Chapter Fourteen: Raising Suspicion

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Fort Grays Island, Usea.
July 20th, 2019.
0820hrs.

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"Here." Pixy looked up as Kathryn dropped something onto the table in front of him. It was a slip of paper with numbers scribbled onto it. He raised an eyebrow as he picked it up and looked at it and she tiredly explained, "Genette told me to give it to you. It's McKinsey's phone number, just like you asked for."

He perked up and immediately reached for his phone, pulling it out and tapping on the phone icon to open it up, completely ignoring Kathryn still hovering over him. Ever since Genette had found out what he had, Pixy had been anxiously awaiting an opportunity to speak with Commander McKinsey. Genette was still working with Knocker to find out more about the Fort Grays base commander, so it had taken him a while to get the number. He told Pixy that he'd found it out and that he'd get it to him as soon as he could. He didn't expect it would take as long as it did, though. Still, he was grateful. As he started to put in the number, that's when he noticed Kathryn's nervous hovering. He looked up at her. "Was there something else."

Kathryn hesitated for a moment. Neither one of them seemed to agree with the other one getting as involved as they were in the war. Pixy had a reason — he had a personal stake in this — whereas Kathryn did not. Granted, Clown had called Kathryn and Hans first to get them involved with it. But there was nothing more for them to do. Sorties had been few and far between for Golem and Mage Squadron, even then, they were all just poor attempts to get closer to the elevator. Each time the IUN forces were fought back by the UAV interceptors that Erusea continued to use. It wasn't as if Kathryn and Hans had been doing any good, although Kathryn continued to insist that this was for their friend instead of just her own attempt to get back in the action.

At last, she sighed. "I'm not sure if you getting involved is a very good idea, Pixy," Kathryn said to him. Pixy couldn't help but frown, scanning her eyes for any sign that she didn't fully agree with what she was saying. But it seemed that this was just some brutal honesty.

"What makes you say that?" he asked her, trying to keep the defensiveness out of his voice. Pixy took a deep breath and went on, "If the Grey Men are actually making a comeback, or at least attempting to, then I have to do what I can to protect Naomi from them." He looked down at his phone and the half complete number he'd been dialing, then straightened up confidently and looked back at Kathryn. "You should know as well as anyone what it's like having enemies in Belka," Pixy told her firmly, ready to justify his involvement as much as was necessary. "Furthermore, you should know what it's like having enemies in Belka because of your father. I'm not the only one who pissed them off during the war. Cipher did a good amount of Belkan-crossing himself."

"Well, that's…fair." Kathryn crossed her arms, and looked everywhere but back at Pixy, avoiding eye contact with him. Instead, she looked out the window as she spoke. "But I also know that if this is the work of the Grey Men — revealing Naomi's heritage, I mean — then you're only giving them what they want by getting involved." Kathryn looked back at him, noting the confusion on his face quickly. "Just think about it. They're Belkans that wish to restore Belka to its former glory and they want to watch the world burn while they do it. Meanwhile, you're a Belkan ace that left Belka and assisted in driving Belka back during the war. So, they recognize your skill, quite obviously. You're a threat to them, just like you were all those years ago. And now Naomi is coming close to surpassing you in skill. You'd probably figure that they'd want to avoid having both of you together in the same sky, because then they have something to worry about, but in reality that's what they want."

Pixy furrowed his brow. "That's ridiculous."

Kathryn's expression softened. "No, just hear me out," she said. "I saw how Naomi reacted when she saw you, and how you reacted to seeing her. And how you're acting now. Although I'd love to see the two of you in the sky together, just because the two of you would be an unstoppable team under normal circumstances. At least from what I've heard and what little I've seen. But with a threat like the Grey Men or something like that hanging over your head, there's too many emotions involved and with all those emotions…well, you only become a danger to yourselves. You should know that as well as anybody." Pixy swallowed hard, but he said nothing. Kathryn was only repeating the same thing that Pixy and Cipher learned early on in their careers. "So in the air you aren't each others greatest strength, but rather the others greatest weakness. If you were to get involved, then you only give the Grey Men what they want."

"We don't know for sure if it's them," Pixy countered. "It could just be a few Belkans that have it out. Hell, some Eruseans might hate me, I don't know or care at this point."

"And that's your problem right there," Kathryn answered quickly. "You actually do care. And you care too much." Pixy frowned and looked back at his phone. Kathryn shrugged it off and started to leave. "Just take a few moments to step back and think. I know my dad would tell you the same thing if he was here." And with that, she was gone.

Pixy shook his head. She and Cipher were too similar. Only difference was that Kathryn had a more levelheaded personality and was better at emotional pep-talks. If Cipher had been in her place then Pixy would have just been called several insults. Most of them in Belkan. Dumbass and Arsch mit Ohren were Cipher's favorites from back in the day. Not that Pixy didn't do anything to deserve them once in a while. He considered what Kathryn said for a moment, ultimately deciding to go ahead and call. It wouldn't be the first time he'd done something everyone else thought was stupid.

