“This looks good. Very good,” Rear Admiral Reynolds said as he scrutinized Scarecrow’s tactical plan to eliminate Black Bart. Commander Wilkes and his team were in the briefing room with the two senior officers, standing by to answer questions.
“Thank you, Sir,” Scarecrow replied.
“I would prefer you take the entire air wing.”
“We’ve determined all the task force will need are three TR-3Bs, Admiral,” Wilkes said. “It would be too dangerous to have any more birds involved.”
“Then go with a full division. Four birds, at least.”
“Sir–” Scarecrow looked from the rear admiral to Wilkes. The S-5 looked at Reynolds.
“Admiral, we ran simulations, and they revealed that more than three birds would be too risky in the asteroid belt. There was an 82 percent chance that we would lose two or more TR-3Bs. With only three, that percentage dropped to 18. We’ve run the numbers, Sir. It has to be no more than three.”
“What is the percentage of mission success?”
“Ninety-four percent, Sir.”
“Even with only three birds?”
“Yes, Admiral.”
“Thank you, Wilkes. You and your staff are dismissed,” Reynolds said. “CAG, a moment?” The rear admiral waited as Wilkes and his team exited the briefing room. He turned to Scarecrow.
“How are you feeling, Steve?”
“Sir?” Scarecrow replied as he turned to face his CO.
“If it was just you presenting this tactical plan, I would be hesitant to authorize it. But Wilkes supports you, so that clinches it.” He sighed. “You flew against this bandit with six and failed. Now you want to fly against him a second time with only three. Is that wise?”
“Under the circumstances, I don’t see we have much choice, Sir.”
“I always have a choice, and I’m concerned that this may not end well for you. You almost didn’t make it back the last time you engaged this particular enemy.”
“I intend to rectify that.”
“I can’t afford to lose you. We–the Program–can’t afford to lose you. We need to develop a strategy to take out this White Whale now we have proof it exists, and we need your ‘out of the box’ thinking to help us do that. Perhaps we should wait until Black Bart exits the asteroid belt.”
“Sir, Black Bart just destroyed another COD and its escort. I can’t sit by while he continues to pick off our assets. He’s a threat that must be eliminated. We’ve run the numbers. Our plan is sound. I won’t fail this time. I give you my word.”
“Steve–”
“Admiral, we’ve lost too many assets already. It’s not just our TR-3Bs–he’s targeting unarmed CODs. Too many innocent people have died. And then there’s Edwards, Vince, and Hutch. The numbers are piling up, and I can’t let that head count increase by even one more.”
“We’ll be singing a requiem for all of them. I don’t want to have to sing one for you, too.”
“You won’t have to, Sir. And I’ll see to it that you won’t have to sing requiems for any more of our people, either.”
“Steve, if you didn’t return from this mission, how could I justify losing another pilot? The best pilot in the fleet? My friend … the son of my best friend?”
“Almost 100 people are dead because of him. Hutch is still in sick bay because of him. Williams will probably spend the rest of his life walking with a limp because of him. And MacPherson … Stacey … she’s put in for re-assignment.”
“I know. The request came across my desk yesterday.”
“She’s lost her faith in me, Sir. And I can’t live with that. Not for another minute. Another second. This snakehead is going down, Admiral. He’s going down hard. I’ll see to that.”
“Don’t make this about revenge.”
“No, Sir. I learned my lesson from Sandy too well to make that mistake a second time.” Scarecrow’s eyes bored into Reynolds,’ his determination unmistakable. “It’s a reckoning …” he spoke through clenched teeth. “Black Bart has to pay.”
The room was silent as the admiral considered Scarecrow’s argument. He sighed.
“Go with God, my friend,” he said as he put his hand on Scarecrow’s shoulder. “Your plan is sound. I’ll be praying earnestly that the Almighty strengthens your hand.”
