feel it. So be it. It had been weeks since he last felt the wind under his wings. The long wait (even if it was due to his own actions) had left Starscream feeling irritable and restless. An outlet would be much appreciated.

The lights within the hangar illuminated, bathing the entire floor with sharp, artificial light. Shortly there after he saw her approach, her lips pressed into a thin hard line. Behind her, Starscream saw a male figure, one that he recognized from a prior flight. He'd been a rather astute specimen with a high level of suspicion directed at Alexis's competency during their last flight. Too bad the fleshling's suspicions were left unfounded when he had erased the in-flight footage. But while the film had been erased it appeared as if this human's suspicions had not. Pity.

Dear Alexis, how many more humans must suffer at your lack of comprehension? He wondered idly, watching the two pilots' approach.

Alexis and Coldstone stopped just shy of the nose of her aircraft. Her eyes darted furtively around the hangar space looking for any signs of the apparition. She should have expected Stoner to want to investigate her aircraft himself once she told him of her experiences; however, truth be told he had handled her story with significantly more poise than she had any right to expect. He hadn't called her crazy nor did he suggest she see the flight surgeon. He had merely listened as she told him everything. Afterwards, he had spun the car around and burned rubber back to the base, their dinner plans temporarily forgotten. At first, she had panicked, thinking he was taking her to the hospital himself and she had flown into a protest. No, he had assured her. This was a disconcerting mystery and one he now had a personal investment in given the details she had divulged about the specter's uniform. Given what Alexis had said, he wanted to personally investigate her machine.

As they both surveyed the jet, Alexis noticed that the gaping hole from the axe strike was no longer visible. A thin, slightly off-color strip of sheet metal was the only indication that something had ever occurred.

"You know, it's not like this guy appears whenever I want him to," she commented, eyes still warily scoping the expansive space. "He appears on a whim. It's not like I can summon him."

"I'm tracking, Spades. But I have a hunch and I want to see if my hunch is right," Coldstone replied. His green eyes roved over the aircraft from nose to stabilator. Other than the new patch, nothing looked askew. Grabbing a small maintenance stand he wheeled it closer to the leading edge of one of the wings. He parked the stand in place then climbed on top, the extra height giving him just enough of a boost to see across the wing's large, flat surface. Much to his disappointment, the wing matched the remainder of the body—a dull, flat gray.

"Looking for something?" a voice rang out, shattering the silence of the hangar.

Alexis jumped, whirling around to see where the ghost would spring from this time, but no image appeared.

To his credit, Stoner only flinched. He stepped down off the maintenance stand and walked back towards Alexis.

"Yeah! As a matter of fact, I am!" he challenged, turning in a small circle looking for the source of the voice. "Show yourself!"

"I don't take orders from scum like you," the voice countered, a dark undertone more felt that heard. Alexis shivered.

"Oh! I see. A ghost that only picks on the girls. Got it," Coldstone taunted, a sly grin pulling at his lips. Alexis glared at him before grabbing his elbow.

"What in the hell do you think you're doing!?" she whispered fiercely, "This thing killed someone! Someone we both knew and you're going to stand here taunting it!?" Incredulity filled her green eyes.

"You should listen to the girl," the voice chimed in, "You have no idea with whom you're dealing with."

"Maybe I would if you would show your face and not hide like some fucking coward!" Coldstone retorted. "Come on! Face me!"

"Be careful for what you wish, human."

The air in front of them shimmered like heat waves across a sun-scorched landscape. In seconds the likeness of Major Jake "Sniper" Stillwell appeared before them. His hands were placed on his hips and smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

"I don't believe it," Alexis heard Coldstone whisper under his breath. She felt him tense under her grasp, which prompted her to squeeze his arm just a little tighter to remind him she was still there.

"You're seeing him too?" she also whispered, her eyes focused on the transparent specter before them.

"Oh, I see him all right," Coldstone replied. Without warning he launched toward the figure, a right hook flying towards Stillwell's face.

The ghost allowed the fist to crash harmlessly through him before he responded. Thrown off from his punch that didn't land, Coldstone stumbled forward. The ghost of Stillwell neatly sidestepped and then placed two hands on Coldstone's shoulders. The pilot cried out in agony as a sharp electrical charge ripped through his body. Coldstone collapsed on the ground, dazed but still conscious.

"Stoner!" Alexis shouted, momentarily forgetting their adversary, and rushing to his side. She helped him roll over as he lay on the ground stunned.

"Are we finished with these petty games?" the ghost asked, standing above them both as before, hands on his hips. "Did you honestly think you could strike me, an ethereal being? You are either stupid or impulsive, although I would wager equal parts of both!" the spirit spat vehemently.

"You're no fucking ghost," Coldstone said with equal malevolence. "You're one of them! A Transformer! A Decepticon! I know it." He sat up slowly with the aid of Alexis. He rested his arms on his knees as he assessed the entity standing before him.

The ghost of Stillwell remained silent for several long moments, his red eyes narrowing dangerously. "In a past life you may have been correct," he replied bitterly.

