Chapter Eighteen: Trepidation

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444th Air Base, Zapland.
August 5th, 2019.
0904hrs.

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"I don't like this..." Count grumbled as he and Naomi looked around at the transport planes being loaded up. Naomi looked at him and raised an eyebrow. He sighed and nodded to the plane that would be carrying most of the former convicts, Avril and Tabloid included. "They're going off to fight and we're stuck flying as an escort to some dickhead that probably sold Osea out to the Eruseans. I wouldn't be surprised if he gets us killed on the way there." Count groaned and shook his head. "I hate this. I figured I'd feel better once we were pardoned and instead it's nothing but more stress. We're not free, we're still stuck with this asshole. Honestly, I liked prison better without all of this espionage drama going on."

Naomi put a hand on his shoulder reassuringly, the only thing she knew to do at the time. Surprisingly, he relaxed a little at her touch, but was still tense. "We just have this one last mission and then it's all over," she said to him, lowering her voice in case someone overheard. She grinned, hoping to offer some comfort. Unfortunately she wasn't very good at it and the truth was that she was just as nervous as Count was. "I'm sure that after today, it'll just be a run of the mill war. No spies, no drama, just blowing shit up. Would you like that better?"

Count opened his mouth to reply, pulling away so that her hand wasn't on his shoulder anymore, but before he could say anything someone else stole away their attention. It was Tabloid, stepping forward with a sad smile on his face. "All of the luggage and equipment is loaded up, so Avril and I have to get going," he explained to them, glancing up at their planes. He then looked back and forth between Naomi and Count. "Believe it or not, I'm actually kind of gonna miss this place. I guess…I'll kind of miss the two of you as well." The three of them stood in silence for a moment before Tabloid grinned and he cleared his throat. "But, instead of acting all sad, let's just be happy that we're finally free. For the most part, anyways. And it's not like we won't see each other again once the war's over, right?"

"Hold on, now, you don't think we're gonna leave you and Avril hanging that long, do you?" Naomi asked with a laugh.

"Yeah," Count agreed. "Besides, stop being so dramatic about it. From the sounds of things, that island'll be as good as ours before long. And, you'll have the Scrap Queen to keep ya company. Can't be too bad." Count winked at this, but Tabloid shot him a dirty look. Naomi looked between the two of them, figuring that she was probably just missing some inside joke. Boys will be boys. God only knew what the two of them talked about together. They did used to share a cell, after all.

After a moment, Tabloid sighed and some of his anxiousness seemed to fade away. "I guess you're both right," he said, scratching the back of his neck as he looked back to the transport. The ramp was still down and Avril was waiting for him, along with a very impatient looking guard. He turned back to face Trigger and Count again. "Well, I guess this is where we go our separate ways. For now, at least. Maybe we'll meet again in different squadrons. It's an awfully small world, after all." He shook both of their hands and started to leave. He took a few steps, then paused and turned back to them. "Take care, you two. Oh, and Count? Don't forget our new motto." Count scowled and rolled his eyes, so Tabloid laughed and practically skipped away like a little child, calling over his shoulder, "And lighten up!"

Naomi looked at Count with a smirk once Tabloid and Avril boarded the transport and were out of sight. "New motto? This wouldn't happen to be that 'stick with Trigger' stuff, would it?" she asked him, giving him a nudge with her elbow.

He glared at her and shook his head. "I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about, Trigger," Count replied, turning away from her and heading over to where they'd laid out their flight gear. "Just suit up. We better get going before McKinsey decides to lock us up again."

She caught her flight helmet as he tossed it her way and she followed him, wearing a mildly curious expression. "Wait, but can you do that to someone?" she asked Count as she grabbed the rest of her equipment and began to put it all on over her regular flight suit as Count did the same. She continued, "I mean, if you pardon someone for something like murder then you can't arrest them for a speeding ticket."

"What?" Count asked her, confusion and annoyance written over his face.

Naomi grinned wildly. "I mean, bad analogy, but you get my point," she said with a shrug. "Maybe I'm just a little happy that I can fly at least one mission without the threat of solitary. Hell, we could do whatever crazy shit we wanted to today and there'd be absolutely nothing they could do about it." Naomi, for some reason, felt inclined to laugh as she finished with her flight gear, checked it all, and began to walk away to her F-2. It was sitting there, recently polished. She didn't even mind the sin lines anymore. She realized Count was still standing there, not making a move for his own fighter. She looked back at him. "Why are you just standing there? With a look like you've been hit in the face with a brick."

