Original story based on and including characters and material created by Project Aces for Namco Bandai. The author claims no ownership over them. Gunther Heimeroth character by Pokefanficwriter92.
On Wings of Nightingales (Mercenary)
Chapter 5
"You did not bear the shame. You resisted. You bestowed an eternally vigilant symbol of change by sacrificing your impassioned lives for freedom, justice and honor." - Gedenkstätte Deutscher Widerstand (German Resistance Memorial)
By the end of May, most of South Belka's largest cities and towns declared themselves demilitarized and peacefully surrendered to the advancing Allies. The retreating Belkan Army was only able to reorganize in the Waldreich mountains, where they prepared for the final defense of Nord Belka using the natural barrier to their advantage.
Emboldened by the "people of Belka's resolve to see their country freed of tyranny," quoting the same (then-Lieutenant General) Paul Howell that would lead Osean troops into Yuktobania 15 years later, the Allies began to escalate their tactics in hopes of forcing the more conservative northern Belkan establishment to follow South Belka's lead. Precision bombing gave way to full-scale carpetbombing. Over-ambitious troops from the Yuktobanian-supported eastern republics also began to execute captured soldiers.
Much of the National Workers' Party leadership had drastically similar ideas. Knowing that the Army would eventually try to seek a ceasefire, they set about preparing for their own last stand. They intended to fight fire with fire, escalation with escalation. They began to actively persecute anyone of non-Belkan descent within their own borders, imprisoning and even executing them.
These efforts only further deepened the discontent many already felt with the government, both in civilian and military circles. But it was only on the 6th of June that all of this would come to a head.
Hammersmark AFB, Belka
6 June 1995
1313 hrs.
I tilted my head forward into my hands, both clasped around the respirator attached to my helmet as if in prayer. My eyes were closed as the other MiG-31 Foxhounds in my squadron taxied in front of me.
"Engel 2-1, you are cleared for takeoff..." came the order to the lead plane. After him was Engel 2-2, then mine, Engel 2-3. It was appropriate that the count-up felt like a countdown to the launch of a rocket mission.
It had to. For everyone else on this flight, it was a mission to save Belka from the fanatics that had corrupted our national spirit for the sake of domination. But to me, this mission was much more personal.
The National Workers' Party had prided this war as correcting a "mistake" for national pride. By foiling their plan, I would correct my own mistake - that of supporting them.
"This is it, Nachtigall, are you ready?" my weapons systems officer asked from the seat behind me.
"Ready as I'll ever be, Oberleutnant."
Another voice then contacted me over the radio. "Annet- I mean...Nachtigall. I can't believe we're doing this."
"Neither can I, Gunther..." I replied as I started to ease the plane onto the tarmac.
Neu Eisendorf AFB, Belka
28 May 1995
1721 hrs.
It was a warm night out, made even warmer by the fact that my previous shower had gotten my body used to the cold. As a result, it felt almost tropical as I left the barracks in my dress uniform. I tried to keep my mind on my upcoming reassignment, not letting the sound of the large transport aircraft shuttling the pilots toward their 'special assignment' distract me.
For a moment, I really thought I finally got the events of the day out of my mind, and as I approached the command center it almost seemed as if it never happened at all.
At least until someone suddenly came out of nowhere and grabbed me by my shoulders. It wasn't as strong a grip as the BVK muscle that arrested me this morning, but it almost literally scared the piss out of me. It definitely caused me to yelp like a small, wounded animal.
"Oh God...Oberleutnant, someone to talk to!" he said.
"Jesus, you scared me!" I said, gasping for air. The pilot that grabbed me looked like he was just fresh out of the G-Force simulator.
"Good...uh...no...look, can we just talk somewhere?" The look on his face showed almost that exact same fear and panicked sadness that mine did earlier this morning.
"Uh, sure," I answered with a nervous glance to the side. I didn't know what he wanted at the time, but I started to mentally prepare myself for anything including a BVK trap. I wouldn't know if I would have time to feel regret if they decided to simply silence me once and for all with a bullet to the head.
We headed back into the barracks. Because men and women had separate quarters, we instead went into the rec room, which was predictably deserted with everyone else already in the mess hall or getting their reassignment.
"All right. We're out of everyone's sight. Who the hell are you?" I asked with a glare.
"L...Leutnant Gunther Heimeroth," he said. The name didn't ring a bell.
