Three Strikes [✓]

Trepidation

He glared at her and shook his head. "I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about, Trigger," Count replied, turning away from her and heading over to where they'd laid out their flight gear. "Just suit up. We better get going before McKinsey decides to lock us up again."

She caught her flight helmet as he tossed it her way and she followed him, wearing a mildly curious expression. "Wait, but can you do that to someone?" she asked Count as she grabbed the rest of her equipment and began to put it all on over her regular flight suit as Count did the same. She continued, "I mean, if you pardon someone for something like murder then you can't arrest them for a speeding ticket."

"What?" Count asked her, confusion and annoyance written over his face.

Naomi grinned wildly. "I mean, bad analogy, but you get my point," she said with a shrug. "Maybe I'm just a little happy that I can fly at least one mission without the threat of solitary. Hell, we could do whatever crazy shit we wanted to today and there'd be absolutely nothing they could do about it." Naomi, for some reason, felt inclined to laugh as she finished with her flight gear, checked it all, and began to walk away to her F-2. It was sitting there, recently polished. She didn't even mind the sin lines anymore. She realized Count was still standing there, not making a move for his own fighter. She looked back at him. "Why are you just standing there? With a look like you've been hit in the face with a brick."

He shook his head and chuckled, grabbing his helmet and finally starting towards his own plane. "You worry me, Trigger," he replied, almost laughing.

"Ah, but you're stuck with me. So what are you gonna do about it?" Naomi called after him as she plopped into the cockpit rather unceremoniously. Not that she cared anymore. Like she said, none of the guards could stop her from it. Not like it was a problem anyways.

"I'm gonna get this operation over and done with, that's what I'm gonna do," Count retorted as he got himself settled in his own plane, leaning forward to — as far as Naomi could tell — check to make sure that his radio was secure. After a few minutes, Bandog approached them with a blank expression. Count was the first to notice him. He was still snide with Bandog, but seemed to understand that Bandog was looking to help them in some, weird way. Not bothering to mask how much he disliked their AWACS (especially after Full Band's death), Count smirked and said, "Well, I see the great Bandog has graced us with his presence. You here to bark at us before the mission?"

Bandog, who was looking as annoyed as ever, frowned at his comment. "Watch it, Count," he said, looking up at the two of them. "I just came by to see the two of you off. McKinsey won't tell me whether or not Erusea has anything up their sleeves, so whether or not they know about this operation is a mystery to me. That being said, there's absolutely no way of knowing what we're going to be running into." Bandog sighed, looking around to make sure that no one was around to hear him. As if the next words were difficult for him to say, he seemed to take a few breaths before finally saying whatever was on his mind. "What I'm trying to say is don't pull anything stupid out there. You dumbasses are the only people left to testify against McKinsey. I don't want you morons to get yourselves killed."

Although his tone was harsh, Naomi and Count looked across at each other and back down at Bandog. Naomi smiled and gave him a thumbs up. "Nice to know you care, Bandog," she said to him as she put her helmet on.

"I don't." Bandog was short and to the point, glancing at the runway where the aircraft he'd be on was ready to taxi. "I've got to go. We'll talk again once you're in the air. Good luck, Spare Squadron."

"Righto," Count almost chirped, watching as Bandog hurried away. He looked around. "Well, that better have been all of the goodbyes we're getting today. I'm ready to get in the air." Count turned to look at Naomi before the canopy closed, but he didn't say anything, only gave a half smile that she returned before they both fastened on their oxygen masks. There was a number of crew staying behind to man the control tower and keep the base in shape, so the control tower radioed Count and Trigger, giving Count permission to go ahead and taxi so that McKinsey's transport could follow. They'd send Naomi up last.