Nath stared down at the drawing, his brows furrowed. The reds and oranges of the flames, the silver and grey paint scheme of the plane disappearing into the fireball, the large red circle on the tail. With another stroke of his stylus, he added a few cracks to the wall, scorch marks streaking the side of the building. Finally, he pushed the tablet aside and held it out to Marc. "What do you think?"
Marc hummed pensively but nodded. "That's exactly how I envisioned it," he agreed. "It's an evocative image - especially with another pair of planes flying overhead."
"Pity so much of this is a tragedy."
Pearl Harbor, December 7, 1941
"Aren't you glad we came out here?" asked William, squeezing Rosa's hand and smiling down at her, taking in the light, airy sundress she had chosen to wear this morning. The cool breeze blowing in from the ocean whipped her hair around her head, and she reached her free hand up to tuck her hair back behind her ear, the corners of her eyes crinkling as she returned his smile. Off to the left, the steady, rhythmic crashing of waves breaking against the shore, coupled with the cawing of seagulls, the salt sea air… everything was perfect. Or almost so. He patted his front pocket, schooling his features to conceal his excitement.
"What, do you mean out for a walk on the beach this early in the morning?" asked Rosa, quirking an eyebrow at him in amusement. "Or do you mean Hawaii in general?"
"A little of both," admitted William, grinning. Throwing out his free arm, he gestured down toward the harbor below, the dozens of ships moored in rows along the Navy Yard. "White sandy beaches, sparkling blue water… the evenings at the hotel?" He wagged his eyebrows, planting a kiss on her temple.
Rosa's cheeks took on a light pink hue, and she looked away. "Yes – it really has been an amazing trip!" she agreed, nodding. Squeezing his hand, she leaned in closer, pressing against his side.
Twirling her around without releasing her hand, William wrapped his arm around her back, placing their interlinked hands on her hip, and hugged her, taking in the floral scent of her shampoo. Rosa paused, and he turned to face her, pulling her into a hug and pressing a kiss to her lips. Without hesitating, she threw her arms around his neck and returned the kiss, her eyes closing. William held her close and sighed, finally breaking the kiss to rest his forehead against hers. "You are worth it," he whispered. "I would give you the world, if I could."
"When I'm with you," she murmured back, "I already have the world."
"I love you so much," he told her, before pulling her into another searing kiss. She hummed against his lips, hugging him back tightly. He sighed in contentment. After all the stress, after all the busyness of the last few years, this was exactly what they had needed. Something to get their minds off of Lobo Cinzento's latest briefing and the headlines that had been dominating the daily papers for the last week and more. A moment of normalcy in the midst of so much confusion and fear. Finally, William pulled back from Rosa and smiled tenderly as she opened her eyes.
"I love you, too," she whispered, her breath ghosting against his lips. Smiling, she eased back slightly in his arms. "I'd been worried that with the war, we might not be able to get away, or that travel would be a problem. But this trip, it's been… special," she murmured, her voice taking on a husky tone. "And especially last night…"
He grinned, taking her hand again and leading the way further down along the boardwalk running above the harbor. "I promised I'd take your breath away; would you say I succeeded?"
She nodded and gave him a smile, though it faltered. "But, Will…" He hummed. She let out a breath, looking down at their intertwined fingers. "What are we doing?"
He cocked his head to one side. "What do you mean? We're enjoying a nice Sunday morning stroll along the beach together…"
She shook her head. "Not that. I mean us: what are we? Don't get me wrong, I love what we have – I love you, so much more than I ever thought it possible to love someone else." She swallowed. "But is this all we're going to be?"
"You know," he mused, slipping one hand into his pocket, "I've actually been giving that question a lot of thought lately. You know I love you, Rosa. You really are my whole world – the hardest times in my life over the last ten years have been whenever I had to go on a mission while you stayed behind. Ever since that first time you kicked my ass in training, I've wanted to spend every moment I could with you. And now, I can't imagine living my life without you." Rosa's eyes widened, tears forming in the corners of her eyes, as he dropped to one knee. "Rosa Lopez," he whispered, opening the box, "will you–"
BOOM! THA-BOOM! RAT-TAT-TAT! BOOM!
