Chapter Nineteen: Reunion
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New Arrows Air Base, Eastern Usea.
August 5th, 2019.
1905hrs.
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The arrival at New Arrows Air Base was nothing like Naomi had been expecting. The base was much larger than the 444th had been, and it was also larger than Fort Grays. Not to mention much livelier than both of those bases. The runway was massive, lined with several hangars on one side. At the end of the row of hangars was a flagpole with an impressively sized Osean flag attached to the top of it. Then, on the other side of the runway were several other buildings, including two control towers and what Naomi could assume were housing for the base personnel. There was a lot of greenery, too, mostly pine trees that towered over the buildings. Naomi and Count both circled around the base in the air and got a good look at it as they waited for Cyclops Squadron and McKinsey's transport to land. The E-3 Sentry that Bandog was aboard had already landed, leaving them to follow.
After Cyclops Squadron landed, McKinsey was guided in, and then it was Count and Naomi's turn. Count went first, carefully landing his Su-33 and following the other aircraft outside one of the empty hangars. Naomi followed, finding the controller guiding her in to be much nicer than the ones at Zapland. She was happy about that, but she'd only been getting more and more nervous so the relief and joy was overshadowed by her anxiousness. As soon as everyone was landed and Naomi and Count were out of their planes and flight gear, they joined Cyclops Squadron beside McKinsey's transport, where Bandog was waiting as well. McKinsey exited, followed by several soldiers, all armed and eyeing Count and Naomi with suspicion.
"Colonel McKinsey, welcome to New Arrows Air Base," Wiseman greeted with a smile, his hands clasped together behind his back. Naomi and Count nearly laughed as Wiseman, unbeknownst to McKinsey, made a carefully disguised jab at their commander, "I know it's not as glamorous as you might be used to, but it gets the job done." There was a pause as McKinsey looked around at his surroundings, almost impressed. Wiseman was quick to speak up again, gesturing to a pilot with tanned skin and curly black hair as he did, "Commander, if you'd please follow our lieutenant here, he'd be happy to show you to our commander. And if it's alright with you, I'd like to have a word with your escorts as well as Bandog."
McKinsey considered this for a moment, eyeing the lieutenant that stepped forward with a friendly, relaxed smile. "Very well, then, Major," he said with a nod. He glared daggers at Count and Naomi as he passed them, turning away from the hangars. "Remember not to say or do anything you'll regret. You're still under my command for the time being and I expect even the pair of you to understand that." Just like that, he left them with Wiseman, following the lead of the friendly lieutenant that gave both Count and Naomi a sympathetic smile.
Once they were out of earshot and as soon as McKinsey's soldiers went back inside the transport, Wiseman turned away from the plane and led them to the hangar where Cyclops Squadron had parked their incredibly good looking aircraft. Naomi and Count followed after them as Wiseman motioned for them to follow. Naomi looked around at the other pilots that had flown with Wiseman that day. Lieutenant Dave Winters and Lieutenant Erika Hirose. Both of them known better by their callsigns, Fencer and Húxiān respectively. Fencer muttered something to Húxiān as both of them regarded the Spare pilots and Bandog with some concern. Húxiān said something back to him before giving a friendly, reassuring smile to them.
When they entered the hangar it was much clearer to Naomi how out of place they were. Naomi and Count wore brighter green flight suits that were discolored with dirt and other grime, with a prisoner number on one arm and a Spare patch on the other. No name or any form of identification aside from that. Bandog was the same, wearing simple OADF fatigues with a Spare patch and an Osean flag. Whereas the crew and other pilots in the hangar all looked like regular soldiers. Their flight suits were more of a grayish-green that Naomi was used to seeing in the IUN and they wore a patch above their breast pocket with their wings and full name and rank. On one shoulder was the Osean flag and an LRSSG patch, and the pilots all wore a patch on their other shoulder that was the emblem of either Cyclops Squadron or Strider Squadron.
All of them stood at attention when Wiseman entered, until he put them at ease. They all eyed Naomi and her two companions, and she felt in that moment like just slipping into the shadows and disappearing. Unfortunately, the LRSSG's hangars were well lit with little to hide behind. In an attempt to ignore those around her, Naomi took in her surroundings with awe. The planes and the hangar were all clean, with everything neat and tidy and in its own place. The F-15s were proudly on display, with not a single scratch on them and mechanics already checking them over. Aside from more less than friendly faces, Naomi was starting to feel more at home.
Before Wiseman could open his mouth to speak, pilots that hadn't been present in the air all rushed forward to greet their commanding officer. Naomi and Count, both overwhelmed by the sudden activity and noise, instinctively took a step away from the officers (all of which technically outranked them). Naomi quickly looked over the group. She recognized Jaeger, who was patiently waiting for Wiseman to speak rather than crowding him and blurting out questions, but the other two she didn't recognize. There was a lanky young man, probably only twenty at the most, with messy black hair and dark brown eyes. He was fit and Naomi could have sworn that he was in better shape than Count. Or maybe after spending God knows how long in prison the two of them were just out of shape. And the other one was a very broad, dark skinned man that was in his late twenties at least.
The younger of the two was the first to speak up, having a very young voice and a fast way of talking. "Long Caster said you caught up to the prototype," he said, his excitement clear. "I heard it went down and you ran into the Spare Squadron again. Wait…" The boy turned his attention to Naomi and Count and then back to Wiseman, suddenly grinning. "Wait, are these the pilots? I mean, the pilots? The ones that Lieutenant Hirose and Lieutenant Jaeger said took on Mr. X over Yinshi Valley? Is it them, is it really them?!"
