Chapter Thirty-One: Double-Crossed

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Anchorhead Bay, Erusea.
September 10th, 2019.
1705hrs.

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Torres paced the bridge of the Alicorn, looking at the feed the drones had picked up and surveying the damage Three Strikes had inflicted upon the bay. He resisted the urge to chuckle, noting that the Erusean's stubbornness and ego had been their downfall. To think it had been one of their own that had given this information to a foolish, young Osean officer that was too eager to please and unfitting of his rank. Three Strikes had a price on her head that everyone, including her own countrymen, were eager to claim. This battle had been meant as a death sentence for both the Erusean fleet and for the Osean squadron. And yet it seemed that she and her men escaped death once again. Funny how that worked out.

As the crew clambered about, preparing to dock and resupply their mighty ship, Torres turned his attention to a computer that displayed a different video feed. Patiently waiting was Torres' old friend and shipmate, Edgar Saxon. Graying dark brown hair and blue eyes became him, and he still was very neat and well-dressed. Not much had changed in the last few years. Even at the bottom of the ocean he was still very prim and proper for a war-hardened Navy man. The man monitoring the computer moved aside, and Edgar straightened up as Torres approached. He greeted him with a quick, stiff nod. "Captain. It seems that everything went as it was supposed to."

"Yes, exactly as it was supposed to," Torres replied, still fighting a smile or a dark chuckle. "Meet us at the drop-off point. Three Strikes has removed all straggler Erusean forces, so I'd say everything is clear. The city's mostly empty now." He finally allowed the smile as he saw one creep onto Edgar's face, though he held back the laugh. Torres glanced over his shoulder at where his crew was preparing the sub to surface, then looked back at Edgar. "That did make for a good sideshow..."

Edgar chuckled, tilting his head back slightly and relaxing in his seat a bit. "I have no doubt that the Plan to Save Ten Million Lives will lead Erusea to true victory."

"Stop thinking so small." Torres tried his hardest not to snap, but he couldn't keep the irritation out of his voice. It was so much more than just that. It wasn't just ten million. There were many lives they could save by ending this war once and for all, maybe even ending all wars once and for all. If they just managed this, then everyone would finally know. They'd finally learn. "It's salvation on a far grander scale than that. The victory won't belong to Erusea, it will belong to the world and to generations that fought before us and those that will come after us."

"I'm sorry, sir. I keep forgetting to look at the bigger picture." Edgar seemed almost guilty, but it didn't last long as he came up with something else to discuss. "I've been meaning to tell you something. There's a rumor going around in the military, that's caused quite a stir from what I can tell." He lowered his voice a bit, adopting a more somber tone. "'Three Strikes in the sky is a sign of an ill omen.' It's weird, since for most of the Oseans she's the exact opposite."

Torres scoffed. "Three Strikes...she lacks the drive." He began pacing in a small line, back and forth in front of the screen. It earned him some worried and disgruntled looks from the crew, all of whom could tell that another one of his speeches was coming. He didn't care. After a moment, he found the right words and quickly continued, "Alright, imagine you're just about to be killed. Why am I going to be killed, you ask. It's because they wanted to steal from you, to torment you, to burn you, to cut you apart!" Torres began to raise his voice, becoming more and more passionate about the topic, hoping that it would make a greater impact and get his point across. "It was for your sins, your actions, your vengeance! There has to be a reason for the things that you do and for the actions you take against others. An eye for an eye! Three Strikes is a small piece to a much bigger picture, taking orders from others. She has no meaning behind her actions or behind her work. Nothing to fight for. She has NONE OF THAT!" He paused to catch his breath and cleared his throat. "I, on the other hand, do."

"Of course, sir. I wasn't doubting your abilities," Edgar said with an apologetic look on his face. His eyes lit up. "Now that you mention drive and vengeance, then it might interest you to know a bit more about Three Strikes' heritage. That is, assuming you're interested. I figure that if Osea continues to deploy such a nuisance to the front lines, especially as a desperate last resort once our goal has been completed, then I could give you some extra motivation against her. To make it a bit more interesting, in the long run. Are you interested?"

"I already have a good enough reason to fight against her. She's a murderer and she's getting in the way of my plans," Torres said, regaining his calm composure. He sighed, but he couldn't hide that he was intrigued. "But, if you have the time, then why not?"

"Well, you remember Mobius One, do you not? ISAF's ace? The Ribbon Fighter? The Grim Reaper?" Edgar asked, listing off just about every alias that the pilot was known by.

Torres bristled, well aware of Mobius One. It was that pilot that had sent his ship to the ocean, and what set off his realization that someone had to take action. In a way he could thank him, but he'd lost much more than he'd gained thanks to ISAF and that worthless, coward of a pilot. "Yes, I know who he is," Torres said shortly. "What's your point?"

Edgar kept a straight face, picking up a pen and fidgeting with it as he spoke. "Well, he was known to Erusea by many, many names, was he not? But there's one name that we weren't aware of until recently. Some more Osean traitors from their upper ranks came forward, just like with the leaked intel on Three Strikes' identity," he said, and Torres raised an eyebrow, studying the somewhat distorted face in the screen for any evidence that he was pulling his chain. He seemed dead serious about it though. "As it turns out, that Belkan terrorist — Solo Wing Pixy — came from a long line of aces...a line which he continued. He and his family dropped off the radar during the Circum-Pacific War, but as it turns out not only is Three Strikes his daughter and youngest child...but Mobius One is his second born and his only son."

It was unexpected news. Torres was stunned for a moment, unable to find the words to respond for several seconds. He balled his hand into a fist, reliving the first time he got a good look at the Grim Reaper up close. The first time he knew that he was one of the targets of that pilot was a different story. A different feeling. For years he wondered about the identity of this man. This coward that struck defenseless targets without any warning. Judging from today's battle, it was a family trait. They fought without honor. At least they didn't gun down retreating aircraft. As far as he knew, anyways. Still, to learn the two were related...let alone that their father was an infamous traitor and mercenary. It took a moment to really register it all.

He shook his head, then put on a small smile. "Well, that is interesting. It does definitely up the stakes a bit, now doesn't it? I get revenge for the destruction of my ship and this disgusting war comes to an end, all on the same day..." Torres chuckled again. "I appreciate your help. That was some valuable information. We won't have long to talk, but I'll discuss what I can while we're there. I'd prefer if we had some privacy to discuss our next course of action when it comes to the Oseans."

