Book 27 of The Lyssa Kordenay Missions!   Lyssa and Rodrick head for the border   to deal with a deadly smuggling operation   but Dannigan knows it may be too much for them. WARNING: The Lyssa Kordenay Missions may be hyper-violent for some readers.

 

 

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CHAPTER 1

Rodrick flew low and fast over the tree tops as the old tune from The Rolling Stones filled the helmet's comm instead of static.

"Approaching target, all safeties off," he said.

"Master arms off, targeting activated; we're hot," Lyssa answered from the gunner's seat.

She currently sat in the forward cockpit of the gunship. An AH-64D Apache designation LongBow. The wicked looking helicopter dove down to fly between two stands of trees then sweep around and bear down on several burned out hulks of old tanks and armored carriers.

"Target acquired," Lyssa announced lining up on the farthest tank.

"NAIL 'EM," Rodrick shouted.

Lyssa let loose with a volley from the rocket pods then watched twelve wire guided rockets streak to the chosen target as the gunship flew sideways around the edge of the area. The hulk erupted with the detonations as Rodrick took note of the incoming Apaches.

"Inbound helos. Hostiles! You're up this time, get us outta here," he said.

Lyssa switched her set to flight controls and cranked the throttle full banking away. Suddenly her music filled the comm, she'd picked out a hard hitting trance piece. Rodrick tightened his harness as Tiesto's Suburban Train blared and smiled. It was the rare version with an all girls choir, Children of Orpheus Choir. He knew there was about to be some moves those guys had never seen before as Lyssa pulled up slightly then barrel rolled to avoid the target lock of the incoming attack ships.

Rodrick had a lot of experience with helicopters and some in gunships. This was new to her. She never said so but she became frustrated quickly. Rodrick suggested that she think of the ship as her body with the main rotor as her point of contact and center of balance. She grasped the concept and then did one even better. She applied dance principles to flight. Her elegant movements felt far more violent than any erratic moves he performed.

Lyssa had the gunship's throttle to the red-line as she pulled them through a tight turn then nosed up. The Apache climbed fast. Rodrick then felt his stomach lurch as she dropped almost to the water's surface following the river. Lyssa was totally silent as her hands and feet worked the controls to nose up and roll again going vertical; as if a pirouette then suddenly slung the tail around and rolling the aircraft completely over. She came out of the improvised loop to bring her weapons to bear on the pursuit, flying between them.

Rodrick grunted with the g-forces then held his breath as she slid sideways over the top of a bridge, dropped down to spin; flying back under and pop up from the other side to take missile shots at the two.

"Simulation over! Lobos One and Two are downed. Return to base Special One," a voice came over all comms.

"I can't believe they did that! Did you see that shit this time Saber, "one of the opposing pilots asked.

"Yeah I saw it. Miracle they aren't a fireball; coulda slammed into that bridge or the river bank. Ballsy moves. Bat-shit fuckin' crazy; but ballsy," the other pilot commented.

Their gunners agreed. Crazy but effective. Lyssa grinned at the overheard exchange as she turned and sped away.

"They're right. We are seriously fuckin' lucky we didn't slam and blast. This is a gunship babe, not your pointe shoes," Rodrick commented.

Lyssa didn't reply to that but did pull back hard on the cyclic making them climb hard then bank even harder eliciting a grunt from Rodrick as he felt the g-force.

"ok. OK," he relented.

She leveled off and flew to the small field. they came in on a standard approach and set down. Eddie and Carl as ground crew tethered the blades after they stopped. The chocks were placed then Eddie as the crew chief began inspecting the air-frame as Lyssa and Rodrick climbed out then signed off on the checklist.

~o~O~o~

Dannigan watched the gun cam footage of the observation chopper. He laughed at the opposing pilots' exclamations at Lyssa's slick bridge maneuver, they weren't accustomed to the way she moved. She applied ballet principles of movement, the ending of her previous movement being the lead to her next. Madison caught the replay and gasped at the moves.

"My god I thought they were about to crash into the bridge," she said stunned.

"It was close but I think that was her plan, do what your opponent won't and you'll win or die trying," he replied then chuckled," though that opposing pilot was right. That was bat-shit crazy."

