Chapter Ten: Long Day
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444th Air Base, Zapland.
July 4th, 2019.
0700hrs.
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Early in the morning, after breakfast, McKinsey called all of the convicts into a briefing. After having roughly three days with no activity, Naomi and her fellow prisoners had grown restless. A few scuffles had broken out during breakfast and they spent an hour or two in solitary. Needless to say, however disorganized the squadron was, they seemed almost excited with the idea they could possibly have something to do and the guards were more relaxed now that they knew that the prisoners had a more useful way to take out their anger.
Naomi followed the unusually cheerful crowd into the room that held the mission briefings. McKinsey was already there, waiting with a scowl on his face. He seemed to be taking note of everyone there, making sure nobody had tried to skip out on the briefing. Naomi watched him nod and mouth their names to himself as they entered the room and sat down. Once everyone was seated, he let out a 'hmph' and looked over his papers. The door closed behind them and the lights were turned off as the computer started up and the projector displayed the digital map.
Nobody said anything for a while, sitting in silence. McKinsey continued scanning his papers as the computer finalized everything, which took a few minutes. Naomi sighed and leaned forward in her seat. "Er, Commander McKinsey?" she asked, bringing his and everyone else's attention to her. He raised an eyebrow and gave an even grumpier expression than he'd previously been wearing, but didn't object to her speaking. Naomi nervously looked around. "Um...I was just wondering if you were planning on telling us what the mission is or if we're just supposed to watch you read."
McKinsey's brow furrowed and he let out an annoyed sigh before setting the papers down and pointing to the screen. "I'd watch your mouth if I were you, Trigger," he warned. "Anyways. Your mission is to atone for your crimes by attracting the enemy's attention." The screen showed a map of the Usean continent, pinpointing the location of their base and drawing a line from the base to a location further inland. "First, I want you to head from the base to the desert region of Roca Roja to the northwest. And then second you'll attack the large Erusean base there.
We've been unable to verify that base's ability to deal with fighters. You will attack and provoke the enemy into revealing their AA strategy. Get them to fire at you as much as you can. That way we can confirm where they're firing from." The map zoomed in on a canyon area in Roca Roja, displaying three red circles to mark the enemy bases. "Then, it's a case of sending in our regular force to clean them out. For this mission, we've prepared a frontline base that can be used for ammo replenishment and aircraft repairs."
Naomi perked up and watched as the map display changed to show a blue line off to the side, away from the three enemy bases. For a moment, she thought that maybe things weren't as bad here as she thought and that they'd be treated as an actual unit, or at least able to act like one. Her hopes were crushed as soon as McKinsey added, "However, this is not for you guys. Only the regular force has permission to use it."
"How the hell are we supposed to fight without ammunition?" Naomi couldn't help but ask, raising her voice. "Isn't the goal to take care of the enemy? What happens if we run out?"
McKinsey glared at her and growled, "Even if you run out of ammo, don't forget that you're just decoys. Nothing more, nothing less. You stay out there as targets for the enemy." The computer began to shut down. "That's all. Go and take care of your aircraft now, you'll be leaving at 1500hrs. Dismissed." The lights turned back on and the door opened up. McKinsey watched them as they all stood up to leave, and Naomi gave him an annoyed look as she followed her 'squadron' out. He returned her look with a short laugh before he turned away.
"Bastard..." Naomi muttered under her breath as the guards took up the rear to make sure that all of them proceeded to the hangars like they were told. Nobody put up a fight as they exited the main building and hurried over to the hangars. Everyone seemed almost excited, and she could easily understand why. For the first time Naomi had heard of, they were being allowed to leave the base and get a change of scenery. They were all chomping at the bit with the idea of blowing up an enemy base, after all, their excess energy had to have some sort of outlet.
All the hangars had been opened prior to their arrival, their planes not spotless but far cleaner than they'd been in a while. Dust and a marred paint job, coupled with the sin lines on their tail made it clear that they weren't an actual squadron. Naomi entered the hangar that held her plane, and was surprised to see that the others hadn't done the same. Instead, she spotted Count talking with Champ and High Roller and Tabloid and Full Band talking about something close by. It wasn't long before the group of convicts noticed her watching them and decided they'd bring the conversation her way.
High Roller led the way, a grin on his face and the first to speak up, "Heya, Trigger. Some mission we got ahead of us, eh?"
Naomi looked at them. "Uhh, I guess so?" High Roller seemed to be holding a piece of paper with something scribbled onto it. She tried to get a good look at it, but it was too messy and she couldn't make out any of the writing. "What's that you've got there, High Roller?"
He held up the paper, still smiling. "What, this?" High Roller asked nonchalantly, waving the paper around for a moment. "These are just the bets on who's gonna be surviving today's mission. I don't like to waste any time gettin' everyone's slots down, y'know?" He skimmed over most of his writing before he folded it up and stuffed it in his flight suit's pocket. "The smart money's on you, Count, and Tabloid, it would seem. Gotta say, I'm a bit impressed. You interested in earning some extra cash, eh, Trigger?"
"Sorry," Naomi said flatly, glaring at the odd look she was getting from Count and Champ. "I don't gamble with someone's life, and I'm pretty sure you wouldn't let me bet on myself." No surprise that they were betting on people's lives here, but did they actually think that it was amusing? She looked outside at the guards and their dogs, nodding towards them. "Shouldn't you guys get to work? I'm pretty sure they're just looking for a reason to throw you into solitary again."
Count glanced over at them and then rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. "You serious? They're in on it, too. They've even worked out a system with one another for the entire purpose of betting on us. Trust me, if they want the money then they leave us alone until High Roller pays up." He was in a much better mood than he had been the previous night, perhaps over his defeat by now.
"So they let you get away with anything until High Roller pays them?" Naomi asked, not entirely believing him. "That seems awfully irresponsible of them as guards, y'know. What happens if High Roller doesn't decide to pay up, huh? What happens then?"
"Then they throw us into solitary," Tabloid replied. "After which they search High Roller's cell and take most of the money for themselves. It happened a few times before, so we've gotten pretty quick about handing over any money." Naomi studied him for a moment. He was the most trustworthy person here, in her eyes. She wondered if he placed a bet, too. Something about his carefree attitude and the smile he gave her after he answered didn't strike her as coming from someone who was so greedy for money that he'd bet on his squadron's life.