"Of course, sir," Edgar said. "I'm happy to have been able to help."

Without any proper goodbye, those few words being enough for the two of them, and the video cut off to static. Torres allowed the crewman to go back to his post, and returned to his own position. His command duty officer seemed more anxious than usual, glancing Torres' way a couple of times. At last, he voiced what was on his mind. "Now that you know of the connection between Three Strikes and Mobius One, does that change anything? Is she a higher priority target now?"

Torres thought for a moment. "She's always been a high priority target. Once she's out of the way, our troubles practically disappear," he said. "But now, this entire plan has become so much more than it originally was. It was always going to be a rare work of art but now...now it's a masterpiece. An intricate, perfectly thought out masterpiece of a plan. And I for one can't wait."

New Arrows Air Base, East Usea.
1800hrs.

"You bastard!"

The door to the briefing room was flung open, so hard that it was a wonder it didn't fly off the hinges. Naomi and Húxiān were the first through the door, both women on the warpath, and their target already knew what he'd done. Clemens turned away from the screen, his eyes widening as Húxiān made a move for him. The ones that stayed behind barely had any idea what was going on, but the sudden surge in activity and emotion caught their attention and everyone tensed up. Bandog stood by the door with Sarge on leash, and the guard dog sprang to her feet and began to bark and add to the chaos in the room as Húxiān crossed the room, trying to pull Bandog down in order to reach Clemens before Húxiān. He had more success in holding Sarge back than Húxiān had of reigning in her temper.

Everyone except for Naomi and Count stepped in to try and stop Húxiān from reaching the brigadier general, Wiseman and Jaeger being the first ones, quickly followed by Skald and then Fencer. Lanza didn't try and stop her, simply trying to reach his seat with the cold drink he'd gotten on their way over, but he got caught in the middle of it and had no choice but to try and pull Húxiān back like the others. Naomi was perfectly willing to let her rough Clemens up, but unfortunately the older pilots didn't share the sentiment. Hell, if Húxiān hadn't tried it first then Naomi would be the one they were holding back. She wanted to see that bastard answer for whatever he'd done.

"Húxiān, NO!" Jaeger shouted as he tried to shove Húxiān back, pushing her towards the seats.

"Cut it out!" Skald grunted. "Stop it!"

"Hey, would you chill?!" Lanza snapped as he managed to drag her into the row of chairs, his soda slipping out of his hands and falling to the floor, adding the sound of glass shattering to the already hectic atmosphere. That was when he let go of Húxiān, his jaw dropping and his eyes widening. His brow furrowed and he plopped into his seat with a look on his face that was a mix of shock and anger.

"Húxiān, stand down!" Wiseman growled and Húxiān stopped fighting once she realized how angry Wiseman was, brought out of her fury long enough for him to shove her down into the chair. "Now SIT! And calm down!"

She sat there next to Lanza, crossing her arms with a furious look on her face as Fencer sat beside her, and then Skald on Lanza's other side. Avril, Tabloid, and Tailor exchanged a confused look and everyone seemed focused on Húxiān at that moment. Lanza crossed his arms as well and scowled, slouching in his chair. "Shit," he said, glancing towards Húxiān with a look almost as murderous as hers. "My cola..."

In spite of his apparent grief about the loss of his drink, one stone cold look from Húxiān shut him up and the two of them sat in silence, practically pouting like children as they did so. Bandog finally settled Sarge down, her barking finally cut off and she let out a frustrated whine and settled down at his feet. Everyone else settled down, but Naomi was still angry and Wiseman wasn't about to let another incident with Húxiān happen. He walked over to her, Naomi's father behind him. Jaeger stood by Húxiān to make sure that she didn't get up again and Long Caster was keeping Clemens occupied. Naomi's father looked more worried than he did angry, having stayed out of the confrontation with Húxiān as a last line of defense for Clemens.

Naomi wished they'd just let Húxiān have at him, then she could go for the guy. If he was involved with those bats, and it sounded like he was, then Naomi wanted him to get what was coming. He'd been responsible for Lanza and Count getting hit. He may not have been responsible for Húxiān and her injuries, but Count and Naomi were pretty banged up from the fight. Naomi and Count stood their ground as Wiseman and Naomi's father approached her, Count having stayed by Naomi's side since they'd landed at base. Naomi would have been lying if she said that she didn't want him there, but at the same time she didn't want him on his feet if he didn't have to be. Naomi huffed as Wiseman approached, asking a silent question with the pointed look he gave her. "You heard the conversation he had with those bats, Wiseman. Long Caster heard it. We all heard it. You may have stopped Húxiān, but if you don't do something about him then I'm going to do something about it. And you're not gonna be able to stop me."

"I get it, you're pissed off, but we can't just jump on the guy like that!" Wiseman said, keeping his voice low so that Clemens couldn't overhear them.

"You're standing up for the guy, Wiseman? Seriously?" Count said with a scoff, shaking his head. "Unbelievable. Why not let us confront him, give the son of a bitch a chance to defend himself."

"We're not defending him," Naomi's father said quickly and calmly. "That analyst guy has something for us, and Bandog overheard something while he was here. We're going to give him a chance to defend himself, but he can't do that if you knock the guy unconscious."

Naomi opened her mouth to object, but Wiseman raised a hand. "We're not letting him get away with it. Trigger, Count, you go and sit down. Now. Let's get this debriefing over with and that way we can take things one problem at a time. You two can't just run head first into every situation." The two of them knew he was right, and looked away from him, trying to calm themselves down a bit. Wiseman's expression and voice softened a bit. "Go sit down and relax. You've had a rough day, so take it easy for a few minutes. And don't try anything."

"Yes, sir..." Naomi muttered, and she and Count took a seat at the front of the room, Wiseman and Jaeger joining them seconds later. Although Clemens looked a bit smug, Naomi and Count made it clear that he wasn't off the hook, glaring at him as he looked their way. He could have gotten Count and Lanza killed, and Naomi couldn't care less about what would have happened to her. Clemens, however indirectly, had hurt her wingmen and by extension he'd made an enemy out of her. He wasn't getting off easy. There wasn't a chance in hell that she was going to let that happen. If it cost her the rank she had, then so be it. Her career didn't matter, but her squadron did.

