Duchess

Chapter 1

4,000 feet above the French countryside, 1941

     "This is First Officer Louisa Adams with a transport company of twenty P-51 Mustangs," I said over my radio to the Allied ground control a few miles away, "looking to land on runway 24 in about ten minutes."
     Leading the formation of British Air Transport Auxiliary pilots, I kept my eyes on the bright horizon for any other planes.
     Our mission was to fly twenty fighter planes to a hidden airfield in occupied France, where they would be put into combat within a few days.
     With a company of all women, I was eager to finally show the officers that we could handle more than just mechanic work and flying from London to Cheshire.
     "This is Spitfire Runway 24, you're cleared to land, ma'am. Do I detect an American accent in your voice?"
     I smiled a little and replied, "Yes, sir. I'm a temporary Tory, until orders come from the States. And you?"
"I'm from Connecticut. Yale education didn't do me much good when the war came around, but I got a spot in intelligence, which is what I hoped for. Glad to hear another American around here."
     He gave me the coordinates for the airstrip and signed off, leaving me to communicate the instructions to the rest of the ladies in my squadron.
"This is Louisa," I said over the radio, not feeling the need to speak formally with them since it was just the twenty of us, "I just spoke with the ground control. It's a small airfield, so landing all of us will take a while. Just stay in the pattern until it's your turn, and get out of the way quickly and don't forget to account for the short distance and soft ground. I'll be the last one in the air."
Maureen Dunlop, one of my best friends and the only other officer in the group, asked, "Are we following the typical order—where Jane goes first?"
"I was thinking you could lead the way," I said with a small laugh, looking out my window to my right to see her beside me, "and help everyone when they land."
She turned to glance at me through the window and grinned. "Thanks, Lou. Jane, are you alright with that?"
"Yes, ma'am," she piped up, "I think I like it better that way."
I brought my flaps down ten degrees to slow my plane down, and I could faintly hear the rest of them follow over the din on my own engine.
These women made me so proud, and the thought of how hard they'd all worked to get to this point made me love them even more. They had each met every requirement thrown at them with determination and grace, even when their male counterparts were held to standards half as high.
"First Officer Adams," someone called urgently, "there's a German convoy behind us on the horizon." My stomach dropped.
"How many?"
Another voice piped up, "At least twenty-five, probably more. They look like Messerschmitt 109's to me."
With shaking hands, I brought my flaps back from their landing position and fired up the guns, giving instructions for everyone to do the same.
"We are not going to lead them to the airstrip," I said firmly, "but that means we don't have the choice to outrun them. Everyone-"
"Ma'am?" someone interrupted, "Our guns aren't working. Nobody's are. Are these modified P-51's or is there a switch we don't know about?"
My mind raced, and I looked out to Maureen's plane. The firing mechanisms were still intact and working fine, but there was no ammunition. The Air Transport Auxiliary had given us fighter planes with nothing to fight with. On a trip flying over the Occupied zone. Fury boiled in my chest.
"Alright. Everyone bring your guns back in to reduce drag and get ready for evasive maneuvers-"
I was cut off by the deafening sound of an explosion, and the red glow of fire behind me cast my shadow on the control panel. My ears rang, and fingers trembled.
A scream pierced my ears through the headset and I turned around frantically, trying to catch a glimpse of what was happening behind me.
"Molly is going down," someone cried out, "and they're shooting hard at us."
"Maureen," I said, "you take the right side, I'll take the left. We're going to split and then it's up to each of you to have each other's back and look out for yourselves. Don't block the radio transmissions; only use it for important communication. Split, over."
     Bullets flew all around me as I veered sharply to the left, and I squeezed the control stick in terror. I had just led these women to their death. I took a steep dive and three of the Nazi planes followed me, shooting nonstop.
     Pulling up as late as I could, I heard one of them lose control and crash into the ground behind me, but the other two tracked me even closer.
     The radio transmissions were full of screams and pleas for someone to help them, but there was nothing we could do without weapons. One by one, I watched each of the helpless planes begin falling to the earth, their pilots frantically trying to resurrect the burning aircraft.
     "Parachutes!" I screamed at them, stunned by the fact that none of them had thought to do it.
     "There are none, First Officer," someone cried, "We're all trying." A moment later, I heard the line cut off and an explosion on the ground shook my lungs. Dead.
     I felt the back of my own seat and my heart sank. She was right; the planes hadn't been equipped for emergency bail-outs yet. We had all been sent out as moving targets with every asset taken away from us. I was furious at the people in charge.
     "Maureen, are you still flying?" I said with a grunt, yanking my controls and giving hard right rudder to get a Nazi off my tail.
     "Barely," a crackling radio call said, "my left wing is on fire and I'm about to stall."
     If she stalled with a wing on fire, she would go into a spin that would be almost impossible to come out of.
     "Lower the nose, Maureen, and stay out of a roll. Just get on the ground, everyone. Please don't-"
     "First Officer," someone began to say, "there is-"
     The impact reverberated through my plane, and I could feel the searing heat coming from the tail. Bullets splintered into the metal and made piercing screaming sounds that made me want to tear my ears out.
     A piece of metal flew into the back of my head, and I gritted my teeth in pain.
     Falling rapidly towards the ground, I tried desperately to turn the dial to speak with the American at the airfield.
     "This is First Officer Louisa Adams," I yelled as the plane began to flip upside down, my head hitting the glass overhead, "We've been attacked. You have to help us."
     He tried to talk to me but the only sound in my head was the whirring of a useless engine as we plunged downward. I blindly spit out the last coordinates I could remember, and cried out as flames began to engulf the tail of the plane behind me. I was going to burn alive.
     In an irreversible spin and none of my controls working, the plane flipped over repeatedly. Blood dripped on the glass above me and I could feel my seat straps tearing into my stomach. 
     The nose hit the ground first, crushing the control panel into my legs and chest. Flames rose from the engine as the plane pitched over and landed upside down. Covered in blood and hanging by the seat strap around my neck, I blacked out.

A/N I know, I know, starting right in the middle of the action (en medias res for all you English geeks like me) BUT think of this as the prologue !! and thanks for reading, you guys are awesome !! again, shoutout to DeathbyDeathAKAMe for editing this (along with everything else I write) and for being her awesome self [our 1 year working together anniversary is this Thursday YAYAYAYAYAY]

anyways thanks guys love you