November 23rd, 2019

The whole affair with the J-20s was covered up. Aside from the LRSSG (And Colonel Grimm by association), only the OIA knew what had transpired. Officially, the world was still at peace, and the J-20 was still only a concept on paper. After two and a half days of nonstop probing, Cyclops and Strider Squadrons were free to roam the base, after a brief meeting with their new Base Commander.

Cyclops and Strider were sitting around the crew room in their Class "B" Uniforms (Dress pants or skirt, short-sleeved dress shirt, with brass rank insignia, name-tags, and any decorations the soldier/sailor/airman/marine might have), talking amongst themselves when a harried-looking Captain entered the room. "ATTEN-HUT! Ladies and gentlemen, General Wolfgang Buchner!"

General Wolfgang "Pops" Buchner was, at first glance, an unintimidating looking man: Average height, with balding salt-and-pepper hair and beard. Looks, of course, are deceiving. Pops was a Belkan Ace, formerly known as "Huckebein the Raven" during the 1995 Belkan War, before going AWOL and being taken in by Senator Bartlett. Not much else was known about him, other than the fact that he was a mechanic and Combat Flight Instructor during the 2010 Circum-Pacific War. Everything else was Classified until the Summer of 2011.

"Be seated," Pops said. Once all pilots were seated, he continued. "I am Major General Wolfgang Buchner. Some people call me 'Pops.' You can call me 'General.' I understand you're here because you were given your choice of duty for your role in ending the Lighthouse War. I'm glad you chose to come here, because I need pilots I can trust with my new training program."

"Training program, Sir?" Briggs barely extended his hand above his head. "Is the BFM Program being moved from Heierlark?"

"You're Briggs, right?"

"Yes, sir."

"See me later. No, the BFM Program is not moving from Heierlark. Colonel Winters is still responsible for that. You eight, however, are to be part of the new Advanced Fighter Tactics Program. You will serve as Aggressors for training purposes, teaching the top one percent of all pilots in the Osean Air Force, Navy, and Marines everything you know. The program will begin after the First of the New Year. In that time, your planes are going to be upgraded to the new F-15EX crafts. Don't embarrass me now. Dismissed. Briggs! My office, ten minutes."

It took five minutes to get from the crew room to Pops's office, so Briggs took his time, and when he arrived, he could hear Pops yelling at someone about something, but the office door was so thick that he couldn't make it out. With a sigh, he knocked on the door.

"Come in!"

Briggs entered the office, and after closing the door, said, "Major Jason Briggs, reporting as ordered."

"Have a seat, Major," Pops replied without looking up. "I've been reading your file. Top of your class at the Academy and Heierlark. You could have been assigned anywhere, and somehow, you ended up at Fort Grays."

"Well, sir," Briggs replied, "If you'd read another couple of pages, you'd see that it was a disciplinary assignment."

"Beg pardon?"

"My last week at Heierlark, I got caught fooling around with a General's daughter. He decided that, instead of me getting to go to Sand Island or McNealy, I was to be sent halfway around the world. And you've probably read how that worked out, General."

Pops nodded. "I have. Your time at Zapland made you a legend. 'Stick with Trigger and you'll make it,' right? You're a goddamn hero."

"Something like that, General. I wasn't doing any of that for fame or glory. I was trying to stay alive, and people followed me."

"Well, regardless, even after the Harling Incident-"

"I didn't kill him. I was proven innocent at a legitimate Court Martial."

"The entire word knows that, son. What I want to know is, do you consider yourself a hero?"

"No, sir. Ninety-nine times out of a hundred, a hero is someone who's tired enough and cold enough and hungry enough not to give a damn. I don't give a damn."

"Well said, Major. And call me 'Pops.' I think you've earned it."

"Thank you, Sir."

"One last thing. Your entire team is on stand-down until the First of the year while we outfit your new planes. That is all. You can tell me about the J-20s some other time."

Briggs rose from his chair and walked to the door. On his way out, he said to Pops, "Neither of us has the clearance to talk about the J-20, Pops."

"OUT!"

Avril was sitting in the crew room with the rest of the LRSSG, watching quite possibly the worst movie any of them had ever seen.

"What is this?" Jaeger asked Fencer.

"I don't fucking know," Fencer replied. "Wait. Did that chick just go all the way with a fish?"

Jaeger snorted. "Definitely not something I'd tell my son about."

It was at that point that Briggs walked in, looked at the TV, shuddered, grabbed the remote, and, much to the delight of everybody, he turned the movie off.

"Alright, so we have the rest of the year off while they're outfitting our new planes."

There was a collective cheer from the pilots, who, after so long at war, finally got a chance to wind down and relax, and enjoy civilization again.

"So, what you're trying to tell us is-" Lanza started, but was quickly cut off.

"Go out, explore the town, call your families," Briggs ordered. "In other words, have fun."

The room began to empty, with Fencer and Lanza leading the way, and Count and Huxian bringing up the rear. Avril stayed in her seat, looking out a window. When she turned to look at him, Briggs could see a faint smile still gracing her features. She only stood up when the room was empty, and approached Briggs, wrapping her arms around him in a tight embrace. Briggs returned the hug, sighing with content. Avril could feel the steady beat of his heart as he held her. He grabbed her hand and they walked out into the fresh air. They walked for about ten minutes, passing two Captains, both of whom seemed to walk faster when they saw Briggs coming.

"Captain Reynolds, Captain Miller," Briggs acknowledged.

"Major Briggs," Reynolds, the shorter of the two, replied.

Briggs stopped and turned around before addressing the pair again. "Reynolds. Miller. You salute the rank, not the man."

The Captains seemed reluctant as they offered their salutes, which Briggs returned snappily before adding, "Carry on, gentlemen."

Briggs and Avril resumed their walk, and after a few minutes, Avril asked, "So what was that about?"

Briggs chuckled. "Reynolds and Miller. Also known as Clown and Knocker, respectively. Clown was my first wing-man, and Knocker was our flight lead. Fuckers both also turned rat and threw me under the bus when I was put on trial for the Thing."

"The Thing?"

"You know the Thing. It brought us together. So I'm kinda grateful for it."

"I am too. So where are we walking to anyway?"

Briggs stopped in front of a tarp, which looked to be covering a car. "We're here." He pulled the tarp off, revealing a...

"1969 GTO Judge!" Avril exclaimed. "Where did you get this?"

"Family heirloom," Briggs replied. "Grandpa on Mom's side restored this himself and passed it on to me when I turned 16. I had one of my buddies that's stationed here stash it when I knew we were coming. You wanna go for a drive?"

"Hell yeah!"

They got in the car, which looked shockingly modernized. Briggs smiled and cranked the ignition. With the engine running, he connected his phone and music started playing.

Hurry, I'm fallin'
And all I need is you
Come please, I'm callin'
And, oh, I scream for you
Hurry, I'm fallin', I'm fallin', I'm fallin'

Show me what it's like
To be the last one standing
And teach me wrong from right
And I'll show you what I can be
And say it for me, say it to me
And I'll leave this life behind me
Say it if it's worth saving me, hurry, I'm fallin'

Say it for me, say it to me
And I'll leave this life behind me
Say it if it's worth saving me

"Nickelback?" Avril asked. "Really?"

"They're great," Briggs replied, putting the car in gear and hitting the accelerator. "Don't deny it."

And there's another chapter! That's three in less than a month. Hot damn, I'm on a roll! You know the drill. Review, etc. Happy Independence Day to my fellow American readers, and to my British readers, it's only Treason if you lose.