Belinea Page 4

  Master Sergeant Evans continued to walk briskly. “Whoever told you there were bars and hookers here lied.”

  Commander Jones and Willits were still trying to keep up. Willits talked to the back of her head, “Maybe we just wanted to see you.”

  Evans, still walking at a brisk pace, replied, “If only the feeling were mutual.”

  Jones continued. “Come on, maybe hang out and teach the cadets a thing or two?”

  Evans never broke stride as she turned the corner to walk down a second long hallway. “What you two could teach those cadets wouldn’t fill a bubble gum wrapper.”

  Jones was stupid enough to speak. “Harsh, Sargent.”

  Evans walked behind another counter now and took a sip of her coffee. “And yet, true.”

  The three stopped in front of sliding doors that were behind the counter. Willits, speaking softly, said, “I need two pilots, preferably close to graduating, and they need to be C-62T certified.”

  Evans was confused. “All the graduates are now C-62T certified. Why do you need two?”

  Willits was looking around to make sure no one heard him. Two cadets walked by, and other than their very slight salute had utterly ignored them. Willits spoke as they walked away, holding up a small stick that was an electronic file. “I am recruiting them for a DAG mission.”

  Evans sounded skeptical. “Flying a C-62T? That’s not a mission. That’s babysitting an Ambassador for the weekend.”

  Willits spoke a little louder now. “Convincing them it’s a mission will be my problem, not yours. Are you going to help me, or am I going to have to go through other channels?”

  Evans was now insulted. “Other channels? Really? This is only my second cup of coffee today Willits, don’t push me.”

  Willits rolled his eyes as Jones casually smirked. Evans walked through the doors, and Jones and Willits followed. They walked into a vast hangar with lots of spacecraft maintained by a couple of hundred cadets and maintenance crew. The hangar was enclosed, approximately thirty meters high and two kilometers long. It had six large doors that led to the outside landing pads of the base. A lot had changed since Willits and Jones were here. They were both taking everything in while Evans continued to walk ahead of them. She spoke over the loud noises. “So just two cadets that can fly a C-62T?”

  Willits lightly shouted, “Preferably, the best two pilots you got, based on overall scores and performance records. This may be slightly more complicated than just transporting.”

  Evans smiled as she continued to walk. “Someone as good as Rix?”

  Willits was still looking at all the things in the hangar while he and Jones followed Evans. Jones then shouted, “That would be ideal.”

  Evans walked under a massive transport ship that was being worked on. She did not need to duck, but Willits and Jones did slightly. “How is my girl doing? You haven’t pissed her off yet?”

  Jones responded, “She’s an excellent pilot, albeit a pain in my ass sometimes..”

  Evans continued walking, “Well, you two aren’t exactly Commanders Warm and Fuzzy. Why can’t you just use Rix?”

  Willits said, “We can’t.”

  Evans walked up to a flight maintenance crew member, who quickly saluted. “I need these two prepped and ready by 0800 hours. And make sure the A-11’s are ready for final testing tomorrow. All of them. (turning back to Willits) Why not?”

  The flight crew member saluted and walked off. Jones said, “She caught a glimpse of Willits in the shower and has been temporarily blinded for two weeks.”

  Evans responded, “It would be longer for me. Sinkai is a great pilot and an outstanding student, highest marks in his class. But you don’t want him.”

  Commander Jones looked puzzled. “Why?”

  Evans was very candid. “Because he’s a weasel, and high marks aren’t everything. Look at the two of you. You need good pilots, but excellent soldiers. Two you can trust in combat, am I correct? That is why you are asking me. If you just wanted any two, you could’ve sent me an electronic order.”

  Willits looked at her suspiciously. He did not trust anyone at the moment other than Jones. “Maybe I just need two babysitters to fly an Ambassador on a C-62T.”

  Evans looked directly up at him, inching a little closer. “You gonna tell me what this is about?”

  Willits and Jones just looked at each other. Evans tilted her head and continued. “If you had Rix or Molinari here, you wouldn’t be looking for two rookie pilots.”