Wiseman sighed. "Tailor, give them some space," he said. Naomi and Count exchanged a confused, mildly annoyed look with one another that was also shared by Bandog. "I'll tell you about it later. For now, why don't you go with Fencer and Skald to tell our guests that their friends are here? I think we've had them cooped up and confused for long enough. No sense in keeping them waiting any longer than necessary, right?" Wiseman clapped the young lieutenant — Tailor, Naomi guessed was his name — on the shoulder as Fencer stepped forward.
Tailor's face fell and the muscular black man that Naomi assumed was Skald started out the hangar. Fencer gave a soft smile, placing his arm on Tailor's back and giving him a light shove as he stood there, protesting in vain. "C'mon, Beckett. There'll be plenty of time to talk with them later," Fencer said as they left. Tailor looked at them with a disappointed look on his face, waving goodbye before he twisted away from Fencer. Naomi and the others watched them go, Fencer and Tailor both laughing as Tailor tried desperately to get away from Fencer's attempts to put the younger man in a headlock. Both pilots seemed to have a sort of brotherly relationship from what Naomi could see. Within just a few seconds, they broke into a run and were gone.
Count scoffed, shaking his head and looking back to Wiseman. He pointed at the hangar entrance and the direction that the other three had gone. "Is that kid on a sugar high or something? And what is he, all of twelve?" he asked in mild disbelief.
It was Jaeger that replied with a soft laugh. "Lieutenant Beckett is nineteen," he explained. "We needed more pilots so they sent him here to finish his flight training. In his free time he does his regular schoolwork. So, I guess he's kind of homeschooled." Wiseman and Jaeger both grinned at this, and even Húxiān gave a small smile. Jaeger added with another laugh, "But, we do enjoy having him around. The kid is eager to learn and has a good grasp on flying and the importance of teamwork, even if he is a bit naive at times."
"Do you actually send him into combat?" Naomi suddenly asked, wide-eyed. She knew that she was young for a fighter pilot, but Tailor was too young for a fighter pilot. He was still going through regular school. If she'd been his CO, there was no way she'd send him anywhere near the frontline. And the borderline childlike energy and excitement he had didn't help either.
Wiseman quickly shook his head, almost laughing at the idea. "No, we don't. And unless we absolutely need him then we probably won't. He stays on the ground. Really he's just more of a backup plan. His mother and father had some connections in the military, so that's really the only reason why he got sent here," he replied. Naomi relaxed a little, looking around nervously. Most of the crew that had been watching them had gone back to their work, no longer paying them much attention. Wiseman cleared his throat and changed the subject quickly. "But, we can introduce you and get backstories later. While we wait for them to come back, why don't you explain your situation to me? I was expecting that Full Band guy to be around to share the intel, like he said when I spoke with him over the phone. Where is he?"
Count and Naomi both went silent, so Bandog stepped in with some reluctance. "There was an incident during our last sortie. Full Band was killed under Commander McKinsey's orders, once the colonel found out that he was gathering restricted information," he quickly explained. "Unfortunately, the last bit of intel that he had gathered up was on a flash drive that was in his pocket when he died, so the only proof that we have is what Full Band gave you and a copy that he gave me. I did manage to fit a little extra information on mine before we left, but I ran out of space on it." Bandog reached into his breast pocket and produced a flash drive that was in a protective plastic container. He held it out for Wiseman to take.
"I'm sorry about your wingman," Wiseman said with a solemn nod, taking the flash drive and examining it carefully. "I'll make sure that we look over this ASAP. The information that I gave our base commander should be enough to take care of McKinsey, or at the very least strip him of any command positions. However, I'd like a full report from all of you about your time at the 444th, if you're up to it. Especially from you, Bandog." He slipped the flash drive into his pocket. "Now, in the meantime I have a few phone calls to make. All three of you could use some rest, so I'll let Húxiān take it from here and show you to some temporary, last minute quarters." He stepped aside and allowed Húxiān to take his place in front of them. "You all remember Lieutenant Hirose?"
Naomi nodded, Count mumbled a yes, and Bandog gave an uncharacteristically friendly smile. "Of course," he said, holding his hand out for Húxiān to take. "Lieutenant, it's good to see you again."
Húxiān looked down at his hand before finally taking it in a firm, short lived handshake. "Yes…it's good to see you all again," she said with an almost forced smile. She looked to Count and Naomi, her eyes narrowing on Naomi. "The two of you seem to enjoy making an entrance. First you take on the crazy ass experimental squadron in Yinshi Valley and then you take out an advanced prototype. I must say that you've got our attention." With that, she grinned and winked, leading the way out of the hangar. "Well, let's get going. I'm sure you're tired after a long flight and it's getting pretty late."
The three of them said goodbye to Jaeger and Wiseman and quickly followed Húxiān as she led the way out of the hangar. Count looked unsure about the entire situation, walking at a slower pace and grabbing Naomi's arm to slow her down. "Are we sure that they can be trusted?" he asked her, lowering his voice to a whisper. Naomi didn't answer at first, watching Bandog and Húxiān as they talked further ahead. She didn't know what to think. On one hand, they seemed to genuinely care and want to help them, but on the other Spare Squadron had been screwed over by Osea too many times to keep track of anymore. Count went on, "Besides, how do we know that their commander isn't secretly in on whatever McKinsey is? What if they toss us back into prison for espionage or something. And for good this time."
She took a deep breath, understanding Count's point of view but trying to be optimistic. "We just need to sit and wait a little while longer, Count," Naomi said to him. She noticed his expression go from concerned to unreadable, a give away that she probably upset him even more. "Look, I know it's not going to be easy but they seem like they're trying to help us so we should just trust them. And if it means getting rid of McKinsey, then I'm all for it." Count shook his head and muttered something, frustrated and nervous all at once. Naomi stopped and held her arm out in front of him so he'd stop, too. He sighed and looked at her with an expectant look on his face. It took her a few seconds, but she finally found the right words. "Count…if you can't trust them, then can you trust me? I've got a good feeling about this."