"Do you really think they'll have to be sent to Arizona," she asked.

"I hope not, but its looking that way. I'll have to get a third person to fly with them. This will definitely get messy," Dannigan answered.

"Who would you have to send with them," she asked thinking of Pete but he didn't have gunship experience.

Dannigan's face took on a stoney countenance, "Somebody that will say yes."

Madison watched puzzled as he picked up the phone and dialed a number from memory.

"Joe Landon; its Paul. Yeah its been a while. I have something for you; back-up to my main team. I'll send you the details," Dannigan's conversation was very curt then dropped the receiver back to the cradle.

Madison wracked her brain to remember any and all people named Joe Landon and drew a blank.

Dannigan must have noticed her intent because he stated,"Don't bother trying to place the name, it actually has no value to anybody anymore. Just me and him."

That statement puzzled her even more but she turned and went back to her desk. She couldn't tell the tasking but did hear the chime of a packet being sent out.

Dannigan called out, "upgrade Lyssa and Rodrick to standby status."

She pulled up the tasking code and did so then sent the message to them. It had been a month since a D.E.A. patrol plane had been shot down. From what data that had been able to be retrieved it was two civilian helicopters converted to gunships. She sent everything new to Kimberly on Ram's Rock Island in the Bahamas.

Kimberly read through multiple reports and gathered them into one comprehensive packet. Her sources were coming from Border Patrol, Customs, ATF, DEA and NRO. The National Reconnaissance Office provided the necessary imagery. A new cartel specializing in arms were moving their goods across the border into the U.S. through Arizona. The problem was they were using helicopters that were possibly armed or being escorted by armed helicopters. Inter-Agency chatter intercepts had determined that every so often a thirty mile wide corridor across the border would be made.

For the past fifteen years radar equipped weather balloons were stationed inside the U.S. border marking a perimeter and used to find drug smuggling aircraft flying too low for conventional radar stations to detect. Someone was now destroying those balloons making a thirty mile wide blind-spot every other week. She knew Lyssa and Rodrick had been training to fly gunships for air-to-air combat.

Finally Kimberly caught a break and saw a silhouette. She began enhancing the image and a few minutes later frowned. It was a converted gunship. The latest version Hughes model 500 configured for combat armed with guns on the right side and rockets on the left. The bigger problem was that it wasn't alone, it had a duplicate flying a tight formation with a heavy Bell cargo helicopter trailing behind. Kimberly used other satellites to track the trio north to a series of canyons and lost them.

Hours later she was seriously frustrated and finally saw them but were heading back south, she continued to track them until they crossed back into Mexican airspace and lost the orbit. She put on the list for a KH-18, the latest keyhole satellite with digitally enhanced real-time color and low light capability. There were only 4 that could be tasked to a geo-sync stationary orbit over the southwest U.S.

The Major would have to fool NRO into thinking it was needed for a joint task force. That was the only way to get it. The KH-18's had been on station for only six months and already there were rumors about newer version to be designated KH-20's. If half the stories were true the Major should serious think about finding a way to acquire one. Not only would it have all the newest bells and whistles for imagery but also be able to handle encrypted two way message traffic.

Kimberly liked new toys. Pete accused her of being a magpie, attracted to shiny things. It made her laugh but it was turning out to be accurate. She was enjoying all the new ways to gather her raw intelligence to filter through than what had been provided when she was in the Army. Kimberly finished composing the request to the Major for the satellites to be re-tasked and sent it off then changed into a bikini to go for a swim. Only six more weeks to go and she'd be ready for her final medical procedure. Her previous
life was dead and buried. Kimberly Susan Moore was here to stay.

---

CHAPTER 2

Gary sat at the table in the shade drinking a cold beer watching the the wind trying to turn the tethered rotor blades of the small gunship.

"Not much longer and we can retire," the man on the other side of the table said cheerfully taking a long drink of beer.

Gary didn't comment but just nodded.

"What's up with you? Is that shit with the plane getting to you," the younger man asked.

"They saw us, I blew 'em outta the sky. End of story," he replied.

