AUTHOR'S NOTES: This chapter did not go at all like I thought. Originally, there was going to be an air battle with Ruby, Norn and Ace Flights, but by the time I finished the Penny and Winter vs. Cinder fight, the chapter was already huge, so the other fight will get pushed back to next time. Because of that, unlike canon RWBY, Ruby and Weiss don't get involved against Cinder.
A few callbacks to "On RWBY Wings" and "Wings II" in this chapter. Neo really has left a trail of bodies across three continents.
Haisla 21 (E-3A AWACS)
Near Gorzow Wielkop, Republic of Poland
30 August 2001
0500 Hours Local
Sergeant Heather Cummins watched her sector of the radar scope, and took a drink of coffee. It was just after dawn, and she was still getting used to the time change. With at least two AWACS up at all times, the strain was starting to show on the E-3 crews, and so others had been brought in to take up the slack.
"A lot more interesting than watching the Eberle Line, huh, Sarge?" grinned the airman next to her.
Cummins was in no mood for levity this morning. "I was at Beacon," she simply said. The airman's grin faded, and he went back to his screen.
She took another sip of coffee. It did seem a little like Beacon, she reflected. There was the same feeling of dread, the knowledge that something was about to happen, but being unable to stop it. At least they had a face to go with the enemy now; Cummins wasn't sure if that made things better or worse. It seemed easier when everyone thought they were fighting some sort of Soviet doomsday machine set on automatic.
Another ten minutes passed, and Cummins fought back a yawn. Maybe it's going to be a quiet day, she thought. Salem's ceasefire had passed five hours before, but nothing had happened. The EU Council had taken up a joint resolution by several nations to vote on a permanent ceasefire with Salem and peace negotiations. Cummins would be all right with that; she had lost too many good friends to the GRIMM and their allies. One of her friends from basic training, Francheska Malikov, had been found in a mass grave near Hector Field in North Dakota a week ago.
She was about to get up to get more coffee when she saw a mass of dots, radar returns, enter her screen from the east. "Lieutenant!" she called out for the senior director. He didn't have time to reply, because three other people said exactly the same thing. Cummins, her heart skipping a beat, leaned over to check the airman's scope. He was seeing the same thing. He looked at her, eyes wide in terror. Cummins remembered: he was a new guy, on his first actual mission in a combat environment.
The lieutenant checked each scope, then had each controller quickly run a diagnostic to make sure the radar wasn't malfunctioning. It wasn't. "Issue raid warning for Poland AO!" he shouted. "Alert everyone, even the Happy Huntresses at Swidwin."
Cummins leaned forward, coffee forgotten; others would be issuing those messages. She kept watching the scope. As she did, the dots coalesced into a single blob, heading west at high speed. She was aware of the lieutenant standing behind her. "Too close for individual return, Lieutenant," she informed him. "Close formation. They'll cross the FEBA in 30 seconds."
The lieutenant reached forward and traced a finger from the head of the GRIMM formation. "Poznan. They're headed for Poznan…" His voice trailed off as the head of the formation bent slightly north, though still headed west. "Wait a minute. Either they're going to where Ironwood's HQ used to be, or…"
Cummins knew what he was thinking, because it occurred to her, too. "Or they're coming for us, sir." It was the nightmare scenario for all E-3 crews, and one that militarily made sense. The AWACS were the eyes of NATO forces, and taking them out would blind the fighters. Ground controllers could still guide them to targets, or the pilots could do it themselves, but the AWACS made things easier and far more coordinated. If the E-3 was attacked, it was helpless—the converted airliner was no dogfighter—and there was no way to bail out of the E-3 if it was hit.
"I concur, Sarge." The lieutenant dashed towards the cockpit, to inform the crew.
"Oh, Jesus. What do we do?" the airman whispered.
"Remember your training," Cummins instructed. "They'll scramble everything to defend us." I hope, she added to herself.
Falkenberg Airfield
Near Torgau, Federal Republic of Germany
30 August 2001
0505 Hours Local
Cinder Fall leaned against the door of the old hangar and took a sip of Capri-Sonne. She smacked her lips in satisfaction. It seemed so simple, just fruit juice in a plastic bag, but it brought back one of the few good memories of her childhood. Capri-Sonne had been a treat given to the children of the orphanage on holidays and special occasions.
