A/N: This is my first Ace Combat fic.

As usual, read, review, follow & fave please. Toda.

Broken Arrow: Military code phrase that a ground unit has been overrun and is facing imminent destruction, and all available air forces within range are to provide air support immediately.

He was known only to his Squadron members by his call-sign, "Blaze." But to his family and his closest friends, he was Jonathon Winters. Born in July of 1988, he quickly discovered a passion for flying, and in the 2010 Circum-Pacific War, he and his Squadron quickly rose to fame, first as the "Four Wings of Sand Island," and later as "The Demons of Razgriz," striking fear into the hearts of their enemies, Yuktobonian, Osean, or otherwise.

After the war had ended, he began a relationship with his "Wingman," Captain Kei Nagase, Call-sign "Edge," and not long after, they ended up married. In his entire career, he had only lost one pilot, Captain Alvin H. Davenport, call-sign "Chopper." It was an unnecessary loss, but Blaze was still haunted by it six years later. And tonight would be no different.

Blaze was back in the cockpit of his favorite fighter, the XF-02, codenamed "Wyvern." He was flying freely over November City, with Kei, Chopper, and their green but still deadly trailman, Hans Grimm, Call-sign "Archer." The war was over, only peace existed, and the Razgriz were to do a fly-over to open the festivities for the World Cup, the biggest event in soccer.

All of a sudden, Yuktobonian Fighter Jets appeared from out of nowhere, attacking anything and everything in sight.

"Wardog, engage!" Blaze shouted, taking out the nearest enemy fighters with quick missile shots and cannon fire. "Split up and let's handle this!"

"Wardog 2, roger!"

"Wardog 3, roger!"

"Wardog 4, roger!"

Not long after calling for his Squadron to engage, Blaze heard a faint "Damn!" from Chopper.

"You alright, man?" Blaze asked. His usually calm Southern drawl was laced with concern.

"Not really," came Chopper's too-calm reply. "My plane's toast."

"Can you bail out, brother?"

"I think so." Chopper kept flying as long as he could, and as soon as he saw an opportunity, he grabbed the ejection handle and prepared to bail out. Before the canopy had a chance to pop off, a barrage of missiles hit him, and he exploded in a ball of fire.

"Chopper!" Jon's eyes flew open as he quickly sat up, breathing like he had just run ten miles and sweating at about the same rate. He took a second to regain himself before looking at the clock next to his bed. 0220. He groaned in frustration and tried to get back to sleep, but it just wasn't in the cards. He tossed and turned for the better part of the next half-hour, eventually waking Kei.

"Another nightmare?" Kei asked, voicing her concern for her husband. She reached over and placed a hand on his shoulder, and she could feel him trembling.

"Worst one yet," Jon replied. "We were doing a fly-over for the World Cup in November City, and we were ambushed like before. Only this time, Chop almost made it out. He... He was blown out of the sky before he could, though. All these years, and I still feel like it was my fault."

Kei drew closer to Jon, resting her head on his chest. "It's not your fault," she said reassuringly. "If anything, the blame was on the shoulders of Grabacr. And they have already paid for their sins."

Jon let out a sigh of content and wrapped an arm around Kei, kissing her before drifting back to sleep.

So what'd you think? And yes, I had to throw in a World Cup reference. I'm a Manchester United Fan, but I really hope that Team USA wins it this year. Don't forget: Review, follow & fave! Toda!