Author Topic: 118th Tactical Fighter Wing: Aces are Born - Mission 10 - Tango Line  (Read 75750 times)

Forum Name: NoZoner
Character Name: Ian Granville
Character Age (18-50): 28
Piloting Style: Air-to-Ground
Personality: Understanding and compassionate, yet stern and pragmatic. Likes to try out crazy things, but understands that pushing things too far can yield disastrous results
Callsign: Enfield 1
Backstory: After losing his mother due to birthing complications, Ian was left in the care of distant relatives living in the rural countryside. His uncle worked as a crop-duster, and as a result he spent much time in the roosterpit of an old Antonov An-2. Ian learned to love the feeling of flight, and at age 14 he received his pilots' license and began work as a crop-duster. Two years after he completed flight school however, his father returned to take custody, and he moved back to his city of birth. Unfortunately, after having lost his job and turning to alcoholism years before, his father was extremely abusive, often lashing out at Ian on grounds that he caused his mother to die. Seeking escape, Ian left only a year after he returned with his father and tried to live on his own. Things seemed at their worst until Ian met an air force recruiter looking to enlist young adults for an officer training program...



I stepped into the hangar with one of the maintenance workers. In the middle of the parking space sat an old Phantom F-4, which had obviously had been put through a lot of abuse. All around it, there were mechanics and electricians working to restore it and have it ready for flight. "We only got her in this morning, so we're still working on it." Looks like I won't have any action for a bit. "Do you know when it'll be ready?," I asked. "The soonest will probably be in four or five hours. Just sit tight and we'll have everything ready."

I returned to the barracks I was assigned to and dropped down on the bed. I was already told that the other pilots were out on a mission to clear out an enemy airbase, and I'd have to wait until they return before I could get into any of the excitement. In an attempt to do something productive, I decided to page through the F-4 user manual. I try to get comfortable, and heave out a heavy sigh.

I wonder what the others are doing right now.

Brilliant intro, NoZoner.
I love it.
Added.

I take a hand radio out of my flightsuit, now leaning completely on Ryan. "Talon, this is thunder actual. We need e-evac..."

Nateson walks into the barracks as he pulls out a small chest from under his bunk and opens it as he takes out a luxury cigar and a full lighter.

"Here we go..."

Nateson looks to the new pilot with a somewhat sad expression.

"Hey new blood... You smoke?"

he says as he places the cigar between his lips, as he flicks the lighter twice before a flame ignites, he lights his cigar and lets out a white puff of smoke a moment later.

I take a hand radio out of my flightsuit, now leaning completely on Ryan. "Talon, this is thunder actual. We need e-evac..."
"Roger that."
I switch channels to home base channel.
"Base, this is Talon 3. All SAM sites are down, and hangars are destroyed. However, Thunder Actual is down in the airbase. Requesting SAR."

I look up from the manual at the guy who just entered the room. I tried smoking a couple of times in the past when people offered, but for some reason I've always hated the sensation of having anything other than fresh air in my lungs.

"No, I don't smoke."

I usually don't mind too much if I hear an offer, but for some reason my response came out a little more hoarse than it should have been. I get back to reading and try to fight off an old memory, but the scent of the newly lit cigar causes it to resurface.

"S-sir, what's the situation with the evac? W-we won't hold out much longer..."

"Alright then..."

Nateson closes the chest and slides it under as he pulls out a larger one containing a helmet and mask, as well as a few papers. He looks over these belongings before taking the helmet and mask as he then closes the chest and slides it back under

"Boy you wanna go out for a flight? I gotta catch up with some friends you could say.."

He says as he lets out another puff.

"S-sir, what's the situation with the evac? W-we won't hold out much longer..."
"Special Forces teams are en route to your location. Can you hold out for about 5 minutes?"
FIVE MINUTES LATER
"This is ESAF Special Forces, where are the downed airmen?"

I relay our position. "Hurry. We need support."

I look up again to see him getting ready for flight. The thought of flying immediately casts off the memory, and some vigor returns to my voice.

"Sure, if you have a seat in the back."

The F-4 has two seats: one for the pilot, and another for the weapons systems officer. I've been a WSO a few times in the past, but I never liked the feeling of it. That said, it still beats lying in bed all day long.

I decide to get up and introduce myself. "Nice to meet you. I'm Ian."

I relay our position. "Hurry. We need support."
"Roger that."
The special forces team eliminates any ground threat to you and you're saved.
"Returning to base."

I turn and return to base for refuel and debriefing.

I turn and return to base for refuel and debriefing.
Mission accomplished basically.

I return to base, after patrolling for a while to make sure that everything was dead, then flew escort for the helicopters. No resistance.
"Talon 3-1, requesting permission to land."
"Roger that, 3-1, you are cleared to land."

I wake up in a hospital bed, immobile due to my legs being in casts. I wonder if everyone got back safe?