444th Airforce Base.
July 27th, 2019 07.35
"Alright, Alright, settle down everyone…" Trigger took a deep breath as he tried bring order to the room.
Spare 12 started laughing more and more at a joke told by Count.
Trigger sighed deeply, trying not to act out and threaten someone. He glanced to Bandog, hoping the jailer could still have the air of authority to quiet everyone down.
Bandog was gone.
"Oh! Right, our good old guard dog let me know he's going to make sure McKinsey gets slowed down at every possible point. You know, to give us as much time as possible."
He turned around to glare at Full Band. "And…you're letting me know now?"
"I forgot…sorry." he shrugged. "Kinda distracted with all of this." He motions to the laptop in front of him, it was the same used by McKinsey usually, connected to the Tac screen and allowed them to use GPS, Satellite, basically everything they would need for a briefing.
Trigger just sighed. Really, it was his fault for thinking this would be easy. Getting all the pilots of Spare Squadron together in one place without threat of solitary? Complete and utter chaos. He really should be surprised something wasn't on fire or fight hadn't broken out. "Guys…"
No one reacted.
Prez frowned, looking up at him, encouraging him to keep trying.
"Guys…" He growled slightly.
Spare Twelve kept laughing.
Tabloid talked with another pilot, curiosity covered his face as everything else was zoned out.
High Roller was writing something down with Jacker trying to peer over his shoulder.
He wanted to let Bandog handle this…or Prez, or anyone else.
But, they all agreed he should be the one to handle this briefing, because he was the one everyone trusted and respected. So what did he end up doing? He stayed up way later than he should figuring out a speech and practicing it.
That however, did not make him a master at public speaking.
Nor did it make him a squadron leader.
Nor did it make him anything else than what he was…
What was he anyways? He frowned. A fai-
Thump
He hissed in pain, glancing down to see an Osean Air Defense Force Procedures Handbook sitting on his foot, the damned thing was the size of a dictionary, heavy as hell too. Maybe Clemens did get a bit of a last laugh there.
Someone cleared their throat.
He sucked in a breath, realizing that this stupid book, which he proceeded to not so gently kick off his foot to the side, had not fallen on his foot. Someone had dropped this on purpose. He slowly looked up, ready to chew out whoever da-…
Prez raised an eyebrow at him. She extended her left hand, palm upward. Then, sharply chopped with her open right hand down to the open palm. Then, while pointing up with her left index finger, made a fist with her right hand, and lightly slapped her finger twice. She finished up by pointing a finger straight at him with a bit of a glare. (stop beating yourself up)
He raised an eyebrow at that, oh…right she could read him.
She lifted her fist up next to her face, then nodded twice, waving the fist alongside. (Yes, Yes)
"Look…I don't, know if I can do this whole…talking to people thing?" He whispered lowly.
She raised an eyebrow. "I do. You doubting my judgement Trigger?"
"I…" His mouth, snapped shut. "I know what you're doing."
She smiled back at him. "I know you know."
He rolled his eyes, leaning down as he slowly picked up the heavy handbook. "Uh huh."
"And I know it's working."
He sighed, placing the handbook back on the table in front of Prez, he smiled a bit. "Perhaps, but I'd like a bit of advice…if you don't mind?"
She raised an eyebrow, but nodded and pursed her lips, thinking for a moment.
Full Band looked between the two of them, then back to the rambunctious crowd of pilots.
"How did your flight instructor used to get your attention?"
"He'd usually slam a door then yell ou-" He looked down at the heavy handbook, squinting slightly. "No…"
Prez grinned nodding quickly.
He let out a sigh. "There is no way that this works."
Full Band raised a eyebrow. "You wanna take that bet?"
Prez looked over at him, squinting.
"Ah…sorry, I hang out with High Roller to much." He held up a hand in defense.
Trigger nodded. "That's perfectly fair…unlike those odds."
Prez raised an eyebrow at him. "Sorry, what?"
He smiled slightly. "I'm thinking this won't work."
She scoffed. "Oh…so you are wanting to take that bet huh?"
"Yes, these guys are not trained military, so they'll probably be surprised or shocked, then go back to what they were doing before."