She took another sip and looked into the hangar. It was an old Soviet hangar, abandoned after the Third World War; the locals had taken over the airfield and turned it into a flying club, once it had been retaken from the GRIMM. It was a hangar built for three aircraft, and so it dwarfed the small Saab JAS 39 Gripen that Neo Politan had stolen for her. Falkenberg was yet another of Neo's boltholes in Europe, maintained by people who took Cinder's money and asked no questions. For once in her life, Cinder was not lacking for cash, either: before she had left Heringsdorf, she had looted the place for what she needed. It had been easy enough to fly to the west, around Berlin, to Falkenberg in the confusion; she simply slowed down to just above the Gripen's stall speed, stayed away from commercial air lanes, and landed at Falkenberg without incident. A bundle of Euros later, and her Gripen was safely stored and fueled. She was on her own for weapons. The aircraft still carried what it had when Neo stole it—four Sidewinders, two AMRAAM, and two external drop tanks, plus the internal Mauser 27mm cannon. She had no way to replace anything that was expended, so Cinder bided her time, waiting for the right time. If nothing else, she could just return to Salem, though it was odds-on whether Salem would welcome her with open arms or shoot her for continued failures.
To her surprise, her cellphone rang. Cinder reached into a pocket of her flight suit with her actual hand—the artificial one was closed around the Capri-Sonne—and checked the number. It was unfamiliar, but she answered it anyway. "Hello?"
"Cinder? Hiiiii!"
Cinder's remaining eyebrow raised. "Neo? Are you calling from prison?"
Neo giggled. "Don't you wish! No, I escaped. You're not at Heringsdorf, are you?"
"No. And I'm not telling you where." Cinder never trusted Neo Politan in the best of times; the little assassin had sworn to murder her, after all. She wouldn't put it past Neo to switch sides, either. "We can meet somewhere."
"Nah. Not yet. But I managed to acquire a little something in the process of busting out." Neo broke into You've Never Had a Friend Like Me from Aladdin.
"My God," Cinder said, stunned. Neo had JINN. "Never mind—I'm at—"
"Ah, ah!" Neo interrupted. "Not on an unsecured line. I'll tell you when and where to pick it up. And how much cash you're paying me for it."
"Salem will pay you any price you ask," Cinder told her. That was true: Salem controlled the infamous Kolyma gold mines in Russia. It was where she stuck people who displeased her, and the average life expectancy was three months.
"I'll think about it. But because you'll never have a friend like me, I've got a bonus for you. Do you have internet?"
"Not right this second."
"That's okay; I feel nice today. A lot of traffic disruptions in the Berlin area. Lot of military traffic moving. But there's a convoy headed towards Berlin-Tegel…"
"So?" Cinder was getting tired of Neo's word games.
"…from Radar Station 1138."
Cinder's hand tightened around the phone. Radar Station 1138 was one of the spots that Arthur Watts had suspected the Winter Maiden to be. "They're transporting her," Cinder whispered.
"That's what I think. And a certain redhead's B-1 just landed there about five minutes ago."
Cinder smiled. There was no humor in it, no more than there would be in a wolf smiling at the rabbit that was about to become dinner. "Well, well. Thank you, Neo. What do I owe you for this?"
"I'll think about that too. Have fun." Neo sang a quick verse from Queen's Don't Lose Your Head before she hung up.
Cinder drained the Capri-Sonne and tossed it in a garbage can before she started yelling for the ground crew. It was time to get back in the fight.
Berlin-Tegel International Airport
Berlin, Federal Republic of Germany
0510 Hours Local
"We're here," Winter announced as the SUV rolled to a halt. She sat across from Fria Gletscher. "Ma'am?" Fria didn't respond. She was looking out the window. "Ma'am?" Winter repeated.
"Hmm?" Fria finally noticed. "Oh…yes. Sorry." Winter got out of the SUV, went around, and opened the door for her, then helped the old woman out of the car. "I was lost in thought there for a moment. It happens when you get old." Fria took a deep breath of morning air—which was scented with oil, aviation fuel, and hot metal. "Perfect. It's been too long." She wore a flight suit, an old one, faded, with the outlines of patches removed long ago. For now, her only decoration was a set of Luftwaffe wings and a German flag on one shoulder. She accepted Winter's arm as they walked slowly across the tarmac. "So I'm not flying with you, then?"
"No. General Ironwood and I decided that it might be too hazardous to your health, should we get attacked. If I have to take a nine-G turn, it could kill you."
Fria snorted. "You and James worry too much. I was taking nine-G turns when you were still on your mothers' teats." She sighed. "Of course, that was so very long ago…"
She went silent as they made their way towards Penny's B-1. The change in plans had been made after Winter had arrived at Station 1138 to get Fria, as both she and Ironwood remembered just how frail Fria was, despite the old woman's protests. Since the B-1 itself could not take as much Gs as Winter's Typhoon, Fria would ride with Penny instead, with Winter escorting. Unlike the previous Penny's Paladin B-1, this newer version was more like a conventional B-1B, with two ejection seats, though the third had been removed for more electronics and Penny could still fly it alone. Like the Paladin, this B-1B could also be flown remotely, but additional safeguards were in place to keep it from being hacked—at least, Winter reflected, they hoped it couldn't. At least Arthur Watts is in prison, hopefully being tortured, she thought darkly. She wondered at her own lack of empathy, but it was early and she was going on five hours of sleep. At least Salem had given them that.