"Okay. Gunther. Leutnant. Whoever you are. Why the hell is this all about?"
"Because," he replied on the brink of tears, "I don't know what's happening anymore...and I don't know what to do..."
"Do about what?" I asked, trying to contain my anger.
"You were there...weren't you?"
A tingle shot up my spine, and I looked around the room quickly to see if this was a cue for some black-uniformed Korps thugs to enter and arrest me.
"My record got me in, but I was in the back," I replied, doing my best to lie, "I don't think I noticed you. I left early while I could though...I just can't stand Korps propaganda. Why were you there?"
"My brother Michael is a Korps pilot..." he whimpered, trying to maintain his composure. "I wanted to go into computers when I enlisted...but he had me train as a pilot because that wasn't quite patriotic enough...then he ended up putting me in the rally."
I winced. Grabacr weren't the BVK's only squadron. They had others, named after creatures from Nordic mythology. And the rivalries between the BVK and the regular army extended into sibling rivalry.
"Why did you stay then?"
"Because...I didn't think it was going to be that bad..." he replied, shivering and looking out at the windows like Michael was watching, "And I didn't want to disappoint him."
"Wait, what happened after I left?" I assumed the General gave his loyal pilots one last salute and sang the anthem after Pops got arrested. But now that I had gotten this far already, it wasn't as if turning back would accomplish anything.
"You remember...Strossen showed us photos of our fighters shot down, wreckages. He taunted us about how we weren't doing enough," Gunther explained, "Didn't seem so bad at first, kept telling myself the Korps just love to lord it over us with their mind tricks."
"But that wasn't enough to get you out of the meeting?"
"No, I stayed to the end. I thought it was all just gonna be Korps bluster...then he started talking about how there would we would have to endure 'great sacrifices' to achieve a true victory. That we would be prepared to lose what we held dearest to us to save the nation."
"And yet you stayed?"
"I thought we were going to go on a low-altitude stealth bombing run to Oured or Gran Rugido," Gunther groaned. "You know, drop a couple bombs on a parking lot and flee to show them they're not invincible, like in those daring missions of the old days. I didn't know they were serious about nuclear weapons!"
"And you didn't say anything?" I replied frustratedly, though it felt like I was saying that to myself instead of him.
"I didn't want to at first. I thought Pops would rally us...but we cheered when they arrested him..." he whimpered.
It was then I remembered that the 'Pinguine' had a third nickname used only by those that he trained. His penchant for stern, fatherly behavior as the leader of his training squadron earned him the name 'Pops.'
"Arrested? Where is he now?" I asked fearfully, hoping I wouldn't get the answer I expected to hear.
"He tried to escape, but the Korps tracked him down and killed him..."
But that wasn't what caused me to shiver as much as the fact that news of my feat spread around so quickly.
"That was..." I stuttered, trying to feign surprise. "That was quick!"
"He tried to escape in an old MiG. I knew he could evade Schwarze with his skill, but they sent Bernitz after him..." he started to snivel, "He didn't stand a chance."
I wanted to feel relieved that people were crediting the kill to Bernitz, but that wouldn't change the fact that I actively aided Huckebein's demise.
Perhaps it was the memory of the events that transpired since then, but it was actually very easy to sympathize. He leaned in close as he started sobbing, and I hugged him like a mother consoling her son. Nobody thought it would be that bad. But now that we did, we would never forget it.
"And you waited all this time to tell someone..."
"I wanted to tell someone else. Really, I did! But my brother..." he moaned. "...He wouldn't give a s...second thought to having me imprisoned..."
Unfortunately, I knew the feeling. 10 hours and a long, cold shower wasn't enough to completely suppress an experience that suddenly came rushing back when Gunther ran into me. Even worse, it left me at a loss for words.
"What are we going to do now?" he then asked.
"Other than try to expose the plans from here?" I replied, looking at the floor, "I don't know...dammit...I just don't know...they'll kill us if we try to bring it to the Allies. We could show the base commander, but he's probably in on it..."
"You know what," Gunther replied, sitting up suddenly, "That's a good idea."
I stared dumbfounded at him. "Excuse me?"
"Follow me...There has got to be a base commander out in South Belka that doesn't want this to happen," he explained as he started to walk out, fueled by a sudden burst of what was either or both recklessness or courage.
"Are you out of your mind?" I exclaimed, standing up from my seat. "You think they're just going to take our word for it?"