Clemens looked at Wiseman with a look of warning, as if reminding him to keep them in check, and then began the debriefing without a single word on the matter. "The fleet at Anchorhead was eliminated, and we've prevented the submarine from joining forces. Those unidentified aircraft that caused some trouble during our last operation were shot down too," he said quickly, as if he was in a hurry to leave the room. As if his behavior wasn't suspicious enough as it was. "In spite of a few bumps along the way, and a couple of unexpected turns, the mission was a complete success."

"Yeah, right. Complete success, my ass!" Húxiān snapped at him, her anger still not satisfied, but she stayed where she was instead of trying to hit him again.

"Brigadier General, it sure seemed to me like the bats knew you pretty damn well," Count said, almost challenging him with the way he said it. His face seemed stuck in a scowl, like just about everyone else in the room.

Clemens shot him a look, knowing full well what Count was implying with that comment. It looked as though he was fighting a smirk, maybe thinking that he was going to get away with this. "You seem to be confused, Lieutenant. You took a couple of hits, so you could be suffering from a concussion. Report in for a medical check," Clemens ordered, feigning concern for Count's wellbeing. "We'll decide if you're still fit for service based on the examinations. A psych check is in order as well. Judging from your record, you weren't fit to begin with. There's no wonder you're paranoid and looking for someone else to blame for your missteps."

With the comment, Count sprang up from his seat and Naomi, Wiseman, and Jaeger were quick to follow. He almost managed to reach Clemens as the brigadier general scrambled backwards, almost cowering behind Long Caster. Jaeger and Wiseman caught his arm and Naomi put herself between Count and Clemens, not wanting Count to get in any trouble over this. Count seemed shocked that she tried to stop him, and he didn't try and fight his way past her, allowing Wiseman to yank him back into his seat. Jaeger pushed on his shoulder so that he fell back into his seat, and Jaeger made sure he stayed there while Wiseman raised his voice and ordered, "Cut it, Count!"

"Trigger, sit down," Jaeger ordered Naomi with a curt nod, prepared to drag her into her seat like he'd helped Wiseman do to Count. Naomi reluctantly sat down, and Jaeger took a deep breath. "That's enough of this crap."

Clemens looked to Bandog, who had moved a bit closer so he could be in on the conversation and action. Just about everyone seemed to be holding their breath, and Clemens looked furious and scared, similar to how he'd looked when Húxiān had burst in earlier. "Somebody get the MP!" he ordered quickly, glancing nervously down at Sarge. "Now! Before one of them does something they'll regret."

"He's right. Get the MP." A new, unfamiliar voice filled the room and everyone turned toward the screen. Long Caster stepped away from the computer, and it was only then that they noticed that he'd connected a call to David and another person that Naomi didn't recognize. Two new windows popped up on the screen, showing David on one and a clearly high ranking Osean officer sitting in a very fancy looking office. The Osean flag was in the background, and it looked like an office at Bright Hill or some other building in the capital. The man in question was older, probably in his sixties, in an Osean dress uniform. His hair was gray and his eyes were brown, and he was looking right at Clemens with a very disappointed look on his face.

It was obvious that Clemens recognized the man, and the anger faded from his eyes and his expression. There was nothing but panic there now as he whirled around to face the screen. He seemed at a loss for words for a moment, maybe even close to tears as he stumbled over the right words to say. Almost as if he was looking for a defense or an explanation for his actions. He was in trouble for real, now, and he knew it. At last, he just blurted out the man's name. "Vice Chairman Edwards...of the Joint Chiefs of Staff?!" After that he began trying to keep his cool, but he came across sounding like a fraud and a coward. "I...sir, I'm sorry. I didn't know that we were to be expecting a call from you. If I'd have known then this situation would be under control already. It's just a minor problem...nothing to worry about!"

"Minor?" Edwards echoed with a frown. "This is only part of a much bigger problem." The authority in his voice was scary, so much so that Naomi felt like she was in trouble. She stayed perfectly still, and so did just about everyone else, none of them having expected somebody this important to be directly involved with this. Monitoring things from afar, yes, but not actually calling them. He continued, his voice making it evident that he was less than pleased with the operation's outcome. "The Alicorn slipped into Anchorhead Bay after the mission was completed, using the confusion for cover. It resupplied quickly and escaped unharmed. Their goal was not to join forces. It was to resupply while using the window that we created by chasing away the Erusean forces. We did their bidding, albeit unknowingly. But our problem runs deeper than our lack of tactical acumen. Analyst North, explain for us."

David didn't have to be ordered twice, happily stepping in to shed some light on the subject. "Of the crew caught in the submarine accident, three-hundred and thirty men made it back alive. Of them, three hundred are still on the sub today," he explained quickly, no indication that he was surprised or angry in his voice or expression. "Our intel has led us to believe that all or some of the men that left the sub are now working as agents for the Alicorn. Sabotage, espionage, cyber propaganda, dissemination of false intel..." David began to list things off, counting off his fingers as he did so. Then he stopped and focused on Clemens. "Brigadier General, do you recognize the name Edgar Saxon — or Zul, as he used to go by?"

Clemens didn't answer, but a suddenly guilty look appeared on his face and David took that as his answer while Edwards drew in a deep breath. David went on. "He is a former member of the Alicorn's crew. And your source of intel," he said.

"You are a fool, Brigadier General Clemens," Edwards said, each word sounding as though it was being forced out which got across how angry the man was without him losing his cool. Clemens looked like a child that was being scolded in public, and everyone kept their eyes trained on him. Edwards went on, glancing at Naomi and the others as he did. "Not only that, but the radio communications during the mission suggest that you are a traitor."

Finally, Clemens had a chance to defend himself, but his heart just didn't seem into it. "Sir, if you check with Lieutenant General Shepherd, you'll understand that this is all just a misunderstanding!"

"The Lieutenant General is now under investigation and claims that you were responsible for handling all aspects of the mission," Edwards replied, looking tired of hearing Clemens' excuses. They were very poor ones at that. He waited for Clemens to try and continue defending himself, but even Clemens seemed to realize that he was defeated. Edwards, wanting to put an end to it, repeated his order from earlier. "Now, let me say that again. Get the MP."

