Chapter 10 - Escalation of Commitment, pt.2
For Shino Asada, the 1st January 1969 had been the distant past; some 39 years before her birth and a time during a cold war that threatened to consume the entire world...
For Sinon however, it was just another day. Sure, it was New Year's Day, but other than that, it was just another day in Strangereal for her... at first. Her WF-105 Arrow had been loaded up for a routine patrol from her home base at Kelstedge, the large delta winged interceptor being given the task to patrol the southern Great Lakes, a patrol area that took her over the frozen Lake Jubilant at 25,000 feet and at 400 knots - far from the Arrow's maximum speed or altitude, but just enough to be a more economical use of the Arrow, an aircraft that really wasn't designed for loitering.
The WF-105 was a large, delta winged interceptor designed to climb fast, release every missile it could at an enemy bomber force - those missiles even including nuclear warheads, if needs must - before said bomber force could get anywhere near allied territory.
What it wasn't however... was a strike fighter. Which was a pity, because that was what she really needed right about now.
"That is a lot of tanks…" Someone stated in horror, at the amassed columns of armour and support vehicles advancing across the frozen lakes below her.
"That looks more like a swarm of locusts!" One pilot exclaimed, clearly horrified by the ever-increasing mass of armour and helicopters coming through the frozen forests.
"Most locusts aren't packing HEAT, boss." Someone said unhelpfully.
"Solitaire, Archer, Paladin; this is Goldeneye." Her radio crackled, alongside a beeping noise from her in-game HUD (sadly not her actual HUD, the WF-105 lacking such an amenity), indicating a mission update. "Any assistance you can provide against those ground units is much appreciated!"
"Solitaire understands, Goldeneye. We'll do what we can to thin them out till assistance arrives." The pilot of the Phantom in the flight agreed. "Zeliska, you bought rockets, right?"
"Bombs, and nowhere near enough to handle that many targets." The pilot known as Zeliska answered. The woman flew an A-7A Corsair II, a tactical strike aircraft designed to be more survivable, with a bigger bomb load and significantly greater range than the smaller A-4 Skyhawk, as well as at a reduced cost, compared to more sophisticated A-6 Intruder. All of these features made the A-7 a pretty good bomb truck, but a thoroughly subpar fighter – though it at least carried a pair of guns; the standard Naval fit of Mk12 20mm cannons – which was more than her Arrow carried.
Eight AIM-4 Falcons might have sounded like a strong punch to the uninitiated, but as she'd found out, the smaller missiles had some utterly appalling characteristics that made it very unsuitable for air combat that wasn't simply hunting bombers – the extremely limited seeker function on the IR guided variant, and both variants of the missile lacked a proximity fuse, meaning they required a direct hit, unlike the later AIM-7 and AIM-9 missiles that most aircraft carried.
"Solitaire, this is Goldeneye. Assistance will be on station in five minutes, callsigns Liberator and Samurai.''
"Much obliged Goldeneye, we'll hold them back till then.'' – "Cap, what's the play here? Our guns are gonna be next to useless on those tanks, and Zel's bombs aren't that powerful…''
"Archer, Paladin, are either of you loaded for bear?''
"Negative, purely air-to-air.'' She responded. Her AIM-4s had been used as air-to-ground weapons in a pinch during the Vietnam War, when the theory that the IR seekers could be used to track trucks moving in the dense foliage had been put to the test – it hadn't been a massive success. The missiles were far too small to be effective in anything more than a truck killer role, and the launch aircraft was inevitably too fast to gain a solid lock before overshooting the target.
"The same applies to me. I suppose my cannon may be effective, should it come down to it.'' Paladin replied.