He shook his head and chuckled, grabbing his helmet and finally starting towards his own plane. "You worry me, Trigger," he replied, almost laughing.

"Ah, but you're stuck with me. So what are you gonna do about it?" Naomi called after him as she plopped into the cockpit rather unceremoniously. Not that she cared anymore. Like she said, none of the guards could stop her from it. Not like it was a problem anyways.

"I'm gonna get this operation over and done with, that's what I'm gonna do," Count retorted as he got himself settled in his own plane, leaning forward to — as far as Naomi could tell — check to make sure that his radio was secure. After a few minutes, Bandog approached them with a blank expression. Count was the first to notice him. He was still snide with Bandog, but seemed to understand that Bandog was looking to help them in some, weird way. Not bothering to mask how much he disliked their AWACS (especially after Full Band's death), Count smirked and said, "Well, I see the great Bandog has graced us with his presence. You here to bark at us before the mission?"

Bandog, who was looking as annoyed as ever, frowned at his comment. "Watch it, Count," he said, looking up at the two of them. "I just came by to see the two of you off. McKinsey won't tell me whether or not Erusea has anything up their sleeves, so whether or not they know about this operation is a mystery to me. That being said, there's absolutely no way of knowing what we're going to be running into." Bandog sighed, looking around to make sure that no one was around to hear him. As if the next words were difficult for him to say, he seemed to take a few breaths before finally saying whatever was on his mind. "What I'm trying to say is don't pull anything stupid out there. You dumbasses are the only people left to testify against McKinsey. I don't want you morons to get yourselves killed."

Although his tone was harsh, Naomi and Count looked across at each other and back down at Bandog. Naomi smiled and gave him a thumbs up. "Nice to know you care, Bandog," she said to him as she put her helmet on.

"I don't." Bandog was short and to the point, glancing at the runway where the aircraft he'd be on was ready to taxi. "I've got to go. We'll talk again once you're in the air. Good luck, Spare Squadron."

"Righto," Count almost chirped, watching as Bandog hurried away. He looked around. "Well, that better have been all of the goodbyes we're getting today. I'm ready to get in the air." Count turned to look at Naomi before the canopy closed, but he didn't say anything, only gave a half smile that she returned before they both fastened on their oxygen masks. There was a number of crew staying behind to man the control tower and keep the base in shape, so the control tower radioed Count and Trigger, giving Count permission to go ahead and taxi so that McKinsey's transport could follow. They'd send Naomi up last.

As Naomi waited, she wondered what would become of the base itself now that all of the personnel were being moved. Her best guess was that they might send any prisoners of war to the base, since it didn't have a lot of regular quarters. It was mostly cells, which made it perfectly suited for a POW camp. Naomi didn't like to think about those sorts of things, knowing that said camps were never a pleasant place to be. She'd heard Osea treated enemy prisoners better than their own prisoners, though. She wasn't sure if it was true, but she had no way of knowing. And she didn't want to know, either. Right now, she could put Zapland behind her. She had a second chance.

At last, once Count and McKinsey's bulky transport had gained some altitude, the control tower radioed her. "Spare 15, this is the control tower. The runway is clear. You are cleared for takeoff," the man said to her as she finished up her last minute checks. Naomi looked around, seeing that all of the other transports were lined up behind her, waiting for her to takeoff. "The base commander's transport craft has taken off. It's flying alongside Spare 2." Naomi hit the afterburners to gain speed and started down the runway. To her surprise, the formerly hostile man that always operated in the control tower spoke to her in a much friendlier voice as he said something similar to what Tabloid had. "Well, Trigger, this is where we part ways. I hope that you have better luck in your next squadron, kid."

"Thanks," Naomi said to them with a smile as she pulled up off the runway, taking to the air. She debated doing her signature barrel roll as a kind of send off, and ultimately decided to go ahead with it once she'd gotten some distance between her and the ground.

The man radioed her one last time. "Spare 15, takeoff confirmed," he announced. "Altitude restriction lifted. Goodbye, Trigger."