"That's why we have to get a copy of the plans," he replied as we left the rec room.
"And how do you propose we do that?" I asked, as I inexorably ended up following him back out.
"If they used the auditorium's projector, then they probably used the computer wired to it. They might have saved a copy onto it." his voice died down outside, loud enough just for me to hear.
"What if they deleted the file?" I looked around repeatedly, checking to see if any of the base's security thought of what was happening as anything more than some lovers' quarrel.
"That's a chance we'll have to take," he replied with a smile as he looked back toward me.
"Wait!" I said. I didn't want to run to avoid attracting more attention, but he always seemed to walk faster than me. Before we knew it, we found ourselves at the same side entrance to the auditorium...my portal to fate.
And, as Gunther showed to my own horror, it hadn't been locked since this morning. Instead of leading me into the entrance hall, he went up a flight of side stairs which had to lead directly to the projector room. Surprisingly, we managed not to trip any alarms even as I followed him up, but then again this was an auditorium and not the GHQ.
We stopped by the projector room door. The hallway was dimly lit, but I could now see that Gunther was smiling as if he didn't care if he got caught.
"God...I don't know why I followed you..." I said, more exhausted than he was.
"It's okay..." Gunther said, also panting for breath. "It's not like we can go back now, can we?"
I simply nodded as he checked the doorknob. Perhaps unsurprisingly...it wasn't locked either. The two of us went in and found ourselves in near absolute silence. The only "light" in the room that didn't come from outside came from the tiny red and green LEDs of the various machinery left on standby.
"You stand guard by the doorway, I'll switch it on." Out of reflex and despite every mental objection, I glued myself to the door and peered out as Gunther found the projector's main computer and switched it on. The silence was slowly washed way by the quiet whirring noise of machinery, then accented by Gunther tapping away at the keyboard in search of the digital silde show.
It looked like several files like those had been loaded onto the computer, but none of them were labeled with anything that might have given away their intent, such as 'BVK' or 'Eden.'
"Dammit, it's not here..." he grumbled.
I took a frustrated sigh and looked out. Nobody, not even the janitors, had noticed we were in here.
"I know..." he replied, "The files have records of when they were last accessed. Maybe if I check by their last access dates...a-ha! Here it is!"
I had turned my head to check outside long enough that I couldn't catch the file name. But when I turned it back, the familiar images of the map and the bomb locations suddenly appeared. I could hear Gruppenfuhrer Strossen's words echoing in my head, explaining the plan again as we went through each slide.
"God...that's the one..." I murmured.
"Yeah. Now we just have to get it onto a disk and out of here..." Gunther looked around, noticing a minidisc on a shelf. "This should do it..."
I took another look outside as the disk slid into the drive with a click. My eyes widened as the beam of a flashlight seemed to dash about the hall.
"Someone's coming!" I said.
"I've got it...hang on..." Gunther replied, turning the computer screen off while the contents transferred to the disk. "Almost there..."
I gently closed the door and slid behind it. I didn't even have a sidearm on me, so if we got caught, we were done for.
"Aaaand...we're done. Come on, let's go..." he whispered, hastily switching the computer off and crawling over to me as I watched a flicker of light pass through the small gap under the door. I held my breath as I heard a set of footsteps pass by.
As soon as both of us were sure the footsteps passed, the two of us raced out the door and bolted in the opposite direction.
We hurried down the steps, sweat beading down our foreheads as we approached the exit whence we came. Someone had closed the door, but since we were already inside it wasn't hard to unlock and open it again.
As the auditorium door closed behind us, the two of us rounded a corner to the back of the building where we stopped to catch our breath.
"Wow...I can't believe we did it..." Gunther panted, laughing.
Unlike him, I didn't find it humorous in the least. I grabbed his shoulders in much the same way he grabbed mine. That wiped the smile off of his face.
"Hold on. How do I know we didn't just do all this as a setup for a Korps ambush?" I asked sternly.
"Because I thought you'd do the same thing," he said, forcing a smile, "Getting me to express my traitorous desires and have me caught red handed."
Gunther then proceeded to return my grasp with a hug. My eyes almost bugged out of their sockets, as I imagined the sirens of a Korps SUV or the sound of boots marching up to arrest me. But none of these fears were realized, even after he let go.
"Ah, hell. Where do we go from here?" I asked, my face flushed.
