I own nothing.

Mercy? Don't fool yourself. In war, we're useless and expendable to them- which is why we need to leave. Those that believe in mercy right now, learn the hard way.

Quote from classic Osean war movie "Quiet Behind the Lines."

7/18/04

The panics of a few days ago had settled. The reality that tanks and troops and planes were going to pour into the city had been realized by the remaining denizens of Los Canas, and they now resigned themselves to their fate.

Vapor Squadron found themselves in the middle of a whirlwind at base. Surviving units had poured in, preparing for a last stand with the Erusians, and no new equipment or parts came in. Food was running out, and everyone thought the battle had already been lost.

Geoff sat in the lobby of the quarters, trying his hardest not to get sucked into the pessimism surrounding him. Like a young boy with houseguests, he, Noah, and Duncan were told to give their room to an AC-130 crew falling back from their base in the Altoora Desert. In the lobby, Courtney was brooding, Duncan was scowling, and Noah was with the repair crew who finally managed to find enough time to install his new airbrake, a task delayed for weeks. Zeke, Trent, and DJ hung around the reception desk looking dazed, and most of the other the other officers and enlisted pilots scurried about looking for something to do.

Lindsay proved to be the sole exception. She sobbed into her hands, shrieking that she didn't want to die at the top of her lungs.

"Look Lindsay, it's okay," Mary consoled, "It isn't like the entire Erusian Air Force is like Yellow Squadron. Even then, just stick with Chef and me during the battle. You'll live, and even get a few kills. I promise."

"Really," Lindsay said, her voice rising youthfully. Damn, Mary thought, she's just so childish it hurts.

"Yup, really."

"That's great! They won't see what's coming when they'll see all three of us!" Lindsay replied, but it looked like she was trying to convince herself.

Geoff had walked over to the former reception desk, and was talking in hushed tones to Trent, DJ, and Zeke.

"I'm just really nervous about when Erusea attacks LC, eh. I don't want to be caught on the ground if they bomb the airport," Zeke said.

"So, I heard they'll send in Yellow Squadron to help take the city," Trent said, "How good are they?"

"They're good," Geoff replied, "If they're anywhere nearby, you better get out of there. It's a miracle our entire squadron survived over Stonehenge."

"Well then, that's encouraging," DJ sighed, "I just want my mama…"

"Seriously?" Zeke asked.

"What? Don't you love your mama?"

"I'm from St. Ark, eh. That's all I'll say."

Geoff winced, while Trent and DJ stared at Zeke, confused.

"Really? I went to St. Ark on vacation back in '92, and it was really nice."

"Well, considering where ISAF's sending all their troops, you'll see soon. Very, very soon," Zeke said.

Meanwhile, in San Salvacion, the late morning sun shone brightly upon a highway north of Old Towne. Yellow 4 gave 13 a wan smile, as the two helped the three new members perform preflight ckecks.

"I think ISAF will give everything they've got,"4 said nervously, "You really think they'll just let Los Canas go?"

"No, but we'll do what we're told and succeed," 13 replied.

"Yeah, for the Motherland!" 4 said with mock enthusiasm.

The quote quieted 13, and Yellow Squadron spent the remaining pre-flight checks in awkward silence.

In Merona, Katie found herself in the middle of a slow day… again. While food hadn't been rationed (yet, she thought,) gasoline was. So instead of vacationers coming in droves, only new conscripts to the Erusian army gave Merona any note while headed to the new training center hastily assembled north of town.

Since cadets in boot camp weren't known for having time and money to burn, Art's Café had sat nearly vacant ever since the war began. Considering all the stories Art Harris had told her before the Army "needed him," his café had never been full since Ulysses. So here she was, doing barely anything except take her wages from the cash register every week. She had resigned herself to listening to the radio station's new programming- a non-stop barrage of patriotic music when the bell at the counter rang.

Katie turned around to find Tyler, grinning at her.

"Still avoided the Army, huh?" Katie asked.

"Yup," he boasted, "So, has business gotten better?"

Katie scowled, "What do you think?"

Tyler hesitated before saying "No."

"And you're exactly right. Man, I'd close up this place if I had any other way of getting a job around here."

"You could enlist. Maybe they might have a cook position open or something?"

Katie's face took on a look of mock anger, "And you expect to me to cook for like, a thousand people?"

"Katie, your job is cooking for people."

"Well… fine Tyler! I'll only enlist when you do, how about that?"