"well if the DEA wasn't so nosy they might be around longer, serves 'em right," the younger man chuckled.

Gary took off his sunglasses and gave him a stare colder than the beer they were both drinking, "doesn't matter who it was! The point being you snot-nosed shit, is that it won't be long before somebody sends somebody to do the same to us."

when he didn't answer Gary continued, "Hadn't thought about that,huh? Taylor you better get it into your head that you ain't the best in the air. I'm not the best in the air and I know it. Maybe we'll be able to make enough runs across to retire, before we really piss off the feds and they send somebody after us. Get your head outta your ass and get with the program! Fun and games are over."

Gary stood up and walked into the metal building and slammed a door.

"Geez. Shoot down a DEA plane and he develops a problem suddenly," Taylor commented.

"Guerrero. Senor Gary is not wrong. The Americans, they do not take such things lightly. They get very angry when their agents get killed, even more so when the military advisors they send to work with Federales get killed," the Mexican mechanic said.

Taylor scoffed, "get serious Chavez."

"Even up here in Mexico we hear stories. Columbia: the leadership of a cartel were killed and fed to big animals not from there. Brasil; Ramon Padosa, himself, untouchable for years and then POOF! Nada. He was gone and his whole organization destroyed in one week. Even the politician in Washington he controlled, gone. Los Angeles of your country. A young new player trying to make his move, burnt to the ground with all inside muerte. We learn from this si? Americans will only allow so much then they come. When they do come; no mas. They make everything no more. Comprende," the Mexican cautioned.

Taylor scoffed at him, "Ha! Me and Gary are the best. Chavez, you worry too much amigo. Ain't nobody around right now that can take us on. I checked before we started this little operation. Only one guy had higher skills than us and he bought it years ago. Hell, these days he's barely mentioned anymore. Some legend."

Chavez shrugged his shoulders and stood up to go check the fuel filters for sand from the recent sandstorm.

~o~O~o~

Lyssa and Rodrick walked around the new Apache models. AH-64H, Apache Lance. The limited run of single seat versions of the gunships had lighter air-frames to accommodate extended pylons for more armament and had more powerful turbines. The D-model currently still deployed in bulk could go as fast as 223 miles per hour when light on weapons and fuel.

These new models could exceed 250 with full combat load and fuel. Enhanced radar and thermal the imagery for targeting along with laser designators. These were totally blacked out with no markings at all, not even tail numbers. What Lyssa didn't understand was why there were three and not just the two.

A ground crew of three were there to maintain the aircraft and that was it. Each one currently sat inside an inflatable hanger with another similar set up as operations and then several tents. Lyssa and Rodrick had been shown their tent and settled in but another tent sat all by itself, as if a matter of safety on the other side of the area.

"How the hell did he pull this off," Lyssa asked looking around.

"Who cares," Rodrick said eagerly looking over one of the vicious looking gunships.

"SIR!!!!MA'AM!!!!! INCOMING MESSAGE TRAFFIC," one of the soldiers yelled from the operations tent.

Lyssa and Rodrick hurried over and read the packet. In the briefing it was suspected that the next day a corridor would be opened and the gunships would make their run north. All three of them were to intercept and destroy penetrating aircraft.

"All three of us,"Lyssa asked the soldier.

"Yes Ma'am," he answered.

"When will the other pilot get here,"Rodrick asked.

"He's been here Sir," the soldier pointed to the solitary tent, "he has his own extension of the comms set up and everything. We're under orders not to go over there."

"Orders," Lyssa asked.

"YES MA'AM! Anybody that goes near that tent'll get shot he said. Ma'am I believe him too," the soldier stated looking very nervous, "kept his helmet on and visor down the whole time. I can't even tell you what he looks like."

Rodrick and Lyssa looked at each other puzzled.

"All I can tell you is he had a small black and white Texas flag on the side of his helmet and a really BIG pistol on his right leg. Like .50 cal big. Kinda like yours Ma'am but bigger," he added.

Lyssa looked at Rodrick, "A Desert Eagle .50? What pilot carries that?"

Rodrick shrugged, "You got me but sounds like he's seriously wound up. Hell you carry two .40's but a .50 is something to take serious."