"Nah, I say this is going to work perfectly because it's you. We've slowly wormed our way in as the unofficial squadron leaders, along with the…rumors about you." She grinned.
"Rumors?"
"Noooot important right now!" She grinned. "So what do you say Full Band?"
"Oh I'm absolutely on your side here Prez, even without the rumors and whispers I hear around the base."
"What rumors?" Trigger raised his hands in confusion.
Prez waved him off. "What do you think…ten dollars good?"
"I think so yes." Full Band nodded slowly. "That should be fair, we don't want to rob him blind." He placed down a ten dollar bill.
She smiled brightly. "Yeah, we shouldn't take to much money, right?" She placed down two fives. "Trigger?"
He squinted at them slightly, let out a breath, before putting down a ten dollar bill as well. "I'm keeping my eye on you two." He held out his hand. "Book."
Prez smirked. "Oh come on, you know me, I'm perfectly innocent."
He scoffed. "Suuurrrreeee. Perfectly innocent indeed." He lifted up the heavy book in both of his hands. "Ready to loose ten bucks?"
"Oh absolutely."
Trigger rolled his eyes, held the book out to the side, stretched his neck, and let go.
BAM
Everyone in the briefing room jumped, silence reigned as everyone quickly looked towards the front of the room.
"Spare Squadron!" Trigger bellowed out the name. "I hope you've all got your extracurricular activities settled for the day?"
He slowly released a breath, and winced slightly. Why on earth did he say that?! Really?
Oh god they were going to start laughing in a few moments he new it.
Extracurricular activities?! What are they? High Schoolers?
"Ummm…yes sir!"
And there was the sa-…Wait.
Jacker had called out, not a hint of sarcasm in his voice.
Trigger froze for a moment, looking up slightly to see, every, single, person in the room, sitting completely upright, focused on him, and silent. Even Spare 12 had stopped laughing, in fact he looked scared half to death.
"Told you." Prez chuckled, passing his ten over to Full Band, taking one of the fives for herself.
He rolled his eyes slightly. "Good! We've got to have a talk here guys."
"About what Trigger? You kinda just, called us here without any warning. I hate to be the one asking this…but where's McKinsey?" Count looked confused as hell.
Time to fill them in then. "McKinsey is not needed right now. This is just a private conversation between all of us Spare members." He clapped his hands together, pushing the handbook to the side with his right foot. "Now then, as I'm sure you all know, there's been a lot of theories about what the next mission will be."
High Roller chuckled slightly. "Oh absolutely."
"Well, we're here to clear up any more outlandish theories." Prez stood up slowly. "Along with providing a plan of attack."
Tabloid squinted at them, a bit of worry starting to cover his face. "Wait…what's going on?"
"Look…I know we all take this pretty lightly most of time since we're…not…an official squadron." Trigger looked around the room, gauging his pilot's reactions.
Most of the pilots present nodded slowly.
"However, today we are going to be handling this like an official squadron, starting with a proper briefing. So, first thing's first. Our Target." He motioned to the Tac Screen.
Full Band nodded, pulling up a satellite image.
"Erusea's Waiapolo communications and radar center. It's a natural stronghold even with it's consistently calm weather and a dangerous defense system in place. I heard rumors about this place back when I was a peacekeeper, and they weren't pretty. Along with that there is the possibility of peacekeeper interference. I will be honest, this mission will not be easy."
Prez quickly strode forward. "Look…the Lone Wolf stuff ends here guys. No more breaking off to do your own thing, no more crazy stunts or hunting down certain enemy units. We stick together, today, you're picking a wingman, and you are sticking with them. We'll have you broken up into pairs. So be ready to make that decision today before we take off."
"Speaking of which." Trigger cleared his throat. "High Roller."
The gambler suddenly sat straight up. "Yes? Yeah? Whats up?"
"Full Band called dibs on you." He grinned. "You're watching each other's backs. Got it?"
High Roller nodded quickly, a smile slowly forming. "Absolutely! I bet we'll do wonderfully together!"
"Good, that's all I ask."
"Why are you being so serious about this anyways? It's just another mission with the odds against us, it's not like it'll be anything new."
"Spare Twelve…this is going to be extremely different from any mission we have ever done. Hell if I was in charge, I would have left this to the pros."