"Sounds okay to me."

Then, light from a pair of headlights poured into the tiny restaurant. Four figures got out of a battered sedan and entered the café.

"Hey, is this place still open for the night? We're starving," a jolly man who seemed to be the leader of the group said.

Katie couldn't contain her bewilderment, and asked, "Are you an angel?"

The man laughed, "Maybe."

It was nearly midnight when the last of the preflight checks were completed. Yellow Squadron was ready to go. The rest of the air squadrons were already ready for takeoff from various bases in occupied territory, and the ground units surrounding the city had been supplied and were ready to go. With all luck, by this time of night tomorrow, Los Canas would belong to Erusea.

Yellow 13 led the procession of planes out of the tunnel they used as an airbase. He ran a final check of his systems, breathed in to see if his oxygen mask was working, and barreled down the runway. He took off into the night, with San Salvacion a glowing gold behind him. Yellow Four and the rest of the squadron soon followed, and the five planes banked and turned towards Los Canas.

So, I heard they're sending in food shipments from Emmeria today," Bridgette said. She looked just as tired as everyone else did on this stupid island, but tried to keep a positive outlook.

"So? We're still fed, thank God," Courtney replied.

"Yeah, but I think they have a few steaks. Steaks, Courtney, steaks! And cereal… all the sugary kinds, and lots of them… and we'll be able to get some!"

Courtney pondered over the idea of going with Bridgette down to the port for some food, "That… actually sounds really good, just like the old days."

"Yeah, just like the old days," Bridgette agreed.

The two girls got up off of Courtney's floor, and left the house. Courtney's parents didn't notice, they were too far gone to care. They walked down the deserted streets, joined by a few other people desperate for a nice ribeye or a box of their favorite Choco-Rings.

"Bridgette," Courtney said, noticing the growing crowd of people, "I know a shortcut we could take."

"Great," Bridgette said, "Let's go."

Courtney took Bridgette's hand and led her down an alley. The docks and a ship were in sight, then…

"COURTNEY!" Izzy shouted, startling Courtney out of her dream, "The Erusians are coming! We gotta get into our flight suits, NOW!"

Courtney, dazed by her abrupt entry back into reality, shook her head for a minute, then joined Izzy in tense silence down to the lobby, where Hatchet was giving an emergency briefing.

"Approximately fifteen minutes ago, our intelligence operatives in San Salvacion reported that various Erusian aircraft left the city and are en route to attack and control Los Canas. Your job is take out the infantry and artillery surrounding the city to at least buy us enough time to get the generals and the Government out of the city. We have no idea when the Erusian Air Force will arrive, but it's going to be soon. Good luck to you all, and protect our city!"

The pilots rushed out to the plane hangar. The crew chiefs were already outfitting their planes with air-to-ground missiles and bombs as they entered the two makeshift locker rooms in the corner. Courtney yanked her flight suit on, zipped it up and grabbed her helmet as she hurried out of the hangar towards her plane.

The crews had just finished loading weapons on Courtney's plane and were moving on to Noah's.

"Hey," Courtney shouted, "What did you load me with?"

"Sidewinders and unguided bombs!" one of the ground crew members shouted back.

She moved the ladder left near her plane and climbed into the open cockpit. Just as Courtney was about to close the canopy, the squadron leader from North Point ran by her plane yelling,

"All units need to takeoff immediately! Do not wait for your squadrons; engage the enemy as soon as possible!"

Courtney took a deep breath, and began to taxi.

Thirty minutes later, when Geoff got into the air, the scene was chaotic. The cloudy night sky glowed dim red from the fires burning around the outskirts of Los Canas. The air was choked with airliners taking a few more refugees from the city's other airport, taking advantage of the lack of Erusian planes.

However, things weren't so good on the ground. All of the outer suburbs had fallen, and more and more tanks amassed at the frontlines. However, the Erusians were kept at bay outside of Highway 640, which served as a beltway. Geoff had used LAGM air-to-ground missiles to take out three tanks, and was now headed back to base to rearm. He had just deployed his landing gear when the missile alert alarm flooded his HUD. Geoff turned his F-16 hard right and came face to face with an entire squadron of Erusian air-superiority fighters.

Meanwhile, over the city center, Mary, Hatchet, and Lindsay provided top cover for the other ISAF planes. A few transports were already fleeing the airspace, but the three fighter pilots stayed behind, knowing that Erusian air support was imminent.