"If I'm not mistaken, are we not over Lake Elizabeth?'' Another pilot asked, this time coming from the Crusader III nearby to Zeliska's A-7. The Crusader III, or F-9A as it was called in ACES Online, rather than its real-world designation of XF8U-3, was a similar looking aircraft to the Corsair II, both aircraft being derived from the F-8 Crusader, though its styling had certainly differed from its predecessor. A sharply swept forward intake on the chin replaced the Crusader's original oval intake in the same position, whilst the aircraft had gained a large ventral fin in place of the Crusader's ventral strakes, all made the F-9A look substantially different (and in her opinion, uglier) than its predecessor, though there was no denying that the new engine (a J75 rather than the Crusader's J57) and improved avionics gave the F-9A a greater edge in a fight than its forebear. Not only could it now see its opponent far sooner, but it could shoot them far sooner too, with a trio of AIM-7 Sparrows carried on fuselage pylons.
"Yeah, so?'' A female voice asked.
"The lake is frozen by this time of year, and those tanks are rolling right over it…'' The Crusader III pilot stated, as if guiding a child through a particularly difficult maths problem.
"The ice is already under pressure! We just need to make it give way!'' A male voice came from Solitaire Lead, though it didn't sound like the usual voice of the flight leader; perhaps it was their RIO, she wondered.
The voice of their leader spoke up again. "Zeliska, reckon you can drop those bombs on a specific point, if we mark it?''
"Consider it done.'' The Corsair pilot stated confidently.
"Kureha, can you deal with those choppers?'' The leader asked.
"On it.'' The silhouette of a very colourful F-7A Skylancer broke away in full afterburner.
"Itsuki, with us. We're gonna make a path for Zeliska. Archer, Paladin, can you two watch for incoming bandits?''
"Copy.'' She replied, scanning her radar set for any aircraft that weren't them. The scope was clear for now, meaning she could focus on flying the Arrow, rather than
''They shall not pass.''
/-/
Onboard the F-9A, Itsuki flipped the myriad of switches to arm his cannons. As much as this was his idea, he couldn't say he was too confident in its success – the ice was thick enough to take an armoured column advancing over it at speed, 20mm fire was barely likely to make a dent in it; not to mention the likelihood that every anti-aircraft gun in the column would be pointed on them as they made their attack run.
"Itsuki, clear on the plan?"
"I am. I shall hit the ice from three o'clock, yourselves from nine o'clock. With some luck, we won't be eviscerated by triple-A, or meet head on as we pull away from our dives.'' There was a small degree of sarcasm in his voice, but then again, it was more unusual if there wasn't such a tone present.
''Zeliska, hang back till we're clear, then give them hell!''
This had every hallmark of a "Jet plan'', as Kureha had so eloquently named such a concept – it was almost suicidal, it was desperate… and above all, it would somehow work perfectly.
Still, now was not the time for such thoughts, and he focused on bringing the Crusader around to his desired angle. The formation of tanks, an advancing mass of steel armour, trucks and other supply vehicles, was now exactly where he wanted them; just off his three o'clock position. In his front windscreen, he could just about make out the purple tailed Phantom of his flight lead, itself in a banking turn to line up their attack path.
"In position.''
"Go in… 2, 1. Go!''
Pushing forward on the control stick, the Crusader dove for the ice, the mass of the aircraft assisting the considerable thrust of the J75 powering it as the altimeter spun rapidly. Around them, cannon fire arced into the early morning sky, 20mm, 23mm and 37mm tracer fire all streaming around them, though coming nowhere near them thankfully. If he had to guess, the gunners were firing blindly into the sky, expecting a far bigger strike force than just a pair of madmen and a mad woman.
He wasn't going to look that gift horse in the mouth though, as he hit the attack point. Two short pulls of the trigger, and two distinct streams of 20mm fire dove ahead of him, unlike his flight lead, who'd clearly decided there was no kill like overkill, and held down the trigger. The resulting burst looked more like a laser beam than a stream of tracer fire, he thought as he pulled the Crusader back into a climb…
The ice below them was far from shattered, but their combined gun run had certainly left an obvious mark in it, and clearly made an impression on the Belkan forces below, a number of whom were deciding that maybe bringing an entire tank column across a frozen lake was not the most intelligent of ideas, as their tanks broke formation and began to scatter.