"I'll say this, whoever he is knows what he's doing in a helo. Came in balls-to-the-wall and put it right in front of the far hangar like a kitten jumping off the couch onto a pillow. We had high cross winds at the time and like; twenty-five meters of visibility," the soldier added.

Rodrick looked impressed with the observation as did Lyssa.

"I understand you're all hush-hush black ops types but that guy. Something's different. WAY different," the soldier commented referring to Lyssa and Rodrick wearing their facial camo to obscure their faces.

They knew the ground-crew chief wasn't thrilled with this temporary duty. Go out to the middle of no-where and working with people that used no names and even hid their faces. It wasn't a dream assignment but he was being paid a lot, as were the other members of the crew. They had no problems being in the desert and were completely up of the new models. Rodrick had joked they were from the Groom Lake Test Facility in Nevada.

~o~O~o~

Madison routed through the confirmation of Lyssa and Rodrick receiving the packet. A second confirmation came through as well signed at the bottom with a black and white picture of the Texas flag.

"Major....," she called out.

Dannigan came out and looked over her shoulder then nodded, "Good. He's ready."

"Sir, I don't understand. Who is he," Madison asked confused.

"Somebody from a very long time ago. Let it go Madison, some stories are better off not shared," He said and turned back to his office.

Kimberly's request for satellite re-tasking had been hard to acquire but it'd been done and now if they didn't intercept and eliminate they'd be able to pinpoint and be ready. Already the canyon layout was being studied by those flying.

The Drug Enforcement Agency was screaming for the Army or Air Force to intervene. D.O.D. already knew an operation was underway but was being respectful of the classification and not telling the D.E.A. anything other than the request for action was being reviewed. Dannigan understood the anger of the agency, they'd lost three good men when the observation plane had been
shot down.

The biggest issue was what would happen when Lyssa and Rodrick found out about Landon. A name like his carried a lot of weight in the Army. Even after all these years. Most assumed he was dead and he preferred it that way.

It wasn't that Lyssa and Rodrick couldn't keep a secret but they had the tendency of reaching out and trying to help. Landon wouldn't have any of that. He was a man that patiently awaited the one mission he wouldn't return from. So far he didn't express disappointment but Dannigan knew he was. Dannigan was actually surprised the pilot hadn't committed suicide by now to escape the hell he lived in.

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CHAPTER 3

Joseph Landon studied the satellite photographs of the canyons then ran them through a highly specialized three dimensional mapping program. It allowed him to literally fly the canyons as if in a helicopter. Using the program he did so, exploring each turn and twist. Landon had always been gifted with a great memory recall, not quite identic. The ever impressive Full Immediate Identic Recall, known commonly as photographic memory, but he was as close as it got. Gift and curse, he never forgot things though he
wish he could.

One day though it wouldn't be a problem, he'd be dead, but until then he'd keep on taking missions like this in hope that it would be the one that ended him. Suicide was for cowards in his opinion and he wouldn't give anybody the satisfaction of pitying him. He read through the limited information dossiers again of the man and woman he saw fly in.

Designation: Steel Butterfly- deep cover black ops, liquidation specialist, Special Forces/Delta trained. Insurgency/counter-insurgency, hostage rescue, assassination, espionage. One of the deadliest women he had ever heard of.

Designation: Ramrod-ex-SEAL, Riverine warfare, ship-to-ship operations of assault and rescue, rated to fly anything that does.

Both had recent special intensive air-to-air gunship training and outscored five years of past inductees and two of the current instructor teams. He watched the feed of the smuggler security helos and rated them high. He'd spent time as an instructor too, both basic and advanced gunship flight. In case this Steel Butterfly and Ramrod couldn't take them out he'd pop up and do it, unless that third chopper took to fight then he'd be required to take on a gunship while she went after the heavy helicopter.

That was the rub, she. A she. A woman in a gunship. He'd be suffering the nightmares again for at least a month because of her. When he closed his eyes he'd be hearing the screams and smell the scent of burning all over again. Both himself; and her.

