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The main narration viewpoint will be from Captain Joshua Jacobson, so I'm going to put most of the other people's dialogue as radio chatter.


Captain Miller, Pilot Navajo 1

Captain Blake Stevens, RTO Navajo 1

Captain Noah Dombal, Pilot Navajo 2

Captain Joshua Jacobson, RTO Navajo 2

Act I[]

Parkinson AFB

16 September 2028

Breifing Room 3

Capt. Miller: Here's the deal, nuggets. (gestures to map) There will be two flights of you up there. We'll be up there, and Prime Minister will be up there. Us and Prime Minister will be seperate teams. Rat flight, you're with us. Serpent flight, you're with prime minister. My team, we'll try to shoot the other guys down. A confirmed kill must have a good seven-second lock on. (groans from the nuggets) Prime minister's team, protect that plane. You are his escort. After 2 times, we'll switch. Got it?

Nuggets: Yes sir! (nuggets stand, salute, and file out of the room)

PA: Navajo flight, to your quarters.

Capt. Dombal: All right, they don't have to tell us twice.

Capt. Stevens: Hold on. To our quarters?

Capt. Miller:(Waving his hands) Let's just go.

Quarters, 0523 HRS.[]

Capt. Miller: So then he doesn't even load his gun, all I had to do was punch him.

Capt. Jacobson:(grinning) That's stupid, what kind of person would plan that for nothing?(Opens door)

Secretary of Defense Frankel: Hello gentlemen. Have a seat.

All captains: Uh...(salute, with bewildered looks plastered to their faces)

SecDef Frankel: Have a seat. We need to talk.

Capt. Miller, Capt. Dombal: Y-Yes sir.

SecDec Frankel: (unplugs security camera in corner of room, then smiles.) Now. This order is classified above top secret. It is direct presidential order. There are only three people in the Republic of Wielvakia that know, and that's me, the President, and the Vice President. Do you men understand the secrecy? If so, please tell me that this is a matter only between you men and us three.

All Captains: Yes sir, this is only to stay between us seven.

SecDef Frankel: Ok. (Opens his briefcase, retrieving two documents in an orange envelope) Several heads of state met three months ago and decided that there was to be a squadron created to keep peace within the world. Especially against Olympus International, a company that could be potentially destructive. That squadron was called the Phoenix Air Force. Several nations have put forth their best fighter pilots into the Phoenix Air Force. We haven't yet.

Capt. Miller: So we'll be the Wielvakian contingent?

SecDef Frankel: Exactly.

Capt. Jacobson: Do we have a choice?

SecDef Frankel: No. The only way out is death; you know too much now. I'm not trying to be a threat, but I'm trying to be clear. Now, your orders are this. At 1600 HRS, you are to take off, heading for Tucson's Davis-Monthan AFB. There, you will be given four ADFX-01's. You will have 45 minutes on the ground, then fly East to Oured for your new orders. Don't worry about take-off cleara nces, that's been taken care of. As for your disappearence, the cover story is that there was an engine failiure due to rats. Understand?

All Captains: Yes sir!!(salute)

SecDef Frankel: Dismissed! (Returns salute)

Runway 13, Parkinson AFB, 1545[]

Radio: Navajo one, to Parkinson tower. Request takeoff clearence.

Tower: Cleared for take off, Navajo one. Depart straight out, resume own navigation.

Radio: Navajo one taking off, departing straight out, resuming own navigation.

Capt. Jacobson: Navajo two, requesting takeoff clearence.

Tower: Navajo two, do you read?

Capt. Jacobson: We read, tower. Requesting takeoff on runway 13. (Frowns)

Tower: Navajo two, do you acknowledge the tower's requests?

Capt. Jacobson: We acknowledge. Requesting takeoff. (Puts his hands up halfway in frustration)

Radio: Navajo two, what's the situation?

Tower: Navajo one, we have lost radio contact with Navajo two. Do you have contact?

Radio: Yes, we can hear them. They're requesting takeoff.

Tower: Roger. Navajo two, if you read, you are cleared for takeoff, depart straight out, resume own navigation.

Capt. Jacobson: Roger.

Capt. Dombal: Hang on to your lunch. (Pulls on control stick) Ackk. I love that part.

Capt. Jacobson: Climb to 35 angels, follow Navajo one, hit--

Capt. Dombal: I know.

Radio: Navajo two, contact Statly Departure on 120.425.

Capt. Jacobson: Contacting Statly departure on 120.425...(cuts mic) Ok Dombal, what's the real frequency?

Capt. Dombal: 118.620.

Radio: Navajo 2, switch to Tucson approach. They'll get us in, then we'll be briefed by The President himself. We'll all have helmet hair. Way to make an impression... Switching.

Capt. Jacobson: Switching. (Tunes in channel) Tucson approach, Navajo flight is with you, two Grumman F-14A, ETA 45 minutes.