"Yeah, but they always throw us in regardless. Y'all know that well as I do," Champ added in annoyance.
Full Band nodded in agreement. He put on a sad, tired look and hunched his shoulders, making him look a lot older than he was. "There's always the off chance they'll let us off easy, but that's only if the betting goes the way they want it to."
"That's only if we're real lucky," High Roller said with a laugh, patting Full Band on the back. Naomi rolled her eyes and went back to preparing her plane as the others continued their conversation about betting, with High Roller trying to convince the others to take a bit more of a risk than they already had. It was definitely going to be a long day.
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Roca Roja, Usea.
1800hrs.
The flight was short, only a few hours from the base. They had plenty of fuel to start them out and their weapons supply was alright for the time being. They had enough to get most of the job done, but they'd be out of ammo before the operation was over and done with. A real shame that they weren't allowed to return to resupply. The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, making the already red colored rocks and sand appear a vibrant red-orange that blended with the multi-colored sky above it. Shadows were casted in the nooks and crevices below them, meaning the enemy likely well hidden from the human eyes. The craters that marred the region also provided the Eruseans some cover. Luckily for Spare Squadron, they had their radars and a grouchy AWACS to lend them a hand.
Although Naomi found herself irritated by the fact that they were limited with what they were able to do, the rest of Spare Squadron seemed to be the exact opposite. Count and Tabloid were bickering back and forth about something, High Roller was trying to take more bets, Full Band and Champ were talking amongst themselves, and Bandog yelled at them all to shut up once or twice. All the voices talking at once in her ears made it hard to focus and Naomi felt unusually cramped in her cockpit as they approached the area of operations.
A few blips appeared on her radar, catching her attention. The others must have noticed as well, because the laughter and conversation quickly died off. Naomi glanced at the radar and then looked straight ahead, where she could just make out a large rock formation through the clouds where the base must have been nestled. "Bandog, I've picked up the first enemy base on radar. Looks like they're the welcoming committee."
She heard the controller scoff at her words. "Some welcome." Bandog had been in his usual, awful mood. No surprise there, although she wished that he'd lighten up just once. Quickly, he ordered, "All aircraft, spread out and attack. Let's just get this over with so we can go home."
"Wilco," Naomi answered, admittedly excited at finally having something to look at other than the 444th. She performed a barrel roll before diving underneath a cloud, breaking their strange idea of a formation and putting her well ahead of her wingmen. "I guess we should go out and have some fun, right? Since we're in enemy territory, I'd suggest you all be careful and don't let your guard down. Let's not give McKinsey and those assholes at the base the satisfaction of being rid of us. Don't wanna let them off that easy, do we?"
A few laughs followed the rhetorical question as the rest of the squadron all descended to move in for the attack. "Just to make sure, we're clear to attack, right?" Count asked Bandog as they approached the base. "I heard the regular forces were going to clean things up. It doesn't look like they did a damn thing and they've left all the work to us." To Naomi, it almost sounded like he was uncomfortable with the operation. She couldn't blame him, now that she knew that McKinsey thought of them as nothing more than pawns.
"Relax, Count," Champ replied. "It's just like before. We blow the shit outta everything and call it a day."
"Huh. Sharp as a tack, aren't you, Spare 8?" Bandog sneered at him. "Regular forces can reduce losses if you tenderize the base first. You're here to clear the way for them. If you can't handle that, then just fly and be a target." High Roller and Full Band both gave some sort of sinister, morbid chuckle at Bandog's comment. Naomi once again felt unnerved being in the air with these guys. Okay, so not as much had changed as she thought.
Taking a deep breath, she made a move on the enemy base. An AA gun sat on the edge of the base, and not far away from that was a radar tower. Behind that, next to the runway, there was a couple of oil tanks. All they had to do was tenderize the base? Well, it wouldn't be too hard. Naomi got missile lock on the AA gun and fired, adjusting her angle to take out the radar tower. She made a minor adjustment to her altitude and gunned down the oil tanks. The first one blew up and set off a chain reaction, so the second one followed suit.
She pulled up and circled around to get a look at the runway. They were preparing a couple of fighters and bombers for takeoff. It's possible the bombers were to be sent out to the 444th, and she really didn't want a repeat of her first mission at the base. She used the gun on the first one, then moved on to the second one, firing two missiles for it. That left only one more to go, but she was too close for a good shot. Naomi pulled up and circled back around once again. In her ear, she heard Bandog say, "We've spotted some transport trucks. They're not a problem, but feel free to take them out."
"Hey, leave 'em to me!" Champ said, and Naomi could almost picture some smirk on his face. "Bullying the weak is kind of a specialty of mine." She shuddered at this before she finished off the last bomber and turned her attention to the fighters that were taxying in spite of the squadron pounding the base around them. Erusea had some dedicated pilots, she had to give them that.
"So, what are the odds of getting out alive?" High Roller asked.
"That's for you to figure out, Spare 7," Bandog snapped at him.
"Great, thanks for that, Bandog," High Roller answered sarcastically. "I mean, it's not like I'm gambling with my life out here, or anything."
Naomi heard Bandog sigh before he said, "You're going to be hitting three locations. Some have air power, some don't, so their threat levels vary." Bandog paused for a moment, then he scoffed. "If you want the odds to be in your favor, think of the best way to rob them of their ability to respond to your attack. Use those empty heads of yours and you just might make it home in time to swindle the guards. Die too fast and you won't even be useful as targets."
"Wait a minute, all the bombers were destroyed before takeoff," Champ observed, almost sounding shocked. "Who did that?!"
Naomi didn't answer, unsure how to and not wanting to sound like a glory hound. Instead, she went about the mission, trying to take out the control tower to essentially cripple their fighters and add to the confusion from the surprise attack. The Erusean's did the same thing to the IUN's forces, making Naomi's first sortie chaotic and stressful. She fired a missile and the control tower burst into flames. Another Spare pilot, one that Naomi recognized the voice of but hadn't met yet, said, "Target confirmed destroyed. It was Trigger again!"
