by Chris Hechtl
>}@^@{<
Moira read the more complete Lone Wolf report. Now that Locke had opened the floodgates by meeting them, she had a lot more intel to go on. Arkangel had finally, grudgingly, opened up his files as well to fill in the blanks.
Apparently an air freight and transport company called Santini Air had been into salvaging some of the space wrecks for parts to keep their machines running for some time. Along the way, they had salvaged and rebuilt a marine attack craft, a Bell Ichim 222 attack craft. It was charcoal gray with a light grayish white underbelly. She remembered them well; it had four engines clustered around the fuselage and one on each wingtip, a split V tail and a tricky ship to fly. The cockpit was laid out with the pilot and copilot in line instead of flying tandem. The rear seat usually acted as the flight engineer. She had a sort of growl when the engines really spooled up; it was spooky to hear. That growl grew in pitch to a high shriek when she really had to hustle. Pilots loved the craft because it could dance in the air. The basic design had been used for centuries. According to what she'd heard, Colonel Forth intended to request a wing of the craft.
The natives had intended to use it in air shows once it had been restored and certified flight worthy. But the arrival of the pirates had changed that. Instead they had secured fuel, parts, and ordinance for it and then used The Lady against the Horathians in hit and run raids. She could see where Arkangel had come into play.
Arkangel had been acting as their go between. He'd kept them at arm's length and had supplied them with some parts to keep them indebted to him. They in turn had helped out from time to time and supplied intel when they had it. From some of the … overtones of the reports, she could get a better feel for Arkangel. She wasn't sure she liked what she had found. He had played both sides of the conflict, sometimes turning over intel to the enemy in order to get favors or to get someone to look the other way. That was troubling. If he'd done it and used civilian lives, it could be construed as a war crime. She shook herself. That was for his boss and IG to handle.
She'd finally gotten a face-to-face meeting with the Santinis. They wore baggy, blue flight suits with a winged wolf patch on the shoulders. Dom had seemed amused that she was a Neowolf.
“Now look, Major. You don't tell me how to run my business, and I won't butt in and tell you how to run your war.”
Moira sized up the crotchety old human and snorted mentally. He had silver hair, a bit of a pot belly, and a lively eye. But he was stubborn. “I'm trying to get us to coordinate our efforts, Mister Santini.”
“All right, we can do that,” the man said nodding. “Tell me where you are, and I'll be somewhere else.”
“And if our people need fire support? Or if you do?”
“We'll … we'll get on the radio,” he replied.
“Uncle Dom, be serious,” the young blond woman with him sighed.
“Look, I know you are good, but you need help.”
“He's right, Dom,” Arkangel said patiently. “She's gotten you three experienced pilots.”
“Experienced,” Dom sniffed. “These ladies and I can handle the gal just fine,” he said with a dismissive sniff just as a trio of men came in. He turned with a scowl that quickly became a grin. “String! Sinjin! What the devil are you doing here?” He exclaimed as he and his niece embraced two of the three officers.
“They are two of the pilots,” Moira said over the back thumping and chuckling. Dom turned to her in surprise. She flicked her ears and nodded. “And the third is Ensign Rivers here. I take it you know the Hawk brothers?”
“Know them? Pushaw, I practically raised them! Who do you think taught them how to fly? To turn a wrench?” Dom demanded. “Know them,” he scoffed shaking his head.
“We flew for Uncle Dom here before we heard about the marines and Admiral Irons. When we did we hopped a flight to Pyrax, ma'am,” Sinjin stated.
“Yeah, leaving me high and dry,” Dom said indignantly.
“No, you had me, Uncle Dom,” Jo said, eying him darkly. “And we picked up Caitlin too you know.”
“And I understand she's been making noises about joining the militia formally or going back to being an Air Ranger,” Arkangel said smoothly. “And both you and Miss Santini here have never been comfortable sitting in the pilot's seat.”
“I didn't like shooting down that shuttle. I know we had to but …,” Jo shook her head, face drawn.
