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The loss of John rattled Operation 40 to its very core. Per preset contingency plans, Hudson Weaver assumed control of the company and its assets.

Angel "Blitz" ??????

Sunday, June 23rd 1991

Operation Forty Headquarters

One Week after Angola.

John's death rattled OP40 to the core, and the news of Dropkick being shotdown and her crew being lost brought all but the most sensitive operations to a halt. Shelby had ended up passing from her injuries later in the hospital, leaving only one member of those who crewed the gunship alive, and her last words had been to me. A thank you for trying to save her little brother. The pain of being cooked alive by white phosphorus hadn't compared to the anguish I felt losing John and Anni. I spent a lot of that week hooked up to ventilators and a bunch of other equipment, in and out of consciousness, and only able to start moving around on my own again come Saturday. Saying goodbye to the closest thing I'd ever had to a family hadn't been easy. I didn't have many good things to say about the Draco brass, but since Draco and O4S worked so closely together, they had given us the time until they needed us in Iraq to grieve, and allowed us to be there for the funeral, and it had been a beautiful sight. OP40 had put on a hell of a show for their fallen commander and his daughter, complete with dress uniforms and an electric guitar playing of the national anthem and the procession to the company's private cemetery must have been four and a half miles long. Hudson had access to a huge cargo truck, and so we rode on that in the procession, shielded from prying eyes, of course. I was shocked just how accepting of us that the members of O4S were, and I did get my share of sincere thankyous for my actions in Angola. Many words were had, many tears were shed, and many laughs were laughed as John's men told their stories. Some of them had been with him since he first enlisted in the Marines. Some had been under his command during the cold war, and some of us had him as an instructor in basic training. Out of all the people who spoke, the members of Raven had the most to say. Hudson, his older brother Issac, the sniper Wyatt, and for course, Frank, whose arm was now in a sling. Hudson had been speaking, and I had been too busy looking at the ground, trying to hide the rather obvious fact that I'd been sobbing my eyes out, when out of seemingly nowhere I felt a wing pull me close to a warm body. I glanced up to find it had been Tyson. Of course, the cocky bastard didn't have anything to say, I guess he just figured I needed a shoulder to cry on. Dammit, he wasn't wrong. Hudson got to telling the story of the first time they had deployed with us back in '88, which was actually a good one. I looked back on that day with mixed feelings. It had been my first combat deployment, and until that day, I hadn't met anyone on Talon. I had mostly kept to myself in basic, but I had leaned pretty heavily on them this last week.

"When they told us were going to deploy with a team of dragons, I don't think a single one of us believed them" Hudson said. There was a time I would have thought that statement was entirely true, but now I knew better, "So, imagine our shock when we roll up to the FOB, and the first thing that happens is Taro comes out to greet us. I swear we all cleared a good two feet of air with how shocked we were."

Hudson grinned and panned the crowd with his finger, "And you all fuckin' know what I'm talking about, I don't want no liars today."

There was a round of deep laughter, because some of those guys had reacted the same way not an hour ago.

"But, three years and a dozen successful missions later, here we are. I was hesitant to get up here, because I've had something on my mind that I think needs to be said. Even though I don't think this is maybe the most appropriate place to say it, I feel strongly enough about it that I will, I don't think John would mind. To those of you who have deployed with Draco dragons in the past, and I know I have a few of them here today, look after those kids folks. They need people they know they can trust, and when it's you, you may just find that you have someone who's willing to walk through the fires of hell for you."

Bagh, words cut like a knife. Tyse gave me a good squeeze as Hudson continued speaking.

"John. I knew you for the better part of forty years. Shared a lot of good laughs, shared a lot of tears, and spent more time in the suck with you and the other Ravens than a man my age has any business doing. And, while few here know the true extent of our struggles, I do finally have an answer for the question you asked me on a rainy night back in eighty five. Yes. I do truly believe that the things we did, good and bad, were a net positive for not just the people of our country, but for the world. Given a choice to do it all over, only thing I'd ask is for someone to pass me the ammo. I know you're probably hiding in a foxhole with Saint Mike, pointing that M249 down range and waiting for the devil to try something. Goodbye my friend, hold it down until the rest of us get there."