"I see your little game, Decepticon. Pretend to be a ghost, scare the living daylights out of our crew, our ground team, hell, even other pilots. Even killing an innocent kid in cold blood," Coldstone struggled to his feet, Alexis standing close by. She watched in horrid fascination as the two beings faced each other. Her heart was racing, and her mind was working equally as fast. Her eyes darted towards Stoner as he continued talking. "But there's not a goddamn thing you can do now. I'm on to you and if you even think of killing me or Alexis...now that's gonna raise some serious questions, isn't it?"

"Pathetic, insignificant sack of flesh. You dare to try and manipulate me?" Stillwell snarled, rage building so intensely it was causing his image to flicker.

"Yeah! I do! What about it you disgusting, goddamn murdering walking tra-!"

"Stop! Stop it, both of you right fucking now!"

Alexis stood between the two quarreling figures, a hand pressed to each of their chests. She could feel Coldstone's pulse racing, and his clothing felt warm and damp from sweat. Conversely, much to her surprise her other hand tingled as it pushed against the ghost who felt just as solid as Coldstone. She was even more astonished that she hadn't ended up on the ground just yet—from either of them.

Silence permeated the hangar floor. When she was convinced that neither of the two were going to throw anymore punches, she slowly dropped her hands. Stillwell's ghost and Coldstone continued to glare at each other, one with eyes that burned like fire and the other with a stare as frosty as an artic winter morning. Alexis took a deep breath and then looked at the ghost.

"You said 'in a past life.' What did you mean by that?" she asked. Her hands gently returned to Coldstone's chest as she gently pushed him back two steps, lest he try to throw anymore punches.

The ghost's eyes narrowed as he replied. "I once existed, this is true. But now I am but a remnant of my former self."

"Liar," Coldstone spat venomously, "Transformers could produce holograms. It's too fucking easy for you to manipulate your image as you see fit. Using a former wing commander…well that's just sick!"

"You are quite the study of history, aren't you?" Stillwell's ghost replied as he crossed his arms.

"You could say that," Stoner ground out. Alexis felt him tensing under her hands. They were dancing dangerously close to her wingmate's past. While the events occurred many years ago, she knew the wounds were fresh and poignant for her wingmate, especially if they were dealing with a Decepticon. However, the tensions between the two seemed to have settled if only for a little and the ghost seemed willing to speak for once, so she changed tactics.

"Why are you here? What do you want?"

The ghost's eyes flicked over to her, and she met his gaze with unflinching resolve. He dropped his arms, turned on a heel and walked several paces away before replying. "Because there is nowhere else."

"So, you just decide to turn up, wreak havoc on my wing lead's aircraft, terrorize the ground crew, and kill an innocent kid and you think I'm just gonna standby and not say anything to anyone?" Stoner replied, anger building within his voice. He pushed past Alexis and stalked towards the ghost once more. Just as he drew close, the ghost vanished, and the hangar lights extinguished with a loud pop.

Coldstone whirled angrily looking blindly for his adversary when Alexis's voice stuttered in the darkness.

"Sto-ner!" he heard her gasp.

The marker lights on the jet' s wingtips suddenly glowed of their own accord, a red light on the left and a blue-green light on the right. Both lights increased in intensity well beyond normal illumination casting the immediate area around and under the wings in an eerie hue. But what was even more concerning, was the state of Alexis. She was up on her tiptoes, hands clasped to the arm that was firmly wrapped around her neck. The ghost of Stillwell held her firm, and his eyes burned with a malevolence that promised further injury.

Stoner froze, all his anger evaporating as he realized that the ghost, or Decepticon, or whatever the thing was claiming to be was about to tally a second murder.

"I've had enough of your impudence, fleshling! You want to announce my presence to the world then so be it, but you will do so at the cost of the dear captain." To emphasize his point, Stillwell tightened his hold ever so slightly. Alexis gasped, her breaths ragged and strained. "Whether you believe me or not is irrelevant, but Captain O'Conner here is more than familiar with my level of credibility when it comes to promises, aren't you Captain?"

Alexis could only gasp in response.

"Move forward with your paltry threat and I will see to it that your Captain never gets to experience her full lifespan. I am already deeply displeased that she disclosed my presence to you; however, your irritating observations of my flight patterns would have forced a reckoning between us sooner or later. This is just as well. I may be a but a shadow of my former self, but you cannot hope to best me at my own game. So, if you wish to be like the Captain here and know what it feels like to cause the death of another, then by all means, report me to your superiors; otherwise, keep your silence and leave me in peace!"

Suddenly, he shoved Alexis forward while simultaneously dissipating. Coldstone instinctively caught her as she stumbled forward, coughing and gasping for breath now that she didn't have an arm wrapped around her throat. The marker lights began to dim, and the hangar fell into deep, silent darkness.

When it was clear that the ghost wasn't going to say or do anything further, the two pilots turned and began the trek back to Coldstone's car. Stoner kept a solid arm around Alexis's waist as she recovered, her steps still wobbly from the ordeal. At one point she paused and looked up at Coldstone, a wry grin pulling at her lips.

"Well, given the circumstances, that actually went a little better than I expected."