Chapter Sixteen: Faceless Soldiers
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444th Air Base, Zapland
July 27th, 2019.
0600hrs.
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Although McKinsey gave them several days to rest following the success of their last mission, it didn't feel like it was that long. Their days had been short and boring, nothing eventful happening between them. Naomi was eager to get back into the air, but no one else seemed to share her enthusiasm. Not in the slightest. Her treatment from the other prisoners had improved slightly, though. She'd been helping Avril out in the hangars and Tabloid joined in, treating her a little better. He still seemed cautious and awkward around her, though. Full Band had done some more snooping with Bandog, but their AWACS finally put his foot down and told him that they were laying low for the next few days, so Full Band was left moping in his cell after that. As for Count, he'd been making progress with his radio, but hadn't spoken to Naomi after their confrontation.
All in all, Naomi considered it a decent week. Not something she'd want to repeat, since she was growing bored with the routine they'd all gotten into. Wake up, eat, find something to do that was either work related or just a way to pass time, clean yourself up, eat again, go to bed, and repeat. The squadron was due for some excitement and another mission. Osea seemed to be recognizing them as a somewhat valuable unit, at least that was what Naomi figured. It explained all of their recent operations, carrying out missions that really were just to test the waters for the regular forces. They were still shunned and treated like they were worthless, but they had something going for them. A part of her wondered if Osea even knew any of their names at this point or if they cared. Did their families know their fate? Would anyone know their fate or remember their names in the end? Who knows...
Naomi shook her head to get rid of the thought, bringing her attention back to real life. All morning, since before the others were up, Avril and Naomi had been working on her plane in the hangar. Bandog told them that McKinsey had a new operation and they'd be briefed and sent out early in the morning, so Avril arranged for them to get up early and do some last minute improvements to Naomi's F-2. They'd had their work cut out for them after the squadron's fight in a sandstorm, so they hadn't had time to do much work other than cleaning them out and making sure that they'd fly without crashing next time they took them up. It had been hard work, and now Avril was attempting to complete several days of work in the little time she had left. But the Scrap Queen could work miracles. That's what everyone said and Naomi had no reason to believe otherwise.
At last, Avril pulled off the gloves she was wearing and wiped some some grease from her face. "That should do it," she said, patting the side of the plane. Naomi, who was sitting in the cockpit to make sure there wasn't anything in there that needed maintenance, looked down at her with a curious expression. Avril ducked under the wing and walked around the aircraft to give it a quick assessment. Satisfied, she placed her hands on her hips and looked up at Naomi. "How's the cockpit looking? Your canopy is a lot nicer now that it's been washed off, let me tell you that."
"Everything's A-okay up here," Naomi replied, giving her a thumbs up without looking up from the different switches and buttons. She couldn't help but smile a little bit, finally looking away from the controls and down at Avril. "I'm touched by all the attention my plane's been receiving lately. Hell, so long as we don't fly through anymore sandstorms, this thing'll probably hold up for the next few operations without needing too many repairs after."
Avril rolled her eyes with a smirk. "Yeah, I wouldn't feel too special. Tabloid's plane has a little extra work put into it, too," she replied, glancing over her shoulder at Tabloid's Mirage. "Both of your planes were rickety as well, but I've done some tweaking to help improve stability and mobility. As usual. So you can keep pulling your dumbass maneuvers with little to no trouble." There was a pause as Avril took another look at the plane from where she stood, as if she was admiring her hard work. Huffing, she turned around and began to limp away to fetch something, warning Naomi, "And Trigger? If it doesn't hold up, then I'm going to hold you personally responsible and you can fix it yourself next time."
"I'll try and remember that. But, only because I don't like working by myself." Avril turned around to look at her following Naomi's response, one eyebrow raised and her mouth fighting a bit of a smile. Naomi grinned and went back to her work. They sat in silence for a few minutes before there was the familiar sound of footsteps entering the hangar. Both women looked up to see the lanky figure of Tabloid, looking more than a little tired and a bit nervous. Naomi's grin faded, but not so much that she wasn't offering a bit of a friendly smile to him. He'd still been awkward around her, even if things had improved since Artiglio. "Oh, hey, Tabloid. You're just in time to hear about the new repairs that Avril got done."
"Yeah, that's going to have to wait. At least until later," Tabloid said, looking to Avril with a kind and apologetic smile. He looked back at Trigger. "McKinsey sent me to get you for the briefing. He wants us there in the next five minutes or we're getting sent to solitary tonight." Naomi sighed as he said this, lifting herself out of the canopy. She slid down the ladder, hitting the ground with a sharp, loud click as her boots landed on the concrete. She started out the hangar, bidding Avril a farewell. Tabloid waved to Avril as he turned to follow. "We'll be back soon, Avril. And we'll try and keep the planes in good condition today."
Avril held up a wrench, almost as if threatening him with it, but her eyes shone with an unusual playfulness. "Right, you do that or else you're on your own for the rest of your life," she replied, her eyes falling on Naomi. "And if you think I'm kidding, just ask Trigger. She's already resigned to her fate. Well, pretty much, anyways." All three of them laughed at this as Tabloid and Naomi departed, leaving Avril alone to finish up any work she had left. The squadron would be leaving soon, and Naomi knew that it meant Avril had to finish any last minute repairs as soon as possible or get sent to solitary for taking too long. To be fair, they hadn't been locked up for a while, but things could change.