"Woman's intuition, huh?" Count asked her with a chuckle to ease the tension.
Naomi smiled and gave a small nod. "Yeah, something like that." She glanced towards Bandog and Húxiān, who'd only just then noticed that Count and Naomi had stopped. Quickly, she looked back at Count. "Please, Count?"
He sighed and looked around. At last, with a small nod he finally agreed. "Okay, fine. I'll take your word for it, Trigger." With that he started walking again to catch up with the other two, but not before he added to Naomi, "And you'd better not be wrong."
The four of them continued on their walk, making it away from the hangars and to the buildings on the other side of the runway within the hour. Húxiān didn't give them the grand tour or anything like that, but she did tell them the major locations around base. The mess hall, which was situated between one of the control towers and one of the barracks, was the first place they passed by. Although Naomi was hungry, and she was sure that Count and Bandog were, too, she didn't ask to stop and the group continued walking. Húxiān also pointed out HQ to them, which was directly in the center of everything else and easy to get to. Naomi got a good look at each of the buildings. All of them were made out of standard material and looked sturdy and in better condition than the buildings Naomi was used to.
To their surprise, Húxiān led them past the main barracks and to a building at the end of everything, directly beside the only medical building they had. At last, she stopped and turned around. "And here we are. Your temporary housing until we get official orders on what to do with the three of you," she said. They all looked over the building. It was smaller in size compared to the other barracks, but no less attractive than the others. As Húxiān led them inside, Naomi felt like she was back at Fort Grays. It was a regular military building, with air conditioning, bright lights, and sleek floors. Húxiān noticed the look on their faces as she led them down the halls. "Much better than where you used to be stayin', huh?"
"This place is a palace compared to the 444th," Naomi replied with a laugh, unable to stop from grinning. "Y'all really know how to maintain a building." Even Count nodded in agreement, looking somewhat stunned. It was probably because he and Bandog had been at the 444th longer than Naomi had. She wondered just how long. It couldn't have been before the start of the war, but after going even a couple of days without the regular comforts could have some sort of effect on people.
Húxiān had a look of understanding on her face, as if she could relate to them in some way. However, she quickly put on a poker face and cleared her throat. "Mostly we put visiting commanders and their soldiers in this place, if they're just staying for repairs and resupply and whatnot. Or on the off chance that someone transfers here and we need a place to put them while we find suitable quarters." The way that she jumped right into an explanation gave Naomi the impression that she was either uncomfortable with any silence or she'd had to talk the place up before. Naomi would have been happy with anything, honestly, just so long as she could rest. Her feet and back were killing her. At last, Húxiān came to a stop in the middle of the hallway. "Okay, this is the place. Bandog and…Count, right? You'll be sharing this room and Trigger you have the one just across from them."
They looked at the two doors that she had pointed at and nodded that they understood. Count did give Bandog a distasteful look, but didn't try and argue. Naomi looked to Húxiān and smiled. "Thanks for the guide, Lieutenant," she said. Húxiān nodded and started to leave, but Naomi called out to her. "Wait! Wiseman said that someone was waiting for us…who is it?"
Húxiān paused, looking between the three of them before shaking her head. "I can't tell you that," she said. "Wiseman's orders. Just get settled and rest for a little while. Someone will come by later and take you to see our doctor for a checkup and then we'll go from there. I'm sorry I can't tell you more than that." With a quick goodbye she turned around and quickly went back the way that they'd come in. The door echoed as it opened and then slammed shut and they were left alone, standing in a quiet hallway.
A few soldiers walked by, talking, but other than that the building seemed so empty. They didn't know what to do. Naomi definitely didn't. They were without any personal belongings, save for what they were wearing. There wasn't anything to do but stay cooped up in a bare, empty room until someone came to get them. It was an awful lot like being back in prison. Without a word, too tired to really care, Naomi opened the door that led to the room she'd be staying in and she stepped inside. There was a cot set up in the corner of the room with a blanket folded at the foot of it and a pillow placed on top of that. Across from that there was a metal desk and on the far side of the room there was a window that had a view of the runway and the hangars.
She shut the door and laid down on the cot, looking up at the ceiling. After a long day in the air and on the ground, she was just happy to sleep in something a little more comfortable than what she'd been sleeping on before. As she closed her eyes, she couldn't get the vivid image of the drone she'd faced out of her mind. It was such a strange sight. Long, thin, incredibly agile and seeming to think for itself in a way. It was terrifying and fascinating at the same time. It reminded her of Mr. X, though. Like another version of him but with less experience and more agility. As she drifted off to sleep, the memories of her battle in Yinshi Valley and her battle with the prototype drone took the place of any dreams.
Erusean Air and Space Administration, Erusea.
August 6th, 2019.
0627hrs.
Mihaly studied the computer screen in front of him intently as he would if he was studying any enemy. On one side of the screen it displayed various well known aces from wars many years before and on the other side it played footage of the pilot with the three scratches. The three strikes. The footage of this strange pilot had been captured from cameras that Schroeder had equipped a few of the drones with to study them in combat in improve upon them. Shortly before their demise, they managed to record and send footage back to the EASA scientists of this pilot. Mihaly had also been looking over footage that he himself had captured during Yinshi.
However, none of the aces that he'd seen resembled this pilot's flying style. The closest he'd found had been of the ISAF pilot, Mobius 1, but his movements were more graceful and deliberate. It seemed more like he was dancing rather than fighting and he dragged the dogfight on for much too long. The last footage he had was of Ustio's mercenary team during the Belkan War. The infamous Galm Team that had made its way into the stuff of legends. Mihaly pressed play and rewinded the footage of his white whale to play them simultaneously as he had been doing all morning with the other aces.