The wheels retracted and Naomi continued to climb until she'd caught up with Count and McKinsey. The two flew alongside McKinsey's transport on either side, having to slow down significantly to keep from shooting past it. As they set off in the opposite direction from Tabloid and Avril's transport, Naomi turned as far as she could in hopes to see behind her. All of the transport planes were airborne, and the 444th Air Base was left without a single pilot and only a couple of fighters. Although Naomi was still excited about her pardon, she'd miss Avril and Tabloid. She didn't come to prison expecting to make friends and yet she would consider them to be that in a heartbeat. She and Count were alone, now, though. They'd just have to adapt to no longer having those two around. Something told her that things would be alright in the end, putting her mind at ease.

Just one last mission.

Bulgurdarest, Eastern Usea.
1031hrs.

After about an hour long flight, they finally arrived to the operation area. Officially they were still in Erusean territory, but they were close enough to Bulgurdarest that Naomi considered it to be 'there' anyways. Once McKinsey refueled at the airfield then Naomi and Count would be free of him. Knowing Bandog, they'd have to act fast in order for McKinsey to suffer any consequences. For the time being, Naomi just wanted to relax while she still could. They didn't know what they were facing, so they had to be on the lookout, but Naomi wished she could enjoy the scenery. For an overcast day it wasn't too bad. Usea was a pretty continent.

Unfortunately, Naomi's sightseeing would have to wait. Bandog interrupted her thoughts and broke the tense silence within just a few minutes. "Trigger, Count, listen up. The order is simple. Just kill anyone trying to kill the commander, even if they're one of us," Bandog said gruffly, getting straight to business. As Tabloid once said, no time to stop and smell the roses. Naomi shook her head and took a deep breath, checking her radar for any signs of an enemy presence.

Count, however, quickly replied to Bandog. "Like how you killed Full Band?" he challenged darkly. For a moment, Naomi was caught off guard. He was there when Bandog explained the situation and circumstances behind Full Band's death. The only reason he'd be saying that was just to put on an act for McKinsey. It worked on Naomi and she knew what happened, so hopefully McKinsey would be none the wiser.

"I told you, it was an accident!" Bandog growled at him, quickly going on the defense to continue the act. "So shut up!"

Neither of the pilots said anything. There was a pause before McKinsey's voice suddenly sounded over the radio. "Gimme that! I'll do the talking!" he snapped to someone on the plane. Bandog wasn't aboard the transport, was he? No, there wasn't any way he could be on board. He couldn't monitor anything from there. It was likely just another guy that Naomi couldn't be bothered to know. A former guard or something. As if Count and Naomi had no idea who he was, he announced to them, "This is Base Commander McKinsey." No kidding…Naomi thought to herself. McKinsey continued, "I want you idiots to understand the gravity of this operation. My orders take priority. That's it."

He went silent. Both Naomi and Count sighed, with Count voicing both of their thoughts. "Sure wish our cargo would shut up."

"Tell me about it," Naomi replied. It was then that two blips appeared on radar, and Naomi and Count were both able to see two specks against the hillside, further outlined on their HUD. "This is Spare 15. We have a visual on the target."

"I'll bet they're packing a lot of anti-air weaponry," Count said, almost thoughtfully. As Naomi went ahead, Count called out to her, "Don't freak out. Keep your shit together, Trigger!"

Naomi barely managed to resist rolling her eyes. "Count, I think I can handle a couple of SAM sites," she said to him, lowering her altitude to make a clean and fast hit and run on both targets. Unfortunately, she hadn't had the mind to pick LASMs for this mission. Something told her that Erusea had more up their sleeves that just a couple of hidden SAM sites. And like McKinsey said, there was no telling if the drones would show up again or not. She intended to be prepared for when they did. Getting her head back in the game, she carefully selected the target nearest to her, taking it out and moving on to the next. Both were eliminated, and Commander McKinsey's transport was safe. Letting herself smile, she called to Bandog for the confirmation of the target's destruction, "Bandog, how's it looking?"

"SAM site confirmed down. Stay alert," Bandog replied. "And both of you be on the lookout for camouflaged SAM sites. Erusea has managed to hide them well. You won't know they're there until you're right over them, so you'll have to get creative."

"Wilco…" Naomi said as she began to scan the sky. The missiles would leave a temporary trail that was hard to miss. If they followed it, then Naomi figured that the chances were they'd lead to more SAM sites. "Count, we'll split up. Follow the missile trails and it should lead you to the SAM sites. It's a safer plan than just flying around and hoping for the best. Got it?"