He finished putting in the number, tapping the green button to begin the call. At first, the phone rang and rang for what seemed to be an endless period of time and Pixy worried that no one would pick up. Eventually, the phone stopped its trilling and an irritable voice on the other end greeted Pixy, "Osean 444th Air Base. Colonel McKinsey speaking." So that's what McKinsey sounds like. He was gruff, with only a hint of a drawl, and his voice sounded like the stereotypical military leader in a movie. The tone he used only further implanted this image in Pixy's mind.

Wanting to play it cool, Pixy cleared his throat and cheerfully answered him. "Colonel McKinsey," he said, looking around to make sure he was alone in the mess hall before he continued. "You're just the man I was hoping to talk to!"

"Who is this?" McKinsey demanded suspiciously.

Pixy rolled his eyes. "Yeah, you probably should have asked that before you announced your name and the name of your base," he said smugly. Okay, maybe it was standard procedure to answer that way, Pixy didn't really know or care. What he did know was that he wanted to see how easy it was to get under McKinsey's skin. If McKinsey could tolerate Pixy then he could tolerate Naomi. He heard McKinsey take a sharp breath on the other end and held back a laugh. "Alright, fine. Second Lieutenant Larry Foulke, former member of the Ustio Air Force's 66th Air Force Unit. Now, keep in mind that I'm taking a risk trusting you with that information, but I kind of need you to know it at the same time."

"Aah, so you're the one I've been hearing so much about lately," McKinsey sneered. He sounded more confident and smug now that he knew Pixy's identity. Pixy was taken aback by the comment. So maybe this wasn't a good idea after all. Before Pixy could ask him what he meant by that, McKinsey gladly jumped into explaining the comment, "Someone let spill about one of our pilots' real identity and found out that she's your kid. I have to admit, when I saw her last name I didn't think much of it until everyone started talking about it. I bet she was probably going around bragging about how you tried to end the world or whatever you were hoping to accomplish. Girl's got a mouth on her, that's for sure. Not too surprised she doesn't follow authority."

Hearing McKinsey insult not only Pixy, but Naomi as well, made Pixy tense up. "She didn't know about my actions during the war," he said defensively. "But, that's besides the point. The fact that everyone knows…and she knows, now…it just confirms my worst fears." He trailed off as he came to the realization that Naomi must have heard the worst version. Galm Team had been like the monsters that parents use to keep their children in line, only they were real. Pixy wasn't proud of what he'd done and now he knew that Naomi was suffering because of it. The things those prisoners could do to her…the things they would do if they got the opportunity…Pixy took a deep breath and tried to push it out of his mind. "Listen, that's besides the point. You obviously know who I am and who Na—I mean, who Trigger really is. I need you to listen to me and…if we could take a chance and trust one another for a moment?"

McKinsey paused on the other end and Pixy heard a faint "Hmmm…" as the older gentleman considered the request. At last, McKinsey made a decision, "Very well. But just know that I'm obligated to inform the top brass back in Osea about this conversation if it involves the security of our military."

"Well…it kind of does, actually," Pixy said slowly. "Give me just a minute. I'm gonna put you on hold so I can move somewhere safer to talk about this." He looked around, doing just as he said he would, and left the mess hall. Within just a few short minutes he was in the safety of his temporary quarters. After checking around the room, he finally put the phone back to his ear. "Sorry about that," Pixy said with a sheepish chuckle. He heard McKinsey scoff on the other end. "Well, I'll take that as a good sign. Now, you ready for this?"

"I have important work to do, y'know?" McKinsey snapped at him. Pixy groaned. This guy reminded him of his old base commander, only twice as irritable. "Hurry up and get on with this and stop wasting my time."

"I'd get comfortable, McKinsey. You're gonna be here a while," Pixy said, taking a moment to prepare his explanation. Taking a deep breath and clearing his throat again, Pixy jumped right into all the backstory he was willing to give out to the penal unit's base commander. He explained how there was something going on with Colonel Matthews, the Fort Grays base commander, and explained that a few emails in Belkan gave away Naomi's heritage and how the other person seemed interested in it. He didn't mention the fact that Matthews was receiving transactions from Erusea as well as McKinsey was, considering that he didn't know if McKinsey might be in on it. He tried to sound as vague as possible. At least if he was in on it, then knowing someone was on their trail might make them take a step back and play it safe.

When Pixy was done, McKinsey seemed quiet and deep in thought. After a moment, he calmly asked, "I take it you know about my feeding false intel to the Eruseans, then? For Osea? And I assume you know the Eruseans are paying me for 'selling out' Osea?"

Pixy hesitated, but decided he might as well just be out with it. "Well, yes. Actually, there are several people on the payroll, but only you and Matthews caught our eye."

