29
Jackie
Of Ice and Fire (She/They)
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Chapter 29:
Finest Hour
Finest Hour
My hands were shaking as I pulled the goggles down over my eyes. I toggled the fuel pumps on and checked the panel, full fuel in all tanks. I would be a little heavy, but that meant at least an hour and change of fuel, that'd do.
Power on, fuel on, magnetos on, primer on. I rolled the prop advance to full and pushed the throttles to the lower quarter and set the mixture to full rich. Radiators full open. The guard was running for me now, I could see him out of the canopy, he'd left Kensuke alone.
If he wanted me out, I'd make him shoot me.
I pushed the started for the left engine and listened as it chugged through. Oil pressure came up, one, two, three, four, five, six blades past, the engine caught. I leaned on the wheel brakes and throttled the engine up to half and then back down again, then set the mixture to auto-rich.
He stopped and threw his arms up in confusion, he was probably smart enough not to approach a spinning propeller. Hopefully he was smart enough not to try stopping me.
I hit the starter for the right engine and watched through six, seven, eight blades, before the engine caught. I dropped the mixture into auto-rich and throttled both engines up and let off the wheel brakes.
I started to roll immediately, and there wasn't time to waste. I steered the nose towards a clear patch of the apron and pushed both throttles up to the wire. The engines roared up to full military power and the craft lurched forward. I felt each crack in the pavement through the tires as I lumbered forward.
As always there had never been a choice. Not in the arctic, not over the pacific. Not with my father, nor Asuka. Since the very first day I set foot inside Nerv, there was never a choice. I would fight, because I had to fight, because I was a person who could fight. Even if somebody else could do it, I couldn't ask them to do it alone.
I reached down and powered on the gyro-stabalized gun-sight. The cross-hair lit up and floated in front of me inside of the mechanism. It had been a live fire demonstration, right? I could only hope that this was one of the craft that they'd loaded with ammo.
If they hadn't, I could still ram.
I eased the yoke back and the nose pitched up, with a few dozen meters of apron left in front of me I felt the mains pick up off the ground and I pulled the lever to retract the gear. In the air again, in a plane that was older than my father, from a war fought against my homeland.
And I was going to use it to fight a war against my homeland, to protect the ones that mattered to me… or I was going to die trying.
I pulled the radio set over my head and finally strapped myself into the seat, now that I had the time to. They wouldn't be able to catch me now. I looked down at the radio panel. A set this old wouldn't pick up encrypted comms, wouldn't be able to broadcast on those frequencies either. I could run on guard, or military guard, but that would be in the clear.
Unless…
I rolled to a frequency and keyed the mic, "This is November Charlie One One Three, to Robert Dean Stethem. I feel like I'm on a knife's edge. Lot of helicopter traffic up here. They're making it hard to see the Irises, what's going on?"
It was in code. It was a shitty code, but it was supposed to be, and I couldn't think of anything better. If the right people were listening, it would get their attention.
I didn't have radar, gps, navigation of any kind. I had to do this the old fashioned way, with my eyes. I rolled into a shallow turn towards the city center and kept my altitude low. This plane really shined in energy fighting but I couldn't afford to climb and make myself a visible target.
Eighty years out of date, but she still had a few tricks left, I was sure.
I eased the yoke forward and dropped altitude until I was nearly scraping the treetops. For what good it might do, every little bit that made me stand out less helped. The radio remained silent. If they heard me, if they put together what I said, they weren't responding.
My airspeed was approaching four hundred fifty, rather fast for a prop fighter. Fast even for a P-38, I had to wonder if this wasn't a K model instead of the L it appears to be. At this kind of speed it wouldn't take long either way.
And maybe I'd be lucky, and my suspicions would be invalid, it would be something else, and I was overreacting.
But Rose didn't show up when things were okay. No, she was the harbinger of sorrow. The anti-angel defense batteries lurched into the air ahead of me, propelled out of the ground on their high speed tracks.
Ahead of my flight path the ground pulled apart and an Evangelion launch track slid up into the air. Still no Angel siren. Unit Two slid up into my view, directly in front of me, a moment later. I felt my stomach drop into my feet as I stepped hard into the left rudder and wrenched the yoke over to avoid flying directly into the behemoth.
I keyed my mic back up as I leveled back out, "November Charlie One One Three to Evangelion Unit Two, what the hell is going on?"
As often as we'd played this game, if they weren't listening on VHF yet, I was going to punch someone.