He was silent for a moment and Naomi wondered if he was upset that she'd given him an order, but at last he sighed and replied with an almost reluctant, "Righto." With that, he broke off from McKinsey's transport and formed up on Naomi's wing. He waited for a moment before doing as Naomi suggested and heading straight to the source after a missile was fired from nearby. The missile missed the commander, and both of them came to find their own group of targets. Count chuckled. "Found one. Let's hurry this up so we can sleep in for a change."

It was then that Bandog radioed them. "More SAM sites detected near your location. Keep the commander safe, I don't want to deal with the mess." Silence fell over them but the tension didn't go away. There was a lull in activity as Count and Naomi both searched for more missile trails. They were approaching more clouds, making it difficult to tell what was simply a part of the cloud and what wasn't. They would blend in perfectly. Bandog quickly grew impatient. "Trigger, Count! Roper 1 is exposed to anti-air fire. Are you two doing this on purpose? Hurry up and find those targets!"

"Damn, what an act," Naomi muttered to herself, but it seemed only Count and Bandog understood what she meant. Bandog didn't care about the commander's life. Not really, anyways. But she reminded herself that they all needed to keep him alive for a little while longer. Not much, but just enough. All three of them knew this. Count chose to remain close to the transport and pick off enemies closer to them while Naomi went ahead to uncover the remaining SAM sites. She was a little upset that he didn't run this past her, but she couldn't expect much from him. It's not like she was in charge. In fact, there wasn't really a squadron to be in charge of anymore. Besides, if she needed help then she'd just call him.

Just as she discovered another one, it fired a missile in the direction of Roper 1. Naomi quickly gunned it down, taking care of an AA gun just to run up the score a little bit. "Roper 1 has taken some damage from that missile, but it can still fly," Bandog informed her.

"Damaged?!" McKinsey suddenly scoffed. "Take out the goddamned missile and there'd be no damage, you morons!" Naomi sighed. She forgot that he was still there, listening to everything they were saying and likely criticizing every single thing they were doing.

Just as she took out the same site, more appeared. Then several new targets showed up on radar. Naomi sighed, feeling somewhat frustrated by having barely a second to rest in the battle. She wondered if this was how waiters felt in packed restaurants, just going back and forth and back and forth, never getting a chance to rest. Bandog radioed her and — once again — interrupted her random, distracting train of thought. "Bandits are closing in. Determined hostile. Spare 15, intercept them. Spare 2, take care of the SAMs before they can fire at the commander."

Count broke off from the transport and Naomi went ahead to intercept the enemy aircraft. As she did this, she heard McKinsey sneer, "The General Staff Office seems to have the impression that you didn't kill Harling, Trigger."

Naomi felt her heart skip a beat at the mention of this, but also defensive that she was still being accused of murdering Harling. Gritting her teeth and preparing herself for a dogfight as the Erusean Mirages came into view, she replied coldly, "That's because I didn't."

"We'll just have to wait and see about that," McKinsey replied as if there was no changing his mind. Not even now. "The court at our destination has agreed to reopen and go through your case again. Successfully carry out this mission and it'll give a good impression."

She sighed, switching to her special weapon. Although she'd been conserving it, now seemed as good a time as any to use them. Only problem was that she had to face the enemy fighters head on or directly behind them in order for it to get a solid lock on and actually work. She fired one at the lead plane as it broke off to pick a fight with her, leaving his wingman to intercept McKinsey. The HVAA hit the target like she hoped it would, sending it to the ground in a ball of flame and shrapnel. Just before she pulled away, she did see that the pilot managed to eject in time. That was fine with her. She only wanted his plane out of commission. Quickly, she went after the next one, making quick work of it before it could even come within range of McKinsey's transport.

No sooner had Naomi finished off the Erusean fighters did Bandog shout, "Roper 1 hit by another missile! Commander McKinsey, are you alright?"

McKinsey didn't reply for a while, and Count and Naomi were already making their way back to the transport to provide support. McKinsey finally answered, grunting and sounding a little shaken up. "Bandog, get some more support here, now! Just tell them I requested it!"

"There's no time," Bandog replied patiently. "Two aircraft will have to do. Spare Squadron, finish up with the SAM sites. The next missile could down the commander's craft." Indeed, it appeared that they'd simply been lucky. The right wing was smoking, but it only appeared to have slowed the transport down significantly. Regardless, they were almost there.