"So… what happens if we lose?" Lindsay asked over the radio.

"We get captured, or we refuel and head for North Point," Hatchet replied bluntly.

"And the people?" Lindsay asked again.

"Die. Or lose everything," Hatchet said again, with a disturbing lack of empathy.

Lindsay decided to stop asking, that had already happened a lot, so everyone down in Los Canas could handle it, right?

Then, her missile alert flashed red on her HUD, and she climbed to evade. The missile still came, and she dived and turned hard right. The missile shot off track, and Lindsay found herself surrounded by her five worst fears. Yellow Squadron.

Geoff decided to risk it. He engaged the afterburners to outrun the planes behind him. The runway lights still glowed bright amidst the last few streetlights still working in the surrounding suburbs. He began to slow down and prepare to land, but Geoff found that a missile was already headed towards him.

He sighed, and immediately began evasive maneuvers. The missile thankfully went off track, and Geoff somehow managed to land his plane. He taxied over towards the hangars and stopped.

The crew chief came running out, with a panicked expression on his face.

"They're letting go of the city entirely! There're too many tanks and they're saying that bombers are inbound!"

"What? So what happens to us?" Geoff asked nervously.

"They've got a couple of C-130's inbound to get us out of here, and the generals and the government are prepping to leave in helicopters downtown. You're guarding us, I guess."

"Okay, I'll need air to air missiles then. "

"Sure," the crew chief answered, "But after this, we're destroying all weapons here, so aim carefully."

"Will do," Geoff replied, "and good luck."

"Thanks, I'll need it," the crew chief said as he ran back to the hangar.

Geoff nervously scanned the skies as his plane idled on the tarmac. Missiles were streaking across the sky, hitting checkpoints and hastily-assembled defense points in the city proper. A few helicopters were taking off from where the Capitol Building should be. The President was finally jumping ship.

Eva felt a sense of dread as her Ch-47 helicopter took off, she was defenseless against any Erusian attack; be it from the ground or the air. Her squad had barely escaped from Grande Montana by the skin of their teeth, only to be assigned to guard fleeing government representatives. So here she was, stuck in a hovering tin can with all fifty members of the Senate panicking over the explosions off in the distance.

Twelve helicopters had taken off, and all were supposed to land at Fort Gillespie, the next major fortification on the Fallback Line, then take fixed wing aircraft to North Point. However, Eva doubted things could go this smoothly considering the state of the battle. ISAF forces were holed up in downtown, with the outer city having fallen. ISAF's air superiority was patchy, and some areas were vulnerable to Erusian assault while others weren't. Unless some miracle happened, there was no way all the choppers were getting anywhere without getting shot down.

Over downtown, Lindsay tried to keep her stomach down as she deftly maneuvered her plane over the skyscrapers below. She had all her ammo—she couldn't even get Yellow Squadron in her sights, let alone fire anything at them. Hatchet and Mary were in a similar bind, watching their world spin around them trying to fire at Erusea's best.

"Angel," Mary said over the radio, "I need you to fly off in one direction. You'll distract the Yellows, and I'll fire. Okay?"

Lindsay thought about this. Would they honestly fall for that? She decided that they would.

"This is Angel. Roger that."

Lindsay leveled out her plane and flew outwards towards the suburbs, and the Yellows immediately followed. Mary trailed behind one of the Yellows, and she smiled as her radar locked on to the target. Just as her target leveled out their wings, she fired.

Almost immediately, the Yellows broke, their Su-37s' thrust vectoring systems delivering them out of the missile's path and towards her plane. Before one Yellow plane turned however, the pilot fired one missile at Lindsay's Flanker. Mary immediately performed evasive maneuvers to get back behind the Yellow planes, but she couldn't help but glance at the tiny speck of the missile on radar headed towards Lindsay.

Lindsay performed a 180 degree turn back towards the unfolding dogfight, but it wasn't enough to shake off the missile. She banked left, then right, then dived, and climbed, but the missile stayed glued to her six and got closer and closer. She panicked, jerking her yoke whichever way her trembling hand would let her. It wasn't enough. The missile struck between her engines' exhausts, and a fireball enveloped the rear of her Flanker. Lindsay dived, her out-of-control plane hurtling down towards Los Canas. The hulk of the Flanker struck the glass façade of an office tower in the center of the city, creating an explosion that shattered the whole side of the glass building, immolating offices and sending bits of shattered glass and steel onto abandoned cars and hiding citizens.