"Salutations, Oberst Gletscher!" Penny greeted them. She was also in her flight suit, though with a fresh bandage around her head. "How are you this morning?"
"Ah, good morning...Penny, wasn't it?" Fria replied. She let go of Winter and accepted a very gentle and restrained hug. She pointed to the bandage. "What's this, now?"
"Oh, I got shot in the head. I'm okay, though." Penny said it in the same tone of voice someone would for saying they had just gotten over a cold. Fria only shrugged and began looking over the B-1, as Penny proudly described the features of the converted bomber. Winter waited patiently; there was time.
A Luftwaffe sergeant dashed across the tarmac towards Winter. "Oberst Schnee!" He came to attention and saluted, puffing. "Massive GRIMM formation detected moving across the FEBA. Unknown raid count, but…it's big." He took a breath. "They believe the target is the AWACS, but it could be here as well. GHQ wants you in the air, now."
Winter nodded. "Has there been a ground assault?"
"Not yet, ma'am."
Salem's opening move, Winter mused. She takes out the AWACS first, then launches a ground assault while we scramble to get a new one in the air and online. A map appeared in her mind's eye: Salem would launch her GRIMM into the Polish and Danish forces around the high ground at Chojnice, break through or push them aside, then turn south to Poznan, pocketing and trapping two American and one Polish division between two rivers. It was what the Germans had done in 1939, in the opposite direction. But this time we're on the right side. And we've got the Winter Maiden.
She thanked the sergeant and walked briskly to Penny and Fria, careful not to show hurry, which could breed panic. "There's a massive GRIMM raid in the air, headed for the AWACS," she said quietly. "We need to be in the air. Salem will launch her ground assault next."
"Okay." Penny was already done with the preflight. She motioned Fria up the ladder, climbing right behind her in case the elderly woman slipped. Fria didn't however; she was a bit slow, but still spry enough. Penny got into the cockpit, raised the ladder and closed the crew door behind her, and was going to help Fria into the copilot's seat, only to see her already strapping herself in. Penny grinned and hopped into the pilot's seat. "Ready?"
Fria smiled. "Yes. It'll be good to be in the air again." She allowed Penny to adjust her harness, then help her with the helmet and oxygen mask. "When you're a pilot, Penny, the ground is only a temporary home. Your true place is up there."
Penny nodded. "I couldn't agree more!"
Fria took the younger woman's hand and squeezed it. "Now then. Let's go surprise Salem."
Poznan-Krezsiny Airbase
Poznan, Republic of Poland
30 August 2001
0510 Hours Local
The air raid alarm went off, jolting Ruby Flight out of a sound sleep. For once, all four of them were in the dorm—Ruby couldn't stay with Oscar overnight, and Weiss had felt it was best to leave Marrow alone to deal with the death of his flight commander, rather than try out any of her amorous scenarios. They were all awake instantly, jumping out of beds to grab flight suits and pull them on, even before they were fully aware of what they were doing. Ruby hopped out of the room on one foot, struggling to get the other boot on; Yang simply swept up her sister in her arms and carried her while Ruby finished getting her boots on.
Yang set her down as they left and dashed towards the aircraft; Norn Flight was right behind them, as was Ace Flight. A Polish Air Force major met them as they ran. "A huge formation of GRIMM was spotted five minutes ago by Haisla!" he shouted. "It looks like it's headed for them, but it could be on us as well!"
Ruby nodded, her flight gloves in her mouth. "Rpf counft?"
Luckily the major understood that. "Fifty plus, course one-six-five!"
The pilots entered the equipment shack, grabbing helmets and masks on the run. Ruby relayed the information. "Are we sure they're after the AWACS?" Marrow asked, hesitating.
"Does it matter, moron?" Harriet shot back. "Don't just stand there; get one up!" She was out the door, nearly colliding with Ruby.
By happenstance, or because she had a persistent knot in her bootlace, Weiss and Marrow ended up being the last ones in the equipment room. They stared at each other for a moment, then Weiss grabbed him, stood on tiptoe, and kissed him on the lips. It wasn't the most romantic moment in their lives—a hurried kiss, and neither had brushed their teeth that morning—but it left them both shocked for a second. "Just in case," Weiss said, then was gone out the door.
"Whoa," Marrow breathed, then grinned. His tail was wagging furiously, and for once, he didn't care.