“It's war,” Arkangel stated. “And you did a good job. I wish you'd gotten it coming in instead of out but …,” he shrugged.
“What's the difference?” Dom demanded.
“Coming in they were loaded with troops and equipment. Going out it was empty, Dom,” String stated. Dom eyed him and saw both Hawk brothers nod. “So, can we sign on?”
“Do I have a choice?” Dom asked, turning to the man in white then to the white wolf. “Well? Do I?”
“You are a civilian, of course you do. I would hope you would at least consider the offer.”
“Did you arrange this?” Dom accused, eying Arkangel. The man put his hands up in surrender. He rubbed at his nose then dropped his hands. “Did you?” he asked, turning a gimlet eye on the wolf.
“I had no idea you were here, your ship, or them until I got here. A lack of intelligence on a certain someone's part,” she said dryly, eying the man in white. “He's been rather reluctant and very protective of you and your ladies.”
“For good reason,” Arkangel said smoothly.
“So we can be clear, we're offering you pilots who are keenly interested in flying your bird. Plus, as you mentioned, they know how to turn a wrench. They also have marine training, so they can keep the bird secure.”
“She's secure enough,” Dom said.
“Maybe from attacks from the air. But that volcano is vulnerable to the ground,” Moira stated. Dom gaped at her like a fish. She flicked her ears. “And I am aware the only way in or out for the bird is to fly vertically up the chimney shaft. But there is a cave entrance.”
“You ….” He turned an accusing glower on Arkangel but again the man put his hands up.
“We figured it out,” Moira said dryly. Dom turned on her. She rolled her eyes. “Come on, Mister Santini, we're holding the orbitals, remember? Your flight traffic was obvious. You're lucky Arkangel recognized your flight profile and interceded to keep you from being shot down from on high.”
“We could have evaded,” Jo said.
“From an orbital strike? Unlikely, Jo,” String told her. She eyed him. “Trust me, I've seen it.”
“Oh,” she said ever so softly.
“You're going to get parts, support, fuel, equipment, and ordinance. Security if you want it. Security at places you land outside your ‘lair’ is a definite,” Arkangel said, making it sound like he'd negotiated the deal.
“It's a good deal, Dom. I'd go with it,” Sinjin said. String nodded. “But we'll support whatever you decide.”
“Well, it doesn't look like I have much of a choice,” Dom said, sounding chagrined as he looked at the group. Jo smiled and rubbed his shoulders.
“I'm not saying you have to sign up to the marines. Militia is fine. Flying with an IFF would be nice so someone doesn't accidentally shoot you down.”
“That makes you a target. There is a reason we prefer to strike at night,” Jo said.
“And it's also a psychological advantage. Builds the myth and legend,” Arkangel murmured. String and Rivers grinned in appreciation.
“I know all about militias, Mister, Miss Santini,” Moira said, nodding politely to each of the civilians. Her ears twitched. “I also run the Kathy's World Rangers. And I'm the current President of the planet. We have the rangers on Kathy's World as well as planetary mounties. They were the ones who bounced the Pirates out.”
“With a little help from you, ma'am,” Arkangel interjected, smoothing his lapel.
“Then why are you here?” Dom demanded.
“One doesn't ignore a fire on your neighbor’s property. You help
despite the risk without any expectation of reward,” Moira said smoothly.
Jo nodded. “Thank you,” she murmured quietly. “We accept.”
“Good. The unholy trio here can help you with the supplies,” Moira said with another flick of her ears.
“Okay. But we'll have to fly them in at night. I'm not risking my birds during the day. And we can't move it all at once,” Dom said.
“Good. Glad you are thinking ahead,” Moira said before Arkangel could say something. “I'm glad you've got a 222 over a 333. She's an honest craft and can hover. I always hated flying the 333.”
“You've flown them, ma'am?” Jo asked, blinking in surprise.
“The major here is a sleeper,” Arkangel said smoothly. “She actually had an assault shuttle on Kathy's World that she restored and used against the pirates.”