As Naomi tangled with an F-16 for a few minutes before finally taking it out, she couldn't help but feel some pride deep down. It seemed that the squadron was finally warming up to her, now that they could see what she had to offer. It was just like with Knocker. All she had to do was prove that she was just as capable as the rest of them. Count chirped, "Scratch one hostile! Enemy base is nothing but smoke and rubble now!"
"That was fast." Bandog sounded impressed, which surprised her. "Keep up the good work, Spare Squadron. You may just keep yourselves out of solitary tonight."
"Haha! Righto!" Count chuckled as he and Champ went after a single F-16 together.
Naomi quickly took care of another plane, while Tabloid and High Roller stuck close by and attempted to work together to take care of it. It was working out for the most part, although she noticed that they had a hard time predicting the others moves. In the end, Tabloid fired the missile that finished it off while Naomi took out her own target and pulled around to help Champ and Count. Champ chuckled, "Trigger, you're rockin' it hard."
"Thanks, Champ!" Naomi wasn't able to keep a smile off of her face at her wingman's praise.
"Cut the crap, you two! There's work to be done, so move on to the other base and quit dawdling!" Bandog snapped at them. "Oh, and just so we're clear on a few things, any aircraft from the regular units that join later and need to resupply or get any repairs, we have a return line set up so they can fly out there. You guys, however, do not have that luxury."
"So, what are we supposed to do?" Full Band asked.
"Weren't you listening during the briefing?" Naomi couldn't help but ask him. No reply came, so she took it as a sign that he had barely paid attention when McKinsey told them they were nothing more than decoys. "If we run out of ammo, we're supposed to fly around and let them shoot at us. McKinsey said so himself." Naomi dived down towards the road and took care of the trucks that Champ had let slip through from the first base. It looked like they were heading towards the second base, which was dead ahead, hiding in the rocks.
Bandog informed them, "Enemy vehicles destroyed. Hurry up and get to the next target."
"You're our official flyswatter now, Trigger." Count taunted her, and she couldn't help but roll her eyes at him. Go figure, the second she starts proving herself out there, Count still manages to find some reason why she shouldn't take any pride in it. Naomi saw him take out an AA gun and then turn away from the base ahead of them, pulling out of the fight. Where was he going?
"Count?" Naomi asked as she took out an APC, craning her neck to get a look at Count's plane, heading in the direction of the return line. Surely he'd be punished if he left? "Count, is something wrong?"
"Yeah, I'm out of ammo. Don't get all pissy with me, Trigger, I'm just returning to resupply. I'll come back to help your ass out," Count replied, not in the most pleasant tone. "Surely you can stand a few minutes without me?"
She was about to make a sharp retort, wanting to tell Count that he could take his attitude and shove it somewhere the rest of them didn't have to deal with it, but Full Band and a few other planes broke off to follow after Count, leaving the remainder of the squadron to deal with the enemy. Full Band scoffed, "How are we supposed to work without ammo? They can't stop us from resupplying. I'm heading back, too."
Bandog growled, "Nice try. This stuff isn't for you guys, so get your asses back and re-engage now!"
"Okay, let's be honest here," Count replied, sounding unusually calm. The confidence was still there. "Irregulars like us aren't allowed to resupply. But in your heart, you want us to smash that base. Am I off? Well, in order to put on a nice show, we need ammunition." For a minute, Naomi couldn't help but chuckle at the 'in your heart' comment that Count made. Bandog had a heart? Okay, she was being a but unfair after seeing him with his canine companion. Still...
She heard Bandog groan, knowing that Count was right. Count was surprisingly correct in what he had said, and it seemed that he knew how to convince Bandog to let them return. "Fine. I'll inform the allied base that you'll be arriving shortly. But you're gonna wish this mission never ended."
Tabloid laughed. "Looks like Bandog's finally come around. I knew you weren't all that bad." Bandog didn't answer this, but the rest of the squadron had a brief laugh at the AWACS expense. Naomi, Tabloid, and High Roller lowered their altitude to begin the attack on the second section. Tabloid piped up again, "I finally have a read on the targets. They're in one hell of a place, wouldn't you say so?"
"Yeah, they are," Naomi agreed, scanning the cliff face for their anti-air weaponry. SAMs and AA guns were positioned all along the roads and bridges. All of this along with the position they chose for hiding made out the impression that they were expecting an attack from the air at any given moment. "I'll take out the AA guns and SAMs...umm...Tabloid, High Roller, are you guys willing to follow my lead until the others get back? I've got a few ideas so we can take care of this base quick and easy."
There was a moment of silence as they considered their options. High Roller was the first to make a decision. "Yeah, sure. Why not?" he said as he maneuvered beside her. Tabloid also made his choice, although he didn't voice it right away. He formed up on her other wing and Naomi led the way over the base and rocks to get a good look at the enemy's locations so she knew what to hit and where.
Tabloid seemed to get the general idea of why they were just following her over the base. He sounded cheerful when he asked, "Alright, Trigger, you're the boss for now. What do you need us to do from here?"
Naomi's heart skipped a beat. She was being listened to and they seemed confident in her abilities. Was she a leader? No, Count was unofficially the leader. She couldn't let a brief moment of giving orders go to her head and cloud her judgement. "Okay...Tabloid, think you can handle the fighters that are about to take off? They might pick up the rest of the squadron when they come back and cause some trouble for them. High Roller, I want you to take care of the rest of the base. If anything slips through Tabloid's run, I want you to chase after it as well. Do you think you've got it? If not, then..."
High Roller interrupted her with a hearty laugh that caught her off guard. "Relax, Trigger, we can handle it. Seems like a pretty solid strategy, right, Tabloid?" She saw him break off from her wing and dive towards an enemy control tower, taking care of the base just like Naomi had asked.
"I have to agree with High Roller," Tabloid said, although he didn't leave the formation right away like High Roller had. "I gotta good feeling about you, Trigger." With that, he veered off from their formation and circled around to get visual on the taxying fighters. Naomi couldn't help but smile at this as she watched him fly in a different direction to take on the task she'd given him. He and High Roller weren't so bad after all.