The walk from the hangars to HQ was short and spent in silence. Apparently neither one of them could come up with any decent small talk, so they just kept their mouths shut and focused on getting to the briefing without ending up in solitary. When they arrived, all heads turned to them. Bandog was standing at the front of the room with McKinsey, and as soon as Naomi looked at him he put on an almost guilty expression and turned away. Full Band shifted uncomfortably in his seat as Count said something to him. There was little reaction from the intel officer, and he seemed to be looking at Bandog with a strange look on his face. Naomi and Tabloid took a seat beside the two of them.
Naomi took McKinsey's moment of silence as an opportunity to ask Full Band why he was acting so weird. "Hey, Full Band," she whispered, leaning in so that only he could hear her. "Is something wrong? You and Bandog have been acting weird."
Full Band hesitated, squirming in his seat again before finally setting down. With a nervous look around the room, he leaned in and told her, "Just ask Bandog when the mission is over." Naomi looked at him, wondering what he meant by that. It sounded...weird. A little vague. Why couldn't she just ask him instead? Unless, of course, he had something going on after. He was probably planning more snooping. Who knew at this point. He turned his attention back to the front of the room as McKinsey cleared his throat and Naomi didn't say anything more about the way he and Bandog were behaving.
McKinsey's eyes scanned the room, settling on Naomi and Tabloid for a moment. The computer started up as usual, displaying a map of Usea and pinpointing several locations. McKinsey spoke up at last. "Now that we're all here, I guess we can go ahead and get started," he said to them, looking around the room. "So, it would seem that headquarters is starting to view some of you in the penal unit as a valid military force. I got a call yesterday about it. It's just what the rumors, but I still want you all to get it in your heads that that's bullshit. The only reason you're here is to atone for for your crimes by carrying out missions."
Someone scoffed. "Yeah," the pilot said with a dark chuckle. "All while you sit on your sorry ass and get medals."
Nobody moved a muscle or flinched when McKinsey looked them all over and finally got to the source of the comment. He pointed at the door, snapping, "You! Solitary, now!" The guards crossed the room and pulled the man out of his chair, dragging him out the door without another word or protest. McKinsey watched them as they left, waiting until the door was shut before he continued. "Okay, now onto the briefing." The map zoomed on the eastern side of the continent as it often did. "In this mission, you're going into Erusean territory. We know the Erusean forces' communications facility to the north in the Waiapolo Mountains is linked to the swarm of drones." Naomi studied the screen as it centered on the mountain range and showed photographs of the area and the radar sites McKinsey mentioned.
He continued with a reluctant sigh, as if the next words were hard for him to admit, "Your mission is critical. You will destroy the facility and then weaken those drones. As it's important, the enemy won't go down without a fight." The map zoomed out, displaying a 3-D square of the mountain range and illustrating its area of defense. "The area is watched over by spy satellites, if discovered, expect AA missiles. Unless you have a death wish, you must use the clouds for cover around the sides and base of the mountains. Use the clouds to hide from their satellites, and you just might have a chance to shake off their missiles." Suddenly, his usual smirk spread across his face as he wrapped up the briefing. "If you do find a missile on you, head to the clouds and pray. Let the missile kill you, or crash into the rocks. That much freedom I will give. Now, dismissed. Go and get your work done."
Naomi stared intently at the screen before it shut off, carefully going over the enclosed area they'd have to fly in. It cut off, but she could picture most of the routes in her head. Now she just had to put them to practice. The squadron all stood up as McKinsey dismissed them, all of them heading out to the hangars with little enthusiasm. Naomi watched Tabloid and Count head out first, both of them glancing back as if they expected her to follow. Count said something to Tabloid and shook his head, continuing on his way with Tabloid reluctantly following. Full Band was talking with Bandog at the door, both of them wearing matching expressions of exhaustion and — for Full Band at least — fear.
As soon as Naomi approached them, their conversation ceased. Bandog cleared his throat and avoided eye contact as he walked away from the door and over to McKinsey to talk about something. Naomi didn't really care what it was. She was worried about Full Band. It was true, the two of them weren't exactly friends and Naomi was still holding a bit of a grudge against him after he got ahold of her file and spread around the base that she was of Belkan descent. He seemed to think of it as a source of pride, but Naomi wasn't happy with the information nor was she happy about the animosity it caused between her and the rest of the squadron. They all might be out for themselves, but Naomi still cared about what they thought of her.
Full Band was unusually awkward and quiet as he stood there, though. Without a word, he and Naomi left HQ and started towards the hangar with the others until Full Band finally spoke up. "Look, Trigger, I know I've probably been a pain in your ass, but I do sort of care about what happens to you and the squadron," he said, squinting as he looked up at the sky and the bright morning sun. Naomi didn't say anything to this, not entirely sure what to say. "What I'm trying to say is that I didn't mean to cause any trouble for the squadron when I told them about your dad. I do believe that you've been the sole reason HQ is even giving us cons a second look."
