Solo Forever
Chapter 2: Low Flying
Street lights illuminated the dark city road as cars moved smoothly through the town of Panama City. In the middle of all the traffic a single headlight weaved in between cars, gracefully, yet recklessly causing a few angry honks. The powerful engine of a motorcycle carried its passenger through the traffic, its rev getting higher and higher just before shifting into the next gear. Hunched over the seat of the motorcycle was its rider who was wearing a brown leather jacket with blue jeans, the black visor of his helmet shielding his identity from others.
As the motorcycle neared its destination the rider pressed the brakes slowly, his rpm decreasing steadily. Smoothly the bike pulled off the road and into a wet parking lot. The rider slowed to a halt in the front of a very run down building. Parking his bike in one of the nearby parking spots he looked up at the neon sign above him. Some of the letters were out, flashing on and off, but he could still make out what it read.
"Cloud Nine Gentlemen's Club"
The rider dismounted his bike and removed his helmet revealing his light brown hair. James looked back up at the sign in a distasteful manner. 'Where do they come up with these god damn names?' he thought. "They might as well just forget how good the name is; this place practically attracts the lowest of the low…" James mumbled to himself. He walked up to the door and opened it.
The deep thump of a bass shook his head when he entered the club. In the dark room strobe lights flashed everywhere making it hard for James to see where he was going. After slowly walking around for a moment James finally gave up on finding a table and looked for the bar. He nearly bumped into a provocatively dressed waitress on his way over to the side of the room where the bar was located. He couldn't help but notice as he took a seat at the bar how little of her body was covered in clothing. James sat there for a moment looking around at the other men in the dark room sitting at tables. Each had a few strippers dancing on the pole sticking out of the middle of each table. Both the strippers and the men sitting at the tables looked like they had seen better days, much better days.
'What the hell am I doing here… this doesn't feel like R&R at all.'
"what can I get you sir?"
James's thoughts were interrupted by the bartender who was standing on the other side of the bar. He looked up at the man not knowing what to order but quickly sputtered out an answer. "uh-… I'll just take water for now." The man behind the bar gave him a funny look. "Ice or no Ice?" he said grabbing a glass. James replied with the same tone of voice, "No ice." As the glass slowly filled the older looking bartender looked up with a grin on his face. "It's been a while sense someone ordered just a glass of water here my friend. Something must be wrong with ya." James chuckled at the man's joke, "No. I'm active duty, on standby right now. Can't really drink a whole lot tonight" The bartender raised an eyebrow at him. "You must be something to show up in this part of town. Not a lot of people are pro-war here, let alone pro-military…" James took no caution from the man's comment. "I'll take my chances…" The bartender set the glass of water down in front James. He looked James straight in the eye, "I'm neutral on the whole issue at hand but…"
James shot him a sharp glance, "What issue."
The bartender leaned in closer to James and spoke quietly to him, "Listen buddy, not a lot of people like what the war has brought upon us. People around here hate the military! I'm just warning you to save us both a bunch of trouble" he paused and pointed over at the entrance. James looked behind him at the entrance. A big man dressed in a suit had just walked in and was looking left and right, like he was searching for something. "See that guy? He's the one you really need to stay away from. If he were to find out that someone in the military was here he might flip his shit." James watched as the man eyed the bar and started to walk towards them. "Just make sure he doesn't find out you're military and you should be good" the bartender finished. James turned around just before the big man reached the bar and spoke to the bartender, "No promises, buddy."
"Hey Ben!"
The bartender leaned back from James and looked up at the bigger man. "Yes, Jerry, what can I do for ya?" James kept his head slightly lowered just like the numerous other drunks in the club to avoid attention. The big man stood right next to James and completely ignored him. "Yeah! Some military puke parked his damn bike in my parking spot!"
'Shit, he must have seen my squadron patch sticker on the bikes fuel tank' James thought to himself as he took a sip of water.
"I swear when I find that bitch… I'll bust his ass just like I did to his bike! You see him anywhere?"