"Zeliska, your target's made, but they're scarpering!''
"Not for long they won't be.'' She answered, as he watched the Corsair diving on the impromptu target from directly ahead of the formations. Approaching the target, the eight of the sixteen Mk82 Snakeeyes fell away from the aircraft, the tail units of the high-drag bombs opening to allow a chance for the Corsair to escape its own bomb run.
Nearing the top of his escape trajectory, he looked back to the scattered tanks below, as the bombs impacted their makeshift target, and the ice beneath them cracked and crumbled around them, the cold and bleak waters below offering little chance for escape from their stricken vehicles.
"Sie sind untergegangen! Scheisse, das Eis ist-"
''Das ist Badger, wir versinken-''
Came the desperate cries of the crews below, many of which fell eerily silent as yet more specks disappeared below, into the frozen, jet-black water, never to be seen from again.
"Let's hope they bought their life vests, ay Captain.'' Sierra quipped, a slight tone of horror in the Casanova wannabe's voice, and he didn't need to be in the cockpit to know that Jet was looking over their handiwork, equally aghast at the carnage below. He couldn't help but agree with him there; it was necessary, that much he knew, but drowning however many soldiers in their tanks, as they fought to escape from their watery graves… was just not a fair fight.
He wasn't one of these people who fought fair in the conventional way, but neither was he a dangerous psychopath who would gun down an escaping enemy. He was more pragmatic than that. If they fought him, and proved a match, they at least deserved a chance to survive the encounter, he thought. Had this been a conventional tank battle, the people in those tanks could've escaped, they could've fled their burning tanks…
Zeliska was the first person to speak after that. "We did what we had to do.'' She told them...
He wasn't so sure on that.
/-/
On the ground, it was all hands on deck, as aircraft after aircraft was reloaded and refuelled. Ground crew ran around in a routine that, to an untrained observer would've looked like headless chickens, but to those in the know, made the most efficient use of the limited time available.
Lisbeth, as the only player mechanic amongst the 23rd, was amongst those quickly analysing what she could patch up in the field, and what was a ground-able problem.
Thankfully, none of them had taken fatal battle damage yet, though Black Blade One's Phantom was certainly giving its best impression of a pincushion, with the holes removed, what with how many holes it now had in its wings and more alarmingly, near its engines. She was glad that most of the 23mm shells that had clobbered their way into the Phantom had done only superficial damage, but she was far from certain that the shells weren't still in there, and nor did she have the time to check for them. It was either a patch up job, and risk blowing up Kirito and Argo, or keep them back and tell them to fly something else…
Asuna's Wind Fleuret had an equally large problem in that it was missing a pylon now and had developed a slow leak in its hydraulics system, as she could tell from the pooling liquid beneath the left main landing gear. No way was she sending that up into a fight, not when there was a distinct chance Asuna could lose control at any moment!
Her radio crackled to life, as she slapped a red sticker onto the Lightning, telling the crews it was a ''repair later'' job. "Liz, can we have our Phantom back?"
"No chance, there's an uncooked cannon shell in the no.1 engine. You'll have to take something else!" She answered, as she rushed over to another aircraft, a J35 Draken, which had sustained minor-
BOOM.
With absolutely no warning, an explosion tore apart the hangar besides her, and threw her to the ground. As she picked herself up from the ground, her eardrums ringing as if someone had gone at a church bell with a sledgehammer, and her balance almost completely shot, she looked over the carnage besides her.
"What the hell was that!" She asked, as a player ran out of the hangar on fire. They were one of the lucky ones, she thought as they put themselves out in the snowdrifts beside hangar no.4 - another player had been seated in an F-11A that had been almost completely destroyed by the explosion. The only signs that there was even a person in the F-11 was a shattered helmet lying besides it, and what looked like tatters of clothing. For once, she was thankful for ACES not being realistic; she wasn't sure how she'd have coped with seeing a charred corpse lying beside their wrecked plane...