"I'd be careful with Matthews, Lieutenant," McKinsey advised with a dry laugh. "He wasn't a part of the original group that were assigned with this task. Fort Grays just isn't important enough to Osea…however, with the knowledge he has on the IUN's operations and plans, he might be important enough to the Eruseans. There's a good possibility that he's the one actually selling out his country, so I'd consider looking into that some more. Honestly, the guy's probably just trying to get some glory and cash. He doesn't give a shit about either country, I guarantee."

Although McKinsey could have been throwing him off the trail, Pixy did realize how possible his theory was. Every IUN operation to gain more ground and reach the space elevator had ended in failure. The Eruseans saw them coming and launched interceptors to back up their drones. That was one easily fixed problem, but the threat to Naomi was another one. Pixy sighed. "Okay, I'll look into it some more and talk with a few people back in Osea and around the base," he said. "But I want you to make sure none of your guards are possibly double agents as well. Trigger is still a prime target for them and I want to make sure that my daughter isn't going to pay for my sins."

McKinsey quickly answered him, "Don't worry." He suddenly sounded irritated again. "She's not paying for anybody's sins but her own." McKinsey paused, then he said, "However…as much as I dislike her, I will make sure that she doesn't get killed in her sleep. She's a shitty pilot, but we need everyone we can spare." Pixy winced at the words. If he was trying to be comforting, then he was failing miserably at it. Pixy started to say something, but McKinsey quickly cut him off, "And before you ask, she's doing just fine. Can't say that she's fallen into a good crowd, but she's still breathing for the time being. Now if you'll excuse me, I have real work that I need to get back to. I'll make some calls to HQ back in Oured and tell them what you told me. I'll also look into some stuff around here just to be safe."

With that, McKinsey abruptly hung up before Pixy could even say 'goodbye'. Did McKinsey plan on taking him seriously? The way he phrased what he said made Pixy doubt it. He probably thought that he was insane or something and only humored him so as not to seem more rude than he already was. Regardless, at least McKinsey had something to think about. Pixy could tell Genette about it later on so that they could keep a closer eye on Matthews like McKinsey had requested.

But Pixy had more pressing concerns at the moment. His wife had recently asked him about Naomi and he was unable to provide her with an answer of any sort. Now he had something, but it wasn't entirely good news. Still, at least their daughter was alive. Taking a shaky breath, Pixy scrolled through his contacts until he reached his wife's name. The thought of Naomi being singled out in a prison wasn't a pleasant one, and what McKinsey said hadn't put his mind at ease. He needed someone to talk to. As soon as his wife picked up, he heard her usually gentle voice laced with concern that was only worsened as she heard her husband on the verge of tears. "Larry? What's wrong?"

"Emma…" he breathed out, taking a moment to regain his composure. "Naomi's alive. But…I have some things I need to tell you…for one, I think she knows about what happened during the war."

444th Air Base, Zapland.
1130hrs.

Wiseman set down the receiver in his hand, having just finished a conversation with the LRSSG's AWACS, Long Caster. He informed them that the base commander wanted them back that night and that he'd be sending up two pilots to intercept their squadron in case they ran into any trouble. Although he didn't mention who it was, Wiseman hoped that it was two of the more experienced pilots, like Lanza or Skald. Once the war started, they sent a bunch of rookies to New Arrows Air Base to finish up their training and still be able to assist Osea in the war. Wiseman got sent Tailor, a young, half-Erusean pilot of only nineteen. Tailor was an idealistic young man and a promising pilot, but after the fight with Mr. X, Wiseman would be grounding him for much longer than he originally intended to and he could only pray that the base commander wouldn't send him up.

Sighing, he crossed McKinsey's office, waiting for the commander to show up so he could wrap a few things up. The open window gave a perfect view of the runway and the nearby yard, where several of the prisoners were engaged in a rough game of football. Count, Tabloid, and Trigger were all missing from the group, but Wiseman knew where the three of them were. McKinsey agreed to send them up with the rest of Wiseman's squadron for a short test flight to make sure that the F-15s were in working condition. They'd engaged in a mock dogfight and Wiseman got a chance to see how well Trigger could perform under regular circumstances. She was a hell of a pilot, and Count was too. Even Tabloid showed some skill.

What upset Wiseman about it was that they could never improve, and they still needed a lot of improvement. And the lack of teamwork was a whole other story. It just seemed like they couldn't work together. Well, Count couldn't work with the others at least. Tabloid and Trigger seemed to be able to work in unison for the most part, but Count seemed to refuse to work with either of them. In the end, Wiseman and the rest of Cyclops won after a slip up on Trigger's end. It seemed like she just wasn't interested in flying, and she slipped away the second they all landed. This place was full of strange people, and although Wiseman did think Trigger showed some promise, she was no exception.

Wiseman turned away from the window as he heard the door open. Commander McKinsey stepped inside the office, perking up as his eyes narrowed on Wiseman. "Aah, Major," he said. "I was expecting you to be by later on…" It sounded as if he was tired and distracted, and the slight red in the corner of his eyes told Wiseman that he must have been straining to read a lot. The commander set a file marked 'Confidential' onto the desk with a heavy sigh and paused, tapping his index finger as he stared at the file tiredly. Concerned, Wiseman took a step towards him. McKinsey noticed immediately and cleared his throat, straightening up. Quickly, he asked, "How was your test flight? Any of 'em give you a hard time?"