“So you know where we're coming from,” Jo said with respect in her voice as she eyed the wolf. “Thank you again.” She turned expectantly to her uncle. “Right, Uncle Dom?” she said with enough hint in her voice to make the Hawk brothers smile and Ensign Rivers wince.
“I really should get the business back up and running,” Dom mumbled. “Your family's cabin is still up in Hemet if you want it, boys—right on the lake. I've used it a time or two with Jo to go fishing, but it's in good shape.”
“We've met there a few times,” Arkangel said smoothly. “I've borrowed it a few times,” he admitted. Dom glared his way, but the spy only smirked.
“Thanks, Uncle Dom. We'll look into it,” String said smoothly. He winked at Jo who smiled graciously. She tucked herself under his arm as they made their way out.
“Well! That went better than expected,” Arkangel said, holding his lapel.
“Don't be so smug, Lieutenant. It's just a tentative agreement. We'll see how the future goes. Getting the trio flight experience with that bird is important.”
“You mean they don't have a clue,” Arkangel stared at her. Moira snorted. “And does Dom …”
“Something tells me he won't mind. They are fast learners,” she said mildly. “All three put in for the marine wing. That's why they went through the corps initially. They were flying trash haulers for a while before Kittyhawk took on a marine squadron. By the time they had gotten wind of it in Agnosta, the first cut had been chosen and they were out in the cold. Besides,” She flicked her ears. “They put in for ground attack, not fighters. This should work out better.”
“If you say so, ma'am,” Arkangel replied dubiously.
“If Admiral Irons can get us some more birds, they'll each have one by the end of the year. I hope,” Moira said softly.
>}@^@{<
String, Mike, Sinjin, and Jason traveled to the Santini vacation grounds. The Hawk brothers instinctively oriented on where the pods were, but there was nothing there. The pods and building the family had built were gone. The entire area had been stripped and looked like a long disused camp ground with rustic wood furniture.
“Now what? I thought we were supposed to meet him here?” Jason asked.
“We are.”
“He's not exactly the trusting type,” Sinjin said.
“Well, from what I heard Arkangel didn't make it easy,” String said. “Give him credit for being cautious.”
“Paranoid,” Jason said.
“Even paranoids have enemies. And being a little paranoid on this planet is a survival trait everyone should employ,” String warned. “And do I have to remind you the spook of this? Really?”
Jason frowned but then reluctantly nodded, conceding the argument.
“So …,” String grimaced. He was unsure where to go when he heard a familiar throaty high pitched roar followed by a screaming sound of jet engines. He grinned, but no matter where he and the others turned their heads they couldn't track it to its source. Finally, he gave up and went out into the open near a cliff. Jason and Sinjin followed warily.
He was amused as the sound circled him. He closed his eyes in order to orient on the source. The sound stopped. When he opened his eyes, he frowned. Either they hadn't seen him or they'd thought he was someone else. He started to go when a soft whumping sound on the other side of the cliff made him stop for some reason.
Slowly, as if it was a ghost The Lady rose from the other side of the cliff as if it was coming out of the fog. String couldn't help it; he grinned as Jason ducked from the downdraft and whistled in appreciation.
String didn't bother to look back at his taller, slightly older brother. No doubt the blond male was as amused at their Uncle Dom's antics as he was.
Mike was clapping like a little kid.
When the craft came closer, String saw through the tinted cockpit glass to the pilot within. The slim pilot was wearing the gray flight suit and black helmet. He nodded and saluted. The pilot nodded back.
The ship pitched its nose down and circled around the group, then landed next to their borrowed truck with a bounce.
They waited as the engines spooled down before they walked over to the craft and then walked around her. The cockpit door opened and String helped a woman climb out of the pilot's seat. There was a familiar testy grunt that made String shake his head and fight a grin. After a moment a rather rotund male climbed out after the woman.
“Damn thing is getting harder to get out of every damn mission,” the fat man grunted as his boots hit the rock. He took the helmet off and looked at String as he tucked it under one arm. “About time you showed up!” he said, eying String, and then turning to the others. “You know how much fuel costs these days? Well, do ya?”