She looked up to the air quickly, and amongst the trails of aircraft, she noticed a group of suspicious contrails... rocket trails.
"Dammit, they're moving rocket batteries in. Looks like they've gone for the old, "if we can't have it, then no one can" approach!" Someone confirmed what she'd seen from the air. Bastards! They were going to kill everyone here without letting them even get so much as airborne!
"Samurai Lead to all Samurai Flight, we're ready to go."
"Liberator is ready too."
"Goldeneye to all active aircraft, destroy those rocket batteries! Liberator, Samurai, cleared to go now!"
With radio quickly placed in pocket, Lisbeth rushed over to the undamaged hangar. If nothing else, she couldn't stay on the ground and let the Belkans keep bombarding them with rocket fire! They'd all be dead before they had a chance to do anything, and whilst her pet project might not have rockets or bombs at the moment, there was no reason she couldn't act as a forward air controller for the fast jets...
"Solitaire Two, we've got a new problem! More transport helicopters coming in, and this wave having gunships escorting them!"
"Kureha, can you-"
"Not unless I'm shooting them with my handgun."
Inside the hangar, she looked over to her pet project – a World War Two Era A-1 Skyraider - and grinned. Well, she stood a better chance of destroying them than anyone in a fast jet, she supposed… ''Goldeneye, this is Lisbeth. I'm going after the helicopters. Give me two minutes to get airborne.''
The A-1 was certainly a sight to see in ACES; a large, single-engined, low wing monoplane powered with an R-3350 18-cylinder radial engine, originally designed as a jack of all trades for the US Navy – dive bomber, torpedo bomber, attacker, replacing earlier aircraft designed for those roles specifically. To Liz though, the Skyraider, or SPAD as it was commonly known, was a brilliant example of her life motto; don't write something off, just because it isn't brand new.
The Skyraider she was in was apparently twenty years old, and had seen action during the last days of the last Osean-Belkan War in the 1940s, flown by a legendary ace, who'd chosen it specifically for a last gambit to destroy Belkan leaders at a conference…
And that was why she'd planned to restore it as her own personal plane, though she reckoned that might be a bit optimistic after today. If the Skyraider even survived today, she would be extremely impressed, she thought as she rushed through the start up sequence for the R-3350, reciting every step by memory, and watching as the big four bladed paddle prop in front spun into life, grinning slightly as it did.
In her haste, she'd ignored that this should've been a momentous thing for her; the first time she was going to actually fly the SPAD... and it was in defence of Rechlin.
Still, she quickly taxied the A-1 out of the hangar, and taxied to the runway as fast she could. The rockets may have halted briefly, but that was no doubt to reload, and she really didn't fancy seeing the carnage wrought by the next volley.
On the runway, she opened the throttles, and the R-3350 roared to full power, pulling the large aircraft as it thundered down the runway. ''Lisbeth- err, Blacksmith – I'm going.'' It didn't take long to get the prop driven attacker into the air, and as she climbed above the haze and smoke of the base, she could see just how big of a problem they had - alongside their attempts at countermeasures. Radar guided AAA guns and M163 air defence vehicles were being moved into position, but as long as those gunships remained in play, they were vulnerable...
Swinging the Skyraider towards the small dots in thei air, she spotted the first wave of choppers closing in – Mi-6 ''Hook'' transports, alongside Mi-8 ''Hip'' transport gunships. Eight Mi-6s and eight Mi-8s, no doubt carrying troops to storm the base, once the rockets had softened up the air defences…
Not if she had anything to say about it!
Quickly uncaging the gunsight, she checked that her cannons were armed, and circled over the top of the first formation. Whilst the helicopters could easily scatter, she was far more heavily armed, and above all… angry.
There was a reason the saying "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned" exists, and the Belkans were soon about to experience that.
Lining up the A-1 on her first target, an Mi-8 leading the formation, she pulled in above and behind the helicopter, and fired her cannons. Only a short burst, but that was all that was needed to send the Hip into a spin and force the Hooks to break out of the way of the crashing helicopter.
