Chapter 1
The young woman walked out along the tarmac, blonde hair up in a bun as her olive green flight suit sat over her slim and athletic frame. She walked towards where the ground crew were finishing checks on a large and mean looking Jet. The F-35, a futuristic looking attack jet that she specialized in flying. Her helmet was tucked under her arm and there was a grin playing across her features as she reached the plane. She climbed up into the cockpit and settled herself in the seat. She pulled that deep purple helmet over her head and snapped the visor down over her eyes. She fastened the helmet and connected the oxygen feed. Switching the radio on she heard the comms crackle to life and she finally buckled herself in. Her callsign was printed across her helmet in stark white letters Blondie. As the ground crew cleared back she closed the canopy and started the first engine, at the signal from the ground team she fired the second engine up into life. "Raptor six- five -twenty, clear for take-off." The comms crackled and she nodded, giving the thumbs up to her ground team as she guided the plane out onto the runway. Throttling up the plane brought the engines to an ear splitting roar until she let the breaks go and the aircraft launched forward along the runway. As the speed came up to where it needed to be she lifted the nose and let it lift effortlessly into the air. She tucked the landing gear into position before taking the jet up into a near vertical climb, its specialty.
She was one of the best, she flew hard and fast and many came out to watch when she flew these evening patrol flights, putting such an aggressive aircraft up to patrol often kept the enemy in check, but it came at a price. She knew that she had a large target on her head, she was worth a crazy amount to both sides. There were new guys in at base that day. Word on the street was all over the potential that some of the pilots might be able to keep pace with her. There were rumors of the enemy plotting a big move and they wanted their best there to defend.
As the jet climbed she smiled and settled into her routine flight, circling the base and making sure that everything was up to par. It seemed quiet, there was no signs of other people anywhere across the surrounding area, that in itself made her narrow her eyes. There were usually locals milling around. Tonight? Nothing. “Blondie to tower, report dead activity. Repeat zero movement around, suggest enemy activity imminent.” She spoke over the radio. “Request backup for deeper patrol run.” She added before she climbed higher to get a better look at the area. Where were the people, and who would they send to back her up? Little did she know part of the problem was actually inside the base… the devil was in the walls so to speak. Whispers filtered through the base from the tower as two more pilots were immediately scrambled to join her on the wing. Rebecca Leyton never called in for help. She was a lone wolf most of the time. It sent ripples of unease through the base as everyone that was on duty sharpened up incase of an ambush that had been expected for a while now.
“Gabriel.”
He grunted in response, didn’t look up. “Gabe.” He sighed, but still didn’t look up. A foot collided with his boot as the man kicked him. “You stubborn donkey. Get your head out of the guts of that jet and get out here you ass.” He rolled his eyes, the muscles lining his shoulders rippled as he stretched his neck from side to side before he settled his eyes back on his task while he tweaked the cogs a little further. The man hooked the toe of his boot beneath the edge of the board that he was laying on and slid him out from beneath the fighter jet. Gabriel glared at him, cornflower blue eyes stared up into green as the man braced his hands on his hips. “What, Zeke?” He grumbled, running his fingers through his auburn hair, more red than brown. Zeke rolled his eyes, “She’s calling for backup.” He stated, arching a brow at the man on the ground. Gabriel gave a pointed, bored blink. “So?”
“You know better. She wouldn’t call if she didn’t suspect something amiss.” Zeke responded.
“There are plenty of other pilots. Why don’t you take to the pit and fly?” He responded, pressing his right foot flat against the cement floor to push himself back under the jet he was working on. Zeke slammed his boot down on the end of the board, “Look, you stubborn ass. You know if it gets serious they will need you.” He returned. Gabriel sighed, rolling his eyes. He glanced to the left as an ebony haired woman trudged up to them, a helmet tucked beneath her arm, “Close the hatch, let’s get the hell up there. I’ll go.” She returned simply. Gabriel couldn’t help but chuckle. “See? Volunteers.” He said with an approving nod as he pushed back underneath the jet.
Zeke rolled his eyes and cast a disapproving glance at the woman, “Seriously, Ashlynn?” He growled. “You have to stop swooping in and giving him an excuse not to use the skills he possesses.” He snapped. She shrugged, unconcerned. “One of us has to go up with the other tug. She wants to run a deeper patrol. We don’t have time for him to come to terms with his trust issues.” She returned with a smirk. Gabriel felt the back of his neck burn and he grit his teeth, his eyes narrowing as he fused the wires back together and eased the plates back into place. A few bolts later and he slid out from under the jet, saying nothing. His eyes were steely as he climbed to his feet and hooked a thumb at the cockpit, “She’s boosted. Get out there and make it count.” He muttered simply to Ashlynn who grinned and reached up to ruffle his hair, “Get the fuck off me.” He growled, swatting her wrist away before he turned and headed down the hangar. “Gabriel.” It was Zeke again. He sighed, his shoulders dropping with defeat but his brow remained pinched in frustration. He whipped around suddenly, “What?” He demanded, brows slamming down and eyes narrowed.
“You know better.” Zeke glanced down at Gabriel’s right leg. He wouldn’t rest his full weight on it. It was in every limping step that he took. The accident had made it highly unlikely they ever would have let him fly again, but he had tested in. He had beaten the odds. He still had the skills. He knew they would call on him if necessary. He shook his head, “I’m not doing it, Zeke. We have plenty of talent out there without me going up there.” He shook his head before he turned and set off down the hangar again. Zeke sighed but he didn’t push it as he watched Gabriel limp away.