The whole time, Lindsay had been screaming.

Mary was stunned. Lindsay didn't deserve to die, especially not like that. Her shock turned to rage, and she flew faster, trying to get a lock on the Yellows and shoot them down. Hatchet agreed, as his Typhoon followed Mary's. Together they were going to drive the Yellows back to Erusea.

Courtney had no idea what to do. A transmission had gone out that the airport had been destroyed. Aging Tu-95 bombers had snuck past ISAF fighters and hit the runway, rendering Courtney unable to refuel or rearm. She was down to her guns and a Sidewinder missile, and she was going to make the most of them.

The bombers had been shot down by a squadron from Fort Gillespie, so Courtney found herself in a lull in the fighting. She had managed to gather the rest of her squadron, and only Geoff was decently armed. Noah was completely out of ordinance, Izzy only had one Sidewinder left, and Duncan was reduced to his guns.

A voice crackled on the radio.

"This is the helicopter Greyhound One. We're getting intercepted by Erusian fighters and request air support. Hurry, we're carrying the President!"

"Vapor 5 to Vapor 1, requesting permission to engage," Noah asked.

"Permission granted," Courtney responded, "Let's all save the President," she exclaimed, the thoughts of awards and potentially fifteen minutes of fame swirling through her head.

In the convoy of helicopters, Eva panicked. They had no SAMs or AA guns below and with fighters closing in, there was little chance of getting out alive. Then, the pilot let out a cheer.

"What is it?" Eva asked.

"We have friendly planes inbound to our location. We have an escort!" the pilot replied.

The various politicians in back let out a cheer as well as a blue plane streaked by the helicopter.

"Greyhound One, this is Vapor One, we have sight of three hostiles," Courtney said, "We'll take care of them. All Vapor units, engage."

Duncan had already worked his way behind one of the fighters, identified as an F-16. Despite the Erusian pilots' attempts at evasive maneuvers, Duncan worked his way into gun range. He lifted the nose of his plane just a bit, aiming his guns. Finally, he fired. Bullets sliced through the Erusian plane, and the pilot was forced to eject.

"This is Vapor 3, splash one bandit," Duncan said with pride, "But I'm all out of ammo."

"Just keep them distracted," Courtney said, "We're almost out of the city."

The lights thinned out ahead, and the pilot of helicopter could help but grin; they were almost home free. Behind him, Izzy deftly maneuvered her Typhoon around and towards the planes. One of the two remaining F-16's were in her crosshairs. The pilot was distracted with speeding forward to shoot down the helicopters and flew in a straight line directly in Izzy's twelve o'clock. She engaged her afterburners and sped forward. Her last missile locked on, and with a gulp, she fired it. The pilot finally realized that someone was behind him, and began to turn right, but it was too late, and the missile hit. Fortunately, the pilot ejected, bringing a sigh of relief to Izzy's lips.

"Vapor 4, bandit down," Izzy said confidently, "Out of ammo as well."

A bright flash of red and black caught the squadron's eye.

"This is Vapor 2, bagged one," Geoff said.

"Kill confirmed. Great job Geoff," Courtney said. Blue arrows appeared on her radar; friendly aircraft.

"Um… what are those transports doing?" asked Noah.

"Maybe they're taking a few more people out of the city," Izzy guessed.

Then, the radios of all ISAF aircraft and personnel crackled to life.

"This is Claymore Flight; all ISAF personnel evacuate the city and fall back to Fort Gillespie. We're set up a flak barrier between downtown and the Erusian forces on the West Side. Repeat, all ISAF units fall back…"

"Wait a flak barrier!" Noah shouted his voice full of panic, "Dear God, my family lives on the West Side! They can't do that!"

Courtney planned a response, but decided to keep it in her throat, there was nothing she could say to make the inevitable carnage any better.

Beth found herself hiding under a steel table in her mom's urgent care clinic. Already the whole facility was packed with panicked citizens trying to avoid the battle outside. The bombers that hit the airport were nowhere to be seen, so she considered getting up and helping her mother with triage. She stopped assuming the fetal position, grabbed onto the table leg to help herself up, and just as she began to move, then came death from above.

"Wait a minute, those aren't transports!" Geoff exclaimed.

Instead, four AC-130 gunships opened fire on suburban Los Canas, creating a long, narrow path of devastation. Cars were shredded, tanks penetrated, troops out on the street killed almost instantly. It plowed through the acres of subdivisions, shattering glass windows and turning drywall and plywood into holed scraps of former structure. A few tanks were caught here, sneaking through winding streets and dying lawns, but mostly, all that were here were the newly dead and the moans of the newly dying.