Bandog started to move towards Clemens, but Húxiān was already standing up. "No need for that," she declared, walking right over to him. The color drained from his face as he seemed to realize what was about to happen as he turned to face Húxiān. "Piece of shit!" Without even grabbing him to make sure he didn't try and run off, and with no one stopping her this time, Húxiān threw a hard punch and her fist connected with his jaw. There was a very loud, very painful sounding thud and Clemens sank down to the floor. Húxiān backed off and Naomi decided to step in now, wanting her chance to get back at him for screwing them over.

Clemens remained on the floor, rubbing his jaw and groaning in pain. Naomi closed the gap between them and grabbed onto Clemens by his jacked, pulling him onto his feet so they were at the same level. Granted, he was taller than her and basically dead weight, so it wasn't the easiest feat in the world. He let out a surprised gasp as Naomi dragged him to the nearest wall and roughly shoved him against it, his head hitting it as she did so. Perhaps she was going to get in trouble, but if Húxiān got to rough the guy up then Naomi deserved a chance to do it. His lip was split and bleeding and his jawline was visibly red, and now he'd have some more pain to accompany it. She didn't care though. She was going to finish what Húxiān started.

Briefly debating letting him know what she thought about him with words, she figured she should just go ahead and get her anger out. They could talk later. Nobody made a move to stop her, except for Sarge's frustrated barking at being unable to join in on the action. Naomi lifted her knee up and rammed it into Clemens' gut as hard as she could, causing him to double over in pain. May have been a cheap shot but it got him where she wanted him. He tried to recover, looking up at her with his face contorted with pain. It almost looked as if he was about to start crying. Naomi glanced over her shoulder at Count and Húxiān and Lanza, noting how beat up they were and remembering how badly that interaction with the bats could have been. She looked back at Clemens, trying to calm her breathing.

For just a minute, she let him think he was free. She let go of his dress jacket, which was now wrinkled to go along with his rather beat up and disheveled appearance. Just as he cleared his throat and tried to play it cool, Naomi balled her fist as tight as she could and hit him as hard as she possibly could with a furious yell. Already up against the wall, his head hit it again and he cried out in pain as he fell to the floor, bringing a hand up to his face to try and ease the pain that both Naomi and Húxiān had caused him. He was lying there and Naomi wanted to continue her assault. She wanted to just kick him and back him into a corner and let him feel the same terror that she felt during that dogfight, but she couldn't bring herself to do it.

Before she could stop second guessing her decision and just give in to her anger, she felt someone grab her wrist and turned around to see Count standing beside her. Húxiān stood on her other side, still fuming but obviously thinking that the guy had learned his lesson. Naomi took a shaky breath and looked over at Count and then back down at Clemens. Her father and Wiseman were staring at her with shock and maybe even worry on their faces. But as equally angry as Count looked, something about his touch was calming. Sending another disgusted look to Clemens, she relaxed and let out a heavy sigh, allowing Count to drag her back and away from Clemens.

Bandog stepped in, keeping a tight leash on Sarge, and forced Clemens onto his feet, dragging him from the back of his shirt like it was nothing. "C'mon, you worthless bastard. Let's get you out of here before they decide to kill you...funny how I'm the one dragging you off to prison now, isn't it Brigadier General?" In spite of his words, there wasn't any real concern for Clemens and what would happen to him. He nodded to Wiseman and the others and left the room. Bandog was likely going to take him to the brig himself, with Sarge there to make sure he didn't try anything. Naomi noticed that there was something a bit too eager and pleased about the situation in his eyes as he passed them, though.

Naomi looked at her father, finally starting to calm down and feeling embarrassed for getting so aggressive. In a way it seemed pointless, now, but at that moment she just wanted the guy to hurt. And it was starting to scare her. One look at Avril, Tabloid, and just about everyone else told her that she might have taken a step too far. Her entire body was shaking, and she regretted what she'd done the slightest bit, but it had helped her get that anger out. Maybe not in the best way. She looked over at the screen, where Edwards and David were watching on, surprised looks on their faces. David's expression was a bit more thoughtful, but Edwards was better at hiding whatever he was feeling. Outside of the obvious, of course.

"Er...Vice Chairman..." Naomi began nervously, staying beside Count as she spoke. She felt a lot like she had after Yinshi Valley, if not in less pain and a bit more lucid. It seemed Count had picked up on this and didn't stray away from her. She was grateful for that, but she didn't want to seem entirely helpless and took a small step away from him. Edwards was watching her and listening intently, and she found the words to continue, glancing at Wiseman and her dad. "Vice Chairman, I apologize for that. It wasn't very becoming of a military officer, but I hope you can understand where I'm coming from. And, in my defense, it did help restrain him."

Edwards studied her for a moment, then continued with a shrug and an almost disinterested tone. "I've read your file, Captain Foulke. Yes, I know where you and a handful of your squadron mates have been, and yes, I can see where you're coming from," he said quickly. "Under normal circumstances, it doesn't excuse assault on a superior officer. The same for you, Lieutenant Hirose." His eyes flicked towards where Húxiān was standing, just barely in his view. Edwards sighed and continued. "However, given the revelations, Clemens' actions, and the fact that you two were acting on behalf of your squadron...I'm not going to demand that you be reprimanded. I am required to give you a warning, though. Do not make this a common occurrence."

Both Naomi and Húxiān were relieved to hear that, and thanked him. Edwards didn't want to stick around for small talk, though. "I'll be taking my leave, now. Analyst North, this is back in your hands. I'll send any word if something comes up, though," he said to them. And without another word, he hung up, leaving them all in silence for a few minutes.

It was a good five minutes before Tabloid unexpectedly broke the silence. "Well...that happened."

David began to speak next, looking a bit uncertain. "Yeah...that was rather unexpected. Probably one of the most exciting things I've ever done...I feel like I could run a marathon right now!" He chuckled, but no one else quite shared in his enthusiasm. It didn't bother him, though, and he shrugged off their lack of reaction. "But, it's been a long day and I still have a lot of work to get done before it's over. I'm going to look into who those mercenaries were if I have the time. And might I suggest interrogating the brigadier general once you get the chance? It's possible he might not be alone in this, and if what that guy...erm...the guy with the dog? Bandog! If what he said he heard is true, then we might have some more problems in our chain of command that we need to take care of. I'll be in touch!"