The first clip of the Galm Team showed their lead plane, the Demon Lord, but his style was less destructive and he was selective about which targets he took down. It wasn't until they showed the second pilot of Galm Team did Mihaly finally see similarities. The pilot with one red wing — Solo Wing was his nickname if Mihaly remembered correctly — flew almost identically to the pilot with the three strikes. The only difference was that the one with three strikes was far more aggressive. One he got his target he made sure it was dead. Solo Wing had a more hit and run approach, letting a few damaged aircraft retreat. Mihaly studied them for a few moments longer before he shut down the computer.
He looked over at Dr. Schroeder, who was using a different computer a few feet away. The doctor looked up at him, but his expression was blank. Only his ice colored eyes betrayed his curiosity. "General Shilage," he said with a nod. "I take it you finally found what you've been looking for? You've been pouring over that footage for days, now. Surely something came of it." The man was right, although Mihaly didn't necessarily want to agree. There was hours worth of footage for nearly every ace that ever flew in the skies. Oddly enough, most of them seemed to have some connection to Osea. At least the ones within the last few years, with the exception of some Emmerian ace that was staying on his own continent and not getting involved with external conflicts.
"Yes, I believe I did find what I was looking for, Doctor," Mihaly said, glancing down at the computer. He looked back at Schroeder and studied the younger man for a few minutes. Schroeder was a Belkan, and one that was old enough to remember what living in the country was like during the war. Which meant that he must remember some stories about the Galm Team. Although it was a somewhat insensitive approach, Mihaly felt like he needed to know the connection between the three lines and Solo Wing and this was one way to do it. "I do happen to have a question for you, though."
Schroeder looked up, blinking in surprise. "Oh?" He narrowed his eyes, almost suspiciously. "What is it?"
Mihaly tried to think of a way to phrase it, simply going right to the point. "Do you know anything about the Galm Team?" he asked calmly. "More specifically, anything about the pilot with the one red wing?" Schroeder's expression turned to one of shock and worry, his mouth curving down into a frown and his eyes flashing briefly with something close to fear. Mihaly waited patiently for a response, but Schroeder didn't answer, taking a deep breath and typing something into his computer. His patience slowly running out, Mihaly prodded him for more information. "Doctor? I only need to know a little bit about them. It's very important to me."
After taking another deep breath, the Belkan scientist finally lifted his head from the computer and nodded with a blank expression. "Yes, I know a little bit about them. Mostly stories from my parents and a few family friends," he replied. "If you want to know about Solo Wing…well, the military had a price on his head for a while. He trained in the Belkan Air Force before defecting when political tensions began to rise. After that, many in our country wanted him dead. He and his wingman, the Demon Lord, made a reputation for themselves as you can guess. After the war ended most people forgot about him until the documentary in 2005 was released. He was the one primarily interviewed and we got to hear his side of the conflict. Silly thing, really, but Belkan parents tell their children stories about these two pilots to scare them."
"Interesting…" Mihaly said, working to take the new information into consideration. He quickly left the hangar, but not before thanking Schroeder for sharing the information. It wasn't much to go off of, but it did make it easier to figure out where he needed to look for information on this Solo Wing. Mihaly figured that this new pilot, an Osean hotshot it would seem, was likely trained by the Demon Lord's wingman. He couldn't know for sure this soon, but he'd find out who this pilot was soon enough. Mihaly liked having some sense of who he was facing in the air, and putting a face to the three strikes was now his own personal mission. And now he had a lead in his own little investigation. He was never much of an intelligence officer, but he had some colleagues that he could ask.
Mihaly exited the hangar and sat down in the chair he had set up outside of it, surveying the area. Sol Squadron's planes were lined up outside, while his own aircraft had been locked away in the hangar to gather the last of the flight data that had been recorded. Nearby, the Erusean transport plane that the King's daughter travelled on was being loaded up while the princess exercised her dog. Mihaly watched them carefully, considering the young woman was joined by his two granddaughters. Although Ionela was rather independent and graceful, Alma had a tendency to be the opposite whenever she wanted to. The child enjoyed roughhousing every now and then and Mihaly was tired of having to clean up scrapes she'd gotten or frequently buying her more dresses.
In some way, Mihaly felt a little guilty for spending so little time with his granddaughters. He'd promised their mother that he'd take care of them before she'd died and he did a rather poor job in his own opinion. Alma was too young to understand, but Ionela resented the war, and Schroeder, and on some occasions it seemed she resented him. Mihaly wasn't that bothered by it. He figured that the sky was all he needed. At least up there he didn't have to deal with the drama and politics behind the war or with a teenager that thought she knew best. Ionela and Alma were very mature and well mannered children, but that didn't mean they didn't act their ages once in a while.
He tilted his head back to look up at the sky. It was still dark blue from the previous night, but with the sun rising to the east it added several other shades. Oranges, bright pinks, and purples were the most notable, but before long all of those colors would fade away and be replaced by the usual blue. Mihaly took a deep breath as he kept his eyes on the sky. No clouds. Nothing but endless blue for miles. As he watched the sunrise, Mihaly couldn't help but wonder if his newfound rival had the same love for the skies as he did. Whether or not he felt the same rush every time he was given the opportunity to fly and had the same since of freedom. Although the questions were ridiculous and likely never to be answered, Mihaly still enjoyed going over them in his head and reaching his own conclusion.
I'll figure you out, yet, Three Strikes. Whoever you really are. And when we meet again, I intend to be prepared.
New Arrows Air Base, East Usea.
0836hrs.