"Er…no," Wiseman lied, not mentioning the difficulties with Count. He hadn't heard good things about the way convicts were punished. Wiseman knew enough about McKinsey to know that he was one of the types of people that put on a show for everyone. He struck him as one of those guys that would be nice to those below him just to make himself look better, but the second no one was looking…well, you can imagine. Wiseman knew from experience that he needed to remain neutral and not try and get involved, but McKinsey hadn't made a good first impression. The past few days had been tense between them, to say the least. Clearing his throat, Wiseman put on a smile. "Your mechanic did a good job repairing our aircraft. I don't think they've ever handled that well. At least, not for years."

"Yeah, she's pretty good at what she does," McKinsey answered distractedly, shuffling some papers around his desk. "I heard from Bandog that you were making some calls to your base commander about heading back to New Arrows. How's that coming?" Wiseman stifled a laugh. It didn't surprise him that McKinsey wanted him gone. Even if he wasn't being direct about it, Wiseman could tell that McKinsey was trying to figure out when he could get back to yelling at everyone. Maybe he just wanted something to look forward to.

"Well, I just got off the phone with our AWACS," Wiseman answered, nodding towards the phone. "Base commander apparently wants us home ASAP, so we'll be heading out immediately after lunch." McKinsey nodded slowly. Sensing that the conversation was starting to die off, Wiseman tried to come up with an excuse to leave the office. Although McKinsey outranked him, McKinsey wasn't actually in charge of anything Wiseman did. Still, out of respect he stayed behind, taking a good look around the office. He noticed the delicate case on a nearby shelf that held all of McKinsey's medals, and a part of him couldn't help but wonder how many of those he actually earned.

McKinsey seemed to grow uncomfortable with the silence. Quickly and visibly irritated, he demanded, "Is there something else, major? I don't appreciate people lurking around." He seemed to glance towards the door as he said this.

Wiseman shook his head slowly, eyes traveling back to the files that McKinsey was looking over. Certain words were highlighted, others marked out so that they couldn't be read. Although it was hard to see from where he was, Wiseman did catch a glimpse of what appeared to be Trigger's OADF file, noticing her picture before McKinsey slammed the file shut. "I do have a question," Wiseman said, playing it cool and casually turning back to the window as he spoke. McKinsey huffed in impatience, waiting for said question. Wiseman finally turned back to face the commander. "It's about Trigger. I'm curious…just what did she do to get sent here? Doesn't seem like the criminal type."

"Yeah, they never do," McKinsey muttered, suddenly grinning and chuckling softly. He shoved the files aside and walked around his desk to take a seat before he finally looked back to Wiseman. "I assume you heard about former president Harling's unfortunate demise?" Wiseman nodded. It had been all over the news, but there wasn't much information on it. Due to the war, the Osean government made sure that the OBC and other news sources got their hands on as little information as possible. McKinsey took his glasses off, rubbing at his eyes as he continued, "Yeah, well, Trigger fired the missile that killed him. All the information they got outta her was that she didn't do it or that it wasn't intentional. But, nevertheless, they thought she'd be an asset here and now I'm stuck to put up with her."

"Really?" Wiseman was a little surprised by the information. Although Wiseman didn't know a lot about her, Trigger didn't come across as a murderer. She was an amazing pilot and it was obvious she would have had a promising career as a pilot. So why throw it all away by killing Harling? It didn't seem likely and it definitely didn't sit right with Wiseman. He straightened up and looked to the door, taking a deep breath. "Well, thank you, Commander. That's all I wanted to know. Kid's got guts, that's for sure."

"Uh-huh. She's got guts, but no brains." McKinsey said with a scowl. He then motioned towards the door. "Now, if you don't mind, Major, I have a lot of work I need to get done and I'm sure you have a long flight to prepare for."

"Right. Thanks for letting us stay here, Commander," Wiseman said as he started towards the door. He paused when he opened it, looking back at McKinsey, who seemed to be watching him expectantly. Wiseman took a deep breath. "I'll be sure to inform my own commander of your actions. I'm sure he'd be pleased to learn we rested somewhere…safe. Good day, sir." With a curt nod exchanged between the two men, Wiseman was free to go. He carefully shut the door behind him and started down the hallway, planning on stopping by the hangar to collect his wingmen before he headed to the mess hall for lunch. Thankfully, that would be the last time he'd have to see McKinsey, or at the very least, the last time he'd have to answer to him. The guy seemed to be a borderline sociopath as well as a narcissist. Weird guy running a weird base, he thought. Makes sense.