"What'd yah mean 'the pros?' What's so important about this place?" He huffed.
Prez stepped up to Spare 12. "Simple, it's a collection of high powered radar stations. The IUN used the facilities to cover blind spots in central Usea. But now it's very possible that this," She pointed to the map on the screen. "Is why we've been seeing so many drone intercepts on our missions."
"Yes!" Full Band nodded quickly. "I've been doing a lot of research and from what I understand, Erusea is using their drones in tandem with multiple radar sites and the satellites they stole from Osea at the opening of the war. By using these they've created a sort of…curtain? Wall? Line? Barrier? Barrier! They've created a barrier along the front lines." He stood up to trace a line along the map on the Tac screen. "If any aircraft passes this barrier. Drones are immediately scrambled and deployed. Hence why we've run into them so much."
"You mean like at Roca Roja?" Tabloid raised his hand.
"Yes! Exactly! At some point during the operation we crossed the barrier, which triggered the drone response. Same thing happened to Strider and Cyclops squadrons, they must have crossed the barrier then the drones kept chasing after them. Another great example is our recent pipeline target, zero drones showed up until Count went to far north. Then we were suddenly swarmed. This is probably a major station that is keeping this barrier up. I've been looking into things and it seems apparent that Osean forces have been trying to find or punch holes into the barrier, this is probably why they're sending us."
"Okay…but why would this be dangerous? You said you would only send the pros, right Trigger?"
"Absolutely." Trigger sighed. "Look, as Prez said, the Waiapolo Mountains were an IUN radar base, a really important one, so when it was lost, a few Peacekeeper squadrons were sent in to take it back with special forces support. Two pilots came back. No one else." He tapped Full Band, taking a deep breath, he was going to have to do a lot of talking here. He practiced this as much as he could. He could do this.
"Oh! Right, right, topography!" He clicked a few things.
"Now these, are the Waiapolo Mountains." Trigger tapped the screen twice. "Not as scary as the Karsts of Yinshi Valley for those of you who remember that shitshow."
That got a little bit of a chuckle out a few of the pilots, calling it a shitshow was an understatement really.
He smiled slightly, but kept it hidden to stay serious "But still dangerous. Taking this facility on foot would be hard enough, theres only one actual road in and out. All of the Radar facilities are on the peaks of certain mountains, and if you're not familiar with the area, you can easily get lost."
"So…how the hell did Eruesa take it?" Count scoffed. "They couldn't have just walked in right?"
"I don't really know." He shrugged. "I was just a pilot back then, all I know is that one day we got an all clear, next day, nothing." He snapped a finger, drawing everyone's attention before they could start talking among each other. "However, we have bigger problems. When the IUN pilots returned, analyst reviewed their combat footage, and found out what took down so many highly trained and skilled pilots."
Many of the pilots present went still, slowly leaning forward in their seats.
"A missile system."
Silence.
"What?"
"A missile system."
"Yeah….we heard that Trigger. Just seems…kinda anti climatic. You know?" Count sighed. "We've had to deal with…how many SAM sites? I think I lost count back at Roca Roja, and we've just constantly seen them since then, it's kinda annoying actually."
"Yeah…SAM sites are going to be insignificant to what we're dealing with here. From what I know, they're using the radar in the area, in tandem with satellites in orbit to create perfect tracking for some sort of high speed heavy missiles. Only way to break the lock is hide in the cloud cover. So, first thing's first." He pulled out a folder, handing it to Prez. "Each one of you take these. Just like Yinshi Valley, you're each getting a small typographical map of the area. It's a little less crude this time. So it'll do the trick. We're going to be spending as much time as possible inside the clouds."
Prez began to walk around the briefing room, handing a map to each pilot present. "Simple process here people! Get a lock on the radar site, pop outa the clouds, get in range, fire, get back into the clouds. Do not stay out of the clouds for longer than ten seconds."
"That's how fast the missiles are?!" Jacker coughed. "Holy shit!"