Ruby ran up the ladder and dropped into the seat as Vogelmord came up right behind her. The GRIMM were at best 15 minutes away. Ruby did a quick check of her loadout: luckily, she'd had the ground crews ready the aircraft for combat, just in case, so she had a good load—two Sidewinders, two AMRAAM, two drop tanks. There was a still-empty luggage pod on the centerline, but it offered little drag and there wasn't time to offload it. "You're locked, loaded and fully fueled!" Vogelmord shouted over the increasing noise of engines. "Go kick ass!" He slid down the ladder and quickly took it away. Ruby lowered the canopy, her fingers flying over the instrument panel, bringing Crescent Rose to life. She gave Vogelmord the signal to pull chocks, watched her ground crew move out of the way, then began taxiing forward, following her crew chief's signals. She saluted him—wondering as always if it would be the last time she saw him—and swung out onto the taxiway. Even through the canopy and the helmet, she could feel the shake of the ground as the Poles got their remaining F-16s into the air to join the combat air patrol above. She felt a little indignant that Ace Flight was already moving, their F-35s ahead of her on the taxiway; Marrow's canopy was still up as he taxied out, though it lowered quickly enough.
"Poznan Tower, Ruby Flight is on the taxiway," she radioed the tower.
"Roger, Ruby. You are number three for takeoff." The controller sounded harried; she couldn't blame him. Ruby took the opportunity to mentally get herself ready to fight. She would be in command, technically—Qrow was still at Stargard, though hopefully he had been scrambled too, and Pyrrha's status was nebulous, though her F-22 was right in front of Norn Flight, behind Yang. As Ruby made the turn onto another taxiway, she saw that Nora's A-10 lacked the heavy ferry tanks it was supposed to have; that was a good thing now.
She had to brake to keep from running into Marrow ahead of her. "Come on, come on!" she chanted impatiently, and scanned the sky. It was taking too long. They were perfect targets right now, lined up on a single taxiway, fully fueled and armed. Then she saw why, as the EC-130 Commando Solo roared into the air, its crew getting every ounce of power the four turboprops could deliver.
Now Ace Flight got into position—Vine and Elm first; Ruby noticed she wasn't the only one to think ahead. All but Elm's F-35 were clean aerodynamically, but Elm had two gunpods hung under the wings. It brought a smile to Ruby's face. Ol' Elm misses that A-10 more than she lets on.
Vine and Elm took off; Harriet and Marrow moved onto the runway. Ruby did another scan of the sky, half expecting to see GRIMM tumbling out of it. There wasn't anything yet, but there were big fluffy cumulus clouds, still orange and pink with the dawn; the clouds could be hiding places.
"Ruby Flight, Poznan Tower. You are number one for takeoff behind Ace Three and Four. Winds are calm out of the west, temperature is 60 degrees, barometer is steady. Raid count of bandits is now 55, angels twenty, speed 500, course one-six-zero, bearing now zero-three-zero. Contact Haisla on departure; airspace is clear."
"Roger, Poznan Tower. Break. Rubies, check." The F-16 shook as the two F-35s ahead of her took off.
"Two," Weiss answered as she pulled onto the parallel runway.
"Three," Blake said.
"Four!" Yang finished.
Ruby taxied forward, her heart pounding. "Here we go." She waited a few seconds for Ace Flight to clear, then released the brakes and slammed the throttle to the stops. Crescent Rose was heavy, and the normal leaping acceleration wasn't quite there, but it didn't take long to get up to rotation speed. Ruby pulled the stick back and the F-16 left the runway. As she raised the landing gear, she made a quick check to the left: Weiss' Myrtenaster was on her wing, fifty feet away. She smiled. Just like the Thunderbirds. She pulled the stick back further and climbed into the sky, getting up to thirty thousand feet in just over a minute. Ruby Flight went into a combat spread as they caught up with Ace Flight; Norn brought up the rear.
"Haisla, Ruby," she checked in. "Ruby is a flight of one Fox Sixteen, one Typhoon, one Fox Fourteen, and one Fox Twenty-Three." She let the radio button go to allow Pyrrha to check in Norn Flight.
"Haisla to Ace, Ruby and Norn Flights," the AWACS senior controller said. "You are now designated as Alpha. Be advised, second large bandit formation sighted near Krakow; that is Bravo. Bearclaw, Preypacer, Skyfire, and Huntress Flights are tasked with Bravo. Target Bravo is Disco." Ruby recognized the callsigns; that was the Poles. Salem was going for the full-court press, targeting both AWACS in the air—Haisla to the north, Disco in the south. "Haisla is the target of bandits headed to Alpha." A note of fear made its way into the controller's voice. There was a short pause, then the controller came back up. "Who is Alpha element raid commander?"
"Until Crow 13 arrives, Ruby Lead is," Pyrrha answered.
"What?" Ruby and Harriet shouted at the same time.
"Ace Three, clear the channel," Vine instructed. "Concur; Ruby Lead is raid commander."