“Thank you, Sir. I won’t let you down.” Scarecrow snapped to attention and saluted. The rear admiral returned his salute, then turned and exited the briefing room, concerned he might never see his friend again.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Scarecrow was just about to surmount the ladder of his TR-3B, when Cooper yelled at him from across the hangar bay as she approached. At the sound of her voice, Scarecrow turned to respond, his face stern, matching Cooper’s own countenance.
“I have a mission to fly,” he replied, his voice flat.
“Do I need to remind you that we’re supposed to be getting married in two days? And then I hear that you’re going after that snakehead top-gun, again?”
“Sandy, I–”
“He spanked you once. What are you? A sucker for punishment?”
“He had the upper hand last time. Not this time.”
“What makes you so sure? You can’t go.” Cooper looked into his eyes with anger and concern.
“I have to go.” He returned her gaze, but with grim stoicism.
“Hello! Earth to Steve! Need I remind you that I’ve been here before?” She motioned to the deck with her hands. “Standing right in this very spot? I watched my pilot, the love of my life, Jimmy Saunders, fly away on a mission just like this, and he nev–” Her voice cracked. She grabbed the bottom half of her face with her hand and turned away in an attempt to hide her emotion, fighting to regain her composure. She looked back at Scarecrow.
“… He never came back. Don’t do this to me, Steve. I’m begging you. As you once said, I’m beseeching you!”
“Nothing’s going to happen to me, Sandy.” Scarecrow grabbed her shoulders and stared into her eyes. “I will come back to you, I promise.” He cast her a reassuring smile, but Cooper was unconvinced. Her eyes narrowed as her anger overwhelmed her concern.
“I’ve heard those words before, Commander. And you don’t know that. This snakehead just might be your match, and where will that leave me? Don’t. Go.” Cooper’s request rang with desperation.
“If I don’t go, then who’s going to deal with this threat?”
“Let someone else–”
“Who? Who, Sandy? Who else? He’s greased everyone that’s gone up against him. He almost took me out! But not this time.”
Cooper stared at Scarecrow for a moment, the tension thick between them. Then she reached down and pulled her engagement ring off her finger. She grabbed Scarecrow’s hand and slapped the ring into his upturned palm.
“If you go on this mission, then you better take this with you,” she said. “Because if you fly out that hangar bay door … we’re finished!” Cooper didn’t give Scarecrow a chance to respond before spinning on her heel and storming away.
“Sandy!” he called after her. “Wait!”
She ignored him as she strode across the hangar bay and out the hatch. Scarecrow started across the bay after her, then stopped and peered down at the ring in his hand. A flood of emotions washed over him. He was desperate to run after her, gather her up in his arms and promise her he wouldn’t go on this mission. Beg her to take back his ring.
But he also knew that he had to go. This enemy would continue to harass the fleet, picking off their pilots one by one, and someone had to stop him. Scarecrow was the only one who could do that. The fleet needed him. The Program needed him. Needed him to eliminate this threat.
He had a choice to make. Fly the mission and lose the woman he loved, or stand down and watch more of his comrades succumb to this snakehead ace. All of the emotions he’d felt only a few short days before, when Cooper had spurned him after his encounter with the phantom Marine, came flooding back to crash over his spirit like a tidal wave. She was right. He was protecting Samantha again.
He stood for what seemed like an eternity, peering down at the ring lying in his palm, then up at the hatch his fiancé had exited through, then back at his hand once more. A war was raging inside his soul, and he fought a desperate fight not to let emotion overwhelm reason.
He stuffed the ring into the pocket of his flight suit, hefted his VRI helmet and turned to walk back to his bird.
It was the most difficult decision he’d ever made, and the longest 40 feet he’d ever walked.
Scarecrow climbed up into his TR-3B and secured the hatch behind himself. His ascent was slow and deliberate. His emotions were flying all around him, blinding him, mocking him, drawing his concentration away from the mission. The objective. He knew he had to shake off those feelings. Press–no crush those emotions down. Down deep, where they had no influence over him. He needed to focus on the mission right now. Cooper … Sandy … his Sweeting, had to take a second seat to what he faced at this moment. If he was distracted by her, by what she had just done, then he would lose his edge, and he could easily become just another target for Black Bart. Then Sandy would be right–he would not be coming back. He couldn’t let that happen. For her sake, he couldn’t let his feelings for her distract him from the task at hand. He had to focus. He had to succeed. He had to come back for her. Come back to her.