  After a pause, Willits said, “I need two pilots, are you gonna help me?”

  Once Evans realized she was not going to get an answer, she began walking again. She said as they followed her, “The two you want are Tunsall and Trujillo. Trujillo is obvious. Excellent pilot, an outstanding soldier, moderately insubordinate. He jumps into the fire but hates rules. You will love him. He reminds me of you.”

  Jones spoke from behind, “Me or Willits?”

  Evans slightly talked over her shoulder. “Is there a difference?”

  Jones said, “I am only marginally a prick, not full-blown.”

  Willits looked at him disapprovingly. Evans walked up to another crew cadet. Evans said, “Fair point.”

  Willits asked, “What about the other one, Tunsall?”

  Evans signed a tablet that the crew officer shoved in her face, as he scurried off after. “He is quiet, cerebral, not sociable. But he is the best pure pilot I have ever seen come out of here.”

  Jones shouted, “What’s the problem?”

  Evans stopped and turned to look at both of them. Trying to articulate her thoughts, she responded, “The rest of the cadets don’t trust him. He is different. The medical staff cannot figure out what he is, but he is not human. He has some connections because I don’t know how he got here. He is also smart, probably too smart. His aptitude tests are off the chart, and his classmates hate him for it. He should be first in class if not for a few minor incidents with Trujillo that prevented that.”

  Willits looked down at Evans. “They know each other well?”

  Evans began walking again. “Like two peas in a pod. The cadets all respect Trujillo, and most like him. But Trujillo is the only person who even talks to Tunsall. We call them TnT. Complete opposites, but you won’t find one without the other. And you won’t convince one without the other. I sometimes think they share the same brain.”

  Willits spoke slightly more softly now, giving his orders to Evans. “These are my orders, where can I find them?”

  Evans put the orders into her tablet and quickly read them. “A security transport mission to Belinea protecting Ambassador Bird. These orders say Meyers already provided you pilots.”

  Willits pointed to further spots on the orders “Per Commander Willits and Commander Jones discretion, DAG will provide any support crew needed. Signed, Director Kimakawa.”

  Evans now thought about something, curiosity rising in her voice. “This is a simple Ambassador transport mission. Why are you two assigned to it? And why is Meyers forcing you his crew instead of yours?”

  Willits took a deep breath before speaking, “Well, now you have come to the root of the problem. I asked myself the same question.”

  Evans looked at Jones. “What did Kimakawa say?”

  Jones replied, “We were cut off by Meyers and this C-62T certification bullshit. Kimakawa never gave us an answer after that. It was clear we were not going to get one.”

  Evans was trying to put two and two together. “Well, that’s a bullshit technicality. It doesn’t make any sense that he wouldn’t allow you to use your own crew... unless.....”

  Willits now tilted his head. “Exactly...hence why we are here. I’m certainly not going to use his.”

  Another cadet walked up to Evans. “Master Sergeant Evans. Sergeant Murray has a problem with one of the A-11’s. He doesn’t
think it will be ready for testing tomorrow.”

  Evans began to quickly punch things into her tablet and before handing them back to Willits. “I am going to have to deal with this. I attached the files for Tunsall and Trujillo onto those orders. The two of them are likely in the flight simulation room on deck 5, preparing for final performance flights with the other cadets. You remember how to get there, correct?”

  They both nodded. Willits then reached into his other pocket, which was another stick, this one with a seal. He said, “Sabrina…”

  She turned around, momentarily thrown off by being addressed by her first name. Willits tossed her the stick and said, “It’s a simple transport. But if something happens, give that to Kimakawa, personally.”

  Evans, holding the stick, said, “Like if what happens?”

  Willits said, “Like serious shit, that shouldn’t happen. Like the reason, I’m picking my two pilots.”

  Evans nodded and walked off. After Evans was a good twenty meters away, Jones turned to Willits and whispered, “You remember how to get to flight simulation from here?”

  Willits was still looking at Evans as she walked away. Evans was now barking orders at a few cadets. Willits slightly turned, trying to find the way out of the hanger. Reluctantly pointing, he then said to Jones, “It’s that way. No…, wait, that way.”