Naomi scoffed. "Full Band, are you feeling alright? You're talking nonsense. I've already told you: I can't get you out of here. If I could, we'd all be long gone. I'd be long gone."
"Right. After a couple of days here pretty much everyone feels the same," Full Band replied, and some light returned to his eyes. "Everyone's out for themselves, and I guess even you've got that way. But once you came here we started getting considered for more than just playing decoy. And, I guess there was some selfishness behind my snooping but I think everything will be alright after this mission. Bandog and I had a little chat a couple of nights ago. It won't be long now before we get out of this dump. I can feel it. And it's all thanks to you."
"You sound a bit dramatic right now, Full Band," Naomi said as they stepped inside the hangar, lowering her voice so that their conversation wouldn't echo and be overheard.
He shrugged it off. "Well, just wanted to make sure there's no hard feelings. Once we're free, I mean." Full Band held out his hand for her. Naomi stared at him for a moment, unsure how to respond. She was still mad at him, and what he was saying wasn't making much sense to her, but she would feel bad if she just brushed him off. How would she feel if something happened on the mission? She had enough guilt on her conscious as was. She didn't need more. With a sigh, she gave his hand a firm shake. He grinned. "That's the spirit. C'mon, Trigger. Let's get this over and done with."
"You're too enthusiastic," Naomi grumbled as his demeanor changed and he practically sprinted over to his plane and flight gear. She shook her head, making her way over to her own plane and to where Avril and Tabloid were talking. Silently, she added to herself, Let's just hope you can keep your head in the game and not get yourself killed.
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Waiapolo Mountains, Usea.
July 27th, 2019.
1011hrs.
Spare Squadron made good time arriving to the mountain range. They all lowered their altitude and reduced speed, flying in their usual, strange formation. Count and Full Band took point, the rest of the squadron falling in behind them with Naomi and Tabloid taking up the rear. It wouldn't be long before they'd reach the target and their formation would break. Naomi was a little nervous having the altitude restriction. Technically it wasn't a restriction so much as it was a suggestion. They had to stay below the clouds and in the valley in order to avoid the missiles that would be fired at them if they didn't. The only upside that Naomi could find to the mission was that the scenery was nice to look at.
The mountains, although it was the middle of summer, were coated with ice and snow, likely from the altitude difference. Although they were at a lower altitude, there was still snow in several places. Below them were massive pine trees and a scenic river. Overall it wasn't a bad looking place. It was probably a nice place for a camping trip or a hike if not for the AA guns and radar sites they'd be running into. A shame that the Eruseans set themselves up in such a place, though. It was hell to navigate, and its pretty looks didn't change this.
After spending what felt like ages in silence, Bandog's voice finally sounded over the radio. "Spare Squadron, you'll need to be careful with your altitude for this. The enemy is watching from above, so stay in or below the clouds to keep hidden," he told them, going back to being direct and to the point. Recently he'd been more talkative, but it seemed that he wasn't in a good mood today. To be fair, he wasn't ever really in a good mood, so Naomi reminded herself to stop expecting so much of him. "That means no missiles. Even you lot should understand that."
Count was the first to reply with a dry laugh. "Pfft. Talk about an enclosed space."
"Well, Count, what's more enclosed than solitary?" Bandog challenged, making it clear to them that he wasn't in the mood for any of their antics that day. "Just commence the operation so we can all get out of here." Naomi kept her mouth shut, not wanting to get snapped at. It seemed that Count had the same idea, since he didn't respond when Bandog said this. It was odd that he wasn't trying to start something like he usually was.
Looking around to see how much space she had to maneuver, and adjusting her altitude ever so slightly so she wouldn't risk crashing into anything, Naomi picked up speed and shot ahead of the rest of the squadron. Just to show off and lighten the mood, she performed a quick barrel roll once she was in front of the squadron before she leveled out and made for the first target on radar. "Trigger, quit being a showoff and stay focused for once," Count said to her, irritated as always. Naomi only chuckled at this, saying nothing as she switched to her special weapon to get a lock on the radar site.
"That's your target," Bandog said as she approached, LASM at the ready. "Spare Squadron, be sure to destroy the anti-air weapons around it too." Naomi did as she was told, slowing down and angling the nose of the F-2 up just in case she needed to get closer. She fired, pulling away from the mountain the site was set upon and squinting to see through the clouds. Although she couldn't see it, the target disappeared from her radar and a few moments later, Bandog radioed them to confirm its destruction.
As the squadron split up, each plane taking a different path to find which routes led to the radar sites without any interference as well as which ones were dead ends. Naomi veered away from the side of the mountain as Count and Tabloid flew past her, targeting the two AA guns just around the corner. There were two more ahead of them. Naomi lowered her altitude and used her machine gun to take out one of them while Count got a missile lock on the third one and fired. The next target was on a higher mountain, but relatively easy to get to. AA guns surrounded it, though, each one ready to fire at any plane that got close enough.
Count voiced some concern, but his voice was surprisingly cool as he spoke. "What if the radar isn't under a cloud?"
"Destroy it," Bandog replied curtly. "And then scurry for cover if you value your life."
