Alistair Raven and the Stormtrooper in Stilettos (Book 1)

Part 3 - Chatter 21

The clouds parted as the Saskatoon levelled out.

"Take a look at that," Chelsea enthused pressing her face right up against the cold window, which she kept wiping with her sleeve to remove her frosted breath. Alistair watched the lights of Central New London begin to disappear, receding down one building, and the next, then another and one by one, the darkness rapidly fanned out until the city was finally plunged in to darkness.

"Someone's turned off all the lights," Archie chuckled as Tommies jostled each other to obtain a better vantage point all the while fire crackers exploded in blooms of red, white and blue.

Chelsea lightly nudged Alistair's shoulder.

"Not bad for a nega-tron," she clapped. "And the Chancellor is going to be mad as hell."

"D'ya reckon I'll get in trouble?" Alistair asked his chum.

"Hmmm..." Chelsea thought for a moment. "Oh yeah!"

"By the way, this is my pop," Alistair said as an afterthought, introducing Chelsea to his grandfather. Immediately, Chelsea snapped to attention and saluted and Archie felt honour bound to repay the salute, and responded in kind.

"I've never met a real Loyalist before," Chelsea beamed. "You'll have to tell me all your war stories."

"All in good time," Archie smiled, adding solemnly. "And now we rise and we are everywhere."

"Ich bin ein Englander!" Alistair declared.

"Oooh, are you?" Archie snickered, chucking Alistair's chin. "My little man size rooster!"

While the night enveloped the city in ever increasing circles, the world below disappeared. Soon the clouds thickened and the Saskatoon soared, leaving New London far behind.

Alistair found a seat and nestled in to its comfort. Across the cabin, Sunburn sobbed, hiding his face head in his hands with Shadowplay's chain entwined around his fingers, the dog tags hanging limply from his knuckles. Black Dog sat beside Sunburn and offered a few quiet words and the younger soldier hardened up, wiping tears from his eyes. He caught Alistair watching; sniffling, he gave Alistair the thumbs up and a wan smile, before tucking Shadowplay' dog tags in his pocket and began checking on his other mates.

"You're so stupid," Chelsea blurted thumping Alistair's upper arm, trying to remain composed. "That could be me crying if you hadn't made it back to the ship!" Her own emotions got the better of Chelsea and she wiped away a tear.

"Don't do that again!"

"Really? You'd cry for me?" Alistair teased.

"No!" Chelsea spat, turning up her nose. "Not now!"

"Julian?" Alistair suddenly remembered. "What about Julian?"

"Jules is in pretty bad shape. He's in the medic's bed up the back," Chelsea pointed. "He's off in la la land."

Scooting to the back of the airship, Alistair stood beside a dimly lit humidicrib and put his hands on his head in equal parts of worry and regret. Julian's abdomen was heavily bandaged, the gauze smeared with Life-Aid and stained red. There was an IV tube in his forearm, where the medic had hooked up a blood-bag and an oxygen mask covered Julian's black, glittery lips.

"Julian," Alistair panicked and Julian turned his head; he had a glassy expression, his eyes unfocussed from painkillers.

"Phew! For a minute there, I lost myself," Julian said weakly, barely audible through the gurgling oxygen mask, adding flippantly. "I think I chipped a nail."

"How are you feeling? Is there anything I can get you?" Alistair asked sympathetically. Roxanne gave Alistair a thumbs-up and a smile; Julian shook his head and sighed.

"It's too late for me: I'm off to see the great beautician in the sky."

"I think you'll be ok," Alistair soothed; the medic chuckled as she returned to stitching up a nasty gash in Twisterella's head.

"Too late...my time has come," Julian trailed off nonsensically, reaching in and removing the scrunched up, blood smeared picture of Essy from his inner pocket. "Before I forget, tell Elvis real gentlemen take Polaroids," he babbled.

"Sure thing," Alistair dimmed not wanting to admit Elvis was gone whilst Julian was recuperating.

"Our London town is burning and mice and men are running," Julian muttered. "Shine on you crazy diamond," Julian added, patting the boy's hand before closing his eyelids and drifting back off in his medically induced nirvana.

Returning to his seat, Alistair saw that Col Rose had taken it, and together Chelsea and her dad were quietly hugging each other. Col Rose ran his fingers through Chelsea's hair, softly soothing his daughter who had her eyes closed, a dreamy look coming over her face.

Archie encouraged Alistair to sit in the empty seat beside him. He slumped down, exhausted, and laid his head against his pop's shoulder. His mind drifted to thoughts of Elvis and Robert and The Brigadier V2.0 and all the others who had sacrificed that evening. This victory was bittersweet; he tried to think of something cheerier. He then remembered Balderick.

"Where's my bag?" he exclaimed, looking around and found it in the aisle and plonked in his lap.

Quickly, Alistair tore it open and Balderick poked his head out and squawked unhappily.

"Ai, it looks like yer gone and had yer wing clipped, yer daft bird," Archie gesticulated. "You're a right proper Raven of the Tower now, eh?"

Together, man and boy inspected Balderick's injured wing; there was superficial damage and Alistair scooped him up and cuddled his raven friend, both ever so pleased they had both survived their ordeal. Balderick cawed and flapped his healthy wing, making a very valid point.

"I know, I know," Alistair smiled.

"I promise...no more adventures ever again!"