She went back towards the direction of the annihilated section as if she was going to return to it, but turned and lowered her altitude to take out the AA guns and the SAM sites throughout the narrow area. By the time Naomi was finished and had gone to join High Roller, Count and the others had already reentered the combat area and they wasted no time assisting High Roller and Naomi in the annihilation of the enemy base. Naomi chuckled, "I was wondering when you guys were coming back. Did you guys stop for a fruit cocktail or something on your way back?"
"Very funny, Trigger. You're just full of jokes, aren't ya?" Count replied as he took out a warehouse, pulling up to handle an Apache that was attempting to get a lock on him. The helicopter burst into flames. He climbed up to join Naomi, who was trying to get a view of the damage done to the base, the smoke and fire making it difficult. "I heard that you were taking charge in my absence, but I'll take it from here."
"Spare 15, Spare 2, what the hell are you two dumbasses doing? Neither one of you are in charge, Count. I give the orders around here," Bandog spat at them and Naomi bit her tongue to keep from replying. "Hostiles in your area are nearly wiped out, so move on to a more crowded area." She heard him scoff again and add, "And do us all a favor and try to catch some more lead out there, got it?"
"Aww, you're giving me another chance? Must be my lucky day." Count gave a short laugh and he and Naomi veered away from the burning base below them and headed towards the next area that showed on their radar. Several blips were scattered across it, but Bandog did tell them to head to a crowded, enemy rich area. No problem there. The rest of the squadron was more than happy to follow them.
"The enemy base is divided into three sections," Bandog reminded them coldly. "You did nothing more than help destroy one of them before running off to resupply. Why are you acting like some bigshot, Count?" Count didn't dignify Bandog with a response, either too upset or unwilling to give in.
Full Band, who was trailing behind with Tabloid and another squadron member, snorted with amusement. "Besides, Trigger's the one who did most of the work."
"I just took out the bombers," Naomi admitted sheepishly, unsure how to respond to the praise. She was starting to have a love-hate relationship with being the center of attention, not that she was ever a fan of it to begin with, but she was becoming less of one.
"You did a bit more than that, kid," Full Band replied, another chuckle following his words.
Bandog cut in, "And why are you so proud of that Full Band? Pipe down and get back to work already." Just when Naomi was starting to think Bandog wasn't so bad, he went and started acting like a jerk once again. Not that she could really blame him. She didn't want to be here any more than he did, and it would seem that he probably wanted to get back on the ground and spend time with his dog.
Not wanting to get thrown in solitary for not obeying orders, she pushed Bandog's attitude to the back of her mind and hurried to make a move on the enemy base. She had chosen the only special weapon that they had available for her plane. It wasn't anything advanced, but it was enough to take out the enemies on the ground. Maybe she couldn't use them to take out the enemy en masse, but if she worked fast enough and kept an eye on her reserves, then she might not have to turn back and resupply, however tempting the idea of a break was.
"I wish these Erusean bastards weren't hiding like this. Damn cowards. I don't wanna die kissing the ground like an idiot!" Champ spat as the squadron scattered and began attacking small portions of the base. Most of them spent way too much time with one target, although she did notice they were getting a bit more organized. Champ was continuing to prove himself to be the most gung-ho out of the group, as well as the most bitter towards the Eruseans for whatever noticed he didn't rely on his missiles as much as they did, preferring to chase the ground targets down and fire at them with the guns. In a rocky area like they were in now, Naomi wondered if he was too reckless. No surprise he got thrown into the penal unit, though. The guy was a danger to himself and others from the looks of things.
"Y'know, I never was any good at hide-and-seek," Full Band said as he lazily maneuvered his plane down towards the enemy warehouses. Naomi saw him fire a missile and then pull up just as it exploded. Naomi switched to her special weapons and made a move for the massive gas tanks that they'd positioned dangerously close to their AA guns and a couple of hangars. She fired the guided bomb at the first tank, which blew up and as expected brought the other with it. The fire then spread from there, taking out two other targets with it. Full Band spoke up again, "Pfft. Trigger, you make it look so easy. Quit showing off already!"
"Does anyone besides Trigger think they can hit the target?" Tabloid challenged his squadron.
"Yes," came Count's reply.
Naomi grinned at this as she circled around the base to pick out her next target. She heard High Roller sigh suddenly. He sounded tired when he finally spoke, "I know the base commander makes a big deal whenever a new mission comes in, but lately it's just been one after the other. Like that was the plan all along or something. It's really getting tiring, y'know?"
"Battle doctrines," Tabloid explained simply, starting to sound agitated just talking about it. "If something happens, they tell you what to do next. Osea has one and it probably even says where and when pawns like us will die."
"Wait, so you mean they already know the next strategy?" Full Band asked, somewhat skeptical.
Naomi was trying to focus on the base, but what they were talking about was an interesting bit of information. "Well, it makes sense," she said. "At least for regular units, anyways. Everything could change in an instant, though, so they probably will be looking at their options before they decide to send us in. Can't help but wonder what the next one is gonna be."
"Hold up, hold up, now! Before we start getting ahead of ourselves, let's make a bet. Whoever guesses the next strategy wins." High Roller sounded much happier, obviously perking up now that he had something to bet on. "You know, you can get in on this too, Bandog."
Bandog gave an indignant harrumph at this. "Maybe you guys need to cool your heads off —" there was a pause as he finished his sentence in a much darker tone "—in solitary." Obviously solitary was the go-to method for keeping them all in line. If only Bandog had the same threat hanging over his head, although Naomi figured that if he did, then he'd be even stricter and meaner than he already was, just to make sure they didn't screw up. Of course, with McKinsey as a commanding officer, he probably got yelled at just the same.
"Well, let me look into this...'doctrine' thing," Full Band said quietly, ignoring Bandog's threat. Obviously, he wasn't worried. "I have some other things to check out, anyways, so I'll just kill two birds with one stone. It shouldn't be too hard."
Another pilot scoffed at this. "Man, you're delusional."
"Full Band, he's got a point," Naomi said carefully. "HQ is guarded 24/7, and that's where all the information is going to be. How do you expect to get in there and get that information?"