"You know, you're a lot like your mother, Ikari. The military is attacking. They're trying to take over, they're trying to kill Asuka." The reply came back quickly, and in English. I recognized the voice as Mari's. It was too much to hope that Asuka would be back on her feet so quickly. "Where are you transmitting from?"
"I'm in the P-38. If we're under attack I'm not running away. Find me a place to set down and I'll join you in Unit One." I answered back. Cat was out of the bag now, right? No more use for misdirection.
"No joy Ikari, surface access lines are cut. They're trying to slow the military down, but they'll probably blow the city if they can't get in." Mari answered back as Unit Two dropped down and then lunged into a sprint towards the city center.
"Like hell!" I yelled back and rolled the frequency over to military guard.
I punched the throttle through the wire and tapped the trigger. A short burst of pure tracer erupted from the fifty cals in the nose. She had teeth. Good to know.
I keyed up, "This is Rei Ikari to anyone listening. Toyko-3 is under attack by the Japanese military. I plan to fight them with every last breath in my body. I'm fighting to save the my friends, my family, and the only home I have left. I've fought to save this world, and I haven't always done the right thing… but I've tried.
"Captain Clark, if you're listening, after what I kept from you, you don't have any obligation to me, not anymore… but if you're willing, if you've got it in your heart, I could use some help to save my friends."
My throat felt tight, the tears were flowing. Even after what I'd done, I could still find it in myself to be a burden yet again on the people who'd helped me so many times? I--
"Ikari, this is Kitty Hawk Actual. I don't kill kids and I don't abide those who do. If we burn, we're burning together. Help is on the way."
I felt the hint of a grin pulling at the corner of my mouth. Maybe my account still had enough left in it to cash a few checks against. "Roger that Kitty Hawk. Try not to shoot down the P-38 I'm driving. Long story, if I survive I'll tell you about it. Ikari out."
May as well have painted a target on my wing, but if they were shooting at me, then I knew where to shoot back. I rolled in and dove for the surface, I had all the airspeed I could want with the engines running wide open. They were good for five minutes of war emergency power, and after that I'd probably be dead.
But then I had a big red friend who was drawing more attention than I was. I saw a group of Apaches hovering in a semi circle around Mari, firing rockets at her. They were going for the cable. Not today.
They were even nice enough to line up for me. The P-38 was ready for this. She'd been resting easy since the end of the war, but she knew what to do. She had a warriors spirit.
I chopped the throttle back to half on both engines and stepped hard into the rudder to bring the cross-hair where I wanted it. I had limited ammo, had to make it count. I'd have been surprised if it was anything but full tracer belts, and I had no idea how much they loaded, but it felt pretty heavy.
The cross-hair dropped over the first helicopter and I squeezed the firing stud for the hispano and was greeted with the thumping of the twenty millimeter auto-cannon pouring out its lethal payload. Bright red tracers lanced through the side of the lead Apache, and I kept stepping into the rudder and pulling on the yoke to rake my fire across the whole group.
The lead chopper hung in the air for a moment and then dropped like a stone as the engines failed. Helicopters were fragile things. The remaining four didn't fare much better, they weren't going to stick to the fight at the very least.
Best to be sure though.
I dropped the nose again and slammed my finger down on the firing stud for the brownings and fired a torrent of bright red fifty caliber tracers towards the helicopters and raked my fire through the group again before powering the throttle back into WEP and extending out.
There were going to be more Apaches than there were bullets in my machine guns, but I was piloting a guided missile, if I wanted to think of it like that. If I lived that long. I was one manpad away from being a flaming ball of wreckage.
Ground troops were moving into the city ahead and below me. This kind of thing was crazy, moving in ground troops against an evangelion made about as much sense as a soup sandwich, but then so did fighting them with a P-38.
Let today be a day of anachronisms. I pushed the stick forward and lined the reticule up on the road in front of me and pressed down the firing stud for the brownings and raked fire up along the convoy as I pushed through into the city proper.
The buildings would give me some cover from air to air missiles, though the flying would be nerve wracking as hell. The pure tracer belts, though, would scare the hell out of anyone I fired them at, even if they were less effective.
My heart was pounding in my chest, blood rushing into my ears. I was killing men now, men who were doing the wrong thing for the right reasons, my own countrymen. They were dying because of choices I made, and then I had to be the one to pull the trigger.