  Jones rolled his eyes. “Forgive me for having zero confidence in your navigation.”

  Willits began taking a few steps “It’s this way...I think?”

  Jones quickly answered, “I would sooner follow the Devil to Confession.”

  Willits looked at him with another disapproving look. Jones whistled at a nearby crew cadet. When the cadet turned, he said, “How do we get to flight simulation on deck five?”

  The cadet pointed to doors in the opposite way Willits was going. “Through the doors, down the corridor to the end. Hang a left, get on the elevator to deck five.”

  Jones smacked Willits on the shoulder as they began to walk that way. “See what happens when you just ask for directions?”

  Willits mimicked Jones. “See what happens when you have to ask for help….”

  Jones now gave him a disapproving look. Willits continued, now in his voice. “Next time I leave you with a hoard of ugly women, watch what happens.”

  Jones answered, “That’s cruel. I would sooner leave you on the battlefield, alone to die.”

  Willits countered, “Careful what you ask for.”

  Belinea 1.5

  The Moon, Odgins Military Academy

  Deck 5 Flight Simulator

  “Bullseye...Sinkai down.”

  A long, narrow, tube-like room housed eight simulator boxes on each side, sixteen total. The simulator boxes were cockpit shaped—all black, with multiple wires and hoses popping out. Two red flashing lights spun on the ceiling as all the simulator cockpits slowly opened. Each cadet came climbing out, stepping up to the small, narrow, metal crate walkway that divided the room. One by one, they began filing down the walkway. Trujillo and Tunsall were last in line.

  As they came down the stairs, they passed a control panel with multiple personnel operating the simulator. Trujillo looked of Spanish descent, with dark hair, brown eyes, and a muscular frame. Tunsall was taller, just over 6 feet, with sandy brown caramel hair, green eyes, and a wiry frame. Two pilots were waiting at the end for Trujillo and Tunsall. As Trujillo approached, one of them said, “Trujillo, you are the luckiest son of a bitch I have ever met.”

  Trujillo stopped and looked him straight in the eyes. “Is that right?”

  Tunsall, not saying anything, kept walking by, behind Trujillo. The first pilot who barked and was now staring at Trujillo, said “That was complete bullshit. I’ve never seen somebody get so lucky so many times in a row.”

  Trujillo just tilted his head “If you think it was luck, let’s do it again.”

  Tunsall, who was at least two steps past Trujillo and the other pilot, suddenly stopped. Not saying anything, he turned around, but on his helmet, and started walking back towards the steps. Trujillo never turned around to look at him, only still staring at the pilot who barked. Tunsall stopped at the foot of the stairs, waiting. After a few seconds, the pilot that barked shook his head and said, “You’re such an asshole. Both of you.”

  He walked off. As he did, Tunsall turned around again, taking his helmet back off. Trujillo glanced behind himself, looking at Tunsall, and gave a small smile. Both men then walked out of the room, down towards the control panels. Standing there were Willits and Jones.

  Willits, with his arms crossed, spoke. “That was some pretty nice flying there.”

  Trujillo and Tunsall stopped. Trujillo spoke, “Thank you, sir. Were you watching?”

  Willits continued. “We were, on the monitors. Gentlemen, this is Commander Jones, I am Commander Willits of the Delegate Ambassador Guard. Can we speak to you over here in private, please?”

  All four men walked over to a small room off to the side of the simulation room. Willits stared at Trujillo. “You must be Trujillo, and you (glancing at Tunsall) must be Tunsall?”

  Tunsall said nothing. Trujillo looked apprehensive before speaking. “Yes, sir.”

  Willits took a deep breath while looking at his tablet. “According to this, you fine gentlemen are scheduled to graduate as officers next week. Second Lieutenants. What are your plans after?”

  Trujillo raised an eyebrow. “Sir?”

  Willits, now glancing back up to Trujillo and again looking at him eye to eye. “Plans, Trujillo, plans. Belinean-Earth forces for peacekeeping? Possible officers in the DAG, protecting the bureaucrats? Good enough pilot scores, perhaps trying to get assigned to a Belinean AuFa Carrier flying Fighters?”