"A bribe is all ya need to look into a terminal, Trigger," Full Band replied confidently. "After that, it just gets easier and easier. It's amazing how many people write their password on a note by their desk. Gathering intel is all about getting access, simple as that." Naomi was only half listening to him as she continued to fire at the enemy base, taking care of a tank. Full Band was getting distracted by the conversation and hadn't done as much work as the rest of the squadron.
As a tank burst into flames, she heard High Roller shout, "Would ya look at that! The murderer's done it again." Any joy she might have gotten out of how impressed he sounded immediately faded upon hearing her newest nickname. Sure, he didn't mean anything by it, but why did it roll off their tongues so easily? Naomi couldn't help but wince. It wasn't true. She wasn't a murderer. To keep herself in check, she fired a missile at a SAM and watched it blow up, tired of the warning blaring in her ear.
Naomi pulled up and leveled out, able to see a few dark spots against the sky, flying in a formation. Were they birds? They looked too big and too fast. Naomi checked her radar. Sure enough, something was showing up. Please don't let them be drones, please... "Uh, Bandog, I've just picked something up on radar. They could be...um...aircraft of some sort, but they're pretty small. Can you verify?"
Bandog barely took a minute to answer. "You're right, Spare 15. Aircraft are approaching at high speed! Bearing 280, stay alert!" Naomi clenched her teeth and felt sweat forming on her forehead as she waited for Bandog's voice, lacking in urgency, to come again. She felt her throat tighten as the exact words she didn't want to hear suddenly came, "They're drones."
"Shit!" Naomi snarled almost immediately in response, wanting so desperately to punch something or to just go somewhere and shout and take her anger out verbally until her throat burned from the effort. She hated those damned drones. Every time they showed up, everything went to hell and she had to deal with the aftermath. "Damn, this is just my luck..."
"Ah, so these must be the infamous drones," Full Band said, ignoring Naomi's brief outburst.
"They can dogfight without pilots?!" someone asked, and Naomi rolled her eyes at his ignorance.
"Erusea started using them at the beginning of the war," Naomi explained, trying to keep her voice level. It wasn't working too well and she was aware that the others could pick up on her anger. She could see the drones approaching, getting closer and closer, practically handing out death certificates. If the IUN's pilots with years of experience were barely match for them, Spare Squadron would be easy pickings. "If I remember correctly, the idea is for them to best and ultimately replace pilots in combat in an attempt to 'reduce casualties', whatever the hell they mean by that..."
"That's some dystopian sounding shit right there. Machines are not replacing humans!" Champ insisted, although he didn't sound convinced of his own words. Naomi could hear fear creeping into his voice and was suddenly concerned for the wellbeing of those around her. Sure, she barely knew them, but she'd already lost her freedom thanks to these drones and watched two squadrons go down. If she wanted them to trust her then she had to make sure they made it out alive. Would they make it out?
Bandog snapped her out of her thoughts. "Oh, calm down, you morons. They're just obstacles in your way. Don't forget your original mission, alright? Focus on the enemy base. Understand?"
"Bandog, I've faced these things in combat before," Naomi said, hoping to convince Bandog to let them withdraw and reduce casualties. "They aren't going to let up. It's going to make this mission impossible!" Of course any losses from their squadron would be minor inconveniences to the top brass, although Naomi believed that any losses to their squadron would be a loss to McKinsey.
"Yeah, it's bad enough just dealing with the surface," Full Band added.
"Here's how it works," Bandog sneered. "You do whatever missions we give you and follow whatever orders we give. You've already done a fair amount of work to their ground units, but I see some of you still have ammo. So what you're going to do is continue the attack. Keep yourself nice and exposed until I say otherwise. Now shut up and take care of the enemy." Suddenly, Naomi knew what she wanted to punch. Or rather, who.
Nonetheless, she gritted her teeth and continued with the attack, moving on with the others towards the last section of the base. It didn't take long for her to notice that the rest of Spare was hesitating to rejoin the attack, a few of them flying at a high altitude, away from the fighting, as if they were trying to decide whether or not they were going to obey the order. A few of them were hiding in the clouds, but the rest slowly rejoined the attack.
"Did the jailer know about the shit storm he was sending us into?" Full Band demanded as he began to attack the enemy base again, however unenthusiastic it was.
"Penal units are just pawns," Tabloid reminded him with a sigh.
"That lying son of a bitch!" Champ spat, bringing words to Naomi's own feelings. Apparently she wasn't the only one pissed off by the situation, no surprise there.
"Don't pretend like you deserve any better!" Bandog yelled at them. "Do you want McKinsey on your asses? Because I don't! Continue with the operation now!"
Naomi groaned with frustration as she took out the enemies hangars. There was a lull in the conversation as they evaded missile locks from the drones and followed their orders. It was getting frustrating, not knowing if the missiles were coming from the ground or the air. She did notice that High Roller, Count, and Full Band were trying to handle the air, taking out helicopters before quickly returning to the ground forces. Naomi saw them firing at the enemy SAMs while she took out the radar tower.
She felt a chill run down her spine as Count let out a bitter laugh. "You really are good at murdering people, Trigger," he taunted and Naomi clenched her fist, positive that her knuckles were turning white at this point. Did Count and Bandog live to make her life at the 444th as miserable as possible? "Too easy for someone who's used to killing presidents."
"Ex-presidents," Full Band corrected him unenthusiastically.
"So, what's the difference?" Count almost hissed, not happy about being told he was wrong. Before anyone could answer — and Naomi so desperately wanted to — she heard him say, "Whatever, she's still got three sin lines, ex-president's murder or not."
"I'm not a murderer, Count!" Naomi growled at him. He was walking a very thin line and was incredibly close to crossing it. Naomi decided that she was tired of sitting and taking everything they said to her. She didn't take it on her first day and she wasn't taking it now, not when she was this fed up and stressed out with everything going on around her. "But fine, believe a lie if you want to. I really don't care..."
Count said nothing in reply, and she was actually grateful in a way. Naomi looked up at the drones and then tilted her plane to the side so she could see the damage done to the base. For the most part, they could probably let up on the base for a little while. Her blood ran cold and she immediately straightened out her plane when she heard High Roller suddenly radio for help. "This is Spare 7 — aww, shit! Someone get this enemy off my tail!"