Beth screamed as bullets hit the ground around the table. The table itself was dented, but it still kept the bullets out. Considering the screams from outside the room, Beth had a nagging suspicion that the others couldn't find as good hiding spots as her. Finally, after ten seconds of terror, the firing ceased. Beth got up. She opened the door, and entered hell.

She saw blood everywhere, coming from corpses with terrified eyes who didn't even have time to close them. She gingerly stepped towards the exit, trying not to cry or be sick. Finally, she got to the entrance, and she finally crumpled to her knees. Her mother lay there, deathly still. Beth immediately choked up and grabbed her hand, not caring of the bloodstains seeping into her jeans. Finally, she could choke out one word: why? It became a mantra, an expression of loss and anger and confusion. Her whole brain devoted itself to it, until a hand touched her shoulder. Beth turned around.

There stood an Erusian soldier.

"You have to go," he said, in a harsh accent.

Beth cowered away, and clambered across the room before finally getting up in an attempt to face him. The soldier stepped back and opened the door.

"Go home," he said, "There's been enough death."

Beth got up, and gingerly walked past him shivering out of fear.

"T-t-thanks," she stammered softly. The soldier replied with a smile.

The street was full of totaled cars, broken glass, and stray bricks and chunks of concrete. The sight, plus the soldier, was too much for Beth. She bolted, leaving Private Cody Anderson behind.

Katie brought another plate of food to the smiling man; he was an insatiable glutton. However, considering the number of customers lately, she needed this glutton… and his friends.

"So, I never got you name. You come in here a lot," Katie said.

"Owen," the man replied, and returned to his pancakes, wanting breakfast at night. Katie took a seat next to him.

"So…what brings you to Merona?" Katie asked, "Things have just been like, so slow lately because of the war."

"Oh… I'm a… uh…a… a salesman! I have some pretty nice vacuum cleaners if you're interested," Owen answered, his face turning red.

Katie raised an eyebrow, "So you and your friends are all vacuum salesmen, and you all sell vacuums together.

"Yup," Owen said, a little too eagerly.

Then, one of Owen's friends, a pudgy woman who introduced herself as LeShawna quickly interjected.

"Well, we sell more than that. We stick together 'cause these are pretty hard times, ain't that right girl?"

"I guess so," Katie said, "Do you have anywhere to stay? The last hotel closed down, no one's coming in from Farbanti or Goldberg so the manager got drafted."

"No, we don't," said Heather, another one of Owen's associates. She was pretty, with fair skin and long, straight, dark hair, "We basically just came to town hoping there was a place to stay… so yeah, we're out of luck."

"Is there anywhere to stay outside of town?" Owen's last fellow "salesmen" asked, a nebbish man named Harold asked.

"Well, there was Pilottown ten miles southwest…" Katie began, but her words tapered off. LeShawna let out an "Aww," and reached her hand up to Katie's cheek.

"Ulysses?" she asked.

"Yeah," Katie replied, "Now it's the world's largest tidal pool."

"Did… did you lose anyone," Owen inquired gently, his eyes ful of concern.

"My best friend. She lived there, and she planned to leave for Osea but her flight got cancelled so she hunkered down and…" Katie then realized at this moment that the first tears were welling in the corners of her eyes.

"It's okay, it's okay," LeShawna said consolingly, with waves of calm pouring from her mouth. She repeated it over and over until finally, Katie stopped quivering.

"Yeah, it's alright," Katie said, "You know, you guys can stay with me. I've got a spare bedroom and a couch. I hope at least one of you has like, a sleeping bag or air mattress or something."

"Thanks then," Heather said, finally looking up from twirling the ice around in her glass of water.

"You're welcome," Katie replied, "I'll let you guys finish up and pay, then I'll lead the way. My house is in walking distance and it's right on the beach…"

Katie walked over to the radio and turned it on, hoping to get some contraband stations from across the sea in Nordland. Instead, a newscaster's voice came through loud and clear.

"In breaking news tonight, it is confirmed that the Independent States Allied Forces have completely abandoned Los Canas and most of their fortifications on continental Usea, giving our proud nation the rightful justice we deserve against the restricting Useans…"

All five turned towards the radio, looks of concern etched deep into their faces. This war was going horribly right.