"No…" Full Band spoke up, "It's more of an estimate on our part. Thanks to some IUN data we…found." He smiled. "From my additional analysis, it takes around fifteen seconds from lock on, to impact. So speed will absolutely be key to our success. It also seems that the missiles are launched into the sky, then dive down at their intended target. Along with that there were cases where multiple planes were spiked and engaged at once. So it's entirely possible that there are multiple launch sites around the mountains themselves." He nodded slowly. "Needless to say, McKinsey knows we need a nice cloudy day to pull this off. So no clouds, means no mission. However today does seem to be the perfect day for the mission to take place, so we'll see what he says soon."
"Good news is, Bandog is with us one hundred percent. So he'll make sure we don't get sent out if there isn't proper cloud cover to the point that he will turn us around at any moment he deems necessary." Trigger crossed his arms. "Plan is simple, we get in, take out the radars, and get out." He pointed across the room. "High Roller."
"Yes sir?"
A few people chuckled at that.
Trigger smiled. "Your F-16 XL has been equipped with LAGM's be sure to angle your nose up when you fire them so that they'll go over the mountains and into their intended target. We also gave you some AAM's…just in case."
"Right! Thanks man." The gambler gave a thumbs up.
He nodded back before turning around. "Full Band."
The Information specialist jumped slightly. "Yeah?"
"You're covering High Roller of course, but I also need you to keep in contact with Bandog to get weather updates and tracking enemy positions." He shrugged. "So…you're basically our intel guy, you'll have no problem with that right?"
Full Band smiled. "Oh hell yeah! I'm down for that."
Prez finally came back from passing out maps, she leaned against Trigger with a smug grin. Before he could turn back around of course. "As for everyone else! You cover your wingman, stick together, take out what targets you can. We're hoping that this will be a simple get in, get out mission." She moved off of Trigger as he started to slowly turn back around. "However, don't be surprised if it doesn't turn out that way, you all know our luck."
The briefing room filled with loud sighs and chuckles.
"Right then, any questions?" Trigger turned back around and smiled.
"What if I don't want to be a part of your 'grand plan' Murderer?" Spare Twelve huffed slightly. "You're nothing special. I'd rather do whatever I want."
Trigger raised an eyebrow. "Then you'll probably die."
Spare Twelve froze slightly, looking at him in shock. "What…"
Trigger shook his head. "Look Twelve, I know how you work and how you fly, you're a bruiser and a bully. We've all seen it with Count before."
Count frowned, scooting a little away from Twelve.
Trigger glared at Spare Twelve. "I haven't been sugar coating this, nor will I. If you want to go out on your own and lone wolf this…you're welcome to. But you will die. Either from the missiles, AA defenses, or if a peacekeeper squadron shows up. Honestly, you'd be better off in solitary."
12 grumbled slightly, cursing under his breath.
Trigger couldn't catch a lot of it. But it had to be something shitty, because Count's eyes kept narrowing more and more. "Okay…any other questions?"
"Ummm…Ja, what…what should I do? I'm new to all of this, I…I don't even know if I have a plane."
Everyone looked over to the unfamiliar voice.
Trigger followed their gaze slowly, looking into the darker end of the room. Then it dawned on him…he couldn't recognize who Tabloid was talking to earlier. Of course he wouldn't recognize someone who was completely new. Of course, he couldn't ignore the hints of a Belkan accent as well. "Sorry, I don't mean to be rude" He slowly put a hand in front of him. "However….who are you? I don't remember you…at all."
"Oh…I'm a replacement…I think?" He shrugged,.
Trigger raised an eyebrow at that. A replacement? From where? He would think that there was going to be a replacement, it would be someone like Jacker, one of Avril's repair crew that had flown test flights. The only other people with full flight experience were… "Wait…did we shoot you down? Over the mountains here?"
"Oh…yeah that…that was me."
Prez's eyes widened. "Wait…What?! You're Erusean?"
"No." He sighed deeply. "I'm not Erusean, I was just working for Erusea."
"Wait…working fo-…Oh my god." Prez quickly walked up to him, looking closely at a patch on the shoulder of his flight suit. "You're a mercenary?"
The pilot nodded quickly. "Of course! I was hired by the Erusean military to fill some spots for missions deep in enemy territory. Next thing I know…I've ejected over a 'high value target airfield' that's just filled with mothballed planes." he sighed. "Some lady threatened me with a wrench. I surrendered, then got shoved in a cell…and well. I'm sure I went through the same shit you did." He crossed his arms. "Not that it changes much…I'm a merc, so whoever pays best I work for usually. So being able to go free with a full pardon and my past erased? That's pretty powerful." He smiled slightly. "Of course it was only yesterday that the details were ironed out."
