Alistair Raven and the Stormtrooper in Stilettos (Book 1)

Part 3 - Chatter 19

"Incoming," Arcadia yelped, his eye on the avionics.

"What is that?" Rocket blinked, pointing out the cockpit window as a blaze of light flew straight at the Saskatoon. He immediately reached for the cannon joystick as Delilah resisted the temptation to take evasive action. At the very last second, the oncoming hostile veered aft and circled around the airship like a frenzied wasp.

"Damn show-off!" Delilah delighted as Capt Baker broke the ice, crackling over the comms.

"Permission to come aboard my ship?" Capt Baker asked politely.

"If you must," Delilah toyed as Capt Baker finished off a couple more obscenely ostentatious stunts before ducking under the Saskatoon's belly and fastening himself to his bird. Once through the airlock, Alistair and Capt Baker entered the passenger cabin to a vociferous ovation.

"Ding dong, Alice Mould is D...E...A...D!" Capt Baker championed, causing a momentary lapse of reason.

"Say what?" Chelsea hesitated.

"Are you for real?" Col Rose asked as the other Tommies barely contained their collective flabbergast.

"Hell yeah!" Capt Baker roared in a fit of delight. "That bitch is toast!"

"Yes, it's true," Alistair replied meekly, feeling guilty for the heinous wench's demise. The response was jubilation as the Tommies swept Alistair on to their shoulders and ecstatically threw him up in the air.

"Cheer down, cheer down," a bandaged Black Dog demanded. "Mouldy wasn't the worst person in the world, but she did run a very close second."

Flash signed.

"Ok...she was terrible!" Black Dog relented.

"Enough," Alistair croaked, lost for words. "We can't celebrate...not like this..."

"The boy is right," Black Dog growled, tempering the mood.

"Where's Elvis?" Col Rose enquired; Capt Baker's sombre face and solemn shake of his head said it all. Alistair's stomach knotted and in silent sympathy, the soldiers and political prisoners settled and Col Rose gave Capt Baker a consolation handshake.

"He was a good man," Col Rose sighed, evoking an air of heroism for their fallen comrade.

"Elvis wouldn't want tears," Capt Baker replied stoically.

"Alistair Raven!" Delilah screeched as she ran down the gangway in to the cabin. Throwing her arms out, uncharacteristically, she swept him up and embraced him. Then, as if a cog in her head whirred to a halt, she put Alistair down and brushed lint off his shoulders and licked her thumb and rubbed grime off his cheek. Alistair shirked away in embarrassment.

"Delilah!" he moaned.

"Don't think you're getting away with..."

Archie grabbed Alistair from behind, spun him around, planting kisses on his cheeks and hugged him tightly.

"POP!" Alistair cried, tears of relief streaming down his face. "I thought I'd lost you."

"I thought I'd lost you too," Archie wept joyously.

"I'm so sorry pop," Alistair apologised. "It was my fault!"

"No lad, it's my fault. I should have told you everything sooner. It was nae right of me to deceive you. But you've gone and done what I've been too afraid to do for forty years. You're my little hero!"

"No pop, you're my hero!"

Both man and boy held each other and for a moment, never wanted to let go, until the Saskatoon rocked on its stabilisers.

"I love happy endings but can I ask who's flying my ship?" Capt Baker wondered, tossing off his jacket and hat and bounding up the gangway only to find a nervous Rocket occupying the co-pilot's seat eyeing off various buttons, switches and knobs.

"DON'T TOUCH THAT," Capt Baker roared, swatting away Rocket's hand.

"Oh goodie, I was wondering when someone would get us out of here," Rocket said, his finger having hesitated over a red button. "I told Delilah I shouldn't fly, but..."

Capt Baker dived in to his seat, strapped in and primed the thrusters.

"If you'd pressed that red button, we wouldn't be flying anywhere!" Slamming on the accelerator and compensating for the jammy rudders, he grinned. "Time to get out of here!"

The Saskatoon roared away just as the finale of fireworks burst across the City with bright flashes of pomp and colour. Alistair found Chelsea, and together they squished their faces against the hatch window and witnessed Bigger Ben crumbling, each floor concertinaing upon itself, briefly looking like a stack of pancakes before only dust and black smoke remained.

As they fled, the Saskatoon, with blistering pace and deft piloting, zoomed up in to the clouds and disappeared off the Futurist scanners.