Avril took a good look around the strange hangar, noting the F-15s that she'd repaired only just a few weeks before. The planes still looked like they were in good condition, the same not able to be said about Count and Trigger's planes. She'd been allowed to take a look at them the night before and she realized — not for the first time — that their planes were nothing more than worthless pieces of shit. They were made from nothing but scrap metal and other spare parts, so it wasn't like it was any fault of their pilots. What was the fault of said pilots was the fact that Avril was standing in a strange hangar after being stuck in a room for an entire day with no familiar faces around.
The day before, she boarded the transport plane with Tabloid and they started on a course to Tyler Island like they were supposed to. Then they had to land for some reason and before long they were back in the air but Avril and Tabloid were sent off in a different direction. They arrived at the LRSSG's base where Major Wiseman apologized for the inconvenience before separating her and Tabloid and sending them off to see a doctor. Apparently they were both suffering from malnutrition and Avril was lucky they even told her where Tabloid was and what was going on. Even though she hadn't known him for very long, he was the only friend she had and on this base he was most definitely the only friend she had.
Eventually, once the day was nearly finished, a man that she didn't know 'introduced' himself to Avril and three of the LRSSG's pilots (she only recognized Fencer) told her that Count, Trigger, and their dumbass AWACS had arrived at base. Avril asked to see them and Tabloid, demanding to know what the hell was going on, but they simply told her that they needed to speak with them all separately but that she'd see them again soon enough. When Avril awoke that morning, Wiseman came to visit her and told her to get something to eat and that she was free to visit the hangar if she wanted to. Overall, Avril felt like she was just back in prison at the 444th, just minus the dirt and awful smell.
Echoing footsteps brought Avril's attention away from her anger at the situation and her thoughts on the last twenty-four hours. She looked up and saw Wiseman, accompanied by two other men. Avril recognized Tabloid's lanky figure almost instantly and when he saw her he straightened up and rushed over. Avril limped as fast as she could and met him halfway. "Tabloid! Where the hell have you been?" she quickly demanded, looking him over quickly. He looked the same as always, dumb grin and all. Perhaps he looked somewhat more well rested than usual, but there was still some exhaustion that showed in his eyes. "I thought they gave us both some free rein."
"Yeah, but first they wanted to talk to me about McKinsey and give me an incredibly thorough physical," Tabloid replied, holding out his arms and looking himself over. He let his arms fall back to his side, shrugging. "Aside from being a little out of shape thanks to Zapland, the doc gives me the all clear." Almost concerned, he looked Avril over and raised an eyebrow as he took a step towards her and lowered his voice. "What about you? I mean, you look ready to kill someone so I can see how you're doing emotionally, but…"
"I'm fine. I'm in decent shape and aside from wanting to break someone's nose I'll be fine," Avril quickly said to him, glaring behind him at Wiseman and the new guy.
Tabloid followed her stare and turned around. He chuckled, his grin getting wider as he turned around to face her. "I've been talking with them all morning. Didn't Wiseman tell you who the older guy is?" Avril narrowed her eyes on the man she'd sort of met the previous day. He didn't tell her his name, just that he knew Trigger. Tabloid calling him old was a little inaccurate. He was maybe in his late forties or mid fifties, with light brown hair and dark brown eyes. In some ways there were similarities between this guy and Trigger. Avril looked back to Tabloid and shook her head. He placed his hand on her back and started to guide her over to the man and to Wiseman. "He was…umm…well, he's a lot of things. My parents used to tell me stories about him and his flight leader. In the air, they're both terrifying. And he's got a connection to Trigger."
The two, older men stopped their own discussion and turned to face Avril and Tabloid with looks of amusement. The man Avril had come over to meet smiled at her. "Sorry I didn't introduce myself yesterday, Miss Mead," he said kindly. Avril scowled as he continued talking, unfazed by her demeanor. "Your friend, Tabloid, has told me a lot about you. And your other friend, er…Duke or Prince or something like that." Count. Avril corrected him silently, crossing her arms. The man shrugged it off. "In any case, it's good to know that my daughter was in good company."
Of course! Avril felt like an idiot for not seeing it sooner. The eyes, the hair, and even the smile. She recognized them because she'd seen them before, but belonging to her cellmate and a dumbass pilot instead of a war hardened ace. "You're Larry Foulke," Avril said, smirking slightly as she held out her hand. He gave her a firm handshake and nodded. "Of course you are. You know, your daughter looks a lot like you. Flies like you, too, except she's more reckless and aggressive. No offense intended, but I've seen some footage and you're more…well, you follow a different set of rules than she does."
"So I've been told," Foulke said, glancing over at Wiseman. He looked back at Avril and Tabloid. "I hear she took on some badass in Yinshi Valley. Nice vacation spot, but I'd never want to fly through the place during a storm. Were…both of you there as well?"
Avril noticed that he looked down at the brace on her leg and she shifted slightly and shook her head. "No. No, I can't fly. It was just Tabloid that was there." She chuckled, recalling the story that Tabloid had told her of the encounter. "From what he told me, though, it was a pretty crazy thing."
"Really?" he looked proud and concerned all at once. The pride was obvious. It was his child and he'd heard about her doing something amazing. The concern was for the exact same reason. It was instinctive, because he'd heard about his child doing an amazing, stupid, and crazy thing. There was a pang of sadness and anger that Avril felt towards her own father, wondering if he'd be proud of her skills and yet concerned that she was now at a strange base with prisoners that she'd even go so far as to consider her friends. However, she pushed the thought away as Tabloid began to tell his own version of the story to Foulke.