The bartender looked at James then back to Jerry, "No I don't think I have Jerry, I'm sorry." James hopped the guy would take the excuse. Jerry scowled at the bartenders answer and looked around again, "Well... Keep an eye out for him!" A sigh of relief barely escaped James's mouth as he heard his response. James took another sip of his water and continued his blank stare at the bar. But just when it seemed like he would leave, Jerry looked down at James's drink and smirked. He reached for it and said, "I'll take some of that buddy" James saw him reach for the drink and quickly moved it out of his reach. Jerry lurched to a halt as his hand grasped nothing but air. With a pissed off look he lunged for the glass thinking he would be successful but James was still one step ahead of him. Quickly James stood up and 'accidentally' bumped the glass into him splashing water all over Jerry's suit.
"AHH! What the-! Hey! Who the f*ck do you think you are buddy!"
He looked up at the man showing no sign of fear. James was tall but this man was taller, almost by a full foot. He set the glass on the bar and spoke with a low voice, "I "ain't", your buddy."
Even Ben could tell that James was mocking the larger mans southern accent. Jerry grit his teeth and launched his fist at James's head but was too slow as he missed completely. James had ducked under the strike and countered with a shove to the man's torso, pushing him back a few feet. He looked back at James with shocked expression on his face. Ben shared the same expression as he still stood behind the bar.
"Listen buddy, as much as I'd love beating the shit out of some punk, I'm looking for some military bitch! So you get back to your drinkin before I change my mind and kick your ass!"
James still stood with a defensive stance ready for what was about to happen. "Sure 'buddy', as soon as you get me a new bike."
At first Jerry couldn't comprehend what he meant by it, "What are you talking about?" but suddenly his eyes shot open. "You!" he bellowed. A full second of silence filled the air before he closed the distance between them. James readied himself as Jerry through his whole body into a single punch. James side stepped at the last moment dodging the blow all together. Quickly he brought his knee up into Jerry's abdomen but the hit did little against the massive man. James stepped back, away from the man, and readied himself for the next attack. Jerry turned around to face James and scowled before he charged at James once again. But this time Jerry had no intention on striking him with his fists. James tried to dodge the attack again but was wrapped up in Jerry's arms. Jerry's momentum carried James backwards until they both collided with a large table. A stripper occupying the table at the time screamed and jumped off her pole. The two men landed on top of the table sending beer bottles and glasses everywhere. James threw his arms over his face as Jerry began to pound away on top of him. Ben watched from the bar as Jerry sent punch after punch crashing down on to James. Techno music was booming in the background giving the fight an even more intense feeling in the club.
'I got to get him off me!' James thought as he felt his arms get weaker and weaker.
Suddenly James's arms gave in and dropped from his face. Jerry connected a punch with James's cheek disorienting him for a moment. Rearing back for yet another strike, Jerry brought his fist down directly onto James mouth with a loud SMACK cutting his lip. When Jerry pulled back for another hit James felt a bottle brush up against his hand. Quickly had grabbed the neck of the bottle and slammed it against the side of Jerry's face. Jerry cried out in agony as the bottle busted open on the side of his head, creating a large cut. He stumbled back a few feet clutching his face, giving James time to recover. Slowly getting off the table, James spit blood out of his mouth onto the floor.
James walked towards Jerry with a deadly look on his face. He grabbed a chair from a nearby table and gripped it by the legs. When James was close he swung the chair and hit Jerry on the back breaking it into many pieces. Jerry fell onto a table, breaking it in half because of his sheer size. He crawled a few feet before getting back up on his feet still grabbing his face. James walked over to the broken table and yanked the stripper pole out of the ceiling. He looked over to see the blood on Jerry's face getting into his eyes, blurring his vision. Jerry called out to him with a mad voice trying to pinpoint James's location, "Where the hell are you, you little shit!"
James held the metal pole like a bat and faced Jerry with the same deathly look. "Over here" He said in a low voice.
Jerry turned to the direction of his voice. He let lose a cry as he charged towards James blindly.
"SON OF A BITCH!"
