For Tsari and prompt 55: 'Save the others first, Save them first or all my fighting was for nothing.'
He'd known since he understood what an aeroplane was that he would be a pilot. Nothing else had ever remotely crossed his mind. While others in his class went from fireman to policeman to Ironman to vet, Scott had only ever said pilot. It was his only goal.
Times like this, he sometimes wished his father had talked him out of it.
Scott recalled a distant memory of Career Day when he must have been eight? Nine? Not sure of the age, but the memory was clear. Dad had made time to come and talk to the class like a normal dad, but everyone knew that Jeff Tracy was not a normal father. Scott had been so pleased to have him there, but by the end of the session he had been fuming. All anyone wanted his father to talk about was space, and Scott wanted to talk about flying, about being in the Air Force. Jeff had needed to take his eldest to task when his temper had begun to show.
Why didn't his dad tell him about this?
Despite everything that life later threw at them, at him, Scott's goal remained true, and now here he was, 21 years old, pilot and First Lieutenant. Glittering career ahead – not that he was bothered by that – a future mapped out until he was about 40ish.
That future now looked bleak.
The rattle of bullets thudding into the masonry behind him pulled him back into the here and now.
Five days. He'd been shot down five days ago, losing his co-pilot in the process. There hadn't been time to bury her, and that would haunt him for the rest of his days. Scott had a hole in his leg and despite the bulky flight helmet, he was pretty sure he had a concussion. Stripping everything he didn't need and grabbing what he could carry, he was away as fast as he could hobble.
He'd been found later on that first day by an older man directing a donkey cart laden with what felt like giant hard marbles. He'd been kind and helped Scott hide in the back, despite his protests, and had hidden him in a dilapidated barn. Scott hated it – he knew what would happen to the couple if it was found out they had sheltered him – and had been determined to move on as soon as possible.
Unfortunately, his leg had other ideas, and by the time the night had fallen Scott had a raging temperature. Thankfully, it had broken quickly due to the first aid pack having broad-spectrum antibiotics and the thoughtful ministrations of the couple. Scott hoped his luck would hold.
It did not. He was a Tracy after all.
Late on the second day an army truck came. Four men looking for the pilot of the downed aircraft. Scott didn't catch everything, but what little he did was not good for either of them. And with the men fanning out and looking in all the outbuildings, his chance to slip away had gone. There was a small crawl space under the building that the man had shown him just in case, and Scott carefully slid into it, ensuring he had put everything else down there as well. He only hoped it would work.
The men left after a three-hour search, but Scott didn't relax. He couldn't, every second he stayed here endangered the couple. He had a small radio that had only one secure channel – in the event he was shot down he had a way to inform base so that they could launch a rescue mission. He hadn't been coherent enough before, but now that was his top priority.
The relief in knowing he was going to be rescued had flooded through him. Pick-up in two days, stay in the location. Scott wasn't happy about that, but these were the co-ordinates for the extraction crew so he stayed put. The couple helped him as much as they could, but he kept away from them as much as possible, hoping that it would keep them safe.
As he had known, his luck didn't hold. By the early morning of the fifth day he was involved in a running gun battle, trying to hold off the four men – and thank goodness they had not radioed for more – while the old man and his wife cowered behind the table Scott had pulled down for them. They had an old shotgun and plenty of ammo, safeguards for rural living, and Scott had his hand gun, but they were outnumbered and outgunned.
Then the sound of an approaching helo broke through the gunfire. His salvation was coming, but looking at the couple huddled under the table, he knew he couldn't leave them. The helo couldn't land that close, and they would fight off the men only long enough to reach the house and grab Scott, but he knew in his heart what was going to happen.
Sure enough, a burst of bullets from the helo and the four men withdrew. Scott couldn't see his rescuers, they were behind where he could see, but a few moments later and two heavily armed men burst through the back. Scott had never been so relieved to see Marines. The shooting at the house resumed. Thank god it was heavy masonry.
They made short work of ensuring Scott's wound was ok and turned to usher him out, but he stopped them in their tracks. He gestured to the couple.
'You know what will happen to them if we leave them.'
'I'm sorry, Lieutenant, our orders are for you only.'
'Not good enough. Save them first.'
'Don't make me – '
'I'm not making you do anything! Save the others first! Save them first or all my fighting was for nothing. This whole war is about saving them. Save them.'
The Marine glared at Scott, sighed heavily and helped the elderly couple up. They were thanking them, thanking Scott as they fled out the back, and Scott heaved a sigh of relief. One dead person because of this trip was enough.
But Scott hadn't been paying attention. In his rush to get the couple saved he hadn't noticed the ceasefire, that someone had managed to get in through one of the broken windows in the other room.
He knew the Marines would be back quickly and he turned around. Straight into the barrel of a gun. Scott wasn't ready to shoot, so did what was asked. He dropped his gun and put his hands on the back of his head. He was pushed out and led over to the truck. Forced to his knees, he looked up as the helo took off – they knew they couldn't save him, and Scott was grateful not to have more blood on his hands.
A blow to the head and he knew no more.