"Count, can you keep an eye on Roper 1 until I take care of the SAM sites?" Naomi asked him as they temporarily joined up together beside the transport. She glanced anxiously over at Count's plane when he didn't respond, but he simply adjusted himself so that he was back to flying alongside the transport. "Count?"

"Yeah, yeah, I got it. Just go and take the bastards out..." Count grumbled in response. As she flew off, leaving the transport in his capable hands, she heard him add, "Flying as an escort makes me feel like I'm all tied down. I'll be happy once we're finished with this stupid operation."

"Escorts that go down do so in honorable service," McKinsey reminded him calmly. "Worthy of my praise." That kept Count from complaining, and both of them shut up with any smart comments. Or, they would for a few minutes anyway.

It didn't take long to find the remaining SAM sites. They were closer to the border that separated Bulgurdarest from the neighboring Erusean territory. Naomi could make out the outskirts of the city and the airfield, and several allies showed on her HUD. Why weren't they helping? She knew that Bulgurdarest was neutral during most conflicts, but were they so neutral that they'd just allow their allies to die? Not to mention the fact that there were several Osean forces waiting for them. Whatever the reason, they stayed on their side of the border and simply watched or whatever they were doing. Naomi shot down the last of the SAM sites and a radar truck before pulling up and heading back to Count and Roper 1.

When she arrived, she found that two Erusean squadrons had closed in and Count was taking them on by himself, barely managed to keep them off of the transport. Naomi jumped into the fight without a word and the two of them split the flight up, taking them on one at a time to keep them from downing McKinsey's plane. After they took out one and damaged two others, the Erusean pilots made the smart decision to withdraw from the airspace, leaving without even trying to take out the transport. Naomi and Count circled back around to McKinsey, with Naomi scanning the craft for anymore signs of damage. Aside from what appeared to be a few dings from the enemy planes' machine guns, it looked to be in good condition.

"Yikes! I almost forgot about the transport," Count said in mock concern. "Trigger, it can still fly, right?" He knew the answer. It was obvious, but he just wanted to joke around and get on McKinsey and most likely Bandog's nerves. After a pause, he added, "Hey, how much longer on this flight anyways?"

"Twenty-four kilometers," Bandog answered. "So, you're about halfway."

Sure enough, the city came into view again. McKinsey was quick to notice this. "Oh, I see the city, now! Once we're over the border, we'll be safe. Hurry up!" It seemed he was eager to get out of Erusean airspace. Naomi couldn't really blame him. Like Bandog said before they left Zapland, there was no way of knowing what they'd be running into and Erusea had all sorts of new defenses. Like Helios missiles. Where did those even come from? And what would stop them from using them here, either? McKinsey seemed to have more than that on his mind, though. It sounded like he was looking over Naomi and Count's OADF files or something like that, especially when he said out loud, "Well…Count looks promising. He's got a good combat record."

Naomi could only imagine what he was doing. He might have just been trying to get on Count's good side, or he was simply thinking out loud. Count didn't seem to care, especially not once they reached the border. "Hey, look below. Is that a…wall?" Naomi looked down, just as he said, and there was a long, concrete wall lining the border. A little unusual, somewhat unattractive, but it defined their border a lot better than most other methods. Count chuckled incredulously. "They built a wall along the border. They're nuts!"

"They're imposing their independence on everyone. Like it or not," Bandog replied.

"I mean, it is their territory and their border. They can mark said border however they please. Not like we could stop them, anyways," Naomi put in. She was the first to cross over it, slowing down enough to wait for the transport and Count to catch up.

"Arriving shortly at destination." Bandog announced. He was silent for a moment. "Trigger, I just want to let you know that it's a breath of fresh air having you out here."

Count scoffed. "Oh, you hear that Trigger?"

Naomi ignored him, finding Bandog's comment somewhat flattering. He also ignored Count, quickly adding, "In our squadron, even the good pilots were criminals. At least you don't stink like them, Trigger."

Before she could respond, Count quickly jumped in. "Looks like not all guard dogs have a good sense of smell," he sneered. "Trigger's got the worst criminal record out of all of us!" Naomi felt a little bad that she was upset with him for reacting to Bandog's praise the way he did, considering that she never wanted to overshadow Count in any way. Seemed he couldn't help but be a little jealous. She knew she probably would be if Count was getting praise over her.