I have to.
Scarecrow secured the hatch, then turned to take his seat, and was startled to find Williams and Matheson in their own seats, waiting in silence for him.
“Vince, what are you doing here?” Scarecrow asked. “The doctor hasn’t cleared you for duty.”
“You’re not flying this mission without me, Sir. I’m going with you,” Williams said.
“You’re still injured, Commander. You should be in sick bay.”
“Sir, the weapons systems on this bird are operated from a seated position. I’m good to go.”
“Vince, there’s every chance that this is a one-way trip. I’m not prepared to ask you to sacrifice your life. I have to fly this one without you.”
“That’s funny, Sir, because I didn’t hear you ask me to do anything. Did you hear the Commander ask me to do anything, Lieutenant?”
“No, Sir!”
“I don’t want to risk your life, Vince. Not in your condition. Hendricks will be WSO on this mission –”
“No, Sir. I’m your WSO.”
Until that moment, Williams never looked at Scarecrow. He sat stone-faced, staring straight ahead. Now he turned and looked his friend in the eye, his countenance etched with determination. “You don’t have any choice in the matter, Steve. You’re my commanding officer, you’re my pilot, and you’re my friend. We fly together, we die together. I can’t think of a more honorable way to check out, than sitting beside you, engaging the enemy in combat.”
“Ditto, Commander!” Matheson added.
“We’re not Vikings, Vince. We don’t have to die in battle to go–”
“It’s not about that, Sir!” Williams replied.
Scarecrow weighed his crew’s words for a moment, attempting to think of something that could counter their argument. He could think of none.
“… You stubborn, pig-headed, insubordinate–” Scarecrow shook his head, then offered his hand to Williams. “Ah, Vince. I couldn’t have said it better myself. Thanks, buddy, for sticking by me. You too, Cody.”
“I’d fly with you any day Sir, regardless of the odds,” the lieutenant said, beaming.
“Cody, we’ve got to get you assigned to a regular flight crew,” Scarecrow said as he peered over his shoulder.
The three officers stared at each other for a moment, smiling. Then their expressions morphed to grim determination.
“Let’s do it,” Scarecrow spoke for all three. “Alright, gentlemen, let’s get this show on the road. Power us up, SO.”
“Powering up aye, Sir!”
The three donned their VRI helmets and prepared for takeoff.
“I assume you’ve already completed your pre-flight checks, Lieutenant?”
“We’re good to go, CAG.”
Scarecrow opened on the comm.
“Nautilus Flight Control, Aurora Tactical One, requesting permission to depart, over.”
“Aurora Tactical One, Flight. Permission granted. Opening hangar bay doors, over.”
“Flight, Tactical One. Roger that, over.”
Scarecrow lifted them off, and Cody retracted the landing gear as they floated out of their alcove, guided by the virtual aircraft director. Scarecrow’s wingman, Nutcracker, followed him to wait until the bay doors were open.
“I wish Stacey was with us,” Scarecrow whispered under his breath. Then out loud, convinced Cody had heard him, he added, “No offence, Lieutenant.”
“None taken, Sir.”
“Don’t worry, Commander,” Williams assured him. “She’s just had a slight case of the jitters. She’ll come around.”
“I know. I feel like I’ve let her down is all.”
“Tactical One, Flight. Hangar bay doors are open. You’re cleared for departure, over.”
“Tactical One copies.”
“Tactical One, Flight. God speed you, Commander. May His holy angels fly with you, over.”
“Thank you, Flight. I’m sure there’s one sitting on our nose right now. Tactical One out.”
Scarecrow switched to the squadron common frequency. “Alright gentlemen, let’s go croc hunting, shall we?”