''Blacksmith, one Hip down.''
"Ich dachte, sie hätten sie alle getötet! Idioten!''
''Shit, that one actually hit us! Solitaire Lead, we took a hit, but we're still in the fight!'' One of the Navy fighters shouted, as she looked around her. No sign of any stricken aircraft.
"Blacksmith, our ground units are having problems locking onto those helicopters. Any ideas?" She scanned the formation, and spotted a single Mi-8 acting differently, in that it was sticking with the Mi-6s nearby, rather than breaking formation to harass targets, as well as looking slightly different with a set of X-shaped antenna on the sides of the fuselage.
"I think I see the problem, there's a jamming Hip in with it. Dealing with it now.''
The Skyraider dove on the offending Hip, a burst of 20mm fire slamming against the side of the helicopter. Unlike before, where the Mi-8 had simply spiralled to earth, this one just exploded, its debris acting as an impromptu shotgun against the Hook next to it, which began to fall towards the earth itself, billowing smoke as it fell.
"Blacksmith, two down. One Hip, one Hook.''
"Understood Blacksmith, ground forces can take the helicopters from here. This is Goldeneye to all allied aircraft… command have ordered a full retreat from Rechlin. All pilots airborne are to make their way to the Osean Naval Base at Canaveral, regardless of rank. If your plane isn't operational, you'll be put on a transport out of here ASAP.''
She didn't need to be a psychic to know how well that was going to go down, as her radio practically exploded with chatter, very little of it happy. She could understand why, many of the pilots had just spent the past few months fighting to protect their home base, and now, they were just supposed to abandon it? It probably didn't sit right with them at all; she knew it didn't sit right with her!
On the more measured side, she knew that the Belkans would overwhelm them before too long. They might have repelled them for now, but the Belkans would've learnt a lesson from this, and not go over the lake, or worse still, bring in far more troops than one base could handle. They could resist the attacks for now, but how long would that last, and more concerningly… how many of them would it cost to continue to hold back, rather than take the chance to regroup and come up with a way to fight back…
/-/
"So that's it? We just leave, with the Belkans at the door?'' Alice had taken this surprisingly well, all things considered, Eugeo thought. Well, she hadn't exploded in anger at the thought of retreating, which boded well for getting her to actually go along with everyone else, rather than staying to fight in vain…
"Pretty much the sum of it, yes.'' He answered.
"We could hold them back for another day at least, long enough for reinforcements to arrive…''
"Alice, look around you…" Eugeo pleaded with his friend. She was stubborn and prideful, yes, but she wasn't stupid! ''Maybe we can, but look how many people have already died. I don't like it any more than you do, but right now, charging in won't do any good, nor will digging our heels in on this.''
"I… no, you're right. If we stay, more people will lose their lives, but I want to make sure the newer pilots go first. We can handle ourselves, but we cannot say the same of them."
"I agree with Alice. We've all seen some kind of fighting already, we know what to expect." Asuna voiced her opinion on the matter, as the trio of F-5As behind them were readied for flight, having replaced Kirito and Argo's Phantom, and her Wind Fleuret for the getaway, meaning they had a load that mostly consisted of drop tanks, and a pair of AIM-9s on wingtip rails. Besides them, their Mirage IIIs were being refuelled again, and re-equipped with drop tanks in place of the radar guided R530s for the flight to Canaveral.
"Okay, then we'll each take one lead for a flight of recruits. Give them something of a fighting chance, should the worst happen."
The retreat was not what could be considered organised, Eugeo had realised. A second flight of C-141 Starlifters were being loaded with almost anything they could conceivably fit on the transports; weapons, people, vehicles, planes, if you could name it, then someone was trying to put it onboard.
The first flight had taken off about ten minutes ago, with Twilight Flight taking position as escort for the transports. That flight had mostly been ancillary staff – the people who weren't really military, but did find themselves on a military base – and so, it was decided to protect that flight more so than the equipment.
Equipment could be replaced, people not so much.