String laughed and wrapped his arms around his godfather and foster parent. “It's good to see you too, Uncle Dom,” he teased. “All of you,” he said, making a show of patting the ample belly.
“Pushaw,” Dom said, batting the hand away.
“It is good to see you, Uncle Dom, and not just in the major's office,” Sinjin said, giving him a hug as well. Dom chuckled, thumping the blonde’s back with his free hand as they embraced.
String noted his face was a bit red, most likely from the exertion of getting out of the bird and the stress of meeting the group. His uncle had gone out on a limb trusting them. “Who was in the hot seat?” String asked, turning to the woman. “Not that I'm jealous or anything …”
“Your fault for leaving,” Dom growled as the woman took her helmet off and shook her short hair out. “But I think you remember Jo,” Dom said.
“Jo?” String said, shocked. His eyes widened.
“Jo?” Sinjin echoed.
“Yeah, that's right. Got a problem with that?” Jo demanded indignantly, tucking the helmet under one arm and jutting her chin out to them in challenge.
String laughed again as he wrapped her in a bear hug. She resisted momentarily before she returned the embrace. “Good to see you too, Jo,” String said, kissing her cheek. Sinjin echoed the sentiment and kissed the other cheek. Eventually the young woman melted a bit to embrace them back.
>}@^@{<
Dom caught the boys and the other officers up on some small talk and events as he walked them around the bird. When he got to the part about their aunt and uncle's death, the Hawk brothers embraced Jo all over again, offering their condolences. She seemed to chafe under it but then took it in stride.
“I've seen simulations, run the VR, but I never had my hands on one before,” Mike said, gently touching a trailing edge. “She's gorgeous,” he murmured.
“Paws off my bird,” Dom growled.
“Dom,” Jo sighed. “Share,” she said warningly.
Dom crossed his arms, chin out. Dom typical stubborn pain in the ass. “Absolutely not.”
“Uncle Dom …”
“Don't Uncle Dom me, young lady,” Dom said, eying Jo. “You … you won't wheedle me so easily, missy!”
String snorted as Jo pretended to pout. “Okay then,” Jo said, suddenly changing tactics. She took on a sterner appearance. “How about this. We need the help. More now than ever and you know it. S
o don't go climbing on any high horse. Remember who pointed out to us about pride going for a fall?” she demanded, poking him in the chest. “They are family. They want to help. So let. Them. Help.” She growled, eyes flashing.
“Well, when you put it that way,” Dom said sheepishly, making String and Sinjin chuckle again.
“She's got your number, Uncle Dom,” Sinjin observed.
“I always had a weakness for strong ladies,” Dom mumbled, rubbing his chest where Jo had poked him.
“Yeah, it'd take one to keep you in line. Pity you never were around long enough to keep one,” Jo said as she smiled at him. “What do you have in mind, String?” Jo asked, turning to String.
“Here's the deal. I know you don't trust the Federation. I get that. You don't know the Federation like we do. But you know us. I'm asking you to trust us when we say they are legit; they are on the up and up,” String said.
“We can negotiate a deal if you'd like,” Jason said. Dom turned his wary eyes to the other man. “I know the major is turning the resistance groups into militia units. We are offering you the same deal. Legitimacy, not rogue status,” he explained.
“We're trained pilots as you know. Trained on modern birds, Dom, not just what you had here,” String pointed out. “We've got access to the blueprints as well as the maintenance and other manuals on the craft. We can replicate parts,” he said.
Jo inhaled sharply, then exhaled slowly in a soft hiss. “That's been a big thing for us,” she said.
It was clear all three pilots were eager to fly the craft. Jo rested a hand on the bird. “She's a handful guys; you've got to be on your toes all the time. Not just situational awareness, but also the bird's system's, everything about her,” she admitted. “It takes a good pilot and engineer to keep her in the air. We've been having some problems with her, and the more we fly her, the more problems have started to crop up,” she explained.
“Well, it's different for us,” Jason said, rubbing his temple and then turning his right wrist to expose the glitter there on his skin. “We've got implants,” he said.