Tucson approach: Roger. Talk to you in 45.

Capt. Jacobson: Right. Navajo one, maintain radio silence.

Radio: Right. talk to you later.

Capt. Jacobson: (cuts radio), what now?

Capt. Dombal: Please make sure your tray tables and seatbacks are in their upright locked position. (Plugs in afterburner)

Capt. Jacobson: Ack. (Clutches stomach)

Capt. Dombal: Mach one. Ok, wake me when we're there. (Sets autopilot and its back)

Tucson Airspace, 1643 hrs.[]

Tucson Approach: Navajo flight, we see you. Descend and maintain 3 angels, turn right heading 030. 

Radio: Roger. 

Capt: Jacobson: Roger. (Plane descends)

Tucson Approach: Navajo flight, turn right heading 120, descend and maintain 1,500, and make straight in. You are cleared to land. 

Capt. Jacobson: Roger. Ok, it's right there. (Points) I hope you don't mess up again. There goes One. 

Capt. Dombal: Relax. Aaaaaandddddd. (grunts as plane wheels touch runway)

Capt. Jacobson: Navajo flight is on the runway, request taxi. 

Tucson Approach: Contact Tucson tower on 119.925. 

Capt. Jacobson: Contacting...Tucson tower, Navajo two is with you. 

Tower: Take taxiway 3. A few people are waiting for you in hangar 2. (Plane taxis to location)

Capt. Stevens: Ok. Here we are. (Climbs out of cockpit)

President Wensid: Hello, gentlemen. 

All Capt.: (Salutes) 

Capt. Miller: 58th fighter bomber squadron reporting for duty sir. 

Pres. Wensid: Right. I hope Frankel has briefed you. 

Capt. Miller: Yes, sir, he has. 

Pres. Wensid: Well, ok. Take care of the bathroom, stretch, get the luggage together, whatever. You have 45 minutes. Oh, I forgot. When you get there, they'll treat you as if you're a test flight from North Point. Refuel there, and then head 'back' to North Point. Clear?

Capt. Miller: Head to Oured, lie, and then go to North Point.

Pres. Wensid: Exactly. Here's a suggestion/joke. When you get to the point where you lose radar contact, you could fake your death on the radio, if you're bored. You don't have to, but if you do, make it look convincing.

Capt. Miller: Thank you very much, sir.

Pres. Wensid: (extends right arm in a direction, the left is pointed towards a building) On my left is a vending machine, on my right is a latrine. Dismissed!

Act II[]

(All captains board new ADFX-01's)

Tower: Navajos 1-4, please taxi to and hold short of runway 30, inform tower when you are ready.

Radio: Roger. Let's go.

(All taxi to runway)

Radio: Tower, we are on the runway.

Tower: Navajo one, take off, resume own navigation. Navajo two, take off as soon as he clears the flight path and so on. Good luck, guys.

Radio: Roger. See you later.

Radio:...Taking off.

Radio: Move, bro. Ah! Taking off...ackk.

Capt. Jacobson: Taking off. (Pushes throttle, pulls back on control stick) Oowww, I'm the type of guy that likes to roam around, I'm never in one place, I roam from town to town cause I'm a wanderer....

Radio: Funny. All planes check in. Navajo one checking in.

Radio: Navajo two, checking in.

Radio: Red Five standing by. Just kidding, Navajo three, checking in.

Capt. Jacobson: Navajo four checking in.

Radio: All Navajos, turn right heading 315. Switch to 136.000 MHz.

Capt. Jacobson:(Rolls plane) This plane is awesome! Sorry...switching. (Tunes)

Radio: Ladies and Gents, we have reached our crusing altitude. You are now still not able to move about the cabin, just stay harnessed to that ejection seat and keep staring at the radar if you get bored. There are no onborad lavaratories, so we hope you have used the latrine beforehand. Thank you for choosing Tucson Air. Hahaha.

Radio: That reminds me, do you guys have any word games we can play or something? The next six hours will be really boring.

Capt. Jacobson: SIX? Man...ok. (Sets autopilot) Why do people go left in Estovakia? Because they don't have rights. Cue rimshot.

Radio: Haha! Ok. My wife yelled, "Pack your stuff, we have to hit the road!" My fist still hurts.


Radio: Play along, guys. ...Wait, hold on. Number two just lost thrust. Switching to Aux...oh crap, it's- (cuts mic, banks heavily to left)

Radio: Navajo one, please respond...what's with my throttle? Fly you-- (cuts mic, nosedives)

Capt. Jacobson:(Gets the joke) Are you ok? Do you have engine trouble? Ah shoot! Darn you engine number one- (switches off mic, jams joystick to right, then levels off)

Radio: Mayday, mayday, Navajos one, four and two are- No! (nosedives, cuts off mic, and then levels out)

Radio: This is Gran Rugido Departure to Navajo flight, please respond. Navajo flight, do you read me? Hello? Sir, un vuelo Navajo ha pasado a dos millas de distancia de la costa! He perdido el contacto por radio!