According to Koharu, who was giving them a progress report whilst she was still in radio range, they'd been joined by the Navy flight, who'd received similar instructions to head to Canaveral to refuel, before heading back to their home base, and Lisbeth, who'd strangely appeared out of nowhere in a prop-driven Skyraider, and so would be fairly well defended if push came to shove.
Argo had taken point for their group, her flight given the callsign Rodent (much to her displeasure) leaving first, and heading along a southern airway over the abandoned Fort Pleasant airbase.
Kirito and Asuna had also each taken a flight of recruits with them as they left, with the plan being to rendezvous with Fuurinkazen en route, somewhere near the Rutherford waypoint.
At Alice's behest, they'd stayed on the ground until last, taking the last flight of recruits with them. The flight, given the callsign "Blue Rose", after his Mirage, would keep watch on the second flight of transports until they exited the combat area, then head to Canaveral themselves.
''Alice to Eugeo, we are passing the first waypoint. Weather is getting worse out here. The wind is rising, and visibility is decreasing steadily." Alice's flight, Osmanthius, was further ahead by about five miles, having peeled away from the transports sooner when it became clear they would be well covered, even with just his flight.
''Copy, Alice. Eugeo to all Blue Rose aircraft, how copy?''
"Blue Rose Two, I copy."
''Blue Rose Three to Blue Rose Leader, we're still here, sir.''
''Blue Rose Four, checking in. Very bored.'' He found it hard to disagree with Rose Four there. Escort missions were one thing in games, but escort missions that lasted for the duration of the flight to Canaveral were… well, a special kind of hell, he'd decided. Not that he doubted the recruits ability to fly in a straight line, and not crash into a mountain or something similar, but they'd escaped the range of any Belkan defences and it really was a simple matter of just maintaining level flight until they reached Canaveral. He let his mind briefly wander during the moments of dullness, and thought about Alice - no doubt she was going stir crazy doing nothing but maintaining course, airspeed and altitude.
That thought lasted until he saw the clouds in front of them. They were going to fly through that?! He was no stranger to turbulence, admittedly, but the many flights he'd been on throughout his life were not exactly in Mirages, but rather Airbuses... and even they tended to avoid clouds that were the same colour as an exhaust for obvious reasons!
''Umm, we aren't actually going through that, are we?'' Asked Rose Four.
''Goldeneye...'' Eugeo called, though with no response. ''Goldeneye, come in?'' Brilliant, he thought, that really was all they needed - a cloud that was no doubt the precursor to a much greater storm, with no way to contact anyone further up the chain than Alice.
''Eugeo to Alice, can you reach anyone else?''
''Negative, I am barely maintaining contact with you through this. Maintaining heading 200 through the storm as it looks considerably lighter.''
''Copy, we'll be behind you Alice.'' He changed channel on the radio. ''Blue Rose, turn to heading two-zero-zero, and maintain 10,000 feet. There should be a mountain range to our two o'clock.''
''This is Solitaire Lead, can anyone hear us?'' The radio crackled faintly, before falling silent. ''We are-''
''Solitaire Lead, this is Blue Rose Lead, how copy?'' No response. ''Solitaire Lead, can you hear me?'' Still no response as he waited for any signs of life. ''Alice, did any of your flight hear that?''
''Affirmative, Osmanthius Three heard it, but the signal was very weak. Damn this storm...''
''Agreed, and the winds are picking up too. Looks like there's a blizzard approaching.''
''Just what we needed.'' He could tell that Alice was rolling her eyes, despite being nowhere near. It was something of a sixth sense he'd developed throughout his years of friendship with her... ''All aircraft, try not to get separated up here.''
/-/
The flight through the storm was probably the least comfortable flight he'd ever had, and also felt as if it were the longest. The Mirage was not built for flying through turbulent mountain air, and the delta wings certainly didn't help on the stability front either; being designed for high speed flight, not resisting buffeting in a storm above the mountains...