"I can't, I've got my hands full, too," Count replied and Naomi saw him go after another enemy helicopter. "Trigger, go help him out!"
She sputtered, trying to find the words. She couldn't get to him in time, there just wasn't a way. Naomi saw the drones swarming around him in the distance, just like they had done with Harling's aircraft. She reacted fast and tried to get to him before the drones decided it was time to finish him off. The second she heard one of the others shout, "High Roller! Missile! Shake it off!" she knew that she was too late.
"Goddamn it, I'm hit!" High Roller yelled, growing more and more frantic with each word. Naomi was almost there...if he could just hold on for a few more seconds, then he just might make it out of it. "Don't worry, I'm still at the table!"
"High Roller! Missile! Another one!" Tabloid cried out, and Naomi noticed that he had followed Naomi to go help out their wingman. "Evade, High Roller!"
"Heh...I've got a bet on me getting out of this —" High Roller's last words cut to static as the missile struck his plane and Naomi watched as his plane began falling to the desert ground below. It wasn't long before the rest of the squadron became aware of the loss and confused chatter broke out. It was her fault, wasn't it? If she'd spent less time sightseeing then he'd be alive.
"Hey! Someone's down!" Champ shouted nervously. "Who is it?!"
"It's High Roller!" Tabloid answered, his tone something close to a mix of despair and fear. "He's been taken out! The drones killed him...Trigger and I couldn't reach him in time!" Now he was starting to sound angry, possibly with himself. Naomi didn't know how to feel. She'd watched Skeleton Squadron drop one by one at the hands of these machines before the remainder were trapped by the Arsenal Bird's shield. For some reason, this was different though. Was she angry? Sad? Did she even care about High Roller at all? It isn't like his death affected her...
"Don't piss your pants over one aircraft being down," Bandog scolded.
"Hey, what happens to a bet when the banker's out?" Full Band asked and Naomi finally was clear as to what she was feeling. Disgust and anger. Never mind the fact that their wingman had just died, all that mattered was the money that they bet, apparently.
An annoyed reply came from one of their other wingmen. "It's voided, you moron."
Naomi let out a growl of frustration and began to tangle with the drones, Tabloid and one other wingman right behind her. The drones were quick, evading every missile fired at them, managing to get behind them before they even knew what was going on. Evidently, they'd gotten better since her last run in with them. Suddenly, Tabloid shouted, "Damn it! Another man down! They got him!"
The rest of the squadron was starting to panic. "Shit, they've even got fighters getting ready to take off from that tunnel! There's no point in staying!" Full Band said. "Retreat!" Naomi saw him and Champ break off from the rest of them, careful to avoid the drones as they began to run away. Something that he said caught her attention, though. They had fighters taking off from within the tunnel? Naomi fired a missile at a drone and she finally managed to destroy it.
"Follow your orders! Continue the operation!" Bandog shouted at them as they began a retreat. "Deserters will be punished!"
"This isn't even a fight, it's a sacrifice! You wanna lose all your pilots?" Champ snapped at him.
"Shut up!" Bandog spat. Naomi was finding it difficult to focus with the two of them going at one another.
"Try and stop me!" Champ replied. By now, Naomi could no longer see them in the sky. They weren't coming back.
"If anyone wants to die, let 'em," Full Band said with an air of superiority. It's as if he thought that retreating was the right option. McKinsey would have a ball with these guys. They'd probably spend the entire night in solitary, or longer if Naomi had learned anything in the time she'd been with them. She continued to battle with the drones, slowly making her way back to the enemy base to verify Full Band's claim about the fighters.
"Well I'm getting behind Trigger," Tabloid said as he formed up on her wing like he had at the start of the mission, covering her tail and chasing off any drones that got a lock on her. "Stick with the best if you want to survive." Naomi once again felt embarrassed by the compliment, although she didn't have time to think on it for too long with the enemy continuing to swarm. Those drones acted like cockroaches, which also meant it wasn't too hard to squash them if you were able to keep them from scurrying away. Easier said than done.
"Poor decision on your part," Count snapped at Tabloid. "I've still got top score." Bullshit.
"Count?" Tabloid let out a cold laugh at this, and even Naomi couldn't help but be amused by the obvious lie. "Man, you're useless."
"Everyone knows you inflate your numbers," Champ added in. Count went silent again, and Naomi could picture the look on his face almost perfectly. Still, she felt bad for him. Getting called out in front of everyone was embarrassing, but it was also life in the military. He was probably used to it by now.
"Champ, Full Band, shut up and engage or face punishment!" Bandog snapped, and Naomi had the feeling he wasn't going to let that go anytime soon.
"Keep yappin' away, little guard dog," Champ taunted the AWACS. "Your little mutt back at base must be furious that you waste so much time barking!"
Bandog's voice was dark and bitter as he growled at Champ, "You'll pay for this..."
"Well, looks like we're the only ones having fun out here," Count scoffed as he joined them to take on the drones. Naomi flew right past him as she headed towards the enemy base below, spotting the tunnel Full Band mentioned and a Gripen that was taxying. She got a lock and took it out, pulling up and circling back around. Count briefly got her attention, "Trigger! The one with the highest score wins. Let's settle who's best once and for all."
"You're on, Count!" Naomi replied, her confidence returning. She lowered her altitude and adjusted the angle of her plane as she approached the tunnel. She was taking them out before they could take off and cause them even more trouble. Then she'd worry about the drones. For now, it seemed Count and Tabloid had it handled just fine. Taking a deep breath, she got into the tunnel. It was high enough that there was enough space between her and the planes down below. She got a lock on the first one and fired. One down, two to go.
Obsessively checking her speed and working to keep her Falcon at a decent angle, she felt sweat pouring down her face and could hear how shaky her breathing had become. Finally she'd finished taking care of the enemy planes in the tunnel, squinting as she flew through the smoke from the explosion, some of the debris scraping across her plane. She still had to get out of the tunnel. "Uh, is Trigger still alive?" she heard Count ask, but she was too busy trying to get her breathing under control and get out to respond.
"Trigger crashed, pfft. Drueling idiot!" Bandog growled, almost sounding disappointed.
"No...she went into that tunnel! Ha! She's crazy!" Tabloid said, and she could hear the amazement in his voice.