Radio: Ok, we're officialy dead. Goodbye, WAF, hello PAF.


Radio: This is Oured Approach to unidentified aircraft. State callsign and intention.

Radio: Ahh......this is...Arthur 1, we're a mantainence flight from North Point, requesting permission to land. We'll stay here for an hour, if it's ok.

Radio: Arthur flight, you have permission to land on runway 23. On a sidenote, did you establish any contact with a Navajo flight that went down near Gran Rugido three hours ago?

Radio: Can't say I have, Apito. Going in to land.

Radio: Arthur two coming in to land.

Radio: Arthur three landing.

Capt. Jacobson: Arthur four coming in for landing. (Cuts off mic, lowers gear and flaps, slows, and lands)

Radio: Arthur flight, tune Apito tower on 124.340. (Capt. Jacobson tunes to tower) Arthur flight, please go to gate B4.

Radio: Why'd you land us at an international airport? People will know who we are!

Radio: No sweat! Just stretch, use the latrines, restaurants and take a nap. We're staying for an hour.

Capt. Jacobson: That's just great. Here we are, trying to be dead, and now eight thousand people are going to know who we are! (Turns off engine, opens canopy and steps out into the setting sun) And this heat! It's horrible! The equator.

Capt. Stevens: Shut up. Checklist. (Uses fingers to outline checklist) Uhh, bathroom, burger joint, nap...maybe skip the nap.

Capt. Miller: Be back here at...(Checks watch) 1745 local time. Go.

Apito International Airport[]

PA: Welcome to Apito International Airport. The current safety level is Orange. Please do not leave your luggage unattended. Will pilot callsigns Arthur 1-4 report to gate C6? Have a nice day.

Capt. Jacobson:(Standing at counter) What the heck?

Capt. Dombal:(Opens wallet) We're not supposed to be here! Who sniffed us out?

Capt. Jacobson: (fiercely whispering) Cheese it.

Vendor:(Holds takeout bag, receipt, and change)......Uh, sir? Here's your change.

Capt. Dombal: Oh, sorry. (Takes change) ......What do we do?

Capt. Jacobson: Just go, that's what the others would do. I think we have a contact here, too. Haha! Look at the TV! (Points)

TV: ...And in other news, there has been no sign of the planes that went down over Gran Rugido. Also, the Minister of Eduation stated today that...

Capt. Jacobson: They believe us. They don't know were here. We're not in danger.


Capt. Miller: Ah, here they are.

???: Welcome gents. (Character wears hoodie with the hood concealing his face)  I'm not supposed to be here, as well. The PAF have sent me to tell you that you will be landing near Fortress Intolerance near North Point. Yes, it does still exist. And you're due there in eight hours.

Capt. Stevens: Sucks that we can't take a 747 there, huh?

Capt. Miller: Right, go to Fortress Intolerance.

???: Got to go. (Walks away)

Capt. Miller: (Waits until contact is out of earshot) Well, might as well get a sitrep.

Capt. Jacobson: I've taken care of my restroom and food business.

Capt. Dombal: Ahh, still have to pick up my burger. (Looks at a direction)

Capt. Stevens: it a good idea to read and fly?

Capt. Miller: (mentally going through pre-pre-flight checklist) What? No! So, you're all done?

Capt. Dombal: Seems like it. What if he was on autopilot? Makes sense.

Capt. Miller: Right. Shall we, gents? (Bows and beckons to gate B4)

Capt. Stevens: We shall. (Starts walking) Hey, you guys haven't seen the TV's, have you? We're officially dead.

Capt. Miller: Yep. Now, currently it is...(looks at directory map which shows time difference between time zones)...2041 hrs in North Point. By the time we get there, it'll be 0500 the next day. you guys have slept, haven't you?

Capt. Jacobson: I was waiting until they turned off the Seatbelt sign, but...Just kidding! No.

Capt. Miller: Ok. (Approaches gate, finds security guard standing there, then shows ID. Guard nods.) I've got connections. Haha, the contact gave me this ID. (Steps onto tarmac, shows ID to a mechanic) Now. Your orders are to head to North Point in formation and at Mach 2. We'll take a break to relieve you of the g-forces, for an hour, then it's back to Mach 2. (Climbs ladder to canopy) See you in six hours, fellas! 

Act III[]

Capt. Jacobson: (Boards ladder to cockpit, puts on helmet and g-suit, closes canopy, runs through pre-flight checklist, then powers up engines, radio, and radar) Arthur 4 checking in.

Radio: Arthur 1 checking in.

Radio: Arthur 2 checking in.

Radio: Arthur 3 checking in.

