Chapter 2: Things... could have gone better
I walked down the street, rifle in hand, with Cheryl, our squad’s medic. The day had been calm so far. I wouldn’t say everyone liked us, but it was more like a ‘you mind your business we’ll mind ours’ type of relationship. We stopped in front of a shop that I frequented often.
“Hey Cheryl, want anything? I’m buying,” I asked.
“Just something to drink.”
I walked inside to see two familiar faces, first was Ahmed, the owner of the closest thing this town had to a restaurant; and the second was ‘the kid,’ one of the bussers he had on staff. I never did learn how to say his name correctly, I digress. Many eyes fell upon me in both disgust and fear. It probably didn’t help that I had an assault rifle, grenades, and a pistol all on my person.
“Ah, Mr. Drew, what do I owe the pleasure?” Ahmed asked from behind the counter.
“Hey Ahmed. I’m just stopping by for a bite to eat; some food to go and two Cokes. You know you’re one of the few people that actually make goat meat delicious, you know that?”
“Ah Mr. Drew, you flatter me.”
“No, really I mean it. But while you’re getting the order done,” I give him some cash, “is the kid around?”
“Yes, he just brought back some dishes.” He called out in Arabic towards the back. Soon enough the kid appeared from the kitchen.
“Mr. Briggs, nice to see you again,” he said giving me a ‘man hug.’
“Hey there kid, nice to see you too. How are your brother and sister?” I replied breaking the embrace.
“They are doing fine. I must thank you again for helping me get this job.”
“No problem, none at all,” I replied with a smirk on my face. So it was 3 months ago when I saw the kid on the side of the road scavenging for food out of a garbage can. I talked to him and found out his deal, and then brought him to Ahmed who said as long as he worked hard he would earn 3 meals a day for both his siblings and himself. Not a bad deal at all. “I just wanted to stop by before I took off.”
“You’ve been good to me.” He grabbed my wrist as one would do to a comrade. “May fortune favor you and your endeavors my friend.”
“And yours as well. And tell your siblings that their favorite infidel says hello,” I said in reply. Ahmed had returned from the kitchen with a to-go bag containing the closest thing to a shredded pork sandwich in the entire city and two Cokes in the classic glass bottles. Time to eat. I paid Ahmed and we shared our own friendly handshake.
“My friend, though we may have different beliefs, we do have the same morals. You are a good man, and for that I respect you. May your God bless you in whatever you set yourself to,” Ahmed said putting his hand on my shoulder.
“And may your God bless your business and endeavors as well,” I say in return. “Anyway I should take off, don’t want my CO bitching at me, right?” I chuckle a little. “Thanks,” I say as I leave. Cheryl still waiting outside, her eyes scanning the street still. “Working hard or hardly working?” I say holding out the ice cold Coke to her.
“Hardy har har,” she mock laughed. “I haven’t seen anything so far.”
“Are you sure you aren’t hungry?” I said as I opened the bag. “I could ask Ahmed to make you something if you wanted.” I took a bite of the shredded goat meat sandwich.
“No, I’m fine. How can you eat that? Don’t you suspect that he’ll poison you?”
“Because it’s the next best thing to shredded pork, which to Muslims is not allowed. Plus I can tell if he were going to do such a thing,” I say taking another bite.
“Do pray tell,” she said with disbelief.
“Well while I was still in college classes I took a course on psychology and body language. I’m actually really good at it. His actions never had any malicious hinting or anything to hint as such. So while I am wary of him, I can trust him better than any random here on the street.”
“Well I guess that does make sens-” she was cut off though by a bullet passing through my Coke bottle. We both ducked behind the nearest car for cover.
‘Why couldn’t today stay uneventful?’
***
Northern Arizona – July 17, 2020 2300 hours
The two F-22 Raptors tore through the night sky, their prey just in their reach.
“Viper actual to tower, we are in route to the aircraft. ETA less than 10 minutes.”
“Copy that,” came over the radio. “Attempt contact first and get them to comply. Await further orders of the pilot does not comply.”
“Roger.”