The exit was right there, she just had to hold on a little longer. As soon as she cleared the tunnel and saw the open sky above her, she abruptly pulled up and let out a joyful cry, surprised she had actually managed to pull that off. Her breathing was still a mess, but she managed to exclaim, "WHOOOOHOOO! YES! Hahaha! Did you guys see that? I can't believe I just did that! That's flying, right there! Oooh, shit...that was amazing!"
"You dumbass!" Bandog scolded her, but even his awful attitude wasn't enough for her excitement to go away. In that moment, she'd even forgotten about High Roller's demise and Spare's retreat and was unable to wipe the grin off of her face. "You could have crashed, moron! Do you ever think before you do something?!" Naomi ignored him as she flew away from the base to join Count and Tabloid with the drones.
"You aren't like the ones who scurried back to base, Trigger, I'll give you that," Count said, almost sounding impressed. "In case you're wondering, the competition is still on and because of your reckless stunt you've got some catching up to do."
"Not a problem," Naomi chirped, her energy restored. She wasted no time chasing down a drone, keeping on its tail and firing a missile at it. The missile struck and the drone was down. Now she just had to find a way to do that times about twenty. The longer it took, the more difficult to hit the drones seemed to be getting. She wasn't planning on letting them get away that easily. The drone kept trying to get on her tail, and each time Naomi would manage a High G turn to get it off. Finally she managed to get a lock and immediately fired the missile. She smirked as the drone suffered the same fate High Roller and the other Spare Squadron pilot had.
"Spare 15 downed another! Counting the one from earlier, that's three!" Tabloid announced cheerfully. Naomi rolled the plane and chased down another, taking it out with ease before moving onto the next. Within a few seconds it was down. She heard Tabloid speak again, his voice kind and encouraging, "Wow! Nice job, Trigger! That's five!"
"Thanks, Tabloid," she said with a smile. Naomi moved on to the next target, which was proving more difficult than the others had been. Could drones taunt people? Because she felt like it was rubbing it in her face how maneuverable it was.
"I've shot down six," Count said smugly.
To Naomi's surprise, it was Bandog who spoke up, "Bullshit. You're still on two!" Naomi held back a laugh at this, trying not to lose the drone.
"Hey! Are you sure your radar's working right?" Count demanded, and she heard Tabloid laugh at this. Even she couldn't help but join in. The three continued to follow orders and engage, focusing on the drones rather than the base. There wasn't much left of the base, actually, other than rubble and fires. There were a few Erusean's that had managed to retreat, but they weren't going to chase them down. Count chuckled, "Y'know something? I'm finally finding my groove. If only I could bring a radio to lift my spirits..."
Naomi chuckled as she finally took down the drone and moved onto the next. "Uh...Count, please tell me you aren't planning on singing to make up for it?"
Tabloid laughed, however Count didn't seem to find the humor in what she said. "Hardy-har, Trigger," he said, his sarcastic laugh a rather unimpressive reaction. "Tell me, did you ever consider being a comedian? Because I can see why you aren't one." Unlike him, Naomi was able to laugh at herself. Okay, so Count was pretty good at roasting people. Naomi could appreciate his jokes.
The missile warnings started to blare in her ear again. Once again, Bandog surprised her by shouting, "On your ass! Evade already, Spare 15!"
Naomi narrowly missed getting hit by the drone's missile and maneuvered around it to give it a taste of its own medicine. "Hey, Bandog!" she called out as she did this. "Was that concern that I heard in your voice?" Bandog grumbled something in reply and she simply laughed as she worked to get a lock on the drone. Finally she got one and fired at it. The missile thankfully hit its mark and the drone was out of commission.
"Seven down!" Tabloid laughed as he took out his own target. "That's more than an ace!" In spite of being outnumbered, it would have appeared that the three remaining Spare pilots had the upper hand. Tabloid was making quick work of the drones, same as Naomi and Count, focusing on keeping them off his wingmen while they fought. It wasn't long before Naomi heard Tabloid call out the next and final kill Naomi got, "Spare 15 is cleaning up! Ten crafts down!"
The rest of the drones started to head back, and Bandog announced, "Okay. You've hit the enemy base enough. The operation is complete. Head back." Bandog took a deep breath before he added, "I never thought I'd say this, but you did one hell of a job out there, Spare Squadron. The bastards who flew off are going to wish they were never born. You guys get a pass."
"Damn right..." Count said as he flew in front of Naomi and Tabloid, leading the way back towards the base.
"I wouldn't be surprised if we're thrown in solitary too," Tabloid said sadly, the exhilaration fading away and returning the squadron to their usual mood.
Full Band suddenly shouted over the radio, as cheerful as Naomi, Tabloid, and Count had been just moments before, "Hey! Who wants to bet on who goes to solitary?! That's what that gambling nutjob would say if he were still here!" Although Full Band laughed, Naomi found herself unable to find the humor in what he said. It was an insensitive thing to say, possibly even disrespectful to a degree. Count and Tabloid didn't react either.
Bandog quickly took notice of this. "Oh, c'mon! Where's your sense of humor, guys? Your buddy's making a joke. Laugh already." Naomi huffed in annoyance. As if you could just laugh and be happy the second someone ordered you to. There was long pause before Naomi noticed something on the radar. Bandog must have noticed it as well. "Wait a minute...one of the drones didn't withdraw...shit! Spare 2, incoming!"
Naomi saw the drone before Count could react to it. It got a lock within seconds and fired at him. She had to think fast and did the only thing she could think of. Count started to evade and the missile started to follow. Naomi jerked her plane between the missile and Count's tail, feeling the entire aircraft lurch from the impact of the missile on her wing. She saw the drone circle back around and so did Tabloid, quickly taking it out. What the hell caused it to do that instead of following the others?
Her entire body was trembling as she recovered, but the plane was wobbly and difficult to control. She saw the smoke first. "Shit, where'd that bastard even come from? Uhh...This is Spare 15...my wing's been hit...umm...I can still fly, so I should be able to...uh...able to make it back to base." Naomi couldn't get a good look at her wing, since she could only turn so far in the seat. "Count, Tabloid, could either of you assess the damage? I can't really see it."