~o~O~o~

Gary awoke just before sunrise and stated checking over his ride. The small helicopter was light and armed to the teeth with guns and rockets. It was fast and agile. Few could stand against it. Only an expert in an American Apache or Russian Kamov called the Black Shark could give it a fight and few were up to the task. Russian pilots had no cause and all the qualified American
pilots were currently engaged overseas. Air Force jets couldn't maneuver through the canyons at such speeds without stalling and crashing, normal speed would make them hit the walls and crash.

He looked over and saw Taylor walking around his own checking it. This time was different. They weren't escorting a load of weapons as usual but were running a shipment of cocaine. Their success and audacity had earned them a higher paying commission from an importer. Over a ton of the white powder on this run and the payment for it on the return trip. They had been paid in advance.

The corridor would be clear before they got within fifty miles of the border. Taylor gave him a thumbs-up, climbed into his cockpit and began start-up. Gary did the same and within minutes they were streaking toward the border when the call came through. The balloons were down and the corridor was open for thirty miles along the border.

~o~O~o~

Lyssa and Rodrick were lifting off when they saw the dark figure leave his solitary tent and climb into the remaining gunship and lift off behind them.

"Glad to have you with us,"Rodrick called out.

"No radio chatter until enemy craft have fired on us, take your stations," a very calm voice answered back.

Rodrick frowned inside his helmet but did as ordered. They were in their concealed positions for five minutes when the three craft came into range. Lyssa turned on her designator and painted the heavy helo. Rodrick tracked it for a few seconds then fired off an air to air missile. The two gunships split off but the missile moved too fast for the cargo helicopter and was hit, exploding into a massive fireball raining down a white dust and metal debris.

The two gunships came about and angled for rocket shots on the two Apaches. Lyssa had her music playing and cranked her throttle hard pitching down to peel away as the rockets streaked past.

"I'm engaged," she reported.

"Copy that," the cold voice answered back.

Rodrick as well cut in,"I'm engaged too."

"Copy. They'll try to run you both into the canyons. Let 'em," he instructed.

Lyssa had her hands full as the pilot slid in behind her and opened up with his guns. She turned up her music and dove into the canyons. Rodrick had slid behind the other gunship and herded him into the canyon with a short burst of rocket fire. The nimble Huey went to full throttle trying to speed ahead and set up an ambush for him.

Lyssa moved through the canyons all but scraping the walls like a skateboarder on ramps dodging the auto-fire from behind her when she pulled up hard climbing a wall then launching out to pirouette just above the rim and flip over as she had before to dive back. An automatic system had locked onto the pilots frequencies to eavesdrop their exchange.

A young voice called out, "Gary; these guys are good. Got one on my six now. I'll lead them deeper into the maze. You got a position yet?"

"NO! I GOT THE OTHER ONE ON MY SIX! THESE AREN'T REGULAR APACHES TAYLOR HAUL ASS,"Gary bellowed back.

Lyssa let loose with her Bushmaster cannon and felt the frame shake as tracers streaked alongside the one called Taylor as he banked hard going deeper in the canyon. Lyssa caught a glimpse of their third Apache through a small opening in the wall tracking the same direction.

Apparently Taylor had spotted it too because he yelled out, "Hey Gary they got another one snaking around. I'll take him out as soon as I make this one smack a wall."

A moment later Taylor swore as a row of tracers slammed into the side of his helicopter and the gunship streaked by underneath him following a different canyon path. Gary received similar treatment moments later.

Gary announced, "these guys are pissing me off Taylor! Moving around like they own these canyons! OH SHIT PULL UP!!!!"

Gary and Taylor found themselves flying straight at each other and pulled back hard to stop then hover looking at each other. They both turned around and saw that the canyons leading to this junction were now blocked by each by an Apache.

"Who the fuck are you," Gary demanded.

The targeting lock on shrieked as a calm voice came over all frequencies, "LoneStar."

"OH FUCK......"Taylor yelled as the missiles streaked from the Apache gunships and slammed into both the Hueys blasting them from the sky.

"Return to base," LoneStar ordered in his icy calm voice then hovered out of the canyon and headed back.

Lyssa and Rodrick followed him back in tight formation and landed. They both hurried from their cockpits and stood before his both saluting as LoneStar climbed out. He simply nodded and they dropped the salute.