No words, not even a whisper, were spoken when Hudson walked off the stage, down to stand in front of the two caskets. Ten men in olive green dress uniforms and black leather gloves stood holding ceremonial AR-15's on each side of John and Anni. Hudson stood at attention. Tyson removed his wing from my back and I moved back to the spot I had been in. Hudson paused for a moment, then put his hands behind his back.

"ATTENTION!" Hudson yelled.

A deep sound echoed through the warm Texas afternoon as hundreds of pairs of polished dress boots adjusted to attention, us dragons included. It was kind of hard for me, because I was pulling on my white phosphorus burns underneath this tight fitting black body glove I was wearing to hold all the medicated bandages in place. Certainly wasn't comfortable.

Hudson paused again. A woman marched to him, carrying a ceremonial M1 Garand, which she handed to him. Hudson took the weapon, inspecting it as if he were a member of the honor guard. He then put the weapon over his left shoulder, stood at attention and saluted her. She saluted back and marched off, getting back in line with whom I presumed was the rest of her unit. Hudson turned to face the rest of the men, switching the rifle over to his left side.

"Ready!"

The men with the AR-15's readied them, moving as though they were all a cog in a well-oiled machine, their motions all starting and ending one after another in a rhythm that I had never seen before.

"Chamber!"

The men hit the bolt releases on their AR15's, chambering blanks.

"Aim!"

The men lifted their rifles to the sky.

"Fire!" Hudson shouted.

The men fired into the air. I didn't normally like listening to gunfire without hearing protection, made my head hurt. This time, it caused me more grief, and I fought to keep myself together.

"Chamber!"

The men racked the bolts on their weapons, kicking out brass that reflected the sunlight, casting little gold spots on their surroundings.

"Fire!"

I winced, struggling to keep it together as I had during my final conversation with my friend. I wasn't sure where I had found all of this mental strength, it seemed to be coming as I needed it.

"Chamber!"

"Fire!"

Faline, who was sitting next to Taro on my left, reached over and draped her tail over mine, I guess letting me know that she was paying attention.

"Fire!" Hudson shouted.

The men fired the final round in their magazines, returning the rifles to their shoulders as Hudson stepped forward. He took the M1 off his shoulder, pulled the bolt back and locked it, before returning to his attentive stance.

"Ladies and gentlemen." He announced, "Today, our Farewell will end a bit differently than what we're used to. Commander Mason and his family had a special relationship with a certain dragon of Talon Squad. John has left me specific instructions that this dragon be granted a special part in his final salute. Sargent Blitz of Project Draco, would you please step forward?"

I rose from my spot, I could feel the eyes on me as I approached Hudson, doing my very best to walk normally, despite the pain in my front leg. I sat directly in front of Annie's casket, adorned with bright flowers and an American flag. Hudson turned and faced opposite the way he had been, holding a rigid salute as a woman in a sleek black dress and darkly colored veiled sunhat appeared, I recognized her, Taylor Mason...John's wife of thirty five years. The sun hat and veil worked well to hide the fact that her body had been ravaged by cancer these last few years. I had always had a soft spot for her, because she treated me like one of her own. Her eyes were red and puffy as she presented me a small, black case and opened it. Inside was a polished M1 Garand EnBloc clip containing eight blanks. The clip and blanks had all been polished to the point I could see the fine details in the threads of my eyes when I took the clip from the case. Hudson presented me the rifle as Mrs. Mason stepped to my side.

"LOAD!"

I took the rifle from him, having to hold it under my left leg to be able to properly load the thing. Hudson remained at attention as, with shaking paws, I struggled to load the firearm. With some difficulty, and managing to keep the flood gates closed, I loaded the eight round enbloc clip into the weapon, closed the bolt, and handed it back to Hudson.

"LOADED!" I managed to keep my voice from cracking, barely.

