Thank you for all the fabs, follows, and reviews. VERY MUCH APPRECIATED! I love reading reviews, they're the best. Anyways, here's an update. hope you enjoy it, and if you do remember to r, f, and f!
Chapter Four-
"You need to learn how to fly any type of aircraft well enough so that if your pilot gets shot in the head, you can still get your arse back here," Percival declared. He tossed Harry a helmet, which he deftly caught. "Put that on and get ready for lift-off."
"Sir, I don't think I know how to fly this thing," Harry said, glancing at the panel of complicated looking controls.
"Well, we'll never know if you don't try, yes?" Percival jumped out of the sleek black helicopter.
"Wait, why aren't you coming with me?" Harry asked, a tad anxious.
"Well, if you crash, I don't want to crash with you." Harry opened his mouth to argue, but Percival silenced him with a sharp look. "Figure it out, soldier. I'll be up in a different craft, so even if you do crash, you probably won't die. Nothing to worry about."
"Nothing to worry about," Harry repeated. "Right."
"Well?" Percival asked impatiently. He put on an earpiece, sliding the helicopter door shut. Harry spoke into the helmet's built-in mouthpiece.
"Do you copy?"
"Loud and clear." Percival winked and gave him a thumbs up, before running to a small fighter jet idling beside the copter. He seated himself. Harry bit his lip, glancing again at all the controls. The screen of his helmet's visor lit up, displaying scrolls of information- altitude, speed, wind direction… in the bottom left hand corner, there was a map with two dots- red and green. "I suggest you open the throttle first, Harry."
"Right." He heard the blades beginning to spin above him. "Uh…" Harry glanced around, trying to remember what he knew about helicopters. Something about a collective control… He turned his view to a lever beside his seat, and the visor of his helmet zoomed into it. Collective Control it labeled in red. "Aha," Harry muttered, pushing it forward. The helicopter rose unsteadily. Harry pushed it back down, and the helicopter landed. He grinned. "Cool." He dug through his brain, thinking. There was a joystick in front of him, between his legs. He tilted it side to side, imagining that the rotors were mirroring the same motion. His visor beeped. Proper Operating RPM Reached. "Okay." Harry pushed the the collective control forward again, feeling the craft lift off the ground. He nudged it forward with the joystick. The helicopter shot forward, missing the wing of a plane by mere inches.
"The pedals, Harry! The pedals!" Percival yelled in his ear. Harry desperately slammed his feet down on the pedals, and out of sheer luck, managed to steady the helicopter. He gasped for breath. "Well?" Percival asked a few seconds later. "Try it again! If I had a machine gun, you'd be long dead."
"I almost died just now!" Harry exploded.
"Oh, boohoo, I've almost died about fifty-six times in the last year, cupcake." Harry glared at the control board. "Now get a move on." Harry growled under his breath, slamming the collective control forward. He swore under his breath, tilting the joystick. Seething, he pedaled. Only twenty minutes later, while he was cruising five thousand feet above the ground, did he realize he was, in fact, cruising at five thousand feet above the ground.
Harry gazed out of the window in amazement. He felt his face break into an enormous grin. He glanced at the joystick curiously, before yanking it harshly to the right. He let out a whoop as it did a 360 degree flip, before he adjusted it again, righting the helicopter.
"Harry! Do you read me?"
"Yes, Percy," Harry responded.
"Don't get cheeky with me, boy. Congratulations, I suppose. It's always quite astonishing how motivated one becomes when angry," Percival noted.
"Hm," Harry grumbled. "Well, can I land yet?"
"You do realize you're the green point on the map and your target is the red dot, right?"
"What?" Harry exclaimed, jumping. The helicopter dipped dangerously forward. Harry glanced at the map that he had noticed earlier in the bottom left hand corner of his visor. "Shit," he groaned. He had long passed the blinking red dot. He turned the copter around, nudging it forward until it was streaking across the sky. Eight minutes and twelve seconds later, he began to decrease altitude. The red dot began flashing brightly. Suddenly, the helicopter tipped to the right violently, accompanied by a loud bang. An ear-piercing beeping sounded in Harry's ear. "What the fuck?" he exclaimed. Tail Rotor Hit scrolled across Harry's view.
"Better get a move on!" Percival yelled over top of the noise.
"What's going on?" Harry yelled back. Silence. He cursed, shoving the joystick to the left. Just in time. He watched as a small missile hurtle past the window. "Evasive action, evasive action," he muttered under his breath. He focused, trying to recall what he knew. "Find out where the missiles are being fired from," he muttered to himself, leaning to look out the window. Sweeping grasslands, green turning golden. Harry couldn't see any sign of a missile launcher, until another one was fired. He grimaced as he dodged it clumsily, easing the chopper forward unsteadily. The broken tail was throwing the chopper's balance off significantly.