"Goodbye, David. Thanks for the help," Wiseman said, and Long Caster ended the call as Wiseman motioned for him to do so. After that, they fell back into a period of silence before Wiseman let out a sigh. Thankfully the awkward moment only lasted a few seconds thanks to him. "Well, I figure that's enough excitement for today. Everybody get some rest now. And as uncaring and foolish as Brigadier General Clemens is, he did present a very good point earlier. I want everyone from Strider Squadron to report to the doctor and let the people over at the infirmary check you out. I'm not gonna bar you from flying, but you're all pretty banged up and you're going to need some time to recover. So go on, now. And that means you too, Trigger."

Naomi gave him a surprised, almost offended look. And she wanted to argue with him, even if she sounded like a child. "I...but I'm not hurt. Count and Húxiān are the ones that got it the worst. And Lanza, too. I'm fine."

It was her father that replied, giving her a soft smile as if he thought it would bring her around. It actually did. "Naomi, humor him. At the very least, maybe they could do something for your nerves."

"C'mon, Trig," Count said with a sigh, finally moving away from her and leading the way to the door. Húxiān followed, and Lanza quickly stood up. Naomi didn't move, though, worried that the doctor would find an excuse to keep her on the ground. Count stopped and looked back at her. "You coming or not."

"I'll...I need a minute to catch my breath. You guys go on ahead," Naomi said, just wanting to sit and think for a bit. She felt like she needed to talk to somebody, and she would have liked to have a minute to speak with Count, but she wasn't going to get it then. She needed a break. "Just go, Count. You three need the doctor more than I do."

"Alright, suit yourself," Count said, going back to being as aloof as he always was. "Don't come crying to me when you pass out or something."

"Oh, by the way, Húxiān," Lanza said as they reached the door. His voice was a mix of upset and teasing. "You owe me a soda."

Húxiān scoffed. "You being serious right now? It isn't my fault that you didn't hold onto it, you freaking klutz!"

Naomi watched them go, and it wasn't long before everyone else started to file out. Wiseman and her father stayed behind to talk with Long Caster, and Jaeger left with Skald, Fencer, and Tailor to go and get dinner. She stared at her hands, fidgeting with them until she felt someone rudely shove her shoulder and looked up to see Avril and Tabloid standing over her. She started to ask them what they needed, but Avril answered the question before she even asked it. "You need a break and you need to talk," Avril said simply, as if able to read her mind. "I've got a lot of work that needs to be done thanks to you idiots and Tabloid is free for the afternoon. You're coming with us and you're going to talk. Now get up."

Tabloid held out his hand, offering to help her up with his usual smile. Naomi cast a look towards her father, Wiseman, and Long Caster, and then accepted Tabloid's help with a sigh. He lifted her up and she walked between him and Avril, leaving the briefing room behind him and setting off for the hangars. She wasn't sure if it would help her, but it would get her away from things for a bit. It didn't make the the problems go away, though, and she'd just have to deal with them later.

But she was grateful for the distraction. She sighed, thinking to herself, Might as well take the break while you can...

1907hrs.

"So, you want to talk about what happened, or are you just going to sit there?"

Avril's voice rang out in the hangar, echoing slightly since she'd raised her voice to speak over the sound of her working. Naomi sat on a box she'd moved closer to the hangar doors so she could watch the sun set, while Tabloid paced nearby. They'd sat without talking for a while once they'd gotten to the hangar, and Naomi was mostly trying to settle down after the day she'd had. Although Tabloid seemed more willing to let her sit and work things out silently, Avril seemed convinced that talking it out was going to fix it faster and pestered her about it at least every five minutes. Part of Naomi wished that she'd just focus on her work, but she knew she probably should get the conversation over with sooner, rather than later.

Naomi reached for her water bottle and took a couple of sips, keeping her eyes on the sky and debating what she was going to say. "I lost it, alright?" she finally said in a more irritated way than she would have liked. "I'm stressed and I'm tired of people screwing me over. Clemens was a traitor and he got what was coming to him. What if Count or Lanza had died today because of those two maniacs that Clemens seems to have been buddies with, huh? I'm not going to let them get hurt and not do something about that. I was only finishing what Húxiān started, and I had more of a reason to beat the shit out of him than she did. What would you have done in my shoes, huh?"

She turned slightly so that she could see the expressions on their faces, and saw that Tabloid had stopped pacing. Avril had stopped what she was doing as well, looking between the two of them with a blank expression, then wordlessly returned to her work. Tabloid let out a sigh. "We're not mad at you, Trigger," he said to her, a somewhat awkward look on his face. It was a mix of concern and uncertainty, as if he didn't know what to say to her. "I can get what your saying, but there's gotta be more of a reason behind your reaction, Trigger. You need to get stuff off of your chest in a better way than blowing things up and...and punching traitors in the face. So, why don't you try working it out with your friends for a change?"

"All of my wingmen could have died today, and it would have been on my watch and it would have been mostly Clemens' fault," Naomi admitted, but she didn't know quite where to go from there. Trying to keep her voice steady, she continued. "I've had too many people around me die when I could have stopped it, and now that I have command of a squadron that responsibility is just that much heavier." She paused, recalling the sound Scream had made when Naomi had shot her brother down. To lose someone that close to you, who was not only your wingman but your family as well? She considered Count, and Tabloid, and Avril, and even Wiseman and everyone else in the LRSSG to be like another family. If she had lost someone today...if she'd lost Count today...Naomi took a deep breath, trying not to think about it. "I came too close to losing Count in that dogfight and it was because of Clemens. I wanted him to feel as scared and helpless as I did. I...I wanted him to suffer. It's a horrible thing, but that's what it was."