***
Spitfire continued to fly, her plane stuck flying south-southeast. She had control of the ailerons but not the rudder. She looked around her, the plateaus had turned into a lush forest and still beyond was the coming of the desert.
“This place really is confusing,” she muttered.
”Unidentified aircraft. Please respond, over,” Came a male voice over her radio. She looked around and saw no visible air presence. She tried to reach for her microphone, but saw it was smashed from when her head slammed into the canopy.
“Unidentified aircraft, this is Captain Cashman of the United States Air Force. Please respond over.”
***
“-Please respond over,” the captain said and paused waiting for a reply from the open channel. He reached down to his console and flipped over to a secure channel. “Base, this is Viper actual, aircraft is not responding. What do you want us to do next?”
The person on the other end paused for a moment, “Fly alongside them and flag them down. Fire a warning shot if you have to.”
“Copy that,” he turned to his partner. “Let’s go.”
"Fifty bucks says it's a rookie drug runner," his partner commented over the radio.
***
Over the drone of her engine Spitfire could hear two high pitched screams coming from behind her. She turned to see two aircraft bearing down fast upon her plane. They were black as night, blending seamlessly into the night sky, as well as sleek in design. They easily flanked her plane on both sides lining up cockpit to cockpit. A green glow emanated from one cockpit illuminating the pilot. He pulled up his blackened visor and looked directly at her with his masked face pointing downward at the ground.
“Pilot, descend now and prepare to land,” came over her radio.
“I can’t,” she said, over enunciating the words, hopeful that the other pilot could read lips.
***
The captain looked at the pilot and saw that she was trying to say something, “Viper two, I think her radio’s out.” He looked closer at the plane, it looked unmistakably like a P-51 Mustang, but in pristine condition, just as if it had rolled off the assembly line no more than a few days ago. Then he saw the machine guns sticking out of the wings.
“Base this is Viper actual, aircraft has guns. I repeat the plane has guns,” he stated with shock, yet calmness into his headset.
“Viper this is base, wait until it’s over the desert and away from the freeway then take it out. Sidewinders authorized.”
***
Spitfire got concerned real fast. Not only had the pilot’s light had gone off, but he had slipped his black visor back down and both planes had dropped back behind her tailing by a good few hundred feet. A realization came over her, it was a typical move just before you took a target out. Everyone knew that by the time they left the Academy. ‘But why weren’t they firing?’ she asked herself.
‘I have to lose them,’ she thought before pulling hard on the stick accelerating as fast as her plane could. She shot straight towards the clouds illuminated by the moon. Her pursuers however were able to follow her with ease. To make matters worse she couldn’t even see them on her radar. She shot out of the cloud layer and was buzzing the clouds. The other planes burst through them as well just staying above the clouds as well.
Two outlines then showed up on her radar, she turned around and saw the planes had open doors on both sides of their undersides. She then heard a tone associated with magic infused seeking missiles. But none came, but the tone kept going.
“There’s only one way out of this,” Spitfire said to no one. “I pray that this will work.” She did half an aileron roll so that her canopy was inside the clouds. She made sure her survival pack was securely clipped to her flight suit before jumping out. As she fell through the clouds she saw her plane fall from the clouds hundreds of feet away still being followed by the other planes. One shot two missiles that shot away from him and impacted her plane causing it to explode with no resistance.
***
“Base this is Viper, target has been destroyed.” The Raptors turned around in a long arc and headed back to base.
***
Spitfire rolled on the ground in landing from her terminal velocity fall. She examined her person. She had minor cuts from a cactus that she had landed on, some needles still in her arm. Which were removed quickly as one would remove a bandage. Her left wing had been strained from the forces exerted when she at tried to slow her fall. She’d be able to glide, but not fly. At least for the next few days. Before she had landed she had seen lights in the distance.
“There must be a city there. Funny, a jewel in the desert. Maybe it’s Los Pegasus,” she said sarcastically but also with hope.
She checked the contents of her survival kit. One combat knife that could be used as a utility knife, one .45 pistol with one spare magazine, one MRE, one emergency medical kit, and one large canteen of water.
“Well, time to start hoofing it. What a weird saying, 'hoofing it,'” Spitfire said as she started walking towards the lights in the distance.