William froze, the words catching in his throat, as a dozen explosions rang out from the direction of the naval base below them and a little further along the waterfront. His grip on Rosa's hand tightened; rising to his feet, he pulled her in close, turning just in time to watch the eruption when an explosive – a torpedo? – struck the edge of the dock near a minesweeper. Smoke billowed from three battleships moored in a row on the other side of the harbor. A white trail of foam streaked through the water below them, narrowly missing one of the battleships and detonating on the bottom. At least a score of planes zoomed overhead; William looked up just in time to spot the large red meatballs on the underside of their wings. "What the hell!?"
Rosa gasped, grabbing onto him tightly as he huddled over her, shielding her with his own body. Four of the planes broke out of formation and dropped low, coming toward them rapidly over land. "I thought the U.S. wasn't at war with Japan!" she yelped, peeking out under his arm.
"Well clearly they don't feel the same!" William retorted, just as the four planes' machine guns opened up, strafing the boardwalk in their direction. He gritted his teeth, his eyes flashing with rage. "Ursaa, Waken wrath!" The first of the bullets reached Ë'nyadö' as the brown flash of light illuminated him, the miraculous suit forming around him as all four planes fired. The first round struck just after the suit had covered his forearm, and he let out a hiss at the pressure, though the pain was almost immediately overpowered by a dozen other pinpricks all along his arm and back. Beneath him, Rosa let out a shout. Ë'nyadö' clamped his eyes shut a moment too late; spots of purple light danced in his vision. A pair of quill arrows shot out from under his arms, and two Japanese fighters veered sideways and crashed into each other in a fiery explosion. The two surviving fighters split in opposite directions, just as another quill passed through the space that one of them had occupied moments before. Finally, Ë'nyadö' straightened up, helping Arquera to her feet, and looked around at the chaos surrounding them. "Fuck!"
A dozen Navy ships were on fire up and down the harbor, a couple of them already listing to one side. Sailors floated in the water where they had jumped from their ships; on shore, the roads and sidewalks were choked with men running toward the dock. Bombers continued to streak overhead, releasing their payloads into the mass of close-moored vessels as constant explosions rocked the ships. All at once, a torpedo bomber erupted in a fiery explosion as it made its attack run, tearing apart on the surface of the water. Anti-aircraft guns began to come to life across the harbor. A dive bomber rushed straight into a hail of bullets directly overhead, and the plane burst apart, scattering debris over the ship's deck. Ë'nyadö' gritted his teeth, shielding his eyes as another explosion flashed up from a battleship, which almost immediately began belching black smoke. Flames danced on the water.
"Damn it!" Arquera growled, releasing another spine that fell well short of a dive bomber which released its payload pointblank into the top deck of a destroyer. "Most of them are too high and too far!" She frowned, scanning the rooftops closer to the harbor. "If I were down there, closer to the target–"
"No!" Ë'nyadö' grabbed her shoulders, his eyes wide. "No! You can't do that! You have to get to safety!"
Arquera pushed his arms roughly away. "You don't get to tell me what I can and can't do! I'm a miraculous holder just like you are!" she retorted, her eyes flashing. "I'm not going to run and hide while people are in danger!"
He groaned, looking up at the plane-choked sky and then back at the ships. He wanted to fight her on this – so badly. What if something happened to her? But as explosions erupted around them, his stomach clenched. He couldn't afford to wait and argue. People needed him – they needed both of them. Reluctantly, he pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Fine. But stay safe."
She pulled him down into a quick kiss on the lips. "Only if you do the same."
He grinned, releasing her and sprinting down toward the water. "'Safe' is my middle name!" he called back as he dove in. Quickly, he swam the short distance to the closest minesweeper, grabbing onto a handhold just below the surface and scrambling halfway up before springing up onto the deck. Four sailors were still on the deck, trying to fight the fire pouring out of a hole that had reached most of the way through the ship from a hole that had penetrated through almost to the hull. "You're not going to save the ship!" Ë'nyadö' shouted to the four, grabbing a man lying near the stern of the ship, most of his leg missing. "You have to abandon ship!"