"Oh shit," Ruby whispered, though not over the channel. "Er…roger that, Haisla." Think fast, Ruby! She closed her eyes for a moment, summoning up a mental map, remembering the lessons she'd learned from her father, from Major Oum at Signal, and especially Vytal Flag. Okay. Hope this works. "Ace Lead, Two, Four, position yourself at…" She checked the F-16's navigation display, and read off the coordinates: it would be between Haisla and the GRIMM. "Ace Three, Norn Four: I want you two right on Haisla. You're it, okay? Anything that gets through us you kill."
"Yeah, Team Thunder Thighs!" Nora dropped out of formation and accelerated as fast as the A-10 would take her, quickly joined by Elm.
"Norn, you take up position at angels thirty, north of the bandits. Ruby, we'll follow behind the GRIMM at angels twenty. Ace, you engage ASAP; we'll jump 'em from behind and to the north. Be careful you're locking onto GRIMM. This is gonna be a furball." She paused. "Keep 'em away from Haisla.
"Norn," Pyrrha acknowledged.
"Ace," Vine added.
"Let's do it to them before they do it to us," Ruby finished.
Near Bialogard, Republic of Poland
0520 Hours Local
Penny flew the B-1 sedately at 35,000 feet and 300 mph, the B-1's wings raked out; Winter had advised going slow, as there was no immediate threat of ground assault. The northern sector was still reporting all quiet, and going fast might just attract attention. With two major air battles developing south of them, they could use that to distract Salem. Two innocuous aircraft flying at cruising altitude might be mistaken for anything but fighters, much less who they really were.
It was hard to believe that they were in a war zone. The sun was up behind them, bathing the cockpit in a gentle, warm glow. Penny checked her spacing with Winter—the Typhoon was five miles ahead, with Penny in trail—then glanced out the side of the cockpit. The clouds were starting to break up, promising another beautiful summer day. Too bad we have to ruin it by destroying everything, Penny sighed to herself. She felt sorry for what was going to happen—not for the GRIMM, who were just unthinking robots, or Salem, because she was evil—but the impact of the Winter Maiden's kinetic rounds would leave huge craters on the land. Penny supposed it had to be done, but it didn't mean she had to like it.
She next glanced at Fria. The old woman's features were hidden behind the mask, except for her blue eyes, the same ice shade as Winter and Weiss Schnee's. She was watching the sky in front of them, then looking to the right. Penny keyed the intercom with her right foot. "Are you okay?"
Fria gave her a nod. "Yes, Penny. Just old instinct. One doesn't forget those." She checked behind them, but the B-1 was a bomber; there was no bubble canopy, just a bulkhead filled with blinking black boxes, and what passed for a toilet. "Have you cleared your tail?"
"There's nothing in this sector but us." Just to be sure, Penny checked her radar. It showed nothing but Winter ahead of them, plus a few scattered helicopters along the FEBA. Of course, the radar faced forward. "Haisla would warn us if there was something behind us."
"Haisla is under attack." Fria's voice was suddenly sharp, losing the somewhat dreamy, slow cadence it had carried before. "If I were the enemy, I would use that as a distraction."
Penny's throat tightened. Part of this exercise was to trap Cinder Fall, if the woman would take the bait. There had been nothing since they had taken off, and certainly someone would have told them if there was. Unless Cinder's doing the same thing we are, flying slow, pretending to be something else. And she's behind us, which means she's in the sun. She quickly reached forward and switched on the B-1's rearward facing radar, below and behind the tail.
There was a single blip. Penny read the data: it was at 35,000 feet, speed 400 mph, though the return was small; whatever aircraft it was wasn't very big. She checked again with the second sweep: the speed had increased to 450, the range was 20 miles…perfect parameters for an AMRAAM.
"Oh shit!" Penny shouted. "Blizzard, Nickel! Bogey at six o'clock level, range 20, speed 400, closing!" Then a red light illuminated on both sides of the instrument panel, and a shrill tone erupted in their headsets. "Nickel is spiked, radar!" Penny reached down and pushed the throttle forward. "Hold on, Fria!" On the RWR display, she could see the radar cone, and now a single dot moving towards them. "Bandit is firing!" She hauled the B-1 hard to the right as the wings cycled back, and pressed the chaff button on the stick. Bundles of aluminum foil fell into the B-1's slipstream, and the radar warning clicked off as the incoming missile found the chaff a better target.
Winter instantly went into a hard left turn, gasping as the G-suit squeezed her, pushing the Typhoon to its G-limits, and reversed her course; once she was out of the turn, she firewalled the throttle as well and switched on her radar. It was a single aircraft, but there was no doubt it was hostile. "Haisla, Blizzard, we are engaged with a single bandit, vicinity Bialogard!" There was no answer.
She closed the distance rapidly, holding off on a missile shot, just in case it was friendly and this was a mistake, somehow. She spotted the aircraft, which suddenly broke right, giving Winter a glimpse of its planform: a delta wing, single tail, canards. Too small for a Typhoon—it's a Gripen. "Cinder Fall," Winter growled.