"Well," he replied, putting one hand on his hips and scratching his head with the other, "we still have to send this to someone."
"But you know you can't just walk into the base commander's office and show it to him," I said, "Just...don't write your name on the envelope."
"Yeah, you're probably right." He then offered the disc to me. I recoiled like it was radioactive. "Hey, maybe you could-"
"Really. I don't want this coming back to any of us," I said, fear causing me to push his hand back to him, while talking faster than I normally did. "If anyone asks, I don't even know you.
"I guess you're right... So..."
"I'll see you later..." I hastily added, before turning my back and walking as fast as I could toward the mess hall.
I looked back for a split second to see him waving timidly.
My legs were already starting to tremble again as I walked into the command center to get my reassignment. After that, I went straight back to the barracks and passed out.
Hammersmark AFB, Belka
6 June 1995
1245 hrs.
Hammersmark AFB was located in one of the few parts of South Belka not yet taken by the Allies, specifically on a swath of grassy plain just over the western side of the Waldreichs. It wasn't a particularly large or busy base compared to Neu Eisendorf, which made it a nice, inconspicuous hub for a minor supply route conveniently far from the nearest quiet hamlet.
It therefore seemed an ideal place to relegate someone that had fallen out of favor with the government without killing them or giving them a desk job.
That was certainly what it felt like, as my previous assignment had been 'redacted' and a transport wing stationed here hastily typed in its place. The Neu Eisendorf base commander didn't ask any questions about it, and from the look on his face he didn't want me to. The Korps conveniently wanted me out of the way for the duration of the conflict after doing their dirty work, and it was much better than a(n immediate) show trial and execution.
Meanwhile, the war went on. The Allies carpetbombed Hoffnung five days ago. Hundreds of civilians died, not just from their bombers but from the Army and Korps' scorched earth tactics. They abandoned the city and its surviving citizens to their fate, disillusioned and distrustful of anyone but themselves, while the Demon Lord and his minions looked on from above and laughed. While the fires of the city died down by morning, the fires of discontent within Belka slowly burned hotter and hotter by the day.
And there was no better way to fuel these flames than with a plan for imminent nuclear apocalypse. The digital slide show wasn't incriminating in itself when it arrived anonymously at Military Intelligence, which was already frustrated enough with the National Workers' Party's efforts to escalate their tactics. But it did get a lot of the "regulars" digging into their Korps counterparts more diligently than did before. Now that the rest of the Armed Forces had been drawn into this plot, everyone was in it together.
For better or worse.
Yet I didn't know the full scale of what the Armed Forces had been able to put together in such relatively short notice until that fateful morning. I had been flying C-5s and C-130s shuffling equipment over the Waldreichs and back since my reassignment, quietly trying to forget what I did in Neu Eisendorf and hoping that our army would somehow reach a ceasefire and allow it to all pass into history. It helped that I hadn't been re-arrested and then executed immediately after that night, and by the evening of the 5th, I could even get something close to a good night's sleep.
I just never expected to face those events again in the manner that things turned out that morning.
I had just climbed out of a C-5 from an early-morning transport sortie when I was greeted on the tarmac by a member of the Special Forces who informed me that I was wanted for briefing. I stopped in my tracks for a split second upon noticing him, almost mistaking him for a Korps agent.
It wasn't surprising that I needed to attend a briefing for my next mission so quickly. With the Allies getting closer, the Army needed every resource diverted to the battlefield as soon as possible.
What surprised me was the fact that I hadn't been notified beforehand over the radio, and that it wasn't exactly normal protocol for the Special Forces to hold a briefing for Luftwaffe pilots unless the mission had to be top secret. And at least it wasn't an MP or a member of the Korps here to re-arrest me.
There were sixteen pilots in the briefing room, including myself and of all people, Gunther Heimeroth. Gunther was quite happy to see me, giving me practically the same hug he gave me more than a week ago at Neu Eisendorf. But I was particularly scared to see him, especially since he was supposed to be somewhere else preparing for Operation Eden. Had he gone AWOL or done something else to anger his brother or superiors?
I didn't get a chance to ask him before the base commander that organized this briefing greeted me.
"Oberleutnant Zweig, good to see you made it," the commandant began, to which I replied with a salute before taking my seat. "That should be everyone."