Tabloid sat down beside her with a sigh, putting a hand on her back in a reassuring way. "The important thing is that Clemens got caught. Our suspicions were right and now the bastard's going to get locked up," he said to her. "What's also important is that Count is fine. The jerk's too stubborn to die, anyways. Even if you hadn't been there, he'd be fine. He'd have just annoyed those guys into submission." Tabloid tried for a laugh in an attempt to cheer her up, and Naomi did manage a small smile but her mood didn't have much of a change. He went on, still smiling, but more serious. "You've got to stop worrying, Trigger. After what you've been accused of, and where you've been, if you keep losing your temper on your allies then you're going to end up worse than you are now."

"Y'know, Tabloid, it's not like these guys make it any easier on us," Avril put in, using a harsher tone than usual. The two of them looked over at her curiously and she stopped what she was doing, wiping some grease off of her hands. "I mean, they expect us to just throw our issues aside and forget about them? And then, after everything that happened with McKinsey, we're supposed to blindly trust and follow authority? If you ask me, Clemens got off easy. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if Clemens and McKinsey were old friends. He's obviously gotta past with Bandog, so it's not a ridiculous thought...and it would explain a lot when you think about it."

Naomi and Tabloid just looked at each other, neither one entirely unconvinced of Avril's argument. Naomi knew it was probably harder on her, even though she was more indirectly affected by McKinsey. She wasn't a pilot, perhaps solely due to her injury, but ever since they'd gotten here she'd had a bit of a chip on her shoulder. Naomi knew she was getting better, but having another conspiracy and a traitor like Clemens right under their noses probably set her back a bit. It did for Naomi, but she knew that Wiseman had been suspicious. Their commander and Naomi's father were there and had everyone's best interest in mind, but there were others that they were right to question.

"We've got to move past that sooner or later, and quit with the same arguments and excuses over and over," Naomi eventually said with another sigh, turning back around and resting her head on one hand as she returned her focus to the setting sun. "Tabloid's right. I should have reined it in, like Húxiān had done." The guilt she felt for losing her temper was mostly because of how worried and...almost afraid her father seemed when he'd looked at her. She didn't feel bad for Clemens that much. He had it coming. "At least now maybe people might think twice about screwing with my squadron."

"Something tells me that they already think twice, Trigger," Tabloid said, sounding almost amused. He stood up, starting his pacing again. "From the looks of things these last few battles and with that run in with those bats, I'd say you're getting quite the reputation. Even outside of our own forces."

"Yeah...maybe you're right..." Naomi smiled, but her thoughts didn't leave the battle earlier that day. And if they did, it wasn't for long.

Tabloid eventually gave Avril a hand, and Naomi debated getting up and helping as well, just to be able to put her mind to something else. But once she'd made the decision and stood up, intending to walk over and join them, she heard the sound of barking and claws clicking on concrete. Naomi, Tabloid, and Avril all turned towards the hangar door, the sun almost completely gone and the surrounding area holding a dark blue tint to it. A couple of figures were making their way to the hangar, Sarge leading the way. Bandog's muffled voice called out to her, but Sarge ignored him and came bounding over to Naomi anyways, skidding to a halt and sitting at her feet. Naomi chuckled as Sarge pawed at her boots, looking up at Naomi expectantly, whining slightly when she didn't get attention immediately.

Reaching down, Naomi scratched Sarge on her forehead and Sarge responded by tilting her head back and pinning her ears slightly. Her tail wagged back and forth on the ground and somehow the dog's joy in being pet managed to cheer Naomi up more than her conversation with Avril and Tabloid had done. She really did appreciate their willingness to talk it out with her, but sometimes there were easier ways to get your mind off of something and make yourself happy. As it turned out, dogs were great at lifting spirits. Sarge pricked her ears and turned her head away from Naomi, looking over her shoulder as Bandog, Húxiān, Count, and Lanza all entered the hangar. Bandog looked as though he was torn between fondness and exasperation as he snapped, "Sarge! Get over here, you nutcase. Quit just running off like that."

Sarge let out a playful bark and spun herself around, launching herself forward and practically hopping over to Bandog. He leaned over to pet her, but all she did was give his hands a quick sniff, nip at the edge of his sleeve, and go sprinting off around the hangar. She stopped once or twice and barked, waiting for someone to play chase or throw a ball for her, but aside from some laughter and smiles from everyone except for Count (who just rolled his eyes with a smirk) she didn't get anyone to join in on her game. With a frustrated half-bark, half-whine, she took off running again and settled for trying to attack her tail every now and then. Naomi found it difficult to believe that this was the same kind of dog that could break someone's arm if they really wanted. She also found it hard to believe that this same dog had looked ready to do just that to Clemens only an hour ago.

Naomi was quick to turn her attention to her wingmen, though, no longer worrying about the dog. In spite of some noticeable scrapes and bruises, everyone looked alright. Húxiān had a small bandage taped at the corner of her brow, where the worst of her injuries had been, and everyone looked a little ruffled still, Húxiān a bit more than the others, but everything looked okay. She walked over to them, placing a hand on Húxiān's shoulder as she stood between her and Count. Trying for a smile, she asked, "So, are you three going to be able to fly or is the doctor going to mother hen you like he did Fencer?"

"Nah, he gave everyone a clean bill of health," Húxiān replied with a smile of her own. She picked at the edge of her band-aid, looking as though it was causing some discomfort, and sighed. "Unfortunately, he still insisted I wear this for a couple of days. 'It'll keep it from getting infected and will speed along the healing process' he said. Pfft. I've gotten worse scratches than this. I think I could deal with a couple of days of looking like I did a face-plant on a wrench..."

"It was a little worse than that, Húxiān. Quit the tough act," Lanza said, taking a sip from a fresh bottle of cola. Naomi guessed that Húxiān finally gave in and reimbursed him on his drink, since he was looking rather content and smug whereas she frowned at him and rolled her eyes.

Count looked Naomi up and down as she stepped away from Húxiān. "Everyone's been checked out and given the all clear except for you, Trigger," he said, sounding concerned once again. Naomi looked at him, noting that he didn't look as banged up as everyone else, but she still didn't want to go see the doctor. Too much had happened that day already, last thing she wanted was someone poking and prodding her. Count, almost as if reading her mind, gave an exasperated sigh. "Really? Now you choose to be stubborn? Heh. Who knew that the great Three Strikes was scared of doctors."