There was a sigh from Count. "I thought you'd say that..." he said, probably rolling his eyes. He always rolled his eyes, Naomi realized. Why, though? Her thoughts were interrupted as Count gained altitude, breaking through the clouds to get a regular missile lock on the radar. He destroyed it without any trouble and left the AA guns to Tabloid and Naomi, quickly pulling up and inverting his plane before diving back into the clouds and leveling out again, joining up with Tabloid and Naomi once again. For whatever reason he hadn't chosen the LASMs for his Flanker, choosing instead to go with the HVAA, which made no sense for a ground attack mission (unless he was simply being cautious) and also gave him an excuse to show off.
Bandog confirmed its destruction within a few seconds. "Radar site confirmed destroyed. You're all still under satellite observation, though, so watch out for missiles."
Another sigh from Count. "It feels like I'm being watched by a pack of Bandogs." Naomi laughed. He made a fair point, there.
"Say, you've been quiet this entire time, Trigger," Tabloid spoke up, a bit of amusement in his voice. "Do you like flying while being watched?"
"By the enemy or by Bandog?" Naomi asked as the three of them all flew in a formation through the mountains, trying to find the best route to take for their next target. Judging from the chatter she heard in the background, it sounded like Full Band had just taken out another radar site, meaning they only had two sites left if the map Naomi saw was correct. It was a pretty straightforward mission, actually. Destroy the radar sites and AA guns, then return to base. Simple as could be. There wasn't a response to her question though, save for a stifled laugh from Count and Tabloid, so she decided she'd give their ever grouchy AWACS a little attention. "So, Bandog, what's the importance of this mission anyways? Erusea hasn't really set up many defenses for their radar sites, so it can't mean too much to them and if it doesn't give us too much trouble then it shouldn't give the regular forces any trouble."
"Their missile guidance capabilities are spot on. Once they lock on, you can't evade unless you head to the clouds. We lost two reconnaissance planes from the regular forces just to get the information on it," Bandog explained quickly, perking up just a little bit now that he was being included in their little discussion. He still sounded angry, but it was an improvement. "We learned that the missiles are guided by a combination of the satellite and the radar facility. So if the radar facility is destroyed then they lose their main method of guiding them and their missiles should stop hitting their target, since the satellite is more of a helping hand than anything."
It was Full Band's turn to interject, sounding as if he was in an equally sour mood all of the sudden. "Are you sure you can trust that intel?" he almost snapped.
"Who knows?" Bandog sneered. "Only one way to find out. That's why we sent you morons in. So if we're wrong, we don't lose any valuable pilots."
"Ouch, Bandog," Tabloid said in mock offense. "That's cold. We were starting to think you cared."
Laughter came from all of the pilots at the comment. Even Naomi laughed, though it was a mystery why she found it so amusing. Or why any of them did. The altitude must be getting to them, somehow, but that's what their oxygen was for. Ah, well, she thought. Bandog, however, was not as amused as Spare Squadron was. "Just shut up and continue the mission," he growled at them before going silent. The prisoners all shut their mouths, awkwardly chuckling or clearing their throats to catch their breath.
As Count and Tabloid took care of two AH-64s that were buzzing around their next target, it was Naomi's turn to fly above the clouds to get in range of the radar site. There was a faint beeping in her ear to warn her that the enemy was tracking her on radar, and Bandog shouted, "You're in plain view, Spare 15! Get back to the clouds!"
She ignored him and fired at the radar site, watching it explode. Naomi quickly pulled away from the target and back under the clouds just as the beeping turned into a loud warning that the enemy had fired a missile. The wind shook her plane as she flew through the clouds and back to safety, but it was holding up thanks to the repairs from Avril. Naomi grinned. "Well, target destroyed. Was that concern that I heard in your voice, Bandog?"
"Cancel alert..." he grumbled, neither confirming nor denying her question. "Radar site confirmed destroyed, however not all radar sites have been taken out. Their satellite is still in operation so hurry up and show the last one the same hospitality."
"Well, they sure aren't making things easy for us," Count said, targeting a warehouse and the AA guns around it.
"Dammit, they're making us do something, but just what?" Tabloid asked in frustration. It sounded as if he suspected Erusea was testing them. Not them specifically, but Osea and their air force. Or maybe he thought the top brass was using Spare Squadron for something other than decoys. He sighed. "It's a dangerous operation...but it's better than running through a minefield blind, I guess."
Full Band scoffed. "You're so naive, Tabloid. What we're doing is exactly like running through a minefield blind. But if you're lucky, then I'll tell you about some of the intel I picked up. It'll save us from this stupid bullshit once and for all."
"Silence!" Bandog ordered before he could continue, but he didn't sound genuinely upset anymore. More like he was expecting Full Band to say something. "If you've got time to yap then you're not doing your job right. Hurry up and finish off the last radar site."
The intel officer ignored Bandog's order, practically taunting him as he told his wingmen, "Got in using a trick any amateur could think of." He chuckled. "Picked up a bunch of intel."
"Full Band, that's your second strike. There won't be a third." Bandog's warning was dark, but he didn't sound as if he genuinely believed the words he was saying. Naomi couldn't quite put her finger on it, but something was off. Her suspicion was confirmed as Full Band continued to ignore Bandog's warning.