Finally, finally, he caught a brief flash of silver to his right. But was he supposed to go towards it or away from it? The map in his visor answered his question. The blinking red dot was exactly where the flash of silver had been. He took a deep breath, and advanced forward. A moment later, he was in clear view. Another missile fired, heading straight for Harry. He pulled the collective control lever up, but the chopper didn't budge. He swore loudly, yanking it harder. A slight lift. The missile collided with the landing skids, causing the craft to tumble backward. It swerved violently. Harry clenched his teeth. The helicopter was rapidly losing altitude. Harry could smell the fiery smoke coming from the damage. He swore again. There was no way he could land without getting hit again. If only I could fire back… he thought. He blinked, and would've smacked himself in the face if he hadn't been desperately grasping both levers. His eyes ran over the controls. "Argh!" he exclaimed angrily. There were far too many. "Where's that goddamn missile button?" he yelled. Suddenly, his visor zeroed in on a small joystick with a red button on it. Missile Launcher scrolled across his vision. He let out a short sigh of relief. Voice control, fancy that.
He let go of both levers- after all, they were basically completely inoperable and therefore useless by now. He reached over, carefully adjusting the joystick until he locked on his target. He pushed the button with his thumb, crossing his fingers. The ground was quickly approaching. Stall bleeped red across his visor. A humongous explosion suddenly rocketed from below him. His target had been destroyed, and by some unknown greater force, the helicopter was near perfectly leveled from the aftershock of the missile launching. Harry gently eased the craft down, attempting to land it without the landing skids intact. He failed miserably, causing the helicopter to fall flat on its side. The side window shattered on impact, showering large bits of broken glass onto Harry. He hurried to undo his seatbelt and then promptly sprinted away from the wreckage.
"Harry, stop running," Percival yelled in his ear.
"For the love of…" Harry struggled to not scream in rage. "Where the bloody hell have you been?"
"Watching you the entire time. I suppose you technically passed, but that was quite literally a disaster." Harry glanced at the flaming wreckage of the helicopter.
"Well, on the bright side," Percival continued. "You aren't dead." Percival frowned. "On the not so bright side, two things- Arthur is going to kill you, and also, you have another six other aircraft to fly."
"You're pissing me, right?" Harry groaned.
"Unfortunately, no." Percival began walking briskly, beckoning Harry to follow him. "Come on then, hurry up. We have to check on her."
"Who?" Harry asked. "Who's her?" Percival remained silent until they reached the smoking wreckage of the lone missile launcher. Sitting cross-legged, a few meters away, was a familiar looking girl with jet black waist length hair, which was tied up in a high ponytail. She looked up, eyes narrowing.
"Oh," she said as they approached. "It's you."
"I never did get your name," Harry said, smirking. He held out a hand. She glared murderously at him, shaking grudgingly. She glanced at Percival, who was watching the exchange with an amused expression.
"Winter."
"Winter?" Harry smiled. "That's a beautiful name."
"I hate it," she said simply. Harry shrugged.
"I don't," he replied. She gazed at him curiously, silent for a few moments. She looked suddenly vulnerable and delicate.
"Thanks, I guess," she murmured hesitantly, eyes searching his thoughtfully.
"Right then," Percival interrupted, clapping his hands together. "Winter, get the next round of ammunition ready. Nice aim."
"Wait, you were firing at me?" Harry exclaimed.
"Well, duh," Winter retorted. Her earlier unconfidence suddenly disappeared, as if she had flicked a switch off. She smirked and turned away. Harry watched her leave, slightly perplexed. She seemed like a snob, and was certainly rude, but something about her insecurity towards her name confused Harry. He was curious to learn more about her, to get to know her better.
"She's had a… difficult time adjusting. Don't mind her," Percival reassured him. Harry gazed after her for another moment before turning to Percival.
"In what sense?"
"Severely abused by her four older brothers, both physically and verbally, shunned by her parents. Scarred for life, the poor girl. But don't mention that to her," Percival added hastily. "Doesn't want anybody's sympathy. Incredible tactical genius, she is. Highly skilled in hand-to-hand combat." Percival stroked his chin thoughtfully. "Actually, I think it'd be extremely beneficial for you to do some training with her, now that I think about it."
"I'd like to get to know her better," Harry admitted. The two men stood silently, both deep in thought. Finally, Percival nodded firmly.
"I'll have it arranged. Now, come on then, let's get back to HQ and have you test out two more jets today. We'll finish them up tomorrow. And if you can manage, try not to crash. I'm going to get an earful from Arthur when he hears about this, you know."
"Sorry, sir. But it might've been helpful to have a manual of some sort."
"Do you honestly think that you'll have time to read through a manual when someone has a bazooka pointed at your face? You might as well be having a cup of tea with that." They started walking towards Percival's jet, continuing to banter lightly.
From her seat in the tallest pine tree in the clearing, Winter watched the two men retreating back into the plane with a pair of binoculars. She sighed absentmindedly, thinking about her brief conversation with Harry. Maybe he was different from the others. Maybe, just maybe, he could be her friend.
Thanks so much for reading. Hope it was sort of exciting at least. What's your opinion on Winter? Any advice or questions? Post a review and I'll get right back to you. THANKS!
-happynomnom