"Well, well," Cinder radioed. "Both of Ironwood's puppets. Lucky me."
Winter fired an IRIS. The nimble heatseeker was a blur as it shot off the rail, and Winter's head-mounted sight cued the missile straight towards the Gripen. Yet the little Swedish fighter was nimble, and Cinder proved she was as good as her reputation: she dropped flares, dodged the IRIS, then threw her aircraft into a left turn to get in behind Winter.
"Blizzard, clear!" Penny yelled, and Winter broke left, accelerating. "DUST, target Gripen, two AMRAAM!" Penny had reversed her turn as well, a longer curve in deference to Fria, and locked onto Cinder. "Fox Three!" The bay doors opened, the rotary launcher dropped out into the airstream for two seconds, long enough to salvo two AMRAAMs, then rose back into the bay, the doors closing behind it.
Penny's curve had been too slow, and that gave Cinder plenty of time to dodge. Another hard turn by the Gripen, and the two radar-guided missiles flew off into the distance. Winter caught the movement in her peripheral vision, and opened her speedbrakes for a moment. It forced Cinder out front, and now she was sandwiched between the Typhoon and the B-1, as Penny turned and rapidly closed the distance.
"DUST, IRIS! Fox Two!" Winter shouted, and another missile shot off the rail, this time a lot closer and off boresight, nearly impossible to dodge. Cinder executed another break and flew right at Winter, who involuntarily ducked and dived. The IRIS missed and luckily did not home in on Penny instead.
Cinder rolled and skidded the Gripen, reversing back into Winter for a gun shot, but Winter was not taken by surprise, and was already turning back into Cinder. Both women's hands moved quickly on stick and throttle as they went into a descending scissors, each trying to get the other to make one mistake, a fatal one, fingers on the triggers for guns, waiting to use their aircraft's heavy cannon.
Winter got a split-second flash of Penny, above them, in a shallow dive, trying to get an opening to fire, but that was all she got, as Cinder kept tightening the turn. She is good, Winter thought. And her aircraft has a tighter turn radius than mine. She's going to win the scissors, unless…
As they made their fifth pass past each other, Winter suddenly rolled upwards over Cinder and dived, breaking the stalemate.
Cinder was panting in her mask, sweat pouring down her back. Schnee is good, she thought to herself. Much better than I gave her credit for. She'd known it was the elder sister from the start, even before she saw the black tuilp-petaled nose on the Typhoon; the radio chatter on the open channel told Cinder that Ruby Flight was well to the south. Cinder had wondered if Winter was one more elitist that had bought her way into the Luftwaffe on the family name, but apparently the elder Schnee sister could back it up.
The sudden roll surprised her, and Winter was gone and below her in a moment. Cinder almost cranked the Gripen back to dive after her, then smiled. "After all, you're not what I'm here for," she said aloud.
Cinder pulled the stick back and climbed, going after Penny. I've come to far to be stopped by some clone.
"Uh oh," Penny said, as she looked to the left and saw the Gripen climbing towards them. She rolled over and dived at Cinder; her B-1 had no gun, not even Sidewinders to engage with, but she might throw off her enemy's aim. It worked: Cinder fired a Sidewinder, but it went wide, and the B-1 shot past in the dive. "Hold on!" Penny told Fria, and pulled the stick back into her lap, converting energy to altitude, slamming the throttles forward. The B-1's afterburners trailed orange and blue flame as Penny climbed hard.
The problem was, Cinder had anticipated that Penny would do exactly that. She raised the nose of the Gripen until it was vertical, then rolled, shedding some speed as she did so. Penny, unable to see the Gripen from the B-1's cockpit, looked frantically for her foe.
"She's behind you!" Fria snapped. The Maiden holder couldn't see Cinder either, but forty years of experience told her what had happened as exactly as if she had. Penny slapped the throttles back, coming out of afterburner, and dropped flares behind them. It distracted Cinder for a split-second, enough to save their lives: instead of the cannon going into the cockpit, it chopped into the avionics bay behind the cockpit. One shell detonated in the bay, sending fist-sized fragments through the black boxes and into the back of Penny's seat. The armored seat stopped the shrapnel from reaching Penny herself, but the shock of the hit propelled her forward. Penny, taken by surprise, lost her grip on the stick and throttle, and nearly rammed her helmet into the instrument panel.
Cinder opened her speedbrakes to stay with the bomber as it continued to climb, and switched back to Sidewinders. Even with the afterburners out, the B-1 still presented a big heat source. "Two Maidens down," Cinder said, but before she pulled the trigger, she reflexively checked behind her.
Winter was climbing hard into position; Cinder could almost feel the gunsight pipper settling on her head. A quick, blood-freezing vision of Pyrrha's cannon shell coming through the canopy over Japan, and Cinder rolled away from the B-1, opening her throttle and diving away.