"Count, you were convicted of fraud," Bandog suddenly pointed out, catching both of them by surprise. "You sure as hell don't live up to your name." Naomi didn't know why Count was in Spare Squadron, although looking back she realized that it was a little obvious. He was so guarded all the time, though, that she doubted anybody knew much about him. Perhaps the other Spare pilots, namely Tabloid, knew why he was there. She wondered why she hadn't figured it out.

"Save your sermons for someone who cares, preacher," Count snarled, clearly upset that Bandog had just blurted out that information and insulted him.

"You wouldn't understand, Count. Not until you take a good look in the mirror," Bandog answered, sounding almost like a preacher when he did. A very judgmental, angry, cynical preacher, but a preacher nonetheless. Before Count could continue and start an argument, Bandog ended the topic of criminal records and praise right then and there. "We've arrived at destination. Roper 1, report your situation."

"Oh, would you look at that! Support has kept me alive!" McKinsey said, sounding angry, impressed, and surprised all at one time. How? Naomi didn't know. Nor did she care. McKinsey went on, but she figured they were all pretty much tuning him out. "This is significant for all of our forces. I left my mark by proving the penal unit's abilities as a useable military force—"

It was at that moment that Bandog quickly cut the commander off, sounding concerned, "All aircraft, caution. Bogies!"

Naomi sighed. "Seems the fun isn't over, yet. Bandog, what have you got?"

"Unidentified aircraft," Bandog replied quickly. "They're fast. Real fast."

"What?!" Count exclaimed. Both of them were frantically searching the sky and their radar for signs of the enemy, but they didn't have to look for very long. Within a few seconds, a strange aircraft shot past them, spinning around and pulling up as it passed the transport. It continued to climb, spinning around once more, just flying in the open as if it was examining its prey or mocking them. "It closed in fast!" Count cried out, taking up the rear to protect the transport. Naomi quickly took point, waiting for the enemy to come back around.

"Unknown considered hostile!" Bandog informed them as Naomi switched to her special weapons and prepared herself for a lengthy and difficult fight. "Respond to the situation! Protect Roper 1!" In the blink of an eye, the fast, weird looking aircraft zipped back around, gaining altitude and hovering above them. Naomi reacted as fast as she could, picking up speed and performing a high-G turn to get upright and into a climb, just as Bandog ordered, "Spare 15, engage! Take down the bandit!" He next gave Count orders. "Spare 2, support Roper 1 and escort the craft to safety!"

"Wilco!" Count replied eagerly. "I was just about to ask if I could do that myself."

As Naomi lined up with the target, she was bombarded with a spray of gunfire at the exact moment she got a lock and fired. Both missiles seemed to just disappear in a short, anticlimactic explosion. Watching the way it moved, and recognizing a feeling of adrenaline, Naomi could have sworn that it flew similarly to Mr. X, with slightly more simple movements. She didn't know if there was a pilot in this thing or not, but she wanted it gone and out of the way. Naomi had an idea, though she'd have to be quick. She fired an HVAA and then switched to regular missiles and fired two at the same time. One missile hit, but the first two vanished. "Bandit hit, but it's still active!" Bandog announced.

"Trigger, keep that guy away from here!" Count said.

"What is that thing?! Keep it away from our aircraft!" McKinsey added in alarm, echoing what Count had said. "And Spare 2 you stay right here! Don't you dare go flying off! I'll have your wings!" Count sighed at this, but didn't say anything.

Naomi ignored them, continuing to twist around with the enemy aircraft. She was starting to lose sight of which way was up and which way was down as they rose above the clouds. At last she had an outlet for all of her pent up anger and frustration, but this guy wasn't going down without a fight. Naomi decided to give it a taste of its own medicine, hitting it with her own gunfire and simultaneously firing a missile. Some of the bullets scraped it up a bit, but the missile was quickly evaded. She growled in frustration and tried to figure out why that didn't work. Bandog seemed surprised by it as well. "The bandit evaded a missile. How the hell did he manage that?"

"I don't know, but Trigger's movements are insane!" Count said with a chuckle. "Damn, girl!" It was rare that Count gave her any praise or sounded that impressed by anything she ever did. She was shocked, but not ungrateful. However, now wasn't the time to reply. Even Count quickly got his mind back on track. Either that, or he realized he'd actually said something nice and snapped out of it. "What the hell does he want?! He's got his ACM down, but something's off…just who does he think he is?"