"I got my hands on a password, and after some digging around I found a bunch of stuff." Full Band continued as if Bandog hadn't just threatened him. Well, they didn't know that it was a threat for sure, but Bandog did have their lives in his hands. He could simply not give them vital information and let them crash and burn, putting it on the report as a simple malfunction or slip up and the higher ups would believe it. But that wasn't Bandog's style. Naomi wasn't sure that Bandog was a threat. He talked to his dog like she was his kid and opened doors for girls he liked. Not exactly the makings of a murderer. Then again, neither was Naomi. But she hadn't killed anyone in cold blood. And neither had Bandog. Yet, anyways...
"I'm not sure you understand what you're saying, Spare 6," Bandog said, lowering his voice to a snarl.
Full Band laughed it off. "I'll let you in on it when we're home, Bandog," he promised. It sounded as if he actually would do it, too. Apparently he had no secrets to keep. "I've said it before. In this war, intel is a life or death matter."
There was a pause as Bandog considered his words. "Hmm...I think you might be right," he muttered. Naomi swallowed hard and turned sharply to avoid the mountainside as she continued to search for the last target. The sooner they got home, the less of an opportunity Bandog had to do anything and the less opportunity there was for anything bad to happen in general. Maybe Bandog had finally snapped. Naomi knew he was ill-tempered, but she didn't think he disliked them that much. She took out a pair of AA guns along the way, breaking off from Count and Tabloid as they went their own way. "Spare 15, AA gun confirmed destroyed. Not bad, Trigger."
She found Bandog's praise a little odd. Full Band, however, piped up again in a much more cheerful tone, "You know, I'm starting to feel guilty about leaving everything to Trigger."
Bandog snorted. "In that case, use yourself as a decoy for the surface-to-air missiles."
Full Band chuckled, but then he cursed as he was forced to break off his attack on the AA guns to dodge a missile. "Shit!" Naomi had finally caught up with him and he narrowly avoided it, the missile whizzing by his wing just as he made it into the clouds. "Dammit, that was close..."
"The enemy sure is packing a lot of anti-air weaponry," Tabloid pointed out. Naomi checked her radar. He and Count were continuing to target the AA guns. They'd taken most of them out while the rest of their squadron was still struggling to navigate the mountain range.
"I know!" Count almost snapped. "I can't focus on attacking the radar site like this."
Naomi sighed, switching to her special weapons as she approached the last radar site. She got a lock and fired, switching targets to the AA gun beside it and taking that out for good measure. Both missiles hit their target. "There, Count," she said with a small smile. "Now you don't have to."
"She's right. All targets destroyed," Bandog replied, almost sounding pleased. "That's the last of the radar sites we needed to destroy. That probably put a stop to their satellite's missile guidance capabilities. Someone fly above the clouds."
"Hey, Count," Naomi said, already pulling up through the clouds. "How about you do it?"
"I like the sound of that," Full Band said with a laugh.
"You could do with the exercise," Tabloid put in.
The rest of the squadron laughed at Count's expense, celebrating the destruction of the radar sites and the fact that they could now fly freely above the clouds. Naomi noticed that she was actually the first to break through the clouds, followed by Count and Tabloid, then Full Band and the remainder of Spare Squadron as they all got back in their mismatched formation. Naomi performed a victory barrel roll, but Bandog was quick to end the celebrations as several blips suddenly appeared on radar. "Wait a minute. Hold it."
The anxiousness in his voice wasn't hard to pick up on. Naomi stayed silent, but Tabloid questioned the AWACS with equal concern. "What's going on, Bandog?"
Bandog didn't answer him as a formation of planes approached them, instead choosing to radio the newcomers, "This is the Air Force Base 444 Squadron. What is your affiliation?" There was no response. Naomi broke away from the squadron to meet the other planes head on, hoping to get a better look at them. It wasn't long before the rest of the squadron did the same. Bandog went on, sounding suspicious of the lack of reply. "Nobody told me there were this many nearby. Incoming allied fighters. Respond."
The fighters all picked up speed, maintaining their formation as they followed their leader. Spare Squadron was facing them head on, now, without a clue who they were. Count, perplexed by the sudden allied presence, suddenly scoffed. "This is weird," he said. "The regular forces don't want anything to do with the penal base."
There was the familiar beeping sound from whenever an enemy had a lock on someone. Naomi wasn't sure she was hearing things right, but her instincts were telling her that she needed to break, missile or no missile. One of their wingmen cried out in alarm, "Hey! They have radar lock!"
"But the IFF says they're allies," Count said as confusion and fear started to set in among the members of Spare Squadron.
"Hold on, now," Full Band said nervously. "Don't tell me they're barrier troops."
There was a long, rapid beeping as all eleven of the 'allied' fighters fired simultaneously. "Missile! Evade!" Count shouted at them, pulling away from their own formation to evade a missile. Naomi and Tabloid were the first to react, following their previous instincts to break formation and get away from the lock that was on them. Full Band was slower to react, barely managing to escape. Two of their wingmen weren't as lucky, stuck on the edge and too slow to evade, the missiles struck them head on and their planes fell to the ground in a fireball.