"Penny, Blizzard! Break off and RTB, now!" Winter commanded, and went after Cinder.
"Penny!" Fria exclaimed. "Penny, are you all right?" The girl let out a soft moan, then sat back in the seat, blinking her eyes frantically, dazed.
This version of the B-1, like the bomber, was capable of being flown from either seat. With clarity she had not felt in awhile, Fria grabbed the stick with her right hand and the throttles with the left, and pushed the B-1 over into a hammerhead as it approached a stall. She deftly leveled it out and peered forward, squinting.
"Blizzard, Fox Three!" Winter fired an AMRAAM, even though she knew she was a little close. Cinder had leveled out and tried to outdistance Winter, but that just made the shot a little easier. When the AMRAAM missed, Winter wasn't surprised, but she had forced Cinder into a break, into excellent IRIS parameters. "DUST, IRIS, Gripen, two," Winter barked out, slaving two missiles to the helmet sight. Cinder had evaded one of the nimble missiles, but Winter was betting she couldn't evade two.
The Gripen went into another break, to the right, which Winter had also anticipated. She squeezed the trigger twice, sending the missiles on their way.
Cinder saw the puffs of smoke that meant two IRIS were coming right at her. She cheated the turn tighter, putting in as much rudder as she could. The G-suit squeezed, but Cinder pulled even harder. Her vision started going blurry, then darkness appeared at the edges. She screamed to keep blood in her brain and in agony as the Gs increased to 9. She saw the G-meter and focused on that as her consciousness started to fade: it pegged at 10. The Gripen groaned audibly. Finally, Cinder let it come out of the turn, the darkness and blurriness faded, and she found herself head to head with Winter.
Winter had watched in shock as the Gripen turned tighter than it was supposed to, than any aircraft she had ever seen without thrust vectoring was supposed to turn. The IRIS missed, just unable to make the turn, and Winter saw the Gripen coming around. Her finger automatically switched to guns, and both women opened fire: both aircraft used the same Mauser cannon. Winter missed by mere inches, the shells skimming past Cinder's tail.
Cinder didn't. Her shots lanced struck the Typhoon just behind the cockpit, marched the length of the aircraft, and ripped through the engine bay and fuel tanks. As she flashed past, fire erupted from the Typhoon.
Winter felt the hits and saw her warning lights go on, announcing the imminent death of her fighter, as oil pressure dropped, the fire lights came on, and the controls went slack in her hands, which meant the microprocessors that kept the unstable Typhoon flying failed. "Verdammt," she grumped, more annoyed that she'd lost to Cinder Fall than afraid, tightened her straps, leaned back in the seat, reached down, and pulled the ejection handles.
The seat fired a half-second before the Typhoon exploded. The double shock of the ejection and explosion knocked Winter out, and her left arm splayed outwards, hitting the canopy as both tumbled through the air. Fortunately for Winter, she never felt both arm bones snap.
Fria saw the Typhoon get hit and Cinder coming straight at them. She also acted on instinct: Penny was starting to come around, but there was no time to wait. Fria shed some power, slammed the stick into her right knee, and pushed down the right rudder. The B-1 skidded. "DUST, AMRAAM, Gripen," she intoned, and pulled the trigger. The launcher dropped and fired a missile.
Cinder saw her own threat display light up. "Where the hell—" But her hands, artificial and real, were already moving, going into another hard break as the converted bomber engaged her head on, dropping chaff as the AMRAAM locked on and followed her into the turn. She rolled and dived, losing the missile, then rolled again and climbed. She stole a glance behind her, and saw the B-1 rolling in for the attack. Cinder blew out her breath. "All right, then." She pulled the throttle back.
"Scheisse," Fria snapped. Cinder was still on their nose, but now was well inside AMRAAM range. With no gun or Sidewinders, she was as safe as if she was a thousand miles away. Fria gave a brief thought to simply running over the Gripen, but she wasn't quite that desperate, yet. She pulled her left hand off the throttle for a moment and flexed it, trying to get feeling back into it; it had been a long time since she'd done something like this.
"Fria?" Penny finally came back to full consciousness. She looked around frantically, and saw the old woman flying the aircraft. "What the—"
"Your aircraft," Fria instructed, and Penny took back control. "That bitch is sitting off our nose. If we had a…a gun…" Fria now was the one who blinked. "That's…that's odd…" Her left arm fell back onto the throttle quadrant and didn't move, and she slumped.
"Fria!" Penny yelled, but suddenly she could not devote any time to the older woman, because Cinder had made her move.