Still, the flight was relatively uneventful, even if he did feel as if he'd spent an hour in the gym, wrestling with the controls of the lightweight interceptor as particularly vicious gusts attempted to throw the Mirage off course. It was at least more interesting than sitting and spending an hour with absolutely nothing to do other than keep a watchful eye on the younger pilots.
Eventually though, they'd found their way into clearer airspace ahead of the storm, and coincidentally, their radios had suddenly started working again. Whilst still limited by range - reaching Kirito and Asuna had proven a challenge that required relaying the message through Argo - they could at least reestablish some kind of situational awareness, which was a considerable improvement in his eyes.
Amongst the many calls being made to regroup, one came through from Argo. ''Alice, Eugeo, it's Argo. Did ya have any contact with Ko-chan after Rutherford?''
''Negative, Argo.'' Alice answered.
''Can't say we did, no. Why?''
''Ah shit.'' For once, Argo seemed much less ''devil may care'' and much more concerned. ''Kii-bou says they ain't heard from her since their group went inta the storm. Was kinda hopin' you'd have some clue where she is. The Navy guys and gals say one o' theirs is missin' too, their leader 'pparently. Turned to go round the storm, an' that was the last time they talked to 'em.''
''Navy flight...'' He heard Alice mumble, before she spoke more clearly. ''Argo, the Navy flight was Solitaire, was it not?''
''It was, yeah, Ali-chan.''
''Argo, we received a call from them, but it was faint and we weren't able to get one out to them. I think they'd passed out of range... but they sounded distressed though.'' He remembered the short conversation about the phantom message with dread.
''Ah hell.'' Argo groaned. ''I'll get the message back t' Kii-bou, but I think we can say they're missin' now...''
''Uhh, Blue Rose Leader, this is Three. Ronye thinks she's found something on the navigation charts - a couple of non-directional beacons in the middle of the mountains. Descending heights too, as if they were for landings.''
''Strange... why would you have a landing path in a mountain range?'' Alice thought aloud, sharing his thoughts. He took a quick look at his own navigation charts, but he was unable to spot the mystery NDBs in the brief moments he could spare looking away from his instruments and flying the Mirage.
''Argo, did you hear that?''
''I did indeed, we're gonna haft'ta check the charts on the ground to confirm that, but I'd say that's our best shot of findin' 'em.'' Argo stated. ''Blue Rose Three, ya might'a just saved their lives...''
He wasn't sure why, but he could've sworn he heard Argo mumble something afterwards, something that sounded suspiciously like ''Just hope we ain't too late...''
Regardless of whether she'd said that, or he misheard, he agreed with her. He really did hope they were onto something with that NDB theory, else they'd have seen another charred mess of wreckage after a violent crash - only this time, it wouldn't have been an airliner full of people, it would have been someone they'd flown with.
For now though, they'd need to get on the ground soon, else she wouldn't have been the only turned into a charred mess. His Mirage was at bingo fuel, meaning Alice's probably wasn't far off either, and even with the drop tanks they'd equipped, they'd emptied them first and jettisoned them shortly before the storm.
''Canaveral Control to Osmanthius and Blue Rose Flights, we have you on our radar. Fifty miles out, we'll give you vectors for runway two-five left.''
''Copy Canaveral, expect vectors for two-five left.'' He replied. ''Let's get on the ground. Sooner we're there, sooner we can start looking for them...''
{Author's Comments}
Two or three surprises here:
One - Two chapters in a month?! Even I'm surprised at my pace there.
Two - The Fatal Bullet cast make their appearances properly. Also, yes I added my MC from An Englishman in, because it would otherwise be a massive missed opportunity for me. The guy played a game called ACES in that, so...
Three - If I've timed this right, it'll go up on Sinon's birthday, meaning the first section fits perfectly. Wish I could say I planned for that, but uhh...
Anyway, I hope you've enjoyed this so far, and if you have, you might enjoy my new story set in the same universe, ACES Offline, which is set during the Rectan Conflict that is ongoing during the story.
On that note, signing out,
Midland 2541.