"Osean fighters, do not attack!" Bandog cried out in vain. "Shit!"
"Oh, shit! They're picking us off!" Naomi breathed out as she craned her neck to see what had happened, her eyes wide with fear. She turned her attention back to her own controls and began to fumble with them, shaking. Were they being picked off by their own allies? They were flying Osean planes, there wasn't any doubt about that. Naomi pulled a sharp turn and got behind the formation of F/A-18s. The same plane Full Band flew. So, there should be two people in the cockpit. She picked up speed and adjusted her plane so that she flew directly between two of the planes. It was just a brief look, but there wasn't any question about it. The cockpit was completely empty and on either side of the canopy there was nothing but two glowing red lines. "What the hell are these things? There aren't any pilots. Bandog, what the hell is going on?!"
"I don't know!" Bandog replied, clearly flustered by the events unfolding before him. "These guys aren't allies!"
"Are they spoofing our IFF?" Full Band asked. Naomi didn't say anything, too focused on surviving and on the actual allies they were losing. Another plane was hit as he'd tried to dodge the mountainside and a missile at the same time. It was nothing but chaos, their squadron spread out and apart with nowhere to really run. For some reason, they weren't given an order to retreat.
"Modern IFF connects to our strategic force via satellites. It can't be decoded!" Bandog countered.
"Besides, information regarding IFFs is top secret. There's no way they could make a fake!" Tabloid argued, but it clearly wasn't the time. Naomi ducked below the clouds and suddenly the beeping ceased. She let out a sigh of relief as Tabloid followed her, but that meant the rest of their comrades were still out in the open without any idea who was down and who wasn't. Tabloid announced their location and it seemed to give Bandog an idea.
"At this rate, no one's gonna make it out alive," he said, frustrated. "All aircraft head into the clouds! Get out of the enemy's sight!"
"Uh, and then what?!" Count demanded, following the order anyways. Full Band joined him, as well as the two other remaining pilots in their squadron. It was just as the rest of them got into the clouds that the enemy must have realized what had happened. But there were no pilots. How could they? The drones (there wasn't anything else they could be) followed them into the clouds. Count groaned in annoyance. "Goddammit! The enemy's working in coordination!"
"But — they couldn't...they...how?!" Naomi sputtered, not sure what to say. Her squadron was being picked off and there wasn't anything they could do. Hell, they'd probably all die out here with how relentless these new kinds of drones were. She pulled out of the clouds, not sure what else to do.
Tabloid was quick to follow her and called out to the others, "I've got a plan...it's a batshit crazy plan, but what other choice do we have? All aircraft, gather around me — gah! I mean Trigger!"
"What?" Both Naomi and Count asked him in unison. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Count probably couldn't either, but he wasn't very good at following anybody so the chances of him agreeing were slim. Naomi shook her head.
But Tabloid was more clever than everyone gave him credit for, ignoring Naomi and Count's surprise and continuing with setting up whatever idea he had. "Bandog! Can you register Trigger and the blips around her as friendlies and mark the others as hostile?" Naomi had to hand it to him, that wasn't such a bad plan. She realized what he was proposing, and perhaps the main reason he'd chosen her. She was the only one with three sin lines on her tail, and the easiest out of their squadron to identify. It was hard to miss the three, bright white lines standing out on the dark blue of her F-2. How had no one realized Tabloid was this quick thinking before? Even Naomi couldn't have thought about it. She was still trying to process everything going on at one time.
Bandog seemed to hesitate, weighing any other options before he finally agreed. "Sure."
"All right," Tabloid said quickly and determinedly. Naomi leveled out and braked as Tabloid's Mirage did the same, coming incredibly close to her wing. "All aircraft, form up on Trigger! Nice and tight!" She felt chills run down her spine and her excitement building as Spare Squadron approached the two of them. Two of their wingmen that Naomi didn't know the names of formed up on her right wing together, while Count joined up on her left wing behind Tabloid. Full Band took up the rear. She craned her neck, trying to get a look at them on either side. She looked to Tabloid's plane and Count's, able to see them both in the cockpit. Tabloid gave her a thumbs up before he called out, "Bandog, it's on you!"
Their radar displays were updated in an instant and Naomi let out a sudden whoop, hitting the afterburners and performing yet another barrel roll. She might have been borderline obsessed with those things at this point, but it didn't matter to her right now. At last, her goal to turn Spare Squadron into an actual squadron was as close as it would ever be. As Naomi leveled out, she pulled into a turn to avoid the mountain and all five of the remaining Spare pilots followed her in as close to a perfect formation as they could. They circled back around to the enemy head on like before, and Bandog asked one of the strangest questions, "Full Band, what's your location?"
"The tail end!" he called out, sounding as exhilarated as Naomi was.
"Understood." Bandog said with a little scoff at the end that might have worried Naomi had she not been so pumped at the moment. There was a pause as they got closer to the enemy. "I've sent new ID data. Enemies will be marked as enemies. Shoot them all down!"