"We're staying!" one of the sailors retorted, as Ë'nyadö' jumped ashore and lay the wounded sailor next to one of the mooring posts.
"They're still alive down there!" another called, throwing a heat-resistant blanket over the hatch on the far side of the boat and starting to twist it open.
"Your funeral," Ë'nyadö' muttered, jumping back onto the boat and grabbing two more injured men and lowering them to shore. By that point, another three men had made it out of the hatch and collapsed on the deck, gasping for air. Giving the sailors an evaluating look, Ë'nyadö' climbed to the top of the minesweeper and jumped from there to the light cruiser moored next to it, grabbing onto the railing and hauling himself onboard.
The scene here was little different from the minesweeper: debris clogged the deck, a fire raged uncontrolled at the helm, and damage control teams fought desperately to extinguish the fire. Dozens of dying and injured sailors lay around – as he watched, a man with half his face burned off stumbled out of the hold, an unconscious sailor draped over his shoulders. The man hardly gave Ë'nyadö' a glance before stumbling back below the deck. Gunfire erupted from the foredeck as two of the antiaircraft guns came to life, just before the Japanese fighters came in low to strafe the line of ships. One fighter turned over and disappeared into the waves; three others peeled off.
Gritting his teeth, Ë'nyadö' began grabbing the wounded men and handing them down one after another to the rescue workers on the ground, but for every man he got off, three more seemed to appear. Slowly, the cruiser began to list to one side, away from the dock, as water poured in through a gaping hole in the hull, just below the waterline. Ë'nyadö' shifted his weight, trying to keep his balance; one of the sailors near him wasn't so lucky, fell over the side, and swam to the dock. A low grinding sound emanated from somewhere below deck, and one of the sailors gave Ë'nyadö' a worried look. Finally, Ë'nyadö' grabbed three of the men who were too injured to move on their own, climbed over the gunwale onto the side of the listing ship, and slid down to the dock, laying the injured men on the ground as, behind him, the cruiser tilted almost all the way over before its tilt was arrested by cables.
The gunfire around the harbor seemed to have abated. Glancing back up the shoreline, Ë'nyadö' spotted Arquera standing atop the tallest hotel building in the line closest to the water's edge, firing quill after quill into the air. Many fell short, but two struck dive bombers mid-dive, forcing them to pull up in order to avoid crashing into the ground. Behind her, the sky seemed to have cleared for the first time since the nightmare had begun.
"Not as many planes as there were at first," Arquera reported into their communicators.
"Don't get sloppy," Ë'nyadö' warned, moving from the cruiser to the tender next to it. "They probably just ran short of ammo and returned to their ship to rearm and refuel."
He could almost hear her grin. "I'm never sloppy."
Gritting his teeth, watching the skies above with one eye, Ë'nyadö' worked his way down the line of stricken ships, evacuating the wounded, moving debris away from portholes, opening hatches that had been jammed shut. The last of the Japanese bombers had turned back, leaving the skies clear, apart from a couple American fighters. Finally, almost an hour after the first bombs had fallen, the anxiety in Ë'nyadö's chest started to ease.
But then, as Ë'nyadö' was just reaching the battleship at the end of the line, he heard the sound again: whistling of bombs falling. "Incoming!" he shouted, waving his hand and pointing up toward the sky. A dozen more dive bombers streaked down toward them. As one, the ship's antiaircraft batteries whirred to life, firing wildly at the diving formation.
Suddenly, there was a cry of pain over the communicator. Ë'nyadö' spun around, his eyes widening in terror. A squadron of Japanese fighters dove toward the harbor, strafing the rooftop where Arquera had been. Arquera dove for the far side of the roof, rolled, to her feet, and a dozen quills streaked up into the mass of planes. Three burst apart into flames… only to fall onto the roof, swallowing the entire building into a massive fireball.
"Rosa!"