"Spare 2, stay alert!" Bandog reminded him sharply. "When you get there, the responsibility's on you!" Naomi didn't have time to figure out what that meant, though she automatically assumed he meant once they reached the airfield. After struggling a bit more, figuring out the pattern to the bandit's movements, Naomi managed to slow it down with her machine gun. It was tricky keeping it within range, but after some effort she managed to hit it. Bandog was quick to inform her of it. "Bandit hit! Spare 15, time to finish him off!" Taking a deep breath, and with one, quick pull of the trigger, she fired a missile at it. It hit, and the aircraft burst into flames and went spinning out of control and out of site. "Bandit lost. Confirmed down. Clear skies all round. Spare 15…you did well."

Naomi, sweating and shaken from the fight, turned around to regroup with Count. "Thanks, Bandog, but I feel like I'm gonna throw up," she admitted. "I really want to know what the hell that thing was, though."

"Wait, what now?" Bandog suddenly said, the worry creeping back into his voice. Naomi was set back on edge. "Four friendlies approaching."

"Allied fighters?" Count asked.

"Remember what happened last time a bunch of friendlies entered the airspace? I wouldn't consider them friendlies just yet," Naomi said as she checked her ammunition. She didn't have enough to take on four aircraft. If she worked with Count then they might be able to take down two or three.

Bandog wasted no time radioing the incoming fighters. "This is the Air Force Base 444 Squadron. What is your affiliation?"

Naomi and Count were both able to relax as a cheerful and familiar voice responded to Bandog's question. "That a guard dog I hear barking?" the voice of Cyclops Squadron's leader said in mild amusement. There was no mistaking who it was. "This is your old friend, Cyclops 1." Just as he said this, four F-15s came into view, flying in perfect formation. Naomi felt herself grinning. She didn't know what they were doing here, but she was happy to see them again. Wiseman hadn't shunned her for her heritage and in fact showed her some support and she felt like she owed something to him in a way. Regardless, that was just four more people she trusted and four more allies for her, Count, and Bandog.

"Cyclops Squadron!" Bandog exclaimed, almost expressing some joy in there somewhere. He did sound a little excited. "But…what're you doing here?"

"Well, we were tracking an enemy prototype," Wiseman explained. He chuckled. "Then it just went off of the radar. I wouldn't be surprised if that dumbass from your side was the one who downed it." There was a pause. "She is here, isn't she?"

"Yes sir!" Naomi replied quickly. "About that weird looking prototype thing…er…that was also me."

McKinsey interrupted her. "This is Base Commander McKinsey. Major Wiseman, I apologize on behalf of that asshole. She really screwed up!" he snapped, not giving Naomi an opportunity to defend herself. "She didn't listen to my order to stand down." Naomi rolled her eyes at this. Of course he'd make it seem like she'd disobeyed an order. She did exactly as she was told, and saved his ass, and he repaid her by throwing her to the wolves. Of course, Wiseman didn't sound upset. McKinsey on the other hand, did. "I'm certain that she'll be punished for taking down the unidentified aircraft."

To Naomi's surprise, it was Count that came to her defense. "Oh, gimme a break!" he snapped. "Trigger didn't do anything but follow orders!"

"Commander McKinsey, if you would kindly accompany me back to my base, we'll answer any questions you have there," Wiseman said cooly, acting as if he hadn't heard Count. Naomi had a feeling that he believed Count's story over McKinsey's, though. The four F-15s circled around them like a pack of wolves, maintaining their formation before splitting off and positioning themselves around the transport and Naomi and Count. Wiseman took the lead, with two aircraft flying on either side of the transport and then one on the tail end. No one could reach the transport without fighting their way through on every side.

McKinsey was quiet as he likely observed the formation from the transport. At last, he said, "Hmm…actually, I'm grateful. Support was unreliable."

"Respectfully, sir, I believe they've got promise," Wiseman answered. Naomi grinned, and she was sure that even Count was probably smiling. It seemed Bandog's plan just might work out for them after all. Wiseman was on their side, so they might be able to get a few of the higher ups on their side. Bandog claimed he had connections. As they prepared to land and refuel for their flight to New Arrows at the Bulgurdarest airfield, Wiseman added to Naomi, "Oh, and Trigger? There's some people back at our base waiting for you. I have a feeling you'll be happy to see them again."