I blinked the tears out of my eyes. It didn't matter, fuck them. I didn't know them. I knew Ayanami, Asuka, Misato, Father, even Mari. I knew Akagi and Touji and Hikari. I'd pick any of them over every one of these guys every single time.
I saw a plume of smoke up ahead and squinted. A missile launch from a Japanese F-2A headed right for me. I had about six or eight seconds to appreciate how fucked I was. A P-38 was never going to outrun or out turn a modern missile. I keyed my mic up and stared straight ahead, "Misato, I'm sorry. I love you."
Four. Three. Two.
Oblivion take me.
A dark grey shape pulled head of me, pulling so many G's that the wings were shaking as it trailed vapor off the wingtips. I hauled back hard on the yoke right as the missile drilled through the midsection of the jet and exploded, by what felt like only inches I cleared the debris cloud and pulled a high G turn away from the Japanese jets.
"What the fuck?" I yelled to nobody in particular as I looked up and around through the canopy to figure out what the hell just happened. Three Raptors rocketed past overhead, followed by a much, much greater number of Super Hornets.
I keyed the mic as I pushed for the deck, to bury myself between the buildings to screw up their radar locks. "Who was that? Who just took a missile for me?"
"Cylon one one is down. Cylon one one is down. Cylon One Three, disengage. We'll avenge this loss."
The tears flowed again and I clenched the microphone switch, "If it's not wearing the stars and stripes, it dies. We have no other friends today."
So this was Rose's final 'fuck you' then? Would she be pleased to know she got her own brother killed? How would she feel when she found out?
I wanted to see her face, I wanted to see her justify it.
My fuel gauge was dropping for the left wing fuel tank. I looked over, I could see a thin trail. I must have taken a small arms hit, or maybe debris from the explosion. It didn't matter, I had more fuel than I'd need.
I powered back through the road I'd strafed before and fired another burst into the soldiers as I extended out towards Unit Two. She had a couple high-tech looking jet powered VTOL craft giving her trouble.
A step backwards and a heel kick later, both of the craft had exploded into shrapnel.
Maybe she didn't need as much help as I thought. If I could get to my Evangelion I could make them all regret this.
I looked back wards the city as a large red shape flew over top of me and into a high rise. Unit Two?
My eyes were drawn back from the direction the Evangelion had come from, and I was faced with the sudden, large, form of an Angel. One with two large, foil shaped arms. So. It was going to be that kind of a day.
I slammed the throttles to the stops and held onto the yoke for dear life, and forced the plane into a dive. I needed airspeed, airspeed was distance, distance was life. Life was victory.
A flash of movement to my left told me that Unit Two had launched itself back into the air, moments before a blast from the Angel leveled the building that the Eva had previously been leaning against.
This was not a fight she could win alone.
The next blast shook the plane and threatened to knock me from the sky, and with is the city center disappeared completely. The Angel had punched the armor completely in a single shot, and had a direct line to central dogma. Not good.
But then, that hole worked for everyone, didn't it?
I pulled back on the yoke and turned my airspeed into an Immelmann turn back towards the city, or would have had I not held the turn and turned it into a Split-S maneuver that took me inside of the now torn-open geofront.
I chopped the throttle to idle and dropped the landing gear and flaps. I need to shed airspeed and get on the ground quickly. Nothing except getting to the Evangelion mattered at this point. The P-38 couldn't do what I needed it to do, not for this.
Nobody else was going to die today. Not after Becket. I couldn't allow anyone else I cared about to die.
I let the craft drop in a lateral slip to shed altitude and add drag as I neared the large flat patch of ground that I'd planned to set down on, it would be near enough an access door to serve my purposes, if I could make it in time.
I was coming in too fast, in lieu of airbrakes I fired several long bursts from the machine guns and cannon, I would be needing neither in a few moments. The mains set down on the grass with a rough thud and I leaned hard into the wheel brakes while I cut fuel to the engines.
The airplane bounced and shuddered on the rough ground, but it held together. It was made for this, and it had seen worse. As I slowed I stepped into the left rudder to bring me closer to the pyramid. The closer I could get, the shorter the trip I'd have to take.
I cut the power when the wheels finally stopped turning and I popped the canopy open. I crawled out onto the wing on shaky legs, I could smell the gasoline. I was definitely leaking. But she'd done her job.
The Angel dropped into the hole above me and the ground started to shake. I found myself frozen in terror. Either I'd die in the next few seconds or I wouldn't, but there wasn't a damn thing I could do to influence the outcome.
And then Unit Three jumped out of the lake.