*CLUNK!*
The whole club had stopped. The music and dancers had completely stopped. Ben's jaw hung in the air as he looked at James with a shocked expression. James dropped the bent metal pole from his hand letting it hit the floor with a clatter. Ben was looking back and forth between James's face and the body that lay on the floor. Jerry lay knocked out on his back with a huge red bump on his head.
James stumbled over to the bar and looked up a Ben with a guilty face. "What do I owe you for the damage?" he said solemnly. The bartender looked at him with the same shocked face. "I-It's on the house…" he stuttered. James looked at him to see if he was serious but he looked too shocked to care about the damage. He nodded slowly and turned around to face the rest of the club. Almost everyone in the building shared the same expression as Ben did. 'I think maybe I should get out of here…' he thought cautiously.
Suddenly James felt two pairs of hands grab his arms and hold them behind his back. He looked behind him to see two bouncers almost the size of the man he just knocked out forcing him towards the door. Any resisting action James attempted was easily stifled by the two strong men. When he was finally carried out the door, everyone in the club slowly returned to what they were doing. The dancers went back to dancing, the drunks went back to drinking, and the music stated to play again.
Outside, the two bouncers roughly tossed James out the door not showing any care at all for him. "Stay out…!" one yelled as he landed a few feet from the curb in a small rain puddle. James got up quickly trying not to get his pants wet. He rubbed his arms slightly, feeling a bit sore from the fight just moments ago. 'You don't have to tell me twice. Damn… what a night' he thought looking up at the club. Turning back to the parking lot he searched for his motorcycle in the dimly lit area. 'Now where is my… '
"…there it is." He answered out load to himself.
In the middle of the lot he could see his bike, or what was left of it. The front headlight was smashed, both tires had been slashed, and the paint looked like it was dragged behind a truck for miles. James walked over his bike to see even more damage that wasn't noticeable from a distance. The motor had been disassembled recklessly, the seat cover was gone and both mirrors were gone. 'damn he really did beat it to shit…' James stood there for a moment inspecting the damage with a frown. He picked up what was left of his license plate and held it in front of him. His frown soon turned to smirk, then a smile as he thought about what happen inside the club. 'At least that Jerry guy looks worse than my bike…' he thought. Soon his smile grew brighter and he began to laugh. His laugh grew louder and louder until he was laughing hysterically.
"HA! That RIGHT! You ugly son of a bitch!" he yelled throwing the license plate at the club. He watched as it flew across the parking lot but fell short of the building. 'This will be the last time I go to a strip club…' he thought to himself, still laughing.
But slowly his laughing stopped and his smile disappeared when a suspicious looking blue BMW pulled into the parking lot of the club. The cars lights nearly blinded him as is it pulled up closer. It came to a stop with the driver's side door closest to him. James watched as the tinted window rolled down slowly revealing the driver.
"Lieutenant James Mitchell?"
"Yes?" James replied to the unknown voice not know what to expect.
"Your crew chief told me you might be here. Get in, you're being reassigned."
James hesitated for a moment but quickly walked around the car and got into the passenger's side door. Inside the car James buckled his seat belt and looked at the driver next to him. The driver was a man, maybe in his early 40's, dressed in his uniform. James also saw the man was a colonel as well and took note of it to show respect next time speaking. The Colonel drove out of the parking lot in silence. The whole car ride stayed this way until James finally spoke up.
"Sir? Do you mind telling me why I'm being reassigned? I'm on standby right now."
The Colonel promptly replied "Not anymore son, Pentagon has plans for you, BIG plans. I can't tell you much but I'll start with the introduction. My name is Colonel Sheppard, your commanding officer from now on."
"What unit am I being reassigned to sir?"
A smirk surfaced from the Colonels rocky looking face. "I'll explain that soon enough, but now I have a question for you. Your sortie you flew today, how many kills did you score?"
"Three…sir." James looked at him funny knowing that the Colonel knew something he didn't.
"And of these three enemy planes shot down did one stand out of the ordinary?"
"No I don't think-"James thought back to the engagement he had earlier today. The Russian SU-47 with the strange markings. "Wait. Yes. Yes sir. How did…?"