"I'm not scared," Naomi said, trying not to sound annoyed. That's what he was trying to do, but everyone's ridiculous insistence on her seeing a doctor was getting on her last nerve. She was fine physically, so there wasn't a good reason to go. She dismissed the idea before Count or anyone else could continue to bother her. "What was important was making sure all of you were alright. I'll go tomorrow, so would everyone please stop breathing down my neck about it?" Lanza and Húxiān didn't argue with her, but Count huffed and kept whatever he wanted to say to himself. Satisfied with that, Naomi nodded and took a deep breath, figuring she should try something productive. "So, now that everything with Clemens turned out to be true and it's out in the open...I'm open to suggestions for where to go from here. I need something to give to Wiseman, since he'll probably expect me to have some input. So what do we do with him?"

Without waiting around to see if anyone else had an idea, Bandog immediately replied, "Interrogate him."

"Interrogate?" Lanza repeated, tapping his index finger thoughtfully on his soda bottle, making a faint clinking sound. "I thought we knew everything about it. What more could we possibly get from him?"

Bandog crossed his arms. "He wasn't working alone." He seemed confident with his answer, as though he was entirely convinced that he was right. And he was happy to prove it. "I know this guy. I was under his command for almost two years before I was finally rid of him. Or...so I thought, anyways. He's not as clever as you'd think, and he's too boastful to be doing this on his own. Think of him like McKinsey, but...dumber and slightly more loyal. By loyal, I don't mean it in an admirable way, either. Loyal as in 'become a doormat to anyone higher in rank than him'. It was pathetic to watch, believe me, but if he's in something like this then he's not in it alone. He wouldn't have made it this far without someone backing him."

"Hang on. That Lieutenant General that he mentioned...could he be in on this? They're investigating him according to the Vice Chairman, which means something must have caused suspicion," Húxiān suggested, and Naomi nodded in agreement. "I mean, it would make sense."

"Osea's government is more messed up than I thought," Tabloid put in, him and Avril having come over to join the discussion. "I knew we had an issue with pompous generals and the occasional corrupt asshole. I mean, that much is to be expected." He sighed, glancing at Avril. "I hate to admit it, but you might be onto something with what you said earlier, Avril. I don't think there's a man or woman in charge nowadays that isn't corrupt. I guess if you let enough power go to your head, you really do start thinking you're above it all."

"Well, we've already established that," Avril replied, but she didn't look happy that he agreed with her. She shook her head, placing her hands on her hips. "Still, it's a real shame. I grew up around a lot of great guys that used to be in the air force. They were like family to me, and trust me, if they were still around and running things today, we wouldn't have these issues. Ever since the last war, I think our leaders have taken a turn for the worse. I mean, look around. I'm not even military and I have to put up with this bullshit. That's how bad things have gotten. How much more of this are we all going to take before somebody makes a permanent fix? If that general is in on it, then that's just one more guy out of the way. Why bother with it anymore if we're barely even making a dent."

"Because at least it will get their attention," Lanza said, sipping on his cola. "Even if it doesn't accomplish much, it at least sends a statement."

"Figured that you would have learned that after everything that happened with McKinsey," Bandog said, looking in her direction. She glared at him, but he didn't seem to care. He shrugged. "I say we go for the interrogation. Talk to Wiseman about it."

The others nodded in agreement, save for Avril, but it took Naomi a bit longer to think of what to do. She looked over at Count, then to Húxiān, then to Lanza, and back at Count. Finally, she took a deep breath and looked to Bandog. "I'll talk to Wiseman about letting us see the guy before he gets shipped off, but I have a different approach I want to take with this," she said, and they all gave her a curious look. Giving them a tired smile, she told them, "You'll find out tomorrow. For now, I want to get some food. And some sleep...what say we all head to the mess hall and grab dinner?"

Everyone agreed to that without any argument, and the group (including Sarge) all set off. Naomi wanted to speak to Clemens herself, and that was the 'different' approach she wanted to take. The only problem was that Wiseman probably wouldn't want her anywhere near the guy after what happened. But she wanted to speak with him. To get her opinion on him out in the open and get him to crack, to tell them just who was helping him and why they'd done it in the first place. The realization that, even after they had all this evidence that she didn't kill Harling, her own country was still going to find a reason to turn its back on her and on any of the pilots that had been in the penal unit was starting to set in. And she wanted some reassurance that that wasn't going to be the case. And yet, maybe it was.

Erusean Air Base, Near Expo City.
2201hrs.

The lights flickered on in the now empty hangar and former colonel McKinsey stood in the doorway with a blank expression, staring into the structure that housed the Mimic Squadron's aircraft only a few hours before. And now here it was, empty, with the only evidence that the hangar had been used being the equipment and parts strewn across and several scuff marks on the floor. It had been worn down from use by not just the two siblings, but by other squadrons before them. Now the hangar would get used for other squadrons. People deserted every day. Their little base of screw-ups would be overcrowded before long, so the extra space was just what they needed.

McKinsey shook his head and crossed his arms as he looked around the building. He wasn't exactly thrilled about the twins' death. It wasn't that he cared much about them, in fact they meant less to him then the prisoners he had to look after at Zapland. What bothered him was that it was money down the drain. They'd been given a job to do and they were supposed to be among the best pilots for the job, and yet they got themselves shot down. And the worst part about it was that they didn't even take Trigger with them when they went. In fact, they couldn't even shoot down Count. McKinsey clenched his fist. Leave it to those stupid convicts to continue getting in his way, even after they were pardoned.

And from what he'd heard, Count had finally started to grow a spine. Instead of running from a fight, he actually helped Trigger? Well, that was the rumor anyways. According to what that Scream girl had mentioned about their fight over Artiglio. Still, he was weak. He was easy prey. And yet he survived. That meant that McKinsey was back to square one, and the only person around to blame was himself and that Clemens guy. That didn't mean that he was excusing the siblings' failure. That was still on them. No, his only mistake had been getting in on this plan to begin with. Now he had to find another plan, or just continue hiding and hoping that Osea or the conservatives in Erusea didn't discover their little base and wipe them out.