"Fly damn good for a dead guy," Rodrick commented.

"Yeah. Heard it before," came a voice muffled by helmet and visor.

Lyssa placed her hand gently on Rodrick's arm and slowly shook her head. Rodrick quieted and Lyssa stepped forward.

She spoke gently, "thanks for being with us LoneStar. An honor to work with you Lieutenant Colonel."

"Dismissed," he said.

They both stood at attention and saluted as he turned and walked back to his tent. Lyssa was more confused than Rodrick. Lieutenant Colonel Joseph 'LoneStar' Landon, the best gunship pilot the Army had produced since Vietnam, was supposed to be dead from a crash in Afghanistan.

~o~O~o~

Dannigan read the after action reports. an investigating team would be flown in to sort through the debris. Already the base was being dismantled. Lyssa, Rodrick and LoneStar would be flown out in the morning after the transport team for the Apaches took off to return the gunships to their base.

Dannigan sent a message back to LoneStar that he should accompany Lyssa and Rodrick back as far as the east coast then fly down to Rodrick's private field in the Bahamas for some R&R, privacy assured.

LoneStar didn't answer that so he had no idea if he'd take up the offer but he sent a message to Kimberly anyway to expect him. Kimberly messaged back that Pete had flown north to see Madison and would be by herself for the weekend since the mechanic was spending time with family in the states and not due back for at least a week.

He doubted LoneStar would accept so he didn't feel the need to explain his quirks. A lot of people carried their issues like baggage but not him. LoneStar's issues were more serious. No way in heaven or Hell could anybody tell him to set it aside and get away with it. Still, maybe he would go down there and kick back for a day or two.

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CHAPTER 4

LoneStar sat in the co-pilot seat as Rodrick flew the G-10 in to land at his private airfield.

"Nobody here but me for the weekend," LoneStar asked muffled by his helmet as usual.

"Kimberly is here but she spends her time in the hangar office with her computers," Lyssa answered.

"Its a private island. People don't just wander up. That blue trailer is where you can stay and if you need anything Kimberly can take care of it and the phone in the office have mine and Lyssa's numbers pre-programmed," Rodrick added, "Can stay for a week or longer if you want. We'll be back in the states for a week then swing through on our way to Cayman."

LoneStar nodded and picked up his flight-bag to wander over to the trailer as Rodrick refueled. Lyssa passed over the cases of groceries to Kimberly along with other things she'd requested. Kimberly hadn't expected them and came out of her trailer wearing a short denim skirt and cami-T with her hair wrapped in a towel. She signed all the necessary papers Lyssa had brought for her then hugged them both and watched them leave flying north not knowing that a helmeted figure watched from inside the guest trailer.

He watched as she came to his door a few minutes later and taped a note to it then go back inside the hangar. The note was simple,

Laundry is inside the hangar as is the kitchen, I cook at 6 unless working. enjoy the beach.

She'd signed it simply with a flourished K. Lyssa and Rodrick said her name was Kimberly and she worked intel. That was it other than they were alone.

He stepped out and looked around. It was the tropical paradise they'd said. He was impressed with the assortment of aircraft in the three hangars. One Tomcat fighter, no gunships but there was three helicopters as well as numerous fixed wing aircraft and a couple of amphibious. The hangars were rated past a category five hurricane according to Rodrick so if a storm came the safest place to be was in any of the hangars.

He wandered into what apparently was the main hangar. It housed the helos and fighter and had a second level with walls. The office mentioned he assumed. He found himself walking up and then saw movement to his side and a woman with her back to the door bent over doing something to her hair. The sound of his boot scuffing the floor caught her attention making her stand up flipping her hair back.

"Oh. Hi. I didn't expect you to come up," Kimberly said.

LoneStar stood stock still in shock at the strawberry-blonde woman with brilliant green eyes.

"Wendy...." his muffled voice said from inside the helmet.

"I'm Kimberly," she introduced herself.

LoneStar turned and walked away without another word leaving Kimberly more than slightly puzzled.

~o~O~o~

Lyssa and Rodrick walked into the virginia beach house and he sprawled on the couch.