Hudson took the firearm and the both of us turned to face the crowd again. A man I couldn't see took over the commands that Hudson had been giving.

"Ready!"

Hudson readied the firearm.

"Fire!"

The sound of the M1 seemed to play in slow motion, I could swear my entire team saw me fight to keep from flinching. It grew worse and worse as Hudson worked through the clip, and when the rifle spit out the clip with the ping at the end, I actually did, having lost the ability to fight it any further. Hudson returned the rifle to his left shoulder, saluting with his right. Taps began to play as all of John's men struck salutes, and the two caskets went into the ground. And...I couldn't really tell you what happened after that, I'm not really sure. Things just kind of seemed to fade to black so I assumed that at some point I must have cried myself to sleep. I woke up back in the hanger where they had the wreckage of Dropkick. They didn't really have any place to put us, and since this hangar was air-conditioned, that was where they had us. The hanger was lit by the moon shining in through the large back windows, past Dropkick's imposing, dark black shadow. My burns had been re medicated and re bandaged, and at some point recently, someone had given me a bath, because what of my scales hadn't been burned off in the smoke were damp. I had managed to work myself into quite the tight curl, was pretty numb, and didn't think I could stretch even if I wanted to. I cracked open one eye, Tyson was the only other one in the hanger, sitting back on his hind legs, observing the aircraft in silence.

"Tyse?" I asked, picking my head up off my pillow.

He turned to look at me, his eyes piercing through the darkness.

"You're awake, didn't expect you to be so soon."

"Something happen?"

"I guess you don't remember huh?"

I shook my head, "I...can't say I do."

He sighed slinking back over to where his bed was and laying down, facing me.

"I think you had some kind of a panic attack bro." He explained, "When they put the caskets in the ground, you just kind of laid down and started crying. You didn't even really sob cry, just kind of...laid there and were silent. I carried you back to the vet, and they cleaned you up and put you in bed. You were starting to worry us man, thought maybe you died of grief or something. For what it's worth Blitz, I am sorry. I know you and John were close."

I sighed, covering my head with my wing. Tyson clicked his talons on the floor, then stood up, grabbed his bed and dropped it next to mine, laying back down. He stretched out, getting comfortable before He began speaking again.

"How's the burns buddy?"

"Raw." I mumbled.

"Hurt much?"

I didn't answer. Tyson paused for a long while. Some chatter and happy laughs were carrying from what seemed to be the hanger next door to ours. Easy to hear even once the AC kicked on.

"Rest of Op Forty and Talon's pouring one out in John's honor in the hanger across the way. They've got some pretty decent drinks. Why don't we go sit with the rest of the guys? Try and take some of the edge off huh?"

"You can. I don't feel like drinking right now."

Tyson clicked his tongue. Taking a deep breath and sighing, "You always have been good at not saying anything more than necessary. How about, for just one night, you stop bottling it all up, and tell me exactly what's bothering you?"

I paused for a moment, "I guess I've never told you about my life before Draco, have I?"

Tyson shook his head, "Nah. I don't think any of us have."

I sighed, wishing I could curl up into a solid ball, "For most of my life, I've lived in the dirt and the gutter Tyse. Parents dropped me off at an orphanage when I was three, 'cause they didn't fuckin' want a son. Orphanage didn't want me, and neither did the foster parents that they tried putting me with. So...I ended up on the streets when I was five. I can't tell you how many times I slept in a drain pipe, or under some cardboard, half clothed and starving. Shelters wouldn't take me because I couldn't prove I had my shots, and most of the time I was covered in fleas and lice. I was close to death by the time I was ten, and the day before my birthday, Holland picked me up, still not sure how he found me. He got me cleaned up, got me some clothes, some hot food, and then asked me if I wanted to do something cool."

Tyson clicked his tongue, "He wasn't askin' bro."

"Yeah, I know that now. It didn't matter, still doesn't. Woke up in the recovery room, Holland and Sorra telling me how sharp I looked, I can't tell you how happy I was that I had all my