Cinder had been tempted to flip Penny a middle finger for spite while she thought of what to do next, but then she noticed the B-1 slightly wobble, and remain in level flight. What was wrong she didn't know, and didn't care. Cinder threw the Gripen into a climb, looped, and dropped in behind the B-1, switching to Sidewinders. "You had your time in the sun, you two," she spoke, "but now I'm afraid your time is up." The bomber made no effort to dodge.
She was suddenly thrown to one side of the cockpit as the Gripen was hit. "What the fuck-what-there's nothing there-" As she fought for control of the aircraft, Cinder looked behind her.
The F-117 Nighthawk's angular shape was unmistakable.
Qrow cursed in two languages as he hit the slipstream of the B-1: instead of his cannon fire going into the Gripen's engine, it only got a glancing blow on the wing and tail. It was enough to throw off Cinder's aim, at least. The Gripen broke off its attack and broke away, but it was a clumsy break, and Qrow stayed on her. "That's right, bitch," he growled. "Try and run." As he followed Cinder into a shallow dive, he hit the radio button. "Nickel, Crow 13. You're clear. Cinder's mine!" he shouted He did a quick glance to his right: Winter's parachute was good, but her beeper was going off. She hadn't silenced it, which was not good.
"Crow 13, Nickel! I'm RTBing now! Something's wrong with Fria!" Penny's voice was shrill. The B-1 turned back towards the west.
Qrow hesitated. Ahead was the Vistula. Cinder was almost to enemy territory—for her, friendly territory. And there was Winter to worry about: the wind was blowing from the west, and it could carry her parachute into GRIMM infested areas. He had to get the rescue effort going now if they were going to have a chance. I'm not losing you, girl, Qrow promised. I already lost a friend; I'll be damned if I lose the only other woman I've ever loved.
Qrow broke off his pursuit of Cinder and turned back towards Winter's parachute as he began radioing for the rescue helicopters for the second time in 24 hours. The beeper abruptly cut off, and Qrow smiled.
Penny leaned down and checked the GPS. It was inoperative, so she quickly pulled out one of the maps from her kneepad, and opened it awkwardly with one hand. "Okay, let's see…nearest base that can take us is Swidwin. Okay. What did we lose when we got hit…GPS is gone, ECM is gone, tail radar is gone…no problem, we can still fly." She leveled out and pushed up the throttles, then looked over to Fria. "Swidwin's real close. We're gonna make it, ma'am!"
Fria's head slowly came over to look at her. "Penny," she croaked, almost inaudible behind the oxygen mask. Penny checked the altimeter: 16,000 feet; they had lost a lot of altitude in the dogfight. Penny reached forward and engaged the autopilot, but the aircraft jolted alarmingly when she let go of the stick and throttle, so Penny grabbed back the controls. Apparently something was wrong with that, too. She gripped the stick with her left hand, reached over and pulled off Fria's oxygen mask as gently as she could. "Fria?" Penny saw that one side of the older woman's face was slack and drooping; one eye looked at her, but the other one stayed idle. Oh dear God, Penny thought, she's had a stroke.
"Penny." The voice was slurred and soft. "Listen. I had...a job to do. I was supposed to protect the power of the Maiden until someone was ready. Somedays…I worry…I may lose track of time…" She slumped, but as Penny tried to hold her up with one hand, Fria suddenly straightened as best she could. "But you can tell James…I'm ready now."
"No!" Penny protested, feeling tears in her eyes. "You can't. You can't. We're almost there. Please, just hold on." She dared to let go of Fria for a moment, switched the radio frequency to Guard, and keyed the mike button on the stick. "Swidwin, Swidwin, Nickel, declaring an emergency. I have avionics damage and a wounded copilot." Penny didn't dare use Fria's name on Guard; Salem would know in hours. "I need ambulance and fire, and a straight-in approach. Nickel is a Bravo One." That probably gave away the game, Penny thought, since she flew the only B-1 in Europe, but Swidwin had to know what to expect.
"Penny." There was a limp hand on her own. Fria had somehow managed to get her right hand across her body to grip Penny's. The old woman's left arm lay unmoving. Penny glanced at her. "You…you're the one now. You must be." Obviously summoning the last of her strength, Fria reached down and unsnapped the Maiden bracelet off her left arm, then put it around Penny's right wrist. "The activation code…it's Heino." A laugh that bubbled in the back of her throat. "Never guess that…Salem would never guess…that…"
"No," Penny protested. "I can't…I'm not a real person."
"Silly girl," Fria smiled, or tried to. "You're as real as me."
"Please don't die," Penny cried. She pulled off the oxygen mask as well, because she wanted Fria to see her face. "Please don't die."
Fria lay back in the ejection seat. "Thanks, Penny," she said softly. "For...one last…ride." Then she slowly slumped forward.
"Oh God, no. Please, God, no." Penny gently pushed her back. Fria's head dropped onto her left shoulder. Both eyes were unseeing now, but the half-smile was still there.