"I know?" he finished. "Well it turns out that the pilot was one of Russia's best aces… The Russian's loved this guy like he was a Soviet celebrity or something. He's all over their news and propaganda." The Colonel stopped and let out a light chuckle. "…and you shot him down."
James continued his dumbstruck stare not knowing what to say. The Colonel looked at him with a sly smirk "I've read your file. Not the best and brightest of the Air Force. Joined in right from the streets with no previous flight experience what so ever, barely made it out of college with a batchers'. No parents, siblings, or family for that matter. Top of class in UPT, Nominated for section leader… five times. All stripped do to disciplinary actions... but you were handpicked from the pukes at the pentagon so you must be something."
The car turned off the road and into a small airfield, mostly likely used for private planes. The car stopped next to a Government owned Gulf Stream 5000 private plane that was being patrolled by two Air force security police. The Colonel opened the door and got out leaving James still in the car. After a moment of waiting James decided he would do the same and quickly got out of the car as well. When he got out James saw Shepherd opening the trunk of the car. He pulled out what looked like a large military duffle bag and an olive green flight bag. "I took the liberty of packing all your belongings and bringing them here." The young pilot gave him a very irritated look knowing all of his things were violated by another person. "I'm sorry but we were short on time," the Colonel replied know full well he was not happy.
James walked over and opened his flight bag check to see if everything was there. After a quick look he found that everything was accounted for but one thing. He unzipped a small pocket on the inside of the bag and removed a photo from within, stuffing it in his jacket pocket. "Don't worry about it sir." James asked looking up at the colonel.
"Were in a hurry, grab your things and let's go."
Without question he slung the flight bag over his shoulder and grabbed the duffle bag from the back of the car. James followed the Colonel up the steps of the plane and watched the door close behind him. Two sharp looking pilots were flipping switches in the cockpit not even paying attention to the two passengers as they shuffled through the cabin. The inside of the plane looked very professional with its tan colored interior. Four large swiveling chairs rested in the front of the plane, two on each side. Behind the chairs was the second section of the plane filled with rows of the tan colored seats. James slowly made his way to the back of the plane to put his bags in the empty seats. The sound of the Gulf Streams two small engines started to surface as he set his bags down in the first row of seats. He turned back around to see the Colonel talking to the two pilots in the front. The sound of the engines reaching their idle power warned James the plane was about to depart. James took a seat in the back pair of swivel chairs looking out the small window next to him. He could see the two security police holding the planes chalks next to the car. One of the soldiers gave the plane a 'thumbs up' and tossed the wooden blocks in the back of the BMW. James suddenly felt the plane lurch forward as they began to taxi towards the runway. James buckled his seat belt around his waist and looked up to see the colonel walking from the cockpit. He took a seat next to James and fastened his seat belt as well looking straight forward when the belt was securely fastened.
James turned his head to look out the window and watched the plane as it lined up on the end of the runway. Its engines slowly grew louder and louder as the plane came to a halt.
"Sir where are we going?" James said looking back over to Colonel Shepherd. The Colonel continued to look forward, "We have to make a few stops, just sit back and relax for now." The plane accelerated down the runway pushing James and Colonel Shepherd back in their seats…
A/N: Yo! Well to those of you who still care I hoped you enjoyed this. (well over due, very sorry).
Its been a long time in fact, almost years haha. But good news is (for me), I'm on my way to becoming a fighter pilot myself! Just 4 years of Naval ROTC and college is all that's in my way of becoming a naval aviator! My work load next semester is very light so now that I'm not worried about getting into college, school work, and girlfriends...I'll have more time for continuing this story! Just need to find the motivation to write... So drop a review in if you can please and I'll try my best to get the next chapter out ASAP!
And on a side note... Couldn't help but notice that I started doing these Ace Combat FF in our world like 3 years ago. Then all of the sudden the Ace Combat game series takes place in real world times... Maybe it's just me haha but I think it would be kind of cool to think I had a little something to do with that, but that's highly unlikely haha.
As always, R&R! It helps with my motivation to write when I know there are people out there that read what I'm typing.