Chapter 10

“I need quiet!” demanded Alan. Captain Scarlett was back to active duty. “Dom, did you get hit?” Alan suspected they got lazed and quickly hit a query for IFF (Information Friend or Foe) from all nearby ships and satellites and captured all responses.

“God damnit, I can’t see. We were lazed.”

“We’re good, I was looking down, I still have an eye. Master Chief! Dom is now on sick leave. Give me all pilots controls and set a course for Camp Schmitt.” He watched all his switch indicators switch titles; his panel was now the Pilots control panel.

“There you go, we have to do a full orbit for Schmitt.”

“Lay in the course and copy it over to the analog nav system, we may have to use chaff rockets again.”

“Again?” asked the confused Master Chief.

“Never mind, that was a different flight.” He keyed the radio and called, “Navy Control, Navy Control, this is Greyhound Zero Three and we are declaring an IFE, I repeat In Flight Emergency. We have been lazed and the pilot is blinded. Requesting a one orbit straight in at Camp Schmidt and an ocular surgeon standing by.”

“Ah, roger Greyhound Zero Three, this is Navy Control. Nav query shows you have a good course laid in. Continue on course and Camp Schmidt has been advised. Navy Control out.”

It was a full agonizing minute when they heard “Greyhound Zero Three, this is Camp Schmitt, the hangar bay is clear for you, surgeon prescribes cold compresses.”

“Roger. Greyhound Zero Three standing by.”

“Camp Schmitt standing by.”

“I need a compress, who has access to a med kit?” asked Alan. Finally, Ben handed him a package of gauze. “That’s a Kotex!”

“He’s navy,” said Pandora. “He’ll be proud to wear it.”

Alan tried to hold back the laughter as he soaked the gauze with water from a drinking bottle. “Here, hold this on your eyes.”

“Is it really a Kotex?” asked Dom as he placed the moist bandage on his burning eyes.

“Of course, only the best for our boys in blue.”

Dom could tell by touch that it was just gauze, but he went along with their kidding even though his heart was shattered. He knew that this was his last flight. “Yeah, this helps, thanks girls.”

It was tense and quiet as Alan worked with the Master Chief to pilot the unfamiliar ship into a higher orbit. “Passing over star base Dendam,” called Master Chief Ellis. He studied his monitors then called out, “they painted us.” Dendam was the top spaceport for the Eastern Bloc and they just hit the U-700 with radar.

“Keep an eye on them, chief...”

“We got birds in the air. I see one ... no, there’s two SSM-127 missiles rising, time to impact three minutes.”

“Just continue on course,” said Alan as the main booster engine kicked back in and started lifting them to Camp Schmitt’s altitude.

“Time to impact still three minutes ... we’re out pacing them sir!”

“Keep an eye on them, we’ll be at altitude soon enough.

“What’s going on?” asked Eris. She sounded horribly nervous.

“Relax, Alan is flying,” said Pandora. “He’s got plenty of hours on this ship...” Actually, all of his hours on the U-700 were as passenger.

“SSM-127 missiles have dropped off and are falling,” said Master Chief Ellis. “We just cost the Eastern Bloc twenty million bucks!”

“What does that mean?” asked Eris.

“That means the surface to space missiles they shot at us ran out of gas.” Pandora looked up and saw that Sergeant Rodriguez and Eris were holding hands across the aisle.

“Greyhound Zero Three this is Camp Schmitt, you are clear for straight in on hanger deck one. Medical personnel are standing by. Seal up you’ll be doing a zero atmosphere evacuation.”

“Greyhound Zero three copy.” ‘Now all we have to do is stick the landing,’ thought Alan, “Ok, everyone, gloves and helmets on and locked, we’re going to vent the atmosphere.” He saw the huge wagon wheel station gleaming in the sunlight ahead of him and thought how it must pain the Marines that they can’t paint it camouflage green.

Pandora leaned forward and helped her sister get the military style gloves back on and insured her helmet was locked, then turned to help Alex. She then went forward and checked on Ben and Hector. Neither one of them ever tried to open their masks.

“Ok we’re good back here,” she said as she sat down again.

“Ok, Master Chief, vent the cabin.” He worked the tricky alignment with the hangar deck, allowing flight control to match the station rotation. A series of lights above and below the huge hangar door guided him in. “Master Chief, please extend the landing gear, I can’t reach the lever.”

“Gear coming down.” The wheeled gear came down and in station mode, a metal pad extended down among the tires to attach to the steel hangar floor magnetically.