It was a bit of a shock when Wiseman stepped back outside, having to squint to adjust to the drastic change in the lighting. When he finally did adjust, he looked around at his surroundings. The guards were bringing the prisoners inside for lunch, however, the guns and guard dogs hardly seemed necessary. The prisoners here were surprisingly compliant, at least from what Wiseman had seen. Aside from retreating in the middle of a battle and ignoring the orders to return, they followed orders surprisingly well. It seemed to him like they just didn't have the means to put up a fight, nor any real reason. They got meals, time outside, and they got to fly. Overall, compared to most prisoners, they had it pretty well. Maybe Wiseman just wasn't around to see the bigger picture. It was entirely possible that they'd been beat into submission. From the stories he heard from Trigger and Count, it seemed to be a reasonable thing to think.

As Wiseman started towards the hangar, he saw the AWACS controller, Bandog, standing beside one of the prisoners (Full Band, if Wiseman's memory served him correctly), engaged in what appeared to be a heated discussion. His Belkan shepherd simply sat beside him, tongue lolling out. Bandog was even weirder than McKinsey and seemed to fit in more with the prisoners than he did with the other guards. He had sharp facial features, black hair, a five o'clock shadow, gray eyes, and he was overly tanned due to the constant exposure he had to the sun. Wiseman couldn't help but find the guy somewhat likable, though. He had a cool name, a somewhat intimidating appearance, and he had a badass MWD follow him around everywhere. Not to mention, a hell of a card player. He was something else, that was for sure.

Full Band, on the other hand, Wiseman hadn't interacted with as much. He was much older looking in appearance, at least in his mid thirties compared to the other prisoners, all of which were still in their early to late twenties. Wiseman didn't know what the guy had done to get sent to the penal unit, but if his name meant anything then it probably was related to a radio or something. When Full Band noticed Wiseman, he immediately motioned for him to come over, causing Bandog to groan and shake his head. Wiseman debated actually going over there for a few moments, before he figured that there wasn't much else he could do. He'd feel bad if he just ignored him.

When he was within earshot, which was only a few seconds, Full Band greeted him with a toothy grin and held his hand out for Wiseman to shake. "I'm glad I got a chance to meet you before you left," he said. Wiseman paused and looked at his hand, which was covered with dirt from the game he'd been playing with the other prisoners. Returning the smile, Wiseman took his hand and gave it a firm shake, casually dusting his own hand off when he was finished. Full Band was still smiling. "Name's Full Band, but we kind of briefly met already." Wiseman's eyes flicked to Bandog, who was trying his hardest to ignore the conversation around him. However, both of their attentions were turned back to Full Band as he said, "I saw that little flight earlier. You've got some skills, I'll tell you that. Looked like Trigger gave you a run for your money, though."

Wiseman narrowed his eyes, briefly glancing at a rather annoyed and embarrassed looking Bandog. He tried to get Full Band to drop the subject, but to no avail. Curious as to why Full Band was bringing it up, Wiseman crossed his arms and humored him with an answer. "Yeah, she's pretty good," he said with a chuckle, looking towards the open hangars. "But I'd say we kept up with her pretty well. I mean, the Scrap Queen did some stunning work on our aircraft." He looked back at Full Band, who seemed beside himself with anticipation, his brown eyes glinting with excitement. Wiseman shifted his weight onto one foot. "So, what made you bring up the flight?"

"Nothing, sir," Bandog cut in quickly, almost nervously, and Full Band gave him a surprised look. He glared a warning at Full Band to keep him quiet. "Full Band is an intelligence officer, not a very good pilot. He's really…intrigued by people who are real pilots." All three of them quickly realized the absurdity of the statement, and Bandog cringed at his own words, groaning as soon as he processed everything that had come out of his mouth. Full Band smirked at him. Irritated, he snapped, "Well it's better than the dumb shit that would have come out of your mouth, Full Band. But fine, go ahead. Piss Trigger off more than she already is, it's your funeral. See if I care."

"What's this about Trigger?" Wiseman asked. He actually wanted to know more about her, but he didn't know how much she'd give him. The other prisoners probably dug up as much dirt on her as they could, but being labeled as Harling's murderer probably made that relatively easy as it was.

Full Band looked between Bandog and Wiseman before he answered the question with his own question, "You wanna know where Trigger got that flying from, don't you?" Wiseman nodded in reply, putting on a blank expression as he listened. Full Band's smile returned. "You ever heard of Solo Wing Pixy? Y'know, that mercenary from the Belkan War that they interviewed in that documentary?"

"Yeah, I've heard of him." Wiseman replied with little emotion in his voice. It was true that many people had heard of Solo Wing Pixy. Nowadays he was a little less famous, but in 2005 up until about 2009 he was pretty well known. Wiseman, when he was at flight school, actually spent hours watching old footage of Galm Team, studying their tactics. His teachers at flight school also showed the footage during class, explaining how they could polish and improve the rougher tactics that mercenary pilots used. It wouldn't surprise him if Trigger picked up some of these tactics herself. There was a lot to be learned from the infamous Galm Team. Carefully, Wiseman asked, "But what does he have to do with Trigger?"