They must have caught Foulke up on everything about Trigger in just a short while, with Wiseman putting in the two incidents that he had witnessed himself. Avril, however, wasn't pleased with Wiseman's presence although the other two appreciated his input. While Foulke and Tabloid continued to chat, Avril stepped aside and asked Wiseman to come with her. The major, although confused, obliged and followed her outside to stand on the ramp. Avril looked back inside to make sure that Tabloid was keeping him busy before she turned on Wiseman. "Look, I put up with you guys at Zapland but I'm finding it difficult to tolerate you right now," she said quickly. "I want to know why you brought us here, why you brought a former Belkan terrorist here, and why — so far — the only people I haven't seen are Trigger and Count?"
Wiseman looked back with a calm expression and replied in a level voice. "You're worried about your friends. I respect that," he said with a slow nod. "Trigger, Count, and Bandog are fine. I'm having Bandog meet with our base commander about McKinsey and Count and Trigger are undergoing the same physical that you and Tabloid had." Avril nodded to show that she was listening, thinking back to the doctor that looked her over the day before. It had been quick and simple, like any regular checkup. She could understand that. What she wanted to know the most was why they were here.
Luckily for her, Wiseman was quick to answer her remaining questions. "We didn't bring Lieutenant Foulke here, he requested to come himself and added to the information that Bandog and Full Band gave us about your base commander, McKinsey. As for why we brought you here…" He sighed before continuing. "The battle at Tyler Island is starting to let up just enough to send in more troops, however Osea already deployed a unit to help them. There's a larger penal unit and a regular squadron from the OMDF that were sent out and they should be enough to get us the upper hand. As a result, the 444th was being sent into a battle that they didn't have to be a part of. The others were rerouted — very last minute — to North Point to regroup but I requested you and Tabloid to be sent here."
Avril narrowed her eyes. "Why?" she asked. "Why did you want us?"
"Well, I was planning on putting in a request for transfer to our unit for Count and Trigger," Wiseman answered. "When I heard they'd been pardoned, I knew their ranks would be reinstated soon but they'd just be sitting by until someone decided to take pity on them and give a couple of problem children a chance. I know what that's like, and so do some of my crew. It's not fun sittin' on the sidelines because no one trusts you enough to let you have an opportunity to turn your life around. Now, you and Tabloid are in the same boat as your friends. You're one hell of a mechanic. We could really use your skill around here. And with some work I think that your friend Tabloid could make a great fighter pilot. But you've just gotta trust us."
She crossed her arms again and squinted as she turned around to look out at the runway and the row of buildings that made up the rest of the base. However much Avril knew she should be grateful, it didn't change that everyone they'd run into had screwed her over. Osea had screwed them over, and by extension so had the military. But if Wiseman was offering them an opportunity to prove McKinsey and the Oseans wrong and giving them a chance to be more than a bunch of misfits then maybe he wasn't so bad. Avril sighed at last and turned back to look at Wiseman. "Alright. I'll talk it over with Tabloid. And Count and Trigger when they get here. But you can't just snap your fingers and make everything better. It's gonna take some time."
"Believe me, I've been down this road before," Wiseman said with a laugh. "I don't expect change overnight. But, if you don't mind, I'd like to speak with Trigger myself, though. I've got something to go over with her."
"That's fine with me," Avril said with a shrug. The two of them shook hands and then returned to the hangar to rejoin Tabloid and Foulke. She wasn't sure how she felt. The base was large and there was plenty of work she could do with their planes, but if she wanted a second chance it would be to just go back being a civilian and work with regular vehicles, like cars. It wasn't as fun but it would probably keep her out of trouble. Ah, what the hell, she thought. At least here I can do some good. Besides, if I go then who's gonna look after these dumbasses?
0930hrs.
Naomi let out a sigh of relief as soon as she stepped outside. She'd spent her entire morning being poked and prodded by one of the medics they had on base. After spending a good hour and a half with that, the doctor finally reached the conclusion that she wasn't suffering from anything serious. Malnutrition and a mild case of fatigue were what he had said before advising her to call it an early night and informed her that the mess hall would be told to give her a proper diet to get her strength back up. And just like that she was free to roam the base, surprised that they weren't being more strict with them. It was hard to keep reminding herself that she wasn't a criminal anymore. Well, not officially anyways. The General Staff Office was still reviewing her case and would reach a conclusion within the next few days.
As she took a good look at her surroundings, she noticed Count leaning against the building wall just a short ways from the door and smoking a cigarette. He looked up when he saw her and smirked. "I've been waiting here for almost a half an hour," he said to her, tossing his cigarette and crushing it with his heel as he took a few steps to reach her.
She looked him over and it seemed that he hadn't gotten much sleep the night before, not that it stopped him from acting like his usual self. Naomi crossed her arms, putting on a smirk to mirror his own. "You didn't have to wait for me, you know," she said. "You could have gone on to the mess hall and gotten breakfast."
Count shrugged. "I…er…I didn't really feel like eating anything," he answered, perhaps a little embarrassed. "I don't like visiting the doctor all that much and it kind of took away my appetite." Sighing, he shoved his hands into his pockets and looked up at the sky. Naomi did the same. It was an overcast day with a cool breeze, making it feel closer to early autumn than it did to summer. Count reached up and scratched the back of his neck out of what Naomi guessed was a nervous habit. "It looks like it's gonna rain soon. Or, maybe it's just McKinsey that's creating that dark cloud…"
Both of them awkwardly laughed at the joke, making it clear that neither one of them knew what to do in that moment or with the rest of their day. Naomi tried to find some sort of conversation to have with him, but now that the deal with McKinsey was out of their hands and they weren't forced to cooperate with one another for the sake of getting through their time in prison alive, so there wasn't much to talk about anymore. She felt bad that she was a little upset that the drama and excitement was starting to die down. It made her life interesting for a month or so and now it was just gone. She'd probably be assigned to some random unit and never see Count or anyone from the 444th or the LRSSG ever again.