Presiding over this briefing was Base Commander Dieter Hellmuth, along with a few mid-rank officers of the Army and Special Forces. Even the chief of the nearby town's police had shown up in a patrol uniform. The mood was somber and serious, with none of the pomp and circumstance of Gruppenfuhrer Strossen's rally. And the room was filled with an almost eerie silence, as if I was the guest at a haunted party.
Hellmuth was one of Strossen's contemporaries and one of the many veterans of the Expansion War. His influence within the Luftwaffe also made him one of those critics of the National Workers' Party government too valuable to simply 'dispose of' compared to a normal pilot like Pops. Thus he and others were quietly pushed aside to where they would pose no harm until the war's end when they could be dealt with.
Of course, the flaw in that logic was that they ended up concentrating all these critics in just a few places and at this point they didn't quite have the resources to kill them all in one fell swoop. With Schwarze gone, it also gave a wider opportunity to those inclined to flee. Those that stayed behind had room to plan.
"You are all in this room because you are patriots. You are prepared to give your lives for Belka." Commandant Hellmuth began solemnly, in respect for the mission he assigned to us. "This is war, after all, and it is our duty as soldiers to represent our country and people in battle."
He then took a deep breath as to avoid sounding like his Korps counterpart.
"But we as soldiers do not just have a patriotic duty to serve our country. Above and beyond that we have a moral duty to protect our country from those that are willing to blind themselves in their quest for victory. And that means taking even larger risks than they do."
He nodded to the side, where an aide switched on the briefing room's projector to show a map of the Waldreichs.
"GHQ South have just informed us that several bomber flights equipped with nuclear weapons will be taking off in the next few minutes against Allied targets in Belka and Ustio."
This clearly unsettled the pilots and staff, who probably already knew but weren't expecting it so soon. It unsettled me and Gunther especially, since many of Operation Eden's targets still hadn't quite fallen into Allied hands. Whether the government predicted the Allied advance into those areas was beside the point. It wouldn't matter who died in the blasts, as long as it furthered the Nationalists' agenda.
"Over the past few days we have coordinated with other bases in and around Belka about the plan they are executing now. Not only do they sympathize with us, they are also readying their own efforts to stop Operation Eden. Needless to say, forces loyal to the government have also caught wind, and there is no doubt they are moving to silence us even now."
Once again, I imagined that as a cue for a swift and deadly raid that would end in a protracted, painful death for those not killed immediately.
"Sir? Wouldn't the Allies know about this already?" one of the pilots asked.
"That is a good question, Hauptmann," Hellmuth replied. "The BVK have been drastically efficient at preventing any leaks. By the time the Allies' radiation detectors start going off, they'll barely have time to scramble let alone shoot them down."
I lowered my head in shame.
"According to the information we received from military intelligence, two of these bomber flights will pass within operational range of Hammersmark Base. Thus, you will be divided into two groups, codenamed Engel 1 and 2."
Two blue lines denoting these flights appeared on the map, extending to meet two thick red arrows emerging from bases in the north. Two lists of names also appeared denoting our assignments. Mine was Engel 2-3, Gunther was 2-4.
"Engel 1 will intercept the bomber flight over Mollsitz in Ostland. Engel 2 will head out over Waldreich."
Waldreich was one of the first settlements of the old civilizations trying to chart paths westward across the mountain range from Lake Edelwasser and Stier Castle. The town's name translated loosely to 'wooded,' which suited the town's history as a logging site for the old Belkan kingdoms. Today, the Korps would send messengers of destruction over the mountains, not exploration.
"You will have our fighter fleet at your disposal. The interceptors may not seem like much, but they are very well maintained and should make short work of a 335."
Commandant Hellmuth then took a long sigh, as if to get to the 'bad news' after explaining the good.
"They have also been modified so they will not broadcast a hostile IFF to the Allies, however this will not guarantee that they won't fire at you."
Hellmuth did not mince words when it came to the risks we faced as we found ourselves facing off against enemies and former friends. But at that moment, I began to think of the Demon Lord. What if he found himself between us and the bombers? Would it finally trigger what little moral fiber he had left, or would he sit back and savor the destruction? Or perhaps not knowing about Operation Eden or its intended consequences, would he just try to shoot down as many of us as possible in hopes of a bigger paycheck until the fireball sent him back to hell?
"This mission may very likely end in failure. Perhaps we can only stop one or two nukes from reaching their targets, perhaps it will not stop the Allies' bloodlust or our Chancellor Drexler's greed. Whatever the case, it must be known that here and across Belka we did not blindly follow our nation into destruction."
