9. Journey into the Unknown

Tilda knew she should rest - after all, they had a long journey ahead of them tomorrow, no doubt with its fair share of shocks and surprises, if the first part of their journey was anything to go by. But the night was so peaceful, so beautiful, and she could not just part with it, not just yet.

"Marja Morenakova?"

The voice broke the peacefulness of the night. She turned slowly to face Philip's dark figure. "Excuse me?"

"Marja Morenakova," he repeated, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. Maybe it was.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what you mean," she told him.

"Oh, I think you do." She didn't like that tone.

His gaze lingered on her as he walked away. She thought he might persist, but he didn't.

Tilda stood staring after him, even long after he had left. What a strange encounter.

She had a funny feeling about him. She would have to keep a close eye on him - closer than she already was.

"This man's name was Gunpei Ikari. We arrived on this island together as enemies, but you take away the uniforms and the war, and he became my brother, and I became his." Marlow knelt before the memorial he had made for his fallen friend. "We swore we'd never leave each other behind." He stood, taking Gunpei's sword with him. "Now let's get off this island."

The engine of the Grey Fox spluttered as they tried to get it going, everyone lending a hand.

"Ah, glad to see you're helping out this time, Nieves," Tilda remarked. He didn't look happy about it though.

"Come on, third times the charm," called Slivko. "Here we go, here we go!"

"Come on, come on," muttered Marlow, willing it to work, to come to life for them.

"Yes!" cheered Slivko from where he stood by the engine, pleased with the progress as the machine hummed to life. "Yes! Yes!" Everyone laughed in relief.

The Iwis had all lined up along the docks to bid them farewell, especially Marlow.

He approached them. "I guess this is goodbye. Thank you." They bowed their heads in return. "If you're ever in Chicago, look me up, I guess." With one last wave he climbed aboard and they pushed away from the docks. Mason snapped a few last photos.

A piece of the fortress wall was lifted for them to travel through, and they were off, out of the safety of the village and back into the unknown.

"You're going home, Mr. Marlow," said Tilda.

"We all are," agreed James.

Slivko put on one of his records, finding a little background noise comforting. Tilda kept watch out of the corner of her eye and caught Philip shooting glances her way. They hadn't spoken since their encounter last night, and she'd noticed he'd been rather quiet this whole time.

"I've got a wife - had a wife? Have a wife?" Marlow said, showing them a photograph. "I guess I don't know anymore... We got hitched right before I was deployed. Got a telegram from her the day before I was shot down, she said she'd just had our baby boy. I've got a son out there, a grown man I've never even met."

"I'm sure she's told him all about you," Tilda assured him.

"Yeah, I sure hope so."

"Yeah, she definitely thinks you're dead, man," said Slivko, much less reassuring.

"Hey," James swatted at him.

"What? I'm just sayin'."

"You don't know that," James said, turning back to Marlow. "You'd be surprised how long people wait."

"The truth is, I don't expect them to be waiting, I'd be fine either way. I just want one last chance to see 'em - well, see her again, and to see him once. That'd be good enough for me."

"We're gonna get you home," Mason promised, her words a shared promise between them all.

"What's her name, your wife? And your son? Did you have any baby names picked out before you left?" Tilda asked.

"The wife's name is Sophie. And I always liked the name Ben."

"Fox Five, come back. Is there anyone out there?"

Colonel Packard's voice filled the boat.

The radio!

"Hey!" Slivko scooped up the receiver. "This is Fox Five, we hear you. We're on a boat, headed North down the river. Yeah, we met this, like, crazy Santa Claus time-traveler type guy from World War II. Yeah, you'll meet him. It's really more of a plane than a boat, but it floats, so that's the main thing. We can call it a 'ploat.' We're on a 'ploat'."

"We need their location Slivko," called James, getting the young man's attention back on track.

"Right - send up a flare so we can find you."

"Roger that, Fox Five."

They could see the red flare shoot up in the distance - and not all that far in the distance.

"We see you! We have a visual, I repeat, we have a visual! Two clicks to our North!"

"Roger that, Fox Five. Fox One out."

"We are back in business!" cheered Tilda.

Their victory didn't last long however, for suddenly, something swooped down from the sky and grabbed Nieves right off the boat, the man screaming and flailing madly.

The creatures were some sort of birds. Tilda grabbed her rifle and immediately opened fire, taking down a couple of the winged monsters, but not before they began tearing at Nieves limb by limb.

"What the hell, man?" cried Slivko.

"Nice shot," remarked Philip, his first words in hours.

"Bollocks it was." She cursed.

"Hey, you tried," said James.

"Still didn't help him any."

"Wait a minute, wait a minute! Is nobody gonna say anything about the-" cried Brooks.

"He's gone, he ain't coming back. There's nothing to say," said Marlow.

"Oh my God," sighed Brooks.

"Let's get ashore, meet up with Packard," said James.

Marlow steered them towards the shore where they disembarked, leaving behind the Grey Fox.

"Thanks, old girl," said Hank, giving the boat a salute before they headed into the thick trees.

"Their flare was two klicks North," said James as they sat awaiting the arrival of the others. "They should be here soon."

"Unless they were eaten by something bigger than us," Mason mumbled.

"Thanks, Mace." Tilda scooped up a flask and headed down the stream, away from the others.

"You have a damn good shot for someone who said you just, 'point and shoot'," remarked James, joining her away from the group.

"I've shot before. Not in a while. Guess one kind of remembers these things."

"Guess so."

"Muscle memory, I suppose. And in fight or flight, 'point and shoot' could be really good. Or really bad..." She heaved a heavy sigh and dropped to sit at the bank of the stream. "We keep saying we're going home, but not all of us are going home. Not all of us are."

"I understand. It often happens that way, unfortunately." He sat down beside her. "This is probably a horrible time to ask, but I fear I won't get another chance: when this is all said and done, would you, perhaps, like to go for a drink with me? It can either be a casual former colleagues and survivors drink, or it can be..." He trailed off, now appearing shy.

"Can be?" she urged him on with a smile.

"A date?"

"I would like that, James. I'd like that very much. Either one, but especially the date," she added. It would be nice to spend more time with him, and in a less threatening setting.

"Then it's settled then, it's a date."

"Looking forward to it."

"As am I."

They were drawn back to the group then by Slivko's sudden shout of, "holy shit!"

Sorry for the delay - had to wait to get the DVD out of the library again. I guess it's popular!

Thanks so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed! :)