Full Band's grin widened and Bandog's scowl deepened. "Well, turns out the guy had a family, right?" Full Band said while Wiseman listened intently. "Now two of his kids went on to be fighter pilots. One of 'em disappeared off the radar and the other one…well, turns out she's right here on this base. You saw for yourself how crazy Trigger is, well, she gets that from her pops apparently."

"You're telling me Trigger's dad is Larry Foulke?" Wiseman asked in disbelief. He wasn't exactly a fan of gossip, but the information — if it was true — was intriguing to say the least. "You do realize the odds of that being true, right?" Full Band nodded, reaching into the pocket of his flight suit and producing a neatly folded sheet of paper. He passed it to Wiseman, who looked to Bandog as if asking if it was safe to read. He didn't want to be scarred for life by a crude picture or something of the likes, but Bandog nodded stiffly and Wiseman carefully opened it. After scanning over the paper and reading what hadn't been smudged, he looked back to Full Band with a raised eyebrow. "Did you copy this from the files in McKinsey's office?"

"Yup," Full Band practically chirped. "The old grump has no idea, either." He paused, suddenly tensing and putting on a serious expression. "Hey, you aren't gonna tell him…are you?"

Wiseman took a moment to think about it. If he was being honest, he probably should report the guy. At the same time, Full Band was already in prison. What would they do to him if they found out he was snooping? What could they do to him? After going over the possibilities in his mind (the worst case scenario ones at least), he handed the paper back to Full Band. "No, I'm not. But you should be a bit more careful with information like that. Better keep your head down or things could end badly for everyone," he advised, noticing that Bandog was wearing a blank expression as he kept out of the discussion. "And what do you think of this, Bandog? You don't seem that surprised by it."

Bandog hesitated, avoiding eye contact with Wiseman as if he was as guilty as Full Band. "That's because I already knew about it, sir," he admitted. Wiseman waited before he answered, giving Bandog a chance to continue. He explained, "Our base commander has been…well, McKinsey's been acting a little suspicious lately. Full Band wanted to do some digging, and I let him, but we've got good reason, sir."

"You have a good reason for espionage?" Wiseman asked them. Both men exchanged a look with one another. He took another look to the hangar. They're probably waiting for me…Wiseman thought of his squadron. He returned his attention to Bandog and Full Band. "Look, I haven't got all day, but I'm a little curious about this. McKinsey is…kind of sleazy, I will admit. So why are you sneaking about his office and stealing information?" With that, he gestured to the paper that Full Band was returning to the safety of his breast pocket.

"We found some emails written in both Erusean…and Belkan," Bandog answered carefully, checking to make sure that the other guards and prisoners were out of range. "Count knew Erusean and Trigger — as you can guess — knows Belkan, so they translated as much as they could." Wiseman motioned for him to hurry along the explanation, still listening and processing everything. Bandog looked to Full Band, obviously uncomfortable being put on the spot like he was. It was possible he felt bad about betrayed McKinsey's trust like this, and judging from how he was stammering and stumbling over the words, that was a likely answer. He regained his normally rigid posture and grew irritated suddenly. "Full Band, you're better at selling people out. You explain it…"

Full Band moved to give him a reassuring pat on the shoulder, but Bandog smacked his hand away and earned a chuckle from him instead. At last, the explanation continued, only with Full Band taking the pace up a notch. "As our grouchy guard dog was saying, McKinsey's been getting money from both the Eruseans and the Oseans. He's working as a double agent, y'know? Feeding Erusea false intel and then telling Osea about it so they get the advantage and can adjust their plans accordingly, right?" Wiseman nodded to show that he understood, keeping quiet so he didn't waste any time. He was getting a little impatient, but if it was important then his squadron could wait. Full Band quickly continued, "But recently, all evidence points to him selling Osea out to the Eruseans, not the other way around. We found out that Erusea has an area set up that's patrolled by the Arsenal Birds they captured. One of them circles the Lighthouse — the Space Elevator, I mean. The other one is kind of sporadic, but as far as I can tell it's near Osean forces and is making any operations tricky."

"Yeah, you're right about that," Wiseman said thoughtfully, recalling the LRSSG's recent mission to investigate in the Hatties Desert. "It's what sends out the drones and what alerted Mr. X and his crew when we were on our reconnaissance mission. You know how the drones showed up in Yinshi? We crossed the area that one of the Arsenal Birds was monitoring at the time. Not fun to deal with, let me tell you. They're really putting a dent in our operations."

"Well, some of the Oseans in our military might be helping them do that," Full Band said. He reached into another one of his pockets and produced what appeared to be a USB flash drive with something scribbled on it by a Sharpie marker. The former intelligence officer took a step towards Wiseman and held it out for him to take. "Here. This is all the information and evidence we have so far, plus a list of names of other double agents and the ones we think might be working for Erusea rather than Osea. Look over it, show it to your base commander if you think you can trust him. And if you find something new do you think you could give us a call so we have a heads up?"

