“What is he doing?”
The Schwalbe in front banked hard right, oddly keeping its heading, she immediately corrected her attitude, instinctively followed by her wingman, the three aircraft in close formation blasting through the rough landscape, well under the hard deck they were expected to maintain, doing Mach 0.9.
The lead was pushing too hard, there was no need for it, but in his mind there were no limits. It was just another run.
“Stay with me.”
Behind him, riding bitch, the RIO was focused on the instruments, phlegmatic, completely absorbed by the task. Iron hand was their thing. They were a tight crew. “Zero point five miles in. We’re in the pipe.”
The right hand on the throttle was hitching. He shook his head as if to swat away the caution buzz around it, and his shoulders shrugged, flexing. Right on his wing, she noticed, the terrain flashing by under them, so close she could almost smell the early morning dew on the leaves of the trees they were grazing.
“Don’t do it.”
He smiled. His bitch looked over her shoulder to glance at the two other Schwalbe, in close staggered formation.“Going one.” The three flying machines hit the speed of sound at the exact same time, the air displacement blasting through the ground as the boom echoed over the quiet landscape, and the little stealth they had blown along with it. Didn’t matter. The demons were waiting.
“Wake up, motherfuckers.”
[...]
“What the fuck was that!?”
She was inches from his shut visor. The ground crew hustling around the Schwalbe on the large elevator platform. He removed his helmet slowly. “What do you mean, exactly.”
She sighed deeply. She was new, he was a legend. This was exactly what she signed up for, and yet not. Her oath was the last thing on her mind, they all had but one thing in common. The adoration for the skies, the rush of the whistling wind holding their wings. Her eyes closed.
That was not what she had signed up for, and yet it was. She took a deep breath, and looked at him. “It’s alright. We made it.”, he said, placing a hand on her shoulder. His bitch was right behind him, slightly to the side, watching her with cold eyes, their gray like impenetrable ice, herself a legend in her own right.
He turned around and walked away, heading for the debriefing. His bitch kept eye contact with her for a few seconds and then broke off, following the pilot.
Her RIO approached and stood by her, watching them both walk away towards the command building. “He’s going to kill us all before this is over. And his bitch is no better.”, he said. She kept her eyes on them as they reached the command building. Let out a short breath, composing herself, as if reaching for her soul that ran back to her along the sight of her eyes.
How long had it been since the Academy? Too long? Not long enough? She looked up at the sky, watching it being stolen by the huge doors that were closing high above, hiding the flight enormous elevator under the large water mirror above. Just a long, wide artificial lake, on the gardens surrounding the XVIII century mansion where their base was located, conveniently hidden from google eyes. When the doors shut, she looked at her friend and shook her head. Was it in her power to save him? Could she? Didn’t really matter.
And she whispered to him, “I know.”
[...]
The briefing room was big. The screens facing the lined up chairs set in two scores with an aisle between them, squadron insignias and banners on the side walls. The Legend was lead, he would conduct the debriefing.
The remaining five crewmen and crewwomen were sitting facing him as he took a few steps on the elevated platform with a small podium to the side.
He picked up a remote and activated the recording made by their own tracking satellite. The eyes of the others followed the action on the largest screen.
Impeccable staggered formation, despite the excessive speed, perfect approach to target, impeccable anti-aircraft ground to surface triggering and AA site’s destruction by long range laser guided smart missiles, coming from the Ho 500 high above. Perfect Iron Hand routine. And then…
She moved in her seat, uncomfortable with the coming footage. The six aircraft left the mission area and flew over a civilian installation. It was a legitimate target. It aided the target power’s efforts. But it was also built under a children’s hospital. The target of opportunity had been relayed automatically to base, and the strike order was sent in the next second.
She took a deep breath as she watched them destroy the target with extreme prejudice. The deep penetration weapons the Schwalbe are equipped with are designed to explode in depth, blowing up anything on the surface above. She closed her eyes, as the feed was over. The Legend placed the remote on the podium. “Any questions.” None. He nodded. And added “Good job on Iron Hand. The target of opportunity was engaged in immediate response to the orders received. Zero hesitation. Good job, everyone.” And he looked at her.
She was not betraying her feelings as she stared back at him. But he knew. Still he chose to say nothing. “Dismissed.”
As they left the room, he called her. “Lieutenant Breslow.” She stopped. The others left, the Legend’s bitch throwing her a brief stare as she exited the room. He walked to her.
“The hospital is bothering you.” He said, when he reached her. She looked at him, doing her best to stay calm. “There were children in it. Of course it is bothering me.” She said emotionless. He nodded. “Of course.”
“Would that be all, Sir?” No. It wouldn’t. It shouldn’t. Yet he just nodded.
“Carry on.” She stood at attention, clicking her heels. “Captain.” And left, unsure of how much more she could bear.
There was sun. And blue skies above.
She was watching a flock of seagulls in the distance. Hovering.
“Rose…” She didn’t look at him. He came closer and stood by her side, watching the birds. “All I ever wanted was to fly.”, she said. He stayed silent. It was her turn to speak.
She was his favorite, and perhaps something more, something deeper, something impossibly deeper. He let her breathe, take her time, but that was all she had to say. She didn’t even look at him… She just stood there, taking the sun on her face. No shades. Just her eyes. Her unimaginable eyes. Such an amazing shade of hazel.
She had seen him for the first time at the Academy. He was a hard teacher, and like others in her class, of all genders, she was secretly in love with him. They called him the Legend. 509 combat missions. 3,000 plus hours of flight time. 25 confirmed kills. An ace. The ace. After the first session she knew one thing. She would become him. Her head turned to him, now. She could see her reflection on his shades. But not his eyes. She looked away.
“Rose…”, he started again. “We’re going out today. Zero nine hundred.”
She said nothing. He was obviously worried, and her silence was not helping. Her face was perfectly serene, though. Not a sign of distraught. “Rose…”, he called again and she cut him short. “I’ll be there.”
She said nothing. He was obviously worried, and her silence was not helping. Her face was perfectly serene, though. Not a sign of distraught. “Rose…”, he called again and she cut him short. “I’ll be there.”
He observed her for a second. “Just making sure.” She stood perfectly still, eyes on the horizon. He wanted to ask her if she was alright. But he knew better than to force her to lie.
So he just… Walked away. Again.
To be continued...
From “Blue Skies.” Oakie Notebook One.