The projector shut off, and Hellmuth walked into the aisle between our seats.
"I cannot keep you any longer. The Special Forces at this base will ensure your planes get off the ground before the Korps arrive. If you do not wish to fly, you may escape with the flight crews with no stain on your record or dignity. Either way, you are on your own once you decide. Dismissed."
Each of us saluted and slowly filed out of the briefing room without another word, as Commandant Hellmuth watched us leave. All of us walked straight toward the hangars. There was no rousing applause, no salutes or singing of the national anthem, merely a quiet reverence to the task at hand. It was not hard to tell that all sixteen of us had already resolved to intercept the bombers. Which left me to break the silence.
"Gunther? What the hell are you doing here!" I suddenly asked.
"I'm going to stop my brother's plans, that's what," Gunther replied, suddenly filled with a much more angry determination than before.
"But weren't you already assigned to Operation Eden?"
"I...uh..." Gunther leaned in, embarrassed to confess, "I had a nervous breakdown after sending the data. My brother intervened, had me sent here so he could deal with me personally afterward..."
I smirked and half-glared. The sibling rivalry between branches of the military was a double-edged sword. The blessing of having influential family in the ranks also came with the curse of being forced to live down the peer pressure and competition.
"Lucky you," came my response, "My little sister's hiding in a bomb shelter somewhere."
The northeast hadn't really seen much action from any opposing forces other than the occasional attempted bombing raid by the Yuktobanians, and they weren't likely to see any for the time being thanks to a much more target-rich environment closer to the front line.
"Lucky is right...I've got a chance to finally show my brother what's really worth fighting for," Gunther replied excitedly.
Hammersmark kept a small fleet of standard MiG-31s for interception duties. With our air force decimated by recent battles, the MiGs were stretched thin and often sent out with little more than basic maintenance. There was a strange warmth about their hangars as we entered, probably from the Foxhounds' engines still cooling from their last sortie.
I took a long sigh as I strapped myself into the Foxhound's cockpit, with my weapons support officer seated behind me. Unlike the Berkut or the Falcon, the Foxhound's cockpit felt almost ancient. The radar system would be operated my my weapons systems officer, who was already clicking away at the control panel in the seat behind me.
I tilted my head forward into my hands, both clasped around the respirator attached to my helmet as if in prayer. My eyes were closed as the other MiG-31 Foxhounds in my squadron taxied in front of me.
"Engel 2-1, you are cleared for takeoff..."
"This is it, Nachtigall, are you ready?" my weapons systems officer asked from the seat behind me.
"Ready as I'll ever be..."
"Oberleut- I mean...Nachtigall," came Gunther's voice, "I can't believe we're doing this."
"Neither can I, Gunther." I still couldn't fully believe that the events of the past two weeks even happened at all, let alone that we were now trying to stop them. But here we were.
The Waldreichs lined the horizon off the other side of the runway. Snow-capped peaks topped a vast expanse of green-striped gray as the mountains and their forests obscured our destinies, and our fates. And yet with these events now staring me down I felt a genuine sense of calm. That I had truly expended every other option, and that I would emerge from facing these events a better person than before. If I lived long enough to emerge, that is.
"Engel 2-3, you cleared for takeoff." my radio crackled. I gulped as I edged the plane onto the runway. Engel 2-2's plane was already shrinking into a dot in the sky.
"Roger," my weapons systems officer and I replied in unison as I turned up the throttle. The plane lurched, rumbled, then charged forward before lifting off.
"Altitude restrictions cancelled," came the last order from the control tower, "Don't die out there, Engel flight."
"Hey Nachtigall," my weapons systems officer suddenly said, "Looks like we made it out just in time. Check out what's happening below."
I looked over to my side as I retracted the landing gear. I could see a convoy of armored vehicles rapidly converging on the airfield, their crews ready to eliminate whoever they hadn't let get away. I could see blue LED blinkers on top of white police cars forming a roadblock, with Special Forces setting up ambush positions around them. I could only hope that Gunther's 2-4 got airborne before they got to him.
For the first time, I really felt confident that we would finally right our nation's and our own personal mistakes. We really believed we could change the course of history, hoping that the flight's supersonic interception capabilities would help us stop them in time.
But as we would soon learn, we were already too late to have history written for us.
To Be Continued...