"Tomorrow we can start getting things closed up here to go back to Cayman," Lyssa said.

"Sounds good to me. All this cold and wet is getting to me. I hate winter, kinda depressing," Rodrick muttered as she slid to lay on top of him.

"Well its not my favorite thing either but we can't sequester ourselves on Cayman all the time," Lyssa admitted getting comfortable.
"What about retirement," he asked.

"That's way down the road, we still have the wedding to do Hotrod," Lyssa chuckled.

Rodrick laughed, "well let's eat then you do your bubble bath thing and we'll go to bed to kill this jetlag."

They both laughed then set about having dinner then her bubble bath but ended up going to sleep in front of the fireplace together.

~o~O~o~

Kimberly looked out at the figure on the beach. He still wore his flight-suit and helmet. She couldn't understand why, they were alone on the island, he could at least shed the helmet and enjoy the breeze alone. A quick check of the timer showed forty-five more minutes before dinner would be ready so she went down. He didn't move from where he'd been standing for the past three hours when she stepped up beside him.

"The sunsets are amazing here, I guess because the air is so clean," she commented.

when he didn't respond she turned to walk back to the hangar, "dinner'll be ready in half an hour or so. I'll set a plate in the fridge if you don't want to join me just clean up after yourself."

He didn't join her but when she came back into the kitchen for a bottle of water she saw that he had eaten and washed up after. sometime after two A.M. she heard a very loud and clear bellow, "WENDY! NO!"

Kimberly didn't take the time to bother changing from her gown, just grabbed her pistol and bolted to the blue trailer nearby. Outside she could hear thrashing about from within. The door was locked so she felt under the skirting and grabbed the spare key and unlocked it to dive inside and stalk to the rear.

At the bedroom door she looked in and saw him all alone thrashing back and forth screaming to recoil back then force himself forward again as if fighting an unseen enemy that denied attack.

Constantly he called out the name,"WENDY," finally screaming it out animalistically then curling up as if trying to protect himself from something surrounding him. Finally he bolted upright and looked straight at her. A cloud passed letting moonlight pour in revealing Kimberly in the door way.

LoneStar surged forward oblivious to the pistol and wrapped his arms around her, "be real. Be real. Wendy be real."

Kimberly's lightning mind snapped some pieces together and instead of doing the kindest thing, she did the right one.

Softly she said, "its Kimberly. I'm sorry but I'm Kimberly, you were dreaming. I'm Kimberly."

He pulled back and looked at her finally seeing her. Kimberly couldn't believe what she was seeing and now understood why the helmet was worn constantly. The other pieces clicked into place as well as she stared into his face, half of it had been severely damaged obviously by fire. Crystal blue eyes haunted by devastation stared back into her green ones then closed as the mangled man fighting night terrors slowly sank to the floor and screamed with all the air inside his lungs.

Kimberly held him close and whispered, "I'm sorry I'm not who you wanted me to be. I'm so sorry."

After a few moments he caught enough breath and began to sob. Kimberly began to weep too, she now understood some of what Rodrick had gone through with Lyssa when they first got serious. She knew two things for certain. First; the man she held now was severely damaged more than she'd ever heard of before and second; this was something she'd never be able to leave alone until she understood it all.

"I don't even know your name but I want to help. Please tell me what happened to you," she whispered.

"We were together in an Apache heavy fire and the rocket hit us. We slammed in and exploded. Fire was everywhere. I couldn't get out, couldn't get her out. Wendy's dead, burned to death in front of me."

Kimberly held him tighter, "Who was Wendy?"

The scarred face looked up, eyes again filled with devastation, "I'm Joe Landon, LoneStar. Wendy was my wife and I killed her."

Kimberly gasped. The name LoneStar had once been a name feared and respected by pilots and had all but become a nostalgic whisper. Lieutenant Colonel Joseph Landon; rumored to be dead, yet here he was breaking down in her arms. Kimberly wept more seeing the once great pilot thought to be invincible now a mangled shadow of himself. The first rays of sunlight began to filter through as she continued to hold him close, exhausted from the ordeal he slipped into exhausted sleep as Kimberly's tears still fell.