“Get the fuck up here.” Becca growled to herself as she looped back around the base. She had a bad feeling about why the surrounding area was so quiet and she wanted to find out what was going on as soon as possible. As she looped around the back side of the base a group of vehicles against the horizon caught her eye and she frowned beneath her helmet. “Blondie to tower... Report potential hostile activity to the west. I’m going to check it out.” She spoke into her comms before rocking the nose of the jet back and climbing higher to try and stay out of danger. As she rapidly closed in she realized what she was looking at. There were around fifty pickup trucks lined up, all with anti aircraft missile launchers mounted in the back. “Holy shit...” She muttered. “Blondie to tower. Permission to engage, I’ve got about fifty trucks here and the second they spot me it’s going to be a firework display. Full anti aircraft weaponry.” She spoke into her radio. She needed more firepower. She needed backup. She could see them looking, they could hear the large jet but they were yet to lay eyes on it. The answer from the tower crackled over the earpiece and caused the young woman to clench her jaw. "Negative Blondie, do not engage. Backup inbound."
Zeke glanced back over his shoulder for a moment, catching the sharp jut of the captain’s chin, indicating that they needed Gabriel. Gabe refused to be captain anymore. He didn’t want it. Teams couldn’t be trusted to take care of each other, he had the scars to prove it. Climbing back into the sky wasn’t something he was willing to do at all, let alone because ‘Blondie’ called for help. He rolled his eyes at the thought but he could feel Zeke’s eyes on his back. He heard the jogged steps before he felt a hand close on his shoulder, “Gabe.” Zeke’s tone was softer this time. Gabriel sighed, his eyes sliding closed. A pale scar over his left eye shimmered in the low light of the stall they stood beside with a gleaming chopper sitting on a frame waiting to be inspected. He glanced back at his friend, his eyes searching his expression. “Please, Gabe. You know that you can work best with her. They need your skills.” Zeke implored, his green eyes darkening. Gabriel felt a ripple of tension run up his spine. He didn’t like this. Not one bit. He didn’t want to get back into that jet to save his life. He was regretting being talked back to base, but it gave him the only purpose he had in life versus drinking himself into oblivion. He could practically feel the scar beneath his tee shirt burning where Zeke’s hand rested. He shrugged off his grip, “Fine. Just this once.” He muttered darkly, his eyes sharpening as he turned and stomped off towards the last stall at the very end of the hangar, “Get the team assembled and warm her up, I’m going to change.” He grumbled icily over his shoulder. Zeke held a glass smile as he looked after Gabriel before he turned and jogged off. He glanced after Ashlynn as she took to the sky, her jet small, sleek, and steel gray with a goldenrod octagon on the tail, sparks of yellow bursting from it. Giving a sharp nod of satisfaction, he turned and headed further into the base.
Less than five minutes later, Gabriel was staring at the cockpit of his jet. The canvas was pulled off and draped across the crates sitting at the back of his stall. He used it more for storage than anything else these days. He didn’t fly. He didn’t want to. The jet was still clean, sleek. The crew was buzzing around getting it prepared, and he had his black helmet tucked beneath his arm. His blue eyes shifted to the tail of the jet, spotting the infinity symbol that was scratched off. If one really looked, a ghost of the endless, connected rings could still be seen. Almost as if the image had only faded out of existence instead of him taking a metal blade and scraping the paint off in a fury. His features screwed sharply again and his stomach clenched with rage. He strode forward, long strides carrying him right up the incline before he leaped into the cockpit, jammed his helmet down over his head and engaged the engine, activating the comms. He said nothing. Zeke’s voice cut across the line, “Hold, Blondie. Infinity engaging. Flame in route.” Gabriel sighed and rolled his eyes. He glanced down at the ground and Zeke offered him a slight smile, saluting him. “Have a good flight, captain.” He said. Gabriel shook his head. He wasn’t the captain. They could all keep pretending as much as they wanted, but that wasn’t his place anymore. The playboy in that role was who they were supposed to be looking up to. He lifted his gaze, narrowed his eyes and felt the rumble of the engines now purring in tandem.
He eased the jet down the runway, his team backing away and trotting across the tarmac. Excitement fluttered through the teams as they noted that he was taking to the air again. Two years. Two years he had managed not to get put out on a mission. He had made a few short flights. Skills still sharp. Fury still in place. Bitterness still coated his nervous system. His skin was covered in scars. This wasn’t what he wanted. He should have just taken the out and retired. He was still too young to sit around like an old man waiting for the world to pass by. Now he worked as a mechanic and batted away the attempts at talking him back into the cockpit. Yet here he was. He grit his teeth, flipping a silver switch in his cockpit and took to the sky.
He imagined sinking back in a plush armchair, glass of whiskey clenched between his fingers, eyes closing as a fire crackled in the hearth. Good old days. Old days filled with pain and suffering, a recovery that had left him wishing he was dead. His blue eyes were full of flint and furious fire and he scanned the scene below as he angled higher into the cloud cover. There were dark clouds dotting the sky that would give him and Ashlynn some coverage. He heard her call to Becca, but still he said nothing. She knew he was there. He was closing in on her position. He breathed deeply, the oxygen dump that heightened his senses. He closed his fingers tightly around his controls, his knuckles white. Ashlynn had been his friend for years. She had bee his buddy between the sheets. He still didn’t trust her. He didn’t trust ‘Blondie’. He didn’t trust anyone. That’s how you stayed alive. He was a rogue these days, and that’s the way it would stay.