They stayed put in silence for a minute or two before they were approached by Fencer and Húxiān. The two squadron mates were dressed in flight suits that both bore the Cyclops patch, and wore much friendlier expressions than they had the day before. It was Fencer who spoke first, grinning. "Ah, just the people we were hoping to run into," he said to them. Naomi noticed that Count was uncomfortable around the two of them. She didn't know if it was just because he didn't trust him or he just didn't like them. Regardless, Naomi brushed her hand against his and gave him a reassuring smile. He looked to her with an almost grateful expression and relaxed a considerable amount as Fencer and Húxiān closed the distance between them. "How are the two of you settling in?"
Naomi and Count exchanged a look before Naomi answered, "Umm…well, we haven't had much of a chance to really get settled. Not to mention, we don't really know if we'll be staying long enough to even bother getting settled."
"Well, with the way Major Wiseman was going on at dinner last night it sounded like you guys had already joined the squadron," Húxiān said, stirring some confusion in both of them. Her face fell. "Uh…he said he was going to be bringing it up to you once the mess with your commanding officer is cleared up. I heard he wants to speak with the top brass about the two of you. A recommendation or something like that." The four of them fell into an awkward silence, one that was extremely uncomfortable as well.
Fencer quickly started the conversation up again. "You know, speaking of Wiseman, we actually came to find you on his orders." This got Naomi and Count's attention. "Remember how he'd told you that there were some people back at our base that would be waiting for you? Well, our guests are getting impatient and if either of you are feeling up to it then Wiseman wanted you to stop by."
The curiosity about who was waiting for them suddenly found its way back to the center of Naomi's thoughts, not to mention the excitement of who it could be. A part of her hoped it was Avril or Tabloid, but the chances of that happening were slim. Nevertheless, Count and Naomi both eagerly agreed and Fencer and Húxiān led them away. The walk to the other side of the base and to the hangars wasn't nearly as far as it felt the day before. It was still a several minute long walk, but Naomi wasn't sore or anything after it and Count didn't seem bothered by it either. By the time they reached the hangar, it was already starting to drizzle slightly and there was a distant rumbling of thunder.
They entered the hangar, which was full of activity like it was the day before. There was chattering, clattering, and even what sounded like someone singing to themselves while they worked. Looking around the first time, Naomi didn't see anybody she recognized. Tailor and Skald, the pilots from the day before, were the first faces that caught her eye. And they were talking to someone that was wearing a flight suit like the ones Naomi and Count had on. A dusty, green flight suit with a red band around one arm and a prisoner number printed on it. And even from behind, there wasn't any mistaking the messy brown hair and even some facial hair that was visible from the angle he was standing at.
It was Count that was the first to find his voice, calling out in disbelief, "Tabloid?!" The three immediately stopped their conversation and sure enough their friend from the 444th turned around with his usual grin. Count and Naomi rushed forward, with Naomi going the extra mile and wrapping her arms around Tabloid's neck in a hug. They pulled away, with Count and Tabloid exchanging a friendly handshake as a greeting instead of a hug. Count seemed to be shocked and happy at the same time as he let out a scoff. "Holy shit, what are you doing here?"
"Stick with Trigger, remember? I weighed my options and realized I had a better chance of living if I went after you two," Tabloid replied and winked at Naomi. Count rolled his eyes and Naomi shook her head with a laugh. He joined in before he finally offered a rational explanation, "Actually, it's a pretty long story, so I'll try and give you the short version. Apparently they didn't need us at Tyler Island and Wiseman wanted mine and Avril's side of the story so everyone else went on to North Point and we got sent here. I mean, not such a bad plan but I'd have dealt with it a little differently."
"Wait, so that means Avril's here too?" Naomi quickly asked and Tabloid nodded. She looked around, but didn't see her anywhere. Disappointed, she looked back at Tabloid. "Where is she, then?"
Before Tabloid could answer, and as if she'd been waiting for the perfect moment the entire time, a familiar voice called out, "I'm right here, dumbass." Naomi and Count both smiled as they looked to Avril, the Scrap Queen ducking underneath the wing of one of the planes she'd be working on. She was wiping her hands with a rag as she approached them, a surprisingly friendly look on her face. At last, she'd managed to limp over to them, tossing the rag over her shoulder and placing her hands on her hips. "It's about time the two of you showed up. We were beginning to think that Major Wiseman was lying to us about the two of you actually being here. They did show us your planes, though. What the hell did you do to yours, Trigger? It was in perfect condition and now its got a bunch of dents in it from being shot at!"
Naomi gave an awkward chuckle. "It's a long story, but I'll tell it to you later," she said. For the moment, she was just happy that she hadn't been apart from her friends for too long. Knowing that they wouldn't be heading to a place like Tyler Island any time soon was a relief and now she had more than one person to help her adjust around the base. That is, if she'd actually be staying. The three of them caught one another up on the events of the morning and the day before, and it seemed that even Count was as happy as Naomi was to be back with Tabloid and Avril. She didn't know if Count thought of the three of them as his friends or not, but if he didn't then he was definitely starting to warm up to it. Maybe with some time he'd be less prickly towards Bandog, too.
After a few minutes, Major Wiseman entered the hangar and their conversation had to come to a halt. He joined their small circle and gave an apologetic look to them all and said, "I'm sorry to interrupt." It was sincere, but none of them were too bothered by it. They were almost arguing about whether or not Tabloid really had any confirmed kills during their time with Spare Squadron, and Naomi wasn't interested in getting into a long, drawn out debate at the moment. Neither was Avril, so only Tabloid and Count looked even slightly upset by the fact that they were cut off. Wiseman, once sure that there were no protests, looked around at them all with a kind smile. "Could I borrow Count and Trigger for a moment? There's just one last person I want you to see. He's been eager to meet you two."