Wiseman took the flash drive after a moment of hesitation and put it in his own pocket before he asked, "And how do you propose I do that? I can't exactly call McKinsey up and ask to speak to Full Band."

"Of course not," Full Band said, winking as he pulled out a blank scrap of paper and then held out his hand to Bandog. Bandog sighed before reaching into his uniform and pulling out a Sharpie, passing it to him. Muttering as he wrote down a phone number, he handed off the scrap to Wiseman. "Bandog has a cell phone in his quarters and an old rotary dial phone in his own office. Call either of those numbers and he's bound to pick one of them up."

"You alright with this, Bandog?" Wiseman asked, showing him the paper.

There was a tick in Bandog's jaw, but he eventually sighed and gave another nod. "Yeah, I'm alright with it," he answered. His voice returned to its usual harsh tone as he added, "I want criminals brought to justice, no matter who they are. And if we turn out to be wrong, then I've lost nothing, really."

Wiseman nodded as he put the paper into his pocket along with the USB drive. "Alright then," he said. "I appreciate the information. If this helps us get this war over with faster, then I'm all for it. I'll inform my base commander about this information." He saw both of them exchange a look of doubt with one another. Quickly, he thought of a way to set their minds at ease, "Don't worry. He's been serving the Osean military for years. He wouldn't sell them out, believe me. I can trust him." Wiseman looked around, then sighed. "Well, I better get going. Húxiān's going to be upset that I took so long. As for what you just told me…well, at least in regards to McKinsey…I hope you're wrong. See ya around."

He gave them a two-finger salute as a farewell (of which they both returned with unenthusiastic waves) before the three split off in different directions. Bandog and Full Band headed towards the mess hall with the rest of the guards and prisoners while Wiseman continued to the hangar to collect his wingmen. His mind was mostly on the information that Full Band and Bandog just dumped on him. It was overwhelming to say the least. Trigger was Belkan, the daughter of a mercenary, and Harling's murderer, McKinsey was a double agent possibly selling out his own country, and they were both so willing to give this information to him. Rather, Full Band was. It seemed Bandog was the only one with loyalty to McKinsey, even if he was starting to doubt it. We've only been here a few days and already I'm stressed out, Wiseman thought, rubbing his forehead to wipe away some sweat. This spy drama or wis more than I can handle...

When he finally arrived at the hangar, he saw his three wingmen all talking with Trigger. All of them looked a little tired, but still seemed to be engaged in a rather animated conversation. Húxiān, although usually rather serious, was even cracking a smile as Trigger said something. Fencer and Jaeger both laughed at whatever it was. When they all noticed Wiseman approaching, the conversation slowly died out as they all straightened up to stand at attention. Even Trigger did. He motioned for them to relax, grinning. "Y'all didn't need to stop talking on my account," he told them, glancing over to Jaeger, who was still smiling. "Must've been a funny discussion. Jaeger, you weren't sharing embarrassing stories about me, were you?"

"Nah," Jaeger replied, shaking his head. "There aren't any good ones and I didn't want to bore the kids to death." Wiseman laughed and cuffed Jaeger on the back of the head, causing the others to chuckle.

Húxiān regained her composure enough to stop laughing and ask, "So how'd the phone call with the boss go? I mean, no offense to Trigger, but I really hate this place." He looked at her for a moment and studied her appearance. Normally fair and with smooth hair, Húxiān's skin was starting to show signs of painful sunburn and her hair was starting to frizz. Wiseman was well aware of a mild skin condition that she had that caused dry skin and also made her more prone to sunburn. Although it didn't usually interfere with her work and they had ointment to treat and prevent any burning, it did make enjoying a summer's day difficult for her. It wouldn't be long before the sunburn would get worse and she'd get irritable and even borderline delirious. As if she realized that he was thinking of that, she nearly snapped at him, "It's not just because of the sun, Wiseman. We don't belong at this place."

"I know how you feel," Trigger said with a scoff. All eyes turned to her and she looked around at them, realizing what she'd said. "I mean that I don't blame you for wanting to leave. Hell, the rest of us hate this shithole and we have no choice but to live here." Although she gave a halfhearted laugh at her own comment, the rest of them just looked at her with some sort of sympathy. She cleared her throat and awkwardly shifted, nervously running a hand through her hair. "Anyways, I second Húxiān's question. How'd your phone call go?"

"Well, I couldn't get ahold of the base commander, but I had a chat with Long Caster," Wiseman replied. Trigger was, obviously, the only one who didn't know who that was, so Wiseman explained, "He's our AWACS. The base commander also lets him help make some decisions with the squadron, provided he consults with everyone and whatnot. Anyways, they're sending up some pilots that have been on standby to intercept us and provide escort just in case. The base commander wants us to be back at New Arrows by tonight to go over the intel we collected."