"Whats your callsign?"
"Spare Fourteen…apparently?" he shrugs. "The…AWACS said that the spot wasn't filled? But…you're Spare Fifteen right?"
"Yes…" Trigger sighed. "Look I'll warn you now, things don't make much sense here. At all. But we've managed to make our way through it. In fact…we may have a MiG-29 sitting around somewhere."
"What…you…you're joking." Georg laughed.
Prez grinned. "Nah, that woman you threaten you with the wrench, she's our mechanic. The Scrap Queen can make any plane fly if she's go enough spare parts."
"Speaking of which…you remember what plane shot you down Fourteen?" Tabloid leaned forward, smiling slightly.
"Oh! Of course! A Strike Wyvern, an honest to god, Strike Wyvern, I was in total shock." He looked around, then paused.
Everyone was grinning.
Georg looked over to Trigger, "That…that was your plane…wasn't it?"
Prez nodded quickly. "Mhmmm, we're pretty good at our jobs. So we'll make sure you're taken care of." She gave a quick thumbs up.
Trigger rolled his eyes. "Alright…any other questions." He scanned the briefing room one more time. "No?"
Everyone shook their heads.
Spare Twelve huffed and flipped him off.
"Alright then. Everyone chill out, get ready for the…" he sighed. "Official briefing." He slowly made his way over to his usual spot next to Tabloid.
Full Band started shutting down the tac screen and putting the laptop in sleep mode.
Georg looked around as all the other pilots rolled their eyes.
Prez sat down with a sigh. "Alright…we get through this bullshit then we get through the bullshit mission…What time is it?"
"Ummm…eight o' two." Full Band sat down in his spot next to High Roller. "Hopefully this will be over soon."
"Oh knowing McKinsey this will be a quick briefing…will it be informative though? Eh…who knows?"
"You wanna make a bet on i-"
The door slammed open.
Bandog strode through with a huff. "Good, you're all done?"
Trigger nodded twice, they were as ready as they would ever be. He wouldn't have to worry to much about Georg either, he was a pretty good pilot. At least Trigger could attest to that, since…he shot the poor merc down. "This is a weird day already…"
"It's gunna be a long day too." Bandog took his usual spot. "Weather is looking perfect for the mission, plenty of thick clouds. Optimal cover for sure." He smiled. "I think you'll have this one in the bag."
"Anything about our…heist?" Full Band leaned forward slightly.
Bandog shook his head. "Nothing, looks like it's slipped under the radar for now. But I'll keep an ear out, for now, look lively, pay attention. McKinsey's on his way. He's really pumped up about this mission for some reason."
Trigger took a deep breath, he knew why. Their so called base commander was just excited to get all the glory for this mission. Glory and fame. It was a prime target, the amount of planning, logistics, and skill it would take to pull of a mission like this was usually something for the big leagues.
Aces…
War heroes…
Veteran mercenaires…
He wasn't any of those things, at leas that's how he felt. He was a man just trying to keep things together with a bit of help from everyone around him. Honestly…it was crazy enough that they were still alive.
The side door opened as McKinsey strode in, chin up, a skip in his step and three guards at his side. "Convicts, good to see that you all know your place."
Who's to say that they couldn't pull this off? Better yet. He knew for a fact that if they did pull this off…there was no way McKinesy could fully cover things up and take all the credit. He's a base commander, not a squadron leader. Some credit for this batshit insane mission would go to Spare Squadron.
Where the credit belonged.
Trigger smiled. He was kinda hoping that some Peacekeepers would show up, because that meant everyone would see how this mission went, and how in reality. McKinsey wasn't there for any of it.
McKinsey opened up the Tac Screen laptop and booted it up, and logged in. "It seems headquarters is starting to view some you in the penal unit as a valid military force." He scoffed. "Or, at least that's what the rumors are saying. But that's bullshit! The only reason you're here is to atone for your crimes by carrying out missions."
Count growled, cleared his throat, and then spoke. In a voice that sounded nothing like his own. "While you sit on your ass and get medals."