Radio: Arthur one to tower, request permission to taxi to runway 09.

Tower: Permission granted for Arthur flight to taxi to runway 09, hold short, inform tower upon reaching the runway.

Radio: Taxi to runway 09, hold short, inform tower. (All taxi to runway and stop) We are on runway.

Tower: Arthur flight, you are cleared for takeoff.

Radio: Arthur flight taking off. (All afterburners glow bright orange, planes barrels down runway, and lift into the air)

Tower: Arthur flight, contact Apito departure on 118.935.

Radio: Switching to 118.935.

Capt. Jacobson: (switches to 136.000) I'm in.

Radio: Is everyone else in?

Radio: Yeah. Climb to 38 angels, let's get these pigs moving!

Capt. Jacobson: (attaches oxygen mask, plugs in afterburner, whispers) Here we go. (Slams throttle, plane accelerates)

Radio: Let's start the haul. In a few minutes the seatbelt sign will be turned off, and the flight attendants will be serving dinner and drinks. (mumbling) I wish...

Fortress Intolerance[]

PAF Approach: We have you on radar now, please identify. Hey guys, we got one!

Radio: Navajos, disengage afterburners. This is the Navajo flight from Apito International Airport, inbound for Fortress Intolerance, at altitude 30 angels bearing 60.

PAF Approach: Roger, we see you. It's that flight from Tucson, coming from APO. Uhmm...ok, Navajos, please make straight in on runway 18. You are cleared to land.

Radio: Cleared to land runway 18. (Gear and flaps open from lead ADFX-01) Holy mother...(Fortress Intolerance appears)

Radio: Miller, don't drop out on us this far, Navajo two landing. (Navajo two's plane lands)

Radio: Sorry......(whispering)...focus. (Normal voice) Navajo one landing. (Navajo one touches down)

Radio: Navajo three and four have lined up with runway, Navajo three is going in first.

PAF Approach: Roger.

Capt. Jacobson: (Lowers flaps and gear, pulls back on throttle, and pulls up) Hello, North Point. (Checks VASI/PAPI lights and confirms altitude. As the plane touches down, the right landing gear collapses, turning the plane to the right. The three other captains have left their planes, look at the plane, take just a moment to realize what happened, and rush along with fire crews out to the burning plane) Holy...ow! Ahh..(considers pulling ejection handle, but plane has stopped spinning and moving) Oh crap, no, not now! (Takes a deep breath. Launches canopy away, rips off face mask and harness, and jumps out of cockpit, running toward the fortress)

Capt. Miller, yelling: Where is he?

Fire crew: Bring the hose over here! The fire's near the wing!

Capt. Jacobson: Over here! (Dashes toward the rest of the squadron) I'm ok! 

Fire crew: Listen guys, go to barracks three, they're expecting out, Daniel! Barracks three over there! (Points to barracks) Go! We've got this handled!

All captains: (Run to barracks three, pause, catch breath, and open the door)

PAF Offficial: Welcome to North Point. First of all, who crashed the plane?

Capt. Stevens: Jacobson did, sir! (Points)

PAF Official: Be careful, man! That's not what we look for at the PAF and those planes aren't a dime a dozen, you hear me? All right. Navajo flight...(checks a clipboard)...from Tucson. All right...(makes a mark) You obviously have heard of the corporate annexation of many countries, right? PAF, ah, that's Phoenix Air Force, was created to stop these threats. Yes, they are threats because the militaries that they no control are too strong. Moreover, they have the intent to annex more countries. We stop them, acting as a worldwide Air Force. We've also presently recruited pilots from Erren and Yuktobania, among others. You'll be meeting them soon. For now, these are your barracks, and here's a schedule and map. Have a nice day, pilots. (Leaves)

Capt. Stevens: (Holding breath, then hears door close behind him)...So. (Hands in pockets) Something you want to explain, Jacobson?

Capt. Jacobson: (Checks the wreckage outside of the window to stall for time, wreckage fire has been contained and plane is being hauled to hangar five) Ahh. Well. (Uses hands to illustrate story) I just followed the Wielvakian Air Force landing procedure, and when I hit the ground, crack! The right gear just collapses on me. That's all.

Capt. Miller: That's all? (Gets wide eyed) You put the lives of one of my pilots in harm's way! (Mutters) That's all...

Capt. Jacobson, bewildered: What?! Who?

Capt. Stevens: You. Heck, we can't go fighting terrorists without you, and we sure as heck can't be fighting terrorists with malfunctioning right gears! May not be your fault, but you got to be careful.

Capt. Miller: Yeah. ...Man, what time do they serve grub here?!

Capt. Dombal: (Checks watch and yawns) It's four in the morning, breakfast isn't until six. Better be going to sleep. (Collapses down on a bunk and closes eyes, while the rest watch, then do the same.) 

The end