They looked to Avril and Tabloid, both giving them a nod. Count looked back to Wiseman and looked him up and down for a moment before gesturing towards the open hangar door. "Lead the way, Major." Wiseman was happy to oblige, and once again Naomi and Count were led away from their friends. Naomi glanced over her shoulder at them in time to see Avril and Tabloid turn away and say something to each other. The walk wasn't very long this time, since Wiseman only led them right outside the hangar. The rain was starting to come down harder now, and Naomi looked up at the sky, appreciating the coolness that the rain brought with it. Her attention was brought back to their visitor when Count placed his hand on her shoulder and shook her slightly to make sure she was paying attention. First she looked to him quizzically. He nodded towards where Wiseman had stopped and was waiting for them. "You'll never guess who the guy Wiseman was talking about is."
"Who?" Naomi asked him, but he didn't answer. She simply followed his surprised, borderline worried stare and stopped. Standing just a few feet away was someone she never thought she'd see again and someone that she was more than a little upset with. Now that she knew she wouldn't die and prison and now that she knew what he'd hidden from her, she felt a lot less guilt for being mad. Face to face with her was her father. The only reason she felt even a little bit of guilt was because he looked so happy to see her, and she was happy to see him again. Instead of rushing forward and hugging him like a child or instead of even a curt 'hello', Naomi stood where she was and blurted out, "What are you doing here?!"
The warm smile quickly curved into a frown and her father looked as though someone had just slapped him for no reason. "Naomi? I thought you'd be happy to see me," he said and Naomi drew herself up and took a step back. She was amazed at how foreign her own name sounded to her after hearing nothing but 'Trigger' for the last month, and although now she wanted to hug him, she just couldn't do it. Her dad looked to Count and Wiseman in shock, even Count looking surprised by Naomi's behavior. Clearing his throat, her dad tried to reach out to her again. "I was worried about you. I heard that Spare Squadron was sent on a lot of suicide missions and—"
"And where'd you hear this from? Belkan Military Intelligence?" The words came out before she could think them through properly, and Naomi quickly blinked in surprise as her father stood there, stunned by what she'd said. Regaining herself and not giving him a chance to respond, Naomi looked to Count and Wiseman. "Umm…do you think I could have a moment alone with my father, please?"
Wiseman looked to her dad, who nodded, and he too nodded. "Take all the time you need," he said. The major looked to Count. "It's Count, right?" Count nodded, glancing at Naomi and relaxing instead of standing rigidly as if bracing himself for an attack. Wiseman smiled. "Perfect! I want to talk to you about something if that's alright." The two men put some distance between them and father and daughter to ensure that they could have a decent, honest conversation.
Once they were out of earshot, Naomi turned on her father, taking a few steps towards him. "I found out your secret. You know, the one that everyone in our family has been hiding from me my entire life," she snapped. She was going to say what she'd been wanting to say ever since she found out. "I knew you were Belkan. That in itself is fine. Why would anyone be ashamed because of what country they were born in? But I'm upset at what you hid from me. Let's see…oh, yeah! You betrayed allied forces during the Belkan War and ran off to some terrorist organization, you're an anarchist, and apparently both of my parents were mercenaries?! Oh, and not to mention that my brother and sister were both alive and well aware of what was going on in this time period and you all made the decision to just not tell me." The last thing she wanted to ask him about…the one thing that she'd started to figure out. It was a long shot, but the more she thought it the more she realized it could have been the reason. "That's the reason they immediately assumed I killed Harling, isn't it? Because of my goddamned last name! They knew who you were, and they knew who I was. I was the traitor's daughter."
Her father looked at her with a mix of anger and pity. When he spoke though, there was something close to guilt in his words. "I didn't tell you because it was for your own good, Naomi," he explained to her. "I didn't want you to live in constant fear that someone your parents pissed off during a pointless war were going to hunt you down one day. Your brother and sister had to deal with that. It almost stopped your brother from being a pilot and your sister wanted nothing to do with the air force as a result. She chose a career on the sidelines, which is what I'm starting to wish you had done."
"Yeah, no shit! Me too!" she exclaimed, scoffing and throwing her hands up in the air. "I was treated like shit at the 444th because of you, y'know that? In fact, now I'm really starting to think I was right. The only reason I was there in the first place was because of your stupidity during the war. And now I have to deal with the consequences, not you!" Naomi usually wasn't so disrespectful towards her father, and a part of her hated herself for speaking to him like that. She loved him and respected him, but now that she was face to face with someone she knew to be a liar…she just wanted him to know how hurt she was that her family hid such a major part of their lives from her. The realization that they'd always have a bond that she could never share with one another due to what they'd been through together was hard to think about. Suddenly overwhelmed, Naomi pressed her hand to her temple and looked up at her father. "I just…I'm not ready to talk. I need to calm down. I'm stressed and I'm angry and I have McKinsey to take care of first and my friends and…"
She trailed off, starting to back away. "Naomi…" her dad started, but Naomi spun around and marched away, not giving him a chance to go on. Was it immature? Most likely, but she'd already said a few things she regretted and she didn't feel like adding to that list. Frustrated, and unsure where she was going, Naomi simply continued on her walk blindly simply with the intention to cool off. When did she get so angry? She thought she'd been over the information she'd found out about her family. Somehow, she pictured their reunion differently. There was more smiling and less arguing. Apparently she was more upset than she'd thought. Ignoring the rain that continued to fall, she tried to think of solutions to the problems she was facing. McKinsey, her dad, the whole damned war.
Naomi sighed and clenched her fists. I'm tired of all this shit...
Author's Note: Now this was a fun chapter to write. We've got two chapters before the chapter for Fleet Destruction, and the next chapter contains a special little treat for y'all so keep an eye out for it! ;)