Count was the first to respond, almost as shaken as she was. "Trigger, you should consider yourself real lucky," he answered her and Naomi wondered what he meant by that. Surely it just hit the tip, right? Turns out, she was wrong. "Nearly half your wing got blown off by that missile...I don't know how much longer you're gonna be flying that thing..." Just like with Bandog a few minutes earlier, she heard what sounded like concern in Count's voice. Was he grateful for her taking that missile hit for him? "That was a dumbass stunt, Trigger. You could have gotten hurt."
"I'll be fine," Naomi answered, her words unintentionally sharp. How difficult would it be? She leveled her plane and tried to keep it from wobbling so much. "Sorry, Count...I didn't mean to snap at you. I can just limp home...it'll be fine."
"Not like you have another choice," Bandog muttered to her as they continued on the course home.
|...|...|...|
444th Air Base, Zapland.
2100hrs.
The flight back to the base was spent in silence. They weren't able to catch up to the others, so they lacked the safety in numbers they were used to. Naomi was fine with just the three of them, save for nearly half of her wing missing and her aircraft becoming temperamental as a result. Count and Tabloid kept a close eye on the radar in case there were any more surprises, but no more came from that. Although tired and more irritable than usual, they were all told by Bandog to report to the debriefing as soon as they landed.
Count landed first, followed by Tabloid. When Naomi's turn came, she wasn't looking forward to it. She wasn't sure if she'd even manage to steady the plane enough to keep it from crashing. The control tower started to guide her in, but Naomi wasn't ready to land just yet. She circled around the base and flew at a low altitude. She might as well finish the day off with a bang. Speeding up, ignoring her fighter's mechanical protests, she lowered the plane just above the height of the control tower and zipped past it just for good measure.
Needless to say, she got an earful while she was working on landing. It wasn't easy to stabilize the plane and land, but by some miracle she pulled it off. The tires screeched on the runway the second they made contact and gradually the plane came to a stop. Before she was able to start getting out, she heard the guy from the control tower snarl in her ear, "Go back to flight school already and learn some manners! The aircraft seriously can't handle your shit, dumbass!"
Naomi sighed and within a few minutes she had made it to the debriefing. Everyone was already there, waiting, and she found out that news of her buzzing the control tower had spread fast. Evidently Count and Tabloid had witnessed it themselves and they — along with the crew from the control tower — had told everyone before she got there. They saved her a seat between them and Tabloid whispered to her, "Crazy stunt you pulled. Can't say they didn't have it coming."
McKinsey cleared his throat. "Pipe down. Now that everyone's here, we'll get this debriefing over and done with..." He paused and looked over a sticky note he held in his hand. Finally, he said, "You lost planes. But the mission succeeded. However, I see that some of you crossed the return line for repairs and the rest of you ran away from the fight. This will result in solitary. Take them away."
The guards immediately made a move on them and Naomi watched as all of her wingman were dragged away, a look of defeat on all of there faces. There was a spark of defiance in Count and Tabloid's eyes, and they struggled against the grips the guards had on their shoulders before they gave in. Naomi waited until they were all gone and rounded on McKinsey, fully registering everything he said. "Are you kidding me?! We did what you asked! Tabloid and Count didn't retreat but you drag them off to solitary anyways?"
The base commander glared at her. "If I had my way, you guys would never see the light of another day. You'd stay in solitary for the rest of your lives. Unfortunately, you guys are of some use to us."
Naomi approached him, drawing herself up so that they were face to face. "And we lost planes? Planes?! That's your only goddamn acknowledgement?! We lost pilots! Two pilots! They're dead now, you insensitive bastard, and all you care about are those scraps someone pulled out of a junkyard that you decided call a plane!" All the feelings she felt upon seeing the drones and watching High Roller go down were all coming out now. Forget punching Bandog, McKinsey was an even better target. She clenched her fist and prepared to hit him, but she couldn't and he didn't give her the opportunity.
The second she tensed and showed signs of getting violent with him, the remaining guards closed in on her and grabbed her, roughly pulling her away from McKinsey and bending her arms behind her at a painful angle. McKinsey smirked as he saw her wince and struggle against the guard's grasp on her arm. He stayed where he was, crossing his arms. His smirk quickly changed to a scowl.
"I see you still haven't learned how things are around here, Trigger, and I suppose you're going to have to learn it the hard way." He turned away from her, looking towards the map on the other side of the room. "You don't get the privilege of being an individual around here. You're all a number on a spreadsheet, just another unimportant and necessary casualty in war. You're a pawn and you don't matter. You're going to be joining your pals in solitary tonight. I was going to let you go free and Bandog insisted I let you and those other two have a pass, but...after you buzzed the tower and damaged that plane, I've decided not to. Take her away!"
Naomi fought the whole trip to solitary, not wanting to give in. From here on out she was putting up a fight with them. She wasn't going to let them shove her around just because they thought she killed Harling. It wasn't long before they reached one of the empty cells and unceremoniously shoved her inside, slamming the door. She stumbled forward and collided with the wall, grunting in pain. Every muscle in her body was screaming for mercy right now. Regardless, she shoved herself away from the wall and towards the door in one last attempt to fight back.
As expected, no good came from it and she slowly backed away to the wall and slid down to the dirt covered ground. Her lip began to tremble and she felt her eyes starting to mildly sting. She brought her knees up to her chest and did the only thing she could at that moment. She cried. High Roller was dead, Count almost got hit, she would probably have to retire her plane and for some reason she was dreading that...right now she couldn't control her emotions. Everything that had happened just came crashing down on her and in spite of the heat she felt herself starting to shiver and shake with every sob and breath she tried to take.
After a painfully long day she just wanted to go home. She missed her dad, she missed her family, she missed Osea, she missed Brownie...she wasn't close to High Roller, sure, but she still felt bad about his death. Although she kept telling herself to suck it up and deal with it, it didn't help her situation any.
If she didn't want a repeat of the incident that day, then she'd need to find a way to get Spare Squadron to keep it together in a fight. Running away wasn't the answer to everything and it just made them more vulnerable. Not to mention the drones. Naomi needed to toughen up and work harder to earn their respect and get them to listen to her more often. Somehow she'd shape these guys into a squadron.