Naomi grinned as she got a lock on the lead plane of the enemy drones' formation. "Spare Squadron, engage!" she called out as she fired. The lead drone went down and Spare Squadron's formation spread out into a straight line before they all broke the formation and took off after the drones. Naomi felt a rush of adrenaline as she turned after the next target, managing to hit one of its wings to slow it down and disable it while Count fired a missile to finish it off. It surprised her that he was so willing to follow her all of the sudden, but she wasn't going to question it. They were all finally working together like an organized unit and Naomi just wanted to live in the moment. "Nice kill, Count!"
"Righto," he said as he pulled away to assist Full Band. "Expect anything less, Trigger?" He fired a missile at the drone that was tailing Full Band before he joined up with Tabloid.
"Thanks, Count," Full Band called out. "That guy almost had me. There's no way I'm dying out here..."
"This is the penal unit," Bandog growled at him, "I decide when you die." The squadron continued to tangle with the enemy drones without anymore losses, but Bandog suddenly sounded concerned again as he called out, "Spare Squadron, projectile incoming!"
"Bandog? There's nothing on radar!" Naomi pointed out with a grunt as she dodged an enemy missile.
"Tell us what's happening, come on!" Full Band cried out as he chased the plane on her tail down for her, the two of them pursuing the next enemy together.
"Goddammit, not right now!" Bandog snapped at them as he tried to figure out what was going on.
"That doesn't sound good." Count put in quickly. He took out one of the drones with his special weapons. It seemed that him bringing along an air-to-air weapon wasn't such a bad idea after all. If Naomi brought it up then he'd just be even more smug than he usually was.
"Air contact incoming at high speed!" Bandog announced. "It's too fast to be an aircraft!"
Naomi released her flares and pulled up to evade an enemy missile. "If it's not an aircraft, then what is it, Bandog?" she asked, looking around for a sign of something, of anything.
"What do we do?" Full Band asked
"What's going on?!" Tabloid added in a frustrated and nervous tone.
Naomi bit her lip. She wanted out of this mess, and she wanted out of it without any more casualties. They had someone to rally behind, so maybe if she didn't panic then they'd stay at least a little calm. If they got too distracted by their own fear, then they'd all die. Count was keeping it together pretty well for the most part, and all of them were working together now. They just might get out of it alive. Maybe. Naomi got a lock on one of the drones, and she wasted no time firing at it. That was one less problem. She checked her radar. They only had a few left, and most of them were down.
Just when things were looking up, Bandog suddenly started a countdown. "Five. Four. Three. Two. One!" he said, sounding as on edge as the pilots were. "Here it comes!"
"Son of a bitch!" Naomi spat. There was a massive blue explosion like the one Naomi had seen from some of the tankers she'd destroyed, only much larger and much louder. It shook her plane and she could hear the canopy shaking from the impact, but she wasn't hit and she managed to pull away just in time. From the radio chatter, it didn't sound like one of their comrades was as lucky. Naomi grunted, worried more about Count, Tabloid, and Full Band than the others if she was being honest. Blinking a few times, she quickly looked around, getting a visual on all three of them as well as the only remaining Hornet in the squadron. "Is everyone okay?"
"Hrn...that shockwave!" Full Band grunted, still regaining his senses, but it seemed that he was okay. The same went for Count and Tabloid.
"Spare 4 is down!" the Hornet pilot said sadly, but they didn't have time to grieve. Naomi wouldn't be grieving. She didn't even know that the pilot that went down was Spare 4. She didn't even know they still had a Spare 4. Nevertheless, there was a moment of silence as the squadron went back to their attack on the remaining enemy aircraft.
Bandog was silent for a good while, not paying attention to their discussion or who was down. At last, they all heard his voice again. "Huh? Spare Squadron, incoming transmission from HQ!" he said urgently. "Their weapon is codenamed 'Helios'. It's a long-range missile carried by Arsenal Birds! They'll be firing again soon!"
"Wait a minute, Arsenal Birds?" Tabloid asked in disbelief. "I know Erusea got their hands on them, but they don't have that sort of weaponry!"
"Well, apparently they do now," Bandog retorted, but it wasn't as sharp as usual. Apparently he was actually focusing on his job for once. "Sending over the predicted impact zone! It's coming in hot!"
Count chuckled in spite of the situation. "Damn! You're working quick today, Bandog!"
"Get too chatty and you'll die," Bandog warned. They continued to fight until there was a different sort of beeping sound from the radar. It was duller than the usual warning Naomi was used to receiving. She checked it and there were several red circles and Naomi was right on the edge of one of them. So this was where Helios was going to hit next. One of the drones flew directly into the circle, and Naomi shook her head. There wasn't a chance in hell she was going to follow that thing. Bandog began his countdown again. "Five. Four. Three. Two. One. Impact!" The red circles on the radar turned a brighter color and flashed at the same moment a deafening rumbling was heard from the Helios missiles.
The Hornet pilot was unlucky enough to get caught in it, and Naomi had to ignore his pointless cries for help. "My aircraft's gonna break up! Help me! Help—" his transmission cut off and there was a trail of smoke visible after the blue light from the explosion cleared away.
"Argh! How can they fire like that when they've got allies in the airspace?" Tabloid demanded as he steadied his plane, barely missing a run in with the ground. "Don't they care about the pilots?"
