((AN: This is my first attempt at a fanfic for the Fullmetal Alchemist series. None of the characters belong to me besides my own two original characters. Timeline wise this is set after the events of Brotherhood. Any and all military lingo is either googled or taken from movies/video games. I have never served so apologies for any inaccuracies.))
If you had told me and my brother this morning that, while out on a routine maintenance run of our A-10 Warthogs, we would end up in some final countdown situation, we would have told you to get yourself checked out. It's impossible to end up in a freak lightning storm on a perfectly clear day and wind up over some rural mountainous area with scattered houses and fields. But that's exactly where we currently found ourselves. At the time of our takeoff, there hadn't been a cloud in the sky, a minimal wind from the southeast, and nothing on the radar for miles around Martin State Airport, a small municipal airport just outside our home city of Baltimore.
My brother, Captain Jared Knight, took lead position shortly after reaching optimal cruising altitude for today's run. It was a simple out-and-back mission to ensure the airframe and all components were still flight- and battle-ready. The flight was supposed to last about two hours, with the potential to be longer if given additional tasks not laid out beforehand by flight command. Needless to say, half an hour in, everything looked fine. Landmarks were spotted easily, and planned maneuvers were pulled off without error or correction. Both jets operated as smoothly as you'd expect from an almost 50-year-old fighter jet that was seeing less and less combat compared to its more favored cousin, the F-35. Regardless, we pressed on and decided to push the boundaries.
At an hour past takeoff, that's when we noticed something wasn't right. Static could be heard through our communications equipment whenever we spoke to each other—more static than usual. It was like someone had left a TV on an unused channel, producing nothing but white noise. Our gauges flickered intermittently but didn't go out completely. With the sudden onslaught of electrical issues, the decision was made to turn back and return to base to get the problems checked out. I went to radio the tower for advanced permission but was greeted by a sudden ringing in my right ear, almost as though someone had set off a flashbang right next to it.
"What the fuck was that?" I groaned, squinting one eye at the sudden audio onslaught. Jared heard the commotion and radioed over.
"Everything alright? You were supposed to radio in."
"Yeah, I'm fine. The headset's having issues. I just got a sudden spike in white noise is all. Trying again."
As I went to radio in again, my right wing was suddenly struck by what I could only assume was lightning. It was a flash of blue lightning, followed by several others. But there wasn't a cloud in sight that could have produced it. The instrument panel went dead, and my engines cut off as the bolts seemed to take hold of the aircraft. Gritting my teeth, I looked back and saw the same was happening to Jared. "Jared! What the fuck is going on!?" I shouted into the comms but got nothing but static. Not even a tone suggesting he'd heard me. The light seemed to get brighter until it was almost blinding. Finally, I shut my eyes to escape the brightness and braced for what I assumed was imminent impact with the ground. What would be said about this test run? Would they assume pilot error? No way would they think a freak lightning storm in the middle of a perfect day had brought down two supposedly perfect aircraft.
Instead of an impact with the ground, I was greeted by my brother's voice through the comms.
"What in the hell…" was all he managed to get out. I opened my eyes, not to see the skyline of Baltimore City and the harbor, but a lush rural plain bordered by mountains and forests. "Ditto. I think we died, dude. There's no way we aren't dead right now," I responded, before looking at my instruments. The GPS was out of service, and nothing was being picked up satellite-wise. It was like the entire system, except for the analog controls, had been knocked offline. We didn't even have radar—both weather and ground radar were out. "This isn't good. I'm going to try and radio in, see if we can get anything."
"Tower, this is First Lieutenant Knight requesting permission for early landing. Please acknowledge." Several seconds passed with nothing but static.
"Tower, I repeat, this is First Lieutenant Knight of the 175th Fighter Wing alongside Captain Knight. We are requesting permission to land. Please acknowledge."
Once again, I was met with nothing. "Damn. Looks like we can't communicate with the tower. But we can still speak with each other. So what's the call from here, Cap? No clue where we are, no comms, and no guidance. We were only given half a tank for this run, so we might want to look at finding a place to land and get our bearings. Probably find a map as well to compare."
I could see Jared thinking it over in the cockpit of his jet, weighing our chances and going through every possible scenario. Finally, a sigh cut through the silence.
"Since we have no idea where we are, no guidance, and just comms between us, I suggest we find a spot to land. There was a clearing nearby, but it's pretty close to a house, so be careful and go in with little to no throttle to avoid any damage to the home. Once on the ground, we can figure everything else out."
A quick nod was all I gave in acceptance before banking back the way we had come. He was right. As I lowered my throttle and began preparing for a rough landing, I could see the house below. It was a small two-story house with a rather long driveway leading to what could only be called a main road, given that it was the only one around for miles. All the other nearby roads also intersected with it. Easing down, I extended my landing gear and flaps before feeling the jolt as the wheels touched down and gained traction. To keep from going too far, I reversed the engines to assist with braking before finally coming to a stop.
Jared wasn't far behind, landing only moments after I did and coming to a stop just off my left wing. Removing my oxygen mask, I unbuckled the restraints and pushed back the canopy before climbing out and looking around. The air was clean and crisp—a big difference from the smoggy tinge of city air we were used to. It was also quiet, save for the hum of animal life and the occasional farm animal. No other planes besides ours, no cars, and no people. At least not yet. I could vaguely make out the shapes of two people hiding behind a slightly cracked door of the house we had landed near. I wanted to make contact, but who knew if they even spoke English?
Slowly, the door opened further, revealing a little old lady and a young woman in her late teens or early twenties with long blonde hair and steel-blue eyes. They eyed the visitor warily and glanced over at the loud contraption he had fallen from the sky in just moments ago. Without saying a word, the younger woman left the side of the older one and disappeared into another room. Jared hoped internally that he hadn't just made a big mistake by doing this.