McKinsey froze, his head shot up from looking down at the tac screen, rage filled his eyes. "Who said that!" He quickly scanned the pilots before. "Who the fuck said that?!"
Count slowly pointed straight at Spare 12.
There was a pause, then everyone pointed to the Pilot.
"You! Solitary! Now!" McKinsey snapped his fingers, pointing to a guard, then pointing to Spare 12.
The pilot's eyes went wide. "Wait! But…but I…"
The guard quickly came over and stood him up, leading him out of the briefing room as quickly as possible.
Trigger smiled just barely as he watched Spare 12 get dragged away by a guard, the shock and confusion growing on his face. He may be down a pilot, yes, but that was someone who wouldn't die, nor would he have to worry about 12 running off to cause problems. He looked over to Count, then nodded twice.
Count smiled, winking back.
"Okay, onto the briefing." The Tac Screen updated, showing an image of one of the many radar stations, and the location of the Waiapolo Mountains. "In this mission, you're going into Erusean Territory. We know the Erusean forces' communications facility to the north in the Waiapolo Mountains is linked to the swarm of drones." He tapped at the tac screen glaring at them all. "Your mission…is critical."
Well…that was obvious…but critical to who was the real question. Sadly that was the one thing they weren't able to figure out. Were they helping out Usean forces, Osean forces? Or was McKinsey doing this just to stroke his own ego even more? Knowing the threat of the drones themselves and their effectiveness…it was probably all of the above.
"You will destroy the facility and then weaken those drones. As it's important, the enemy won't go down without a fight. The area is watched over by spy satellites, if discovered, expect AA missiles." The tac screen switched to a new view, showing a model of the satellite coverage. "Unless you have a death wish, you must use the clouds for cover around the sides and base of the mountains. By using the clouds to hide from their satellites, and you just might have a chance to shake off their missiles." McKinsey smiled slightly.
A few pilots shivered at that.
"If you do find a missile on your tail, head into the clouds and pray, or…let the missile kill you and crash into the rocks. That much freedom I will give." With that, McKinsey tossed his clipboard to the side. "You're taking off ASAP, so go get geared up, I want everyone on the tarmac in fifteen minutes." He then turned, walking out of the same door he came in through.
Georg shakily turned towards Trigger, eyes slightly widened. "Ummm…is…is this usually how his briefings go?"
Prez nodded pulling his attention. "More or less, this was actually the least informative yet, don't worry about it though, we have a theory that he doesn't really know what he's doing." she chuckled.
"But…but what about your…pairing people off idea? Wouldn't it be a problem since that one guy isn't here?"
"A problem?" Trigger flashed a wicked smile. "Nah…makes things easier." He pointed across the room. "Jacker."
"Trigger?"
"You're covering High Roller and Full Band, act as their wingman for this mission."
Jacker nodded twice. "Yessss sir!"
"Count."
"Hmm?"
"Nicely done with Spare Twelve."
"Oh! Thanks." He grinned. "I mean, I might as well use my one sin line skills for something right?" He chuckled.
"Do you mind watching the new guy?"
"Georg?" He looked over at the Belkan merc. "Sure, why not. I assume you're taking Tabloid with you right?"
Trigger nodded. "We work well together, you know that."
Count smiled slightly. "Yeah, I do…" He frowned deeply, a bit of worry in his eyes he moved closer, his voice turning into the barest of whispers. "Say, Trigger."
"Hmm?" Trigger leaned closer as well, ensuring to give his full attention to the conversation.
"When….when we get out of all this." He waved his hand at the floor. "You're taking me with you right?"
He squinted his eyes slightly, but nodded. "Yeah, yeah I will, we all made a promise. I hope I can bring everyone all at once. But…" He looked around slowly. "I don't know what's going to happen. But I know we can count on Bandog to make sure things go somewhat smoothly."
"I mean…I know our luck." Count chuckled slightly.
"Yeah…yeah…I wouldn't worry about it too much though, there's a lot that could happen, but we know Bandog and Wiseman are working together on something."