"There aren't any pilots, Tabloid," Naomi reminded him. "They're drones."
"Even then, they must cost a fortune to manufacture." Tabloid said. Naomi couldn't argue with that. She took down one of the drones, leaving only five. Count was being chased by one and Tabloid was quick to notice the drone fire a missile. "Count! Missile!"
"Breaking! Chase 'em down!" Count replied, turning at just the right moment. The drone was slower to react and it gave Tabloid an opportunity to jump on its tail, firing a missile right into its wing. Unable to keep flight with one wing blown off, it spun out of control and crashed into the mountain. Count let out a victorious laugh as he and Tabloid flew alongside one another. "Now that's what I'm talking about, Tabloid! That was close! I owe you one!"
"Just be less of an ass and I'll call it even," Tabloid said with a tired laugh. Naomi, Count, and Full Band all laughed at this.
"Damn! Helios inbound!" Bandog called out.
Tabloid groaned in frustration. "We're screwed no matter what we do!"
"The hell do we do?!" Count growled as he pulled out of range of the Helios missile.
Naomi checked the radar. Four of them were left. She picked off the one she was tailing, leaving the other three to the remainder of Spare Squadron. Tabloid took his down easily, checking to see if Full Band and Count needed any help. They didn't, handling them with only a small amount of trouble. Full Band looked like he'd taken a hit, but he was still flying for the time being. The four of them got back in formation just as Bandog began his countdown. "Five. Four. Three. Two. One. All aircraft, scatter!" They did as they were told, quickly breaking away from one another and getting out of range of the next attack from the Arsenal Birds.
This time the missiles didn't claim any of them. Naomi looked around, making sure there were really no other survivors. It was just the four of them, but now there were no drones. They'd all be able to go home. At least, that's what Naomi thought before Bandog interrupted her silent celebrating. "Count, one to go. Go get him!" Bandog said. Naomi looked around. Where? She checked her HUD. No enemies. All allies. Had they missed one?
"One to go...where is it?!" Full Band asked, looking around.
"Bandog, where is it? I can take care of it," Naomi offered, feeling the sense of dread that she had earlier. She ignored it, though, continuing to look around.
"Count." The way Bandog said his name made it clear that the order was for Count and only Count. "Hurry up and finish him off!"
"Righto! This is it!" Count said as he pursued an aircraft. The same type that the drones were...and also the same type of plane that Full Band was flying. Naomi tried to get closer, to get a look at its tail and make sure it didn't have a sin line on it. But from the glimpse she saw it looked like it did. The Super Hornet climbed up in an attempt to get away from Count, but it was out of luck. Count fired, then pulled away to watch the rest of the show unfold. Naomi could tell he was grinning as he said, "Alright! I got the last one!"
Tabloid cheered and let out a laugh, and for a moment Naomi was about to join in, but one voice was missing. Instead of hearing Full Band joining in on the celebration, his voice was panicked and frustrated as he called out, "Dammit! Goddammit! Why does this—" His voice cut off and the missile warnings they heard in the background did too. The 'enemy' that Count had chased down blew up at the same time. It didn't take them long to figure out what had just happened.
"What?!" Count exclaimed. His tone was confused and angry at the same time. "Full Band? What the hell?!"
Naomi shook her head, pretty sure that her jaw was hanging open. "Shit! Full Band's down!" she cried out.
"But...didn't we get all the bandits?" Tabloid asked, sounding as if he'd just been hit in the face with a brick. Count didn't say anything. All three of them flew along in silence for a few heartbeats as they all tried to figure out what had happened. Tabloid was the first to realize it. "Full Band got tagged as an enemy..."
Count took up the front of the formation, leaving Naomi and Tabloid to follow him. He was quick to radio Bandog and let their AWACS know just how pissed off he was. "You did that on purpose, Bandog!"
"Did what?" Bandog sounded a little mournful and in shock, just like the rest of them, but there was no denying that it was his doing. There was no other way. Naomi put the pieces together. He'd warned Full Band all throughout their mission, and then he asks for Full Band's location in their formation. And only for Full Band's location. No one else could have done it.
"Don't play dumb!" Count snarled at him. "Full Band!"
There was a pause and Naomi held her breath as she waited for Bandog's response. At last, with a sigh, he told them bitterly, "It was an accident. It got out of control." Another pause. "Return to base."
"Son of a bitch!" Count spat at him, but turned back towards the base regardless.
The rest of the flight was spent in silence. Naomi knew what would happen from then on out. They'd all just forget about Full Band and the others they'd lost just like they did High Roller and Champ. They'd then add some of the other prisoners that had stayed behind from the mission due to either being in solitary or being a part of the ground crew to the squadron roster. But Naomi had a feeling that Count wasn't going to just take it, though. Full Band's blood was on his hands just as much as it was on Bandog's and he and Bandog would both have to answer for that.
Naomi studied the sky as they flew back to Zapland, finding an odd comparison. To Osea, they were as expendable as the drones were to Erusea. They were faceless soldiers, fighting a pointless war. They were supposed to end it. Naomi clenched her jaw. They had to do something.