Episode 5

Chapter 12

Captain Amy 'Rolling Stone' Stone, USAF

Sunday, 4:25am.

"Rolling Stone, you are cleared for landing. Winds are adverse at 30 miles an hour."

Adverse winds. Ha!

I barely looked at the controls of the fighter. I didn't need too. Despite what my flight instructor said, there were only so many controls that were important at any one time. And I landed smoothly.

I hopped out of the fighter and moved towards the pilots lounge. With luck, I had time to grab a quick bit of coffee and a doughnut before the after action review.

The other pilots of Hawk Flight were gathering there too.

"Yo Thunderfeet, how's your daughter?"

"Ashley's doing fine. She's doing well in competitions. The Air Force Academy is still trying to actively recruit her though. How are your sons?"

"Two are in Afghanistan. The other is still in Maryland."

"Which one is the mad scientist one again?"

"Jacob. My husband told me that he's got his project up and running."

"Wasn't he in some sort of accident?"

"Yeah, but you know how it is with us Stones. We come back quicker than a boomerang. He was in the hospital for a short time, then left with a permanent limp."

"Ouch. That must have bothered him."

"Not too much."

"I thought he was going to join the military, either Air Force or Marines."

"We hadn't convinced him yet. I know we were plotting to set them up in college if not in high school, but Jacob seems disillusioned with the military mindset. The fact that Ivy League schools were already offering him all expense paid packages didn't help my recruitment plans much. Hell, half of them want him to join their teaching staff afterwards."

"Having a limp will certainly be trouble with the entrance requirements. But if he's as smart as you say, maybe the Academy will try to get him to teach there, too."

"We'll see. They tend to be pretty strict."

"Excuse me, may I speak with Captain Stone?"

I turned and saw the ship's chaplain.

"Captain Stone? Could you please come with me?"

"What's wrong, Pastor O'Hare?"

"Not here. In my office."

Pastor O'Hare led me through the passageways to the religious area of the ship.

I started to get worried when he led me past his office into the nondenominational chapel. He closed the doors behind us and sat me down in the front pew. He asked the ship's rabbi to give us a few minutes alone in the chapel.

The rabbi agreed and promised we would not be disturbed.

I was seriously worried by now.

Then O'Hare turned to me and spoke in a way too concerned tone. "Captain Stone?"

"Yes?"

"We very recently received word that Sgt. David Stone, USMC has died in the line of duty."

"What? How? When?"

The pastor sat down next to me. "Your son died in the line of duty. It happened a couple of days ago. Details are sketchy at this point."

"Bullshit. They could tell you this much, they could easily have told you more."

"You know security concerns."

"All too well." I got up and started pacing.

Pacing was a habit I learned from my husband's family. Whenever there was a big decision, or when they thought there was some fact just beyond what they were grasping, they paced.

"This happened in Afghanistan?"

"No, Tajikistan. That's one of the few details I did get."

I stopped pacing as I made a decision. No parent would ever accept so few details on their child's death. If the answers were not here, then I would go where the answers were. And the military was going to cooperate. Under the hardship leave rules, they had to let me attend the funeral.

This time, it was going to be my family tradition. I had told Daniel about it a while ago, and he approved heartily. We would be buried in the country we gave our lives in.

"Pastor, please make the needed arrangements. I intend to see my son buried in the nation he died in."

Chapter 13

Tiffany

Personal log (voice), Tiffany French, Captain of the Flying Dutchman, 6:50am, October 29th 2006.

The Flying Dutchman flew on through the European Union's airspace relatively unchallenged after a conversation held over Viano do Castelo, Portugal. I'm not sure whether they believed that I was simply on a research mission, or it was an admission that they did not possess individual craft strong enough to challenge me.

Either way, I was not going to give them reason to regret that choice.

After that I went back to sleep.

The Flying Dutchman flew across Portugal, turned to the north east over western Spain, and cut across southeastern France. I was woken up as we passed the French - Italian border.

"Joe. Situation report."

"We have crossed the French - Italian border. Dawn has happened, but local forecasters expect heavy precipitation. Currently they are divided as to whether the weather will be snow or rain."

I see. I dressed and moved to the command seat. There I looked at the holographic scanners. At the moment, it was snowing. "Joe, did Jacob build a system for this?"

"Yes. You want a composite data scan, or CDS."

"Ok. Give me a CDS."

"Done."

The holographic projection looked a lot like the targeting scanners.

Hopefully nothing I could see now would be taking a shot at me.

"Incoming call."

"Who is it?"

"Your father."

I held my first reaction in. Smart as this ship is, it would not understand. "Very well. Put the call through and let me know when we are within 20 miles of the Swiss border."

"Done."

I wished the next voice I would hear was as cooperative.

"This is Captain Tiffany French of the Flying Dutchman. How may I help you?"

"You can help me by learning from last night's sermon and honoring your Father."

"Oh really." I put enough sarcasm in that statement to choke it.

"Captain? You're no captain. You're just a young fool who needs somebody to help you make the right choices."

"Whatever."

"And where in the name of God are you?"

"Italy."

"Get back here at once!"

"No."

'Defying God again?"

"Not God. You."

"I am a chosen messenger of Almighty God Himself. When you defy me, you defy God."

"Bullshit."

"Honor thy Father and mother. Of the two, only I am worth honoring. So shut up and get back here to my house."

Oh how I so wanted to break the communication link.

But I decided to stop holding things in.

"Never. I'm living with mom. You are not my dad. My dad would not have rejoiced at the AIDS announcement. If I had a dad, he would have been supporting me after all the problems I had last week. And after the divorce I will never speak to you again. There is no reason for me to go near your house."