His thoughts were interrupted as he felt his smartphone vibrate in his jacket pocket. Startled by the sudden, unexpected call, he unzipped his pocket and pulled his phone out, studying the ID displayed on the screen. Due to where he was and the people he was around, McKinsey had been very careful about naming the contacts he put into this phone. It was his 'work phone' that he'd brought with him to avoid people getting curious about any calls he received if he was out of his office. His loyalty was shaky at best with both countries, and he didn't trust the Eruseans as far as he could throw them. Only problem was that they were the ones willing to pay the most and he was stuck with them unless he found a way to worm his way back into Osea's trust. It was unlikely, but he couldn't erase the possibility.

But every single person he'd trusted enough to give this number were only his fellow Oseans and Eruseans that he believed he could trust. There weren't many. He had two Erusean commanders, another penal unit commander he'd been familiar with, then there was Clemens, and then as a precaution Clemens had sent the number to the lieutenant general that was in on their ploy to kill Trigger. Shepherd had just been named Shepherd in his contacts, to avoid raising too much suspicion. Everyone else got a rank or affiliation to go along with it, but Shepherd wasn't that special. But it was still quite a shock to see that name pop up on his phone, especially when Clemens had been the one in contact with Shepherd. There wasn't a reason that McKinsey was aware of for this call.

He answered the call, bringing the phone up to his ear with some hesitation. "This is Colonel D. McKinsey," he introduced himself as quickly and confidently as always. Figuring he might as well go on, he said, "I can't say that I was expecting a call from you, Lieutenant General. I assumed that the brigadier general would be contacting me, unless you wish to discuss the failure of the operation, sir."

The voice that answered belonged to an older man, more gravelly than McKinsey was expecting but still smoother than his own voice. He sounded tired and worried as he answered, but it was clear that he was rather annoyed with McKinsey. "We were trying to prove that we didn't need Three Strikes, but Osea's operation and the LRSSG's success was mostly credited to Captain Foulke and her squadron. We were making a decision, and the decision was ultimately that Three Strikes would benefit Osea. While I disagree, it wasn't up to me. Just like sending those two mercenaries after the brigadier general said to hold them back was not up to you," he said to him. "And thanks to you, my plan to out Foulke for what she really is has come to a halt. She's a murderer and a flight risk. Just like you. And now our military can continue using her as a crutch, all while I'm going to be under investigation well into the foreseeable future. So congratulations, 'Colonel' McKinsey. You've proven to be even more useless than before."

McKinsey scowled, not liking that some old man that he barely knew was making a comment like that. "I made a call that you and Clemens were too scared to make," he argued. "Don't forget that without me, you wouldn't have had your precious mercenaries to begin with. I was the one that pulled them out of the death sentence you bigshots sent them to on Tyler Island, all because you were worried that a couple of Belkan kids would be a threat because they weren't afraid to make the tough calls. They followed orders, even if it was only for the money. I did what had to be done."

"Don't act as if you saved them from that unit. They were exactly what you hated the most. Prisoners. What's worse, they were prisoners that treated you exactly how you treated them from what I've heard," Shepherd replied smugly, as if he knew exactly what to say against McKinsey. Clemens must have told him about everything. Just what he needed. Shepherd continued. "But instead of getting angry about that, I've decided to warn you of something. Brigadier General Clemens has been taken into custody. Apparently some analyst looked into what he's been doing and thanks to you sending in the siblings, Clemens outed himself while trying to call them off. He was assaulted by Three Strikes and the other female pilot in their unit before being dragged off."

"Well, that's his and your problem, not mine" McKinsey said. "They don't know I'm involved."

"But it probably won't be long before they do. When they find out about your involvement and your location, they'll probably inform someone and the Oseans will call for an airstrike," Shepherd said. "I may not like you, and I may think that you deserve a far more painful end then that, but I figure I should give you a chance to either say your prayers or run like a coward. The decision is yours to make." McKinsey didn't answer him, growling slightly at that. Shepherd interrupted him when he finally went to say something. "Oh, and one other thing. Is there any chance that either of the siblings could have survived being shot down?"

He frowned. "No." It was a simple, straightforward answer and one that he said in complete confidence. There wasn't any way they could have survived. Not after what he'd done. "I did the same thing I'd done when we had trouble back at Zapland. I disabled the ejection seat behind their back, making it so they'd go down with their planes. Or, at least, I did it to one of their planes. I'm not sure if it was the brother or the sister's, though. Either way, once Trigger decides to kill someone they aren't going to survive. Harling being a prime example."

Shepherd didn't seem convinced. "Well, I heard someone mention that our forces are moving through Anchorhead and are going through any wreckage for survivors to take as POWs until the war is over. Someone made mention that the two planes that Foulke shot down went in very different directions. We're still searching, but allegedly one managed to bail out. The other one crash supposedly landed. Like I said, our forces are still looking into it and it's highly unlikely, but you might want to start watching your back."

"There's no way they survived, sir," McKinsey insisted. "I'd bet my life on it."

"Well, that may be exactly what you're doing," Shepherd huffed. "You've taken a risky gamble, one that'll probably come back around to bite you in the ass. As usual. And if this ends badly for you, you can't lay the blame on anyone else. I warned you. And Clemens, however stupid he is, tried to make sure things went smoothly. Even for you. The failure is both your faults, but if you die then it'll be your own."

"At least I won't rot away in prison," McKinsey snapped at him, finding it harder to control his temper. "We'll see who's laughing once you're below people like me. Throw people under the bus a lot, and people tend to turn on you. Believe me, I'd know it first hand."

"If you want to burn in hell, far be it from me to stop you. I've heard there's a special place down there reserved for cowards and traitors like you," Shepherd snapped at him. "I've given you a fair warning. We're done here."

The call abruptly came to an end, and McKinsey couldn't help but find himself furious at the nerve that Shepherd had. McKinsey weighed his options, though, debating whether or not he should heed the warning. He saw no reason, to. It was probably time he left this base, but again, there was no proof that Osea would attack them. No, he had other things to do. McKinsey thought about it a moment longer, then turned the lights out in the hangar, pressing the button to close the doors on his way out. They creaked and groaned as they slid closed behind him, while he headed for his quarters.

He may not have seen a good reason to run right away, but there was no reason he couldn't be prepared for it anyways. One day he'd get back at Trigger and Bandog and the rest of the remnants of Spare Squadron. But for now, he needed to worry about himself. Perhaps Shepherd wasn't so wrong after all. He needed to look out for number one. Just like he'd always done.