Fencer immediately perked up. "Alright, we're going home!" he said eagerly. "God, I've missed my own quarters." It was odd to see Fencer chomping at the bit like this. Like Húxiān, he was usually more serious and only got eager and energetic in the sky. Even then, he was still one of the more cool-headed pilots. Wiseman blinked, giving him a stern look and he immediately settled down. "Sorry, sir. Trigger said it herself, though. This place is a shithole, so can you blame us for getting excited about being back at our own base?"

"He's got a point, Wiseman," Jaeger spoke up. "I get the feeling we've overstayed our welcome a little." Looking over at Trigger, he said, "Not that you weren't good company, of course. We're all just getting a little homesick. Besides, I'm sure my wife and son are a little worried that I haven't called in a while. I don't want them to think something bad has happened."

"Just settle down, now," Wiseman told them gently. "I told Long Caster that we'd be leaving after lunch. That gives us time to prep for the return trip. McKinsey was nice enough to lend us a hand with supplies so we aren't in trouble if we run into Mr. X again. Everyone got that?" Húxiān, Fencer, and Jaeger all murmured in agreement. "Great! Let's go get some chow, then!" Wiseman said as he clapped his hands together, his grin returning. Everyone immediately jumped up and headed out of the hangar, with Húxiān giving Trigger a friendly pat on the back on her way out. Unfortunately, Trigger had to stay behind, still not allowed to eat thanks to McKinsey revoking her food privileges. Wiseman stayed behind and Trigger looked at him with a curious expression. "I spoke with Full Band and Bandog. And I think I now know why you weren't doing well in the air today."

Trigger looked at him and blinked in surprise. "Sir?" she asked him, seeming to be at a loss for words. Her face showed some reaction, as if she knew what they must have told him. Wiseman quickly explained everything that he'd learned about her, and she barely seemed to care at all. Her reaction wasn't what he was expecting. She wasn't defensive, nor was she jumping at the opportunity to brag. Trigger just stood there with a blank expression, looking as if there was some sort of mental block there that was keeping her from reacting in any other way. Finally, she found her voice again. "So, McKinsey told you why I'm here and Full Band explained why Count and the rest of the squadron aren't speaking to me, right? So why are you here, talking to me like I'm just another pilot?"

"I mean, I'm not gonna hold the actions of a desperate, kind of messed up country against someone who wasn't even born at the time it happened. I'm not prejudiced against Belkans, so you don't have to worry there," Wiseman replied, hoping his words were of some comfort or reassurance to her. "I guess I'm here because I wanted to hear your side of the story. The one that explains what you're doing here. Why did you kill Harling?"

Now she got defensive. She visibly tensed and glared daggers at him. "I didn't kill Harling," Trigger answered sharply. The tone she used was mostly that of frustration rather than anger at Wiseman. "The whole thing was…well I think it was one big accident. Either way, I didn't kill Harling. If I did, then it wasn't on purpose." She looked up at the squadron's F-15s as she spoke, and seemed to calm down within a matter of seconds. "I wouldn't kill another Osean unless it was absolutely necessary. Harling didn't have to die, but he did, and I don't know if it was my fault or not because I had a lock on a UAV, not Harling's bird. The military needed a scapegoat, that's all."

Wiseman nodded. "Okay, well I guess that clears that up," he said slowly. Truth be told, he didn't peg Trigger for the murdering type. Maybe a little too aggressive, but he could let that slide for the time being considering where she was and who she had to serve with. "And what about your Belkan heritage? You know it's entirely possible that they knew about it before you did and it made you an easy target."

"Oh, believe me, I've been considering it ever since I found out." Trigger crossed her arms and let out a huff of annoyance. "I didn't know about that, either. I knew my dad had Belkan heritage, but I didn't know who he was or what he did. I didn't think my entire family was Belkan, either. But it's not like I'm running around shouting 'hail Belka!' or whatever the hell they're doing nowadays." Her shoulders slumped, making her a lot shorter compared to Wiseman. She almost looked like a frail, underfed teenager with the way her posture was. Noticing Wiseman was now staring sympathetically at her, she drew herself up and cleared her throat. "But that doesn't matter, now. I'm paying for my own sins and the sins of my father up in this dump. So, really, why should I care?"

"I'd care," Wiseman said with a nod. "But I wouldn't let it eat me up for too long. I mean, you're still alive, so you must have done something right." She managed a small, half-smile as she gave him a grateful look. Wiseman returned the smile and took a step forward, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Look, no promises, but I can try and make some calls for you and get your case looked into a bit more. I've got a good feeling about you, and I'd hate to see you rot in this place. But…on the off chance I don't succeed, it was nice flying with you. You keep working on your flying and maybe someday we'll meet again, eh?"

Trigger looked at him for a moment, something that looked close to hope in her eyes. "Yes, sir. I'm gonna hold you to that, y'know?"

"Well, I kind of expected that," Wiseman said with a soft chuckle.

Author's Note: This was originally meant to cover Pipeline Destruction as well, however the chapter got too long and I had to split it in half. So as a treat for being so patient with a lack of updates, you get a double feature!