  Trujillo, still slightly confused by the line of questioning, responded. “Sir, we have no say. We turn in a request to our....”

  Willits changed the tone, now not smiling. “Blah, blah, blah, yes, I am aware, it’s a request. If it was your fucking choice, what would you want?”

  Tunsall now understood and spoke out of turn. “We are pilots, sir. We both want to fly fighters.”

  Tunsall was staring at Willits intensely, almost as if he would stab him in the chest with a pencil. Jones, staring at Tunsall and noticing, with a touch of sarcasm, spoke. “He speaks. I was beginning to think he (nodding at Trujillo) did all the speaking for you.”

  Tunsall, still staring at Willits with piercing green eyes, nodded at Jones and said, “I was beginning to think you did the same for him.”

  Jones took a few paces forward, now standing face to face with Tunsall, looking down at him. Tunsall, looking up, never changed the expression on his face, still a glaring stare. After a few seconds, Jones cracked a small smile and walked back over to the desk. He crossed his arms, leaned on the top, and stared at both of them while Willits continued. “I got a personnel file in here, for both of you. Outstanding marks in Academics, Marksmanship, top of the class in flight school skill levels. Two instances of insubordination, one involving disobeying direct orders, the other a failure to cooperate, what should I know about this?”

  Trujillo and Tunsall said nothing. Both did a small glance down, nothing more. Willits was now annoyed. “I can send Commander Jones down to talk to your classmates, find out the real story. Or you can stop wasting everyone’s time and just tell us. What happened?”

  Trujillo decided to speak candidly but did not ask for permission. “The direct order was bullshit, sir. It was an exercise.”

  Jones cut him off. “Bullshit? Did Master Sergeant Evans call it bullshit? Or is her version different than yours?”

  Tunsall said, “Sir, in our opinion, the exercise was unfair. As for the other, we’re not rats.”

  Jones was now amused. “Rats? What do you know about being rats? Were you tortured? Lost a limb? Waterboarded? Keeping quiet around here
to protect your classmates is not exactly sworn secrecy. What did you get, an hour of detention? Sent to bed without dinner?”

  Trujillo was agitated. “Seventy-two hours confinement, no passes for a year...sir.”

  Willits almost laughed. Jones smiled and said, “Whoah, a little testy for breaking out after curfew, no?”

  The attitude of these two officers did not amuse Trujillo, but for whatever reason, he seemed to like them. “Permission to speak, sir?”

  Willits, now done smiling, responded. “Granted. And dispense with the sir, it’s either Willits or Commander.”

  Trujillo took a breath. “Commander, why are you here, did we do something wrong?”

  Willits now got serious. “I’m here because the unit I’m in, you do get tortured, beaten, and killed for information. And then they find your family and do the same. I’m here because I’m looking for two officers for an assignment.”

  Tunsall was now intrigued. “What kind of assignment, Commander?”

  Willits now began slowly pacing. “I need two pilots, adequately trained. It’s to support a highly classified DAG mission that will require a month of travel log. It will require a second level of security clearance, which you don’t currently have. Combat is likely. “

  After a pause, Tunsall spoke. “What will we be flying?”

  Jones answered from across the room, “What are you qualified to fly?”

  Trujillo turned to Jones. “Everything....”

  Willits, still holding the tablet but now below his belt with his hands crossed. “Cocky little bastard, aren’t you?”

  Trujillo, a matter of factly, said, “Speaking Mandarin Commander, no. But flying, we hold our own.”

  Tunsall added, “Or you wouldn’t be here.”

  Jones, slightly puzzled, said, “Excuse me?”

  Tunsall spoke. “No one goes looking for two mediocre pilots. Someone told you we were the best.”

  Jones barked, still with his arms crossed. “What makes you think we don’t have another meeting after this with two better pilots?”

  Trujillo was now deadly serious. “Because there are no two better pilots, Commander. Not here, at least. Or do you need to go watch us with our classmates in the simulators again?”