Prez clapped her hands, standing up as she did. "Alright to confirm then! We have Count and Georg as a team. Full Band, High Roller, and Jacker as our long range team. Then Trigger, Tabloid, and me. Spare Twelve is sitting this one out, for his own good. And…well…One and Four are chatting it up, so I'm saying they're a team. Nine and Thirteen have already ran off for the lockers. High Roller has already started having people bet on who will arrive first." She rolled her eyes. "Either way, we look good to go."
Trigger took a deep breath. "Yeah, we've done everything we can to prepare." He cleared his throat, drawing everyone's attention. "Gear up! I want everyone out there and ready to go in ten minutes, let's embarrass McKinsey because we had to wait on him."
There were a few chuckles, as everyone quickly stood up and made their way out the door towards the lockers.
Count nodded before jogging away to catch up with Georg.
The briefing room finally emptied out. Trigger looked around slowly, before nodding. He did it, he managed to act like a squadron leader, and do a proper briefing. He had a lot of help, but it was a step in the right direction. He fel-
Prez suddenly pulled him into a hug.
He blushed, freezing up for a second before slowly returning the hug. "Hey!…I…What's this for?"
She smiled rubbing her cheek against his chest a bit. "You did a great job." She grinned up at him, taking a deep breath. "I'm proud of you dude, you stepped up."
He smiled at her, squeezing slightly. "Thank you…couldn't have done it with you."
She blushed brightly, laughing. "Whaaaat nahhhh you're just exaggerating." She slowly slipped out of the hug. "Now then…"
"Now then?" He raised an eyebrow.
She looked up at him and grinned. "Last one to the Wyvern makes the other coffee in the morning."
He squinted at her. "Wait…Wha-"
"Annnnnd GO!" She sprinted out of the briefing room, giggling.
Eh…it wasn't anything super important.
Wait…
He was crap at making coffee. "…Oh…Oh shit!" He quickly sprinted after her.
Trigger panted slightly as he jogged into hanger 15…only to see Prez there, glaring at Avril. "What happened?" He slowly walked over, sitting down on his usual crate. Accepting that he had lost the bet, but god damn was Prez fast when she wanted to be, he didn't even see her in the lockers. He glanced to his left, seeing a tug pulling the Strike Wyvern out of the hanger.
Avril grinned.
Prez sighed. "She found an AOA…"
Trigger's eyes widened, quickly looking at Avril. "An AOA? An honest to God AOA?"
She nodded slowly. "Yep, it was from a scrapped F-22 we have on base, the only one in fact."
"An F-22?" He had always heard of what AOA's could do, but it was always rumors, until they fought Crimson 1. That was when all the rumors became reality. "I didn't even know there was one here."
"There was one. Didn't get to much from it though, it's a total wreck." She grinned even more, handing over a sheet of paper. "Here's all the details for how it's set up, think of this as a manual."
He took the paper carefully. "Any important details I should know?"
"It'll take up your flare usage while active, and it'll only work for a short amount of time."
Prez sighed. "I replaced the sick bag, right?"
Trigger nodded. "You did, however I don't think you're going to need it." He put a hand on her shoulder, "You've been practicing as much as you can, I think you've got this in the bag."
She snorted. "In the bag? Really?" She giggled slightly.
He squinted at her. "What…It's a phr-….OH…Oh no I…" He closed his mouth and sighed. "I didn't mean it like that!"
Prez started giggling more.
"Wow…smooth work dumbass." Avril chuckled.
He shook his head. "Yeah, Yeah, I know…" He gave his focus to the mechanic. "Did you set up everyone's armaments as we requested?"
She took a deep breath. "Yeah, I did. You're all set with the AAM's, those things are pulling their weight huh?"
He nodded.
"You…are you sure you don't want to take a few LASM's?"
Trigger raised an eyebrow, looking at her. "Hmm?"
Prez calmed down quickly, "Whats up Avril?"
"Don't…don't you think taking some LASM's would be a good decision?"
Trigger carefully folded up the 'manual' and put it in his breast pocket. He could tell something was up, it was like when his sister would always bother him to take something with him. Usually because well…she was worried about him.
Avril growled slightly. "Look…I don't like this, at all. But I trust you two."
He nodded slowly. "Sorry to worry you. We'll be okay though, especially since you gave us the AAM's. We still feel like we're going to need them."
"But your targets are all ground based!" She glared at him. "I just want you guys to be able to get in, get out, and not have to worry about it at all. Okay?" She took a deep slow breath. "I just want my friends to be safe damn it."
Prez smiled brightly. "Awwwww she's worried about us." She ran up and pulled Avril into a bear hug, squeezing tightly and picking her up. "You do care!"
"No! No! Prez! Put me down damn it!" Avril tried to wriggle out of Prez's grasp, trying to fight off a smile. "God damn it I'm trying to be serious here!"
"I know! It's cute!" Prez gave her one more good squeeze before letting her go with a giggle.
Avril staggered slightly and glared at her friend.
Trigger chuckled, he saw that Avril's lips kept curling into a smile, but decided not to press it. "Trust me Avril, I don't like this anymore than you do. But we're doing this to give us the best possible chance of survival."
She looked up at him, still fighting a loosing battle with the smile on her face. "Yeah…Yeah…I know I just…some days I want to do more you know? I never knew what I wanted to do with my life. Sometimes that feeling just completely overtakes me still." She placed a hand on both of their shoulders. "Look, you get this done, and come back safe, okay?"
Prez nodded.
He did the same.
"Promise?" Avril glared at them both.
"Promise." Prez smiled.
Trigger put a hand on Avril's shoulder, giving a slight squeeze. "Promise."
Avril took a deep breath, then gave a single nod. "Alright, off to the tarmac then."
Trigger turned, making his way over to the Strike Wyvern, pulling on his helmet, securing it as he did.
"And Trigger!"
He paused, turning back to look at her.
"If you do run into Crimson. Kick their asses for me! Alright?"
He gave a thumbs up. "Will do!"
Prez grinned. "Oh we'll do more than that, we'll tear them apart. I'll see if I can get some of the scraps sent here too!"
Trigger paused for a moment, seeing all of Spare Squadron's planes on the tarmac. However, each pilot of Spare Squadron was standing by just outside of hanger 15. Each one of them standing in varying forms of attention. He could tell who was doing it based off of the movies though. Surprisingly, Count had it down perfectly.
Just at that moment, on the other side of the tarmac, McKinsey stepped outside, then paused, almost in shock.
Trigger could only smile. "Alright pilots. Good to see everyone here and ready…Spare Nine, Spare Thirteen."
"Sir?"
"Yeah?"
"Who got here first?" he grinned slightly.
Spare 13 almost deflated from his sigh. "Nine did…"
Trigger let a full grin show as some pilots cheered, some pilots groaned, Count elbowed 13, and Georg just looked very confused. "Alright, alright, High Roller make note of that and you can distribute people's winnings when we get back. That means everyone will have something to look forward to." He nodded. Watching out of the corner of his eye as Avril leaned against the entrance to Hanger 15. "You know what to do, we've been here before against the odds. We can do this. So then…Spare Squadron!" He finally felt a bit of confidence as he turned towards the Wyvern. "We'll see you in the sky. Everyone! To your planes, link up with the control tower, and lets get this show on the road!"
A cheer went down the line.
He zoned out everything else as he approached his plane. Curiosity mixed with anxiety filled his chest, there were a lot of unknowns in today's mission. He only hoped they could pull it off.
"Hey." He felt Prez gently elbow him. "None of that now…we've got this."
"Do we now?" He jabbed back, a bit of sarcasm in his voice.
"Yeah we do, we're Spare Fifteen." She grinned at him. "We've got each other's backs don't we?"
He nodded. As long as everyone stuck together, they would make it.
"Hmm…"
"What?" He glance over at his WSO.
Prez chuckled. "Oh, I was just thinking, you make a good squad leader after all."
He looked up into the sky, feeling the chill of the cold morning air. "Only time will tell…"
And with that...that's the last of the calm chill chapters for a bit. Now it's hectic combat time.
Not much to say here, it was a hell of a month, almost got flashbanged, Birthday is coming up in a few days, I am nothing but stress now. And the usual stuff.
Also we are almost at top Kudos of the Ace Combat fandom here on AO3. WHICH IS INSANE TO ME! Ya'll are the best. Thank you for your constant support and enjoyment. It's amazing.
And for this chapter's official ASL translations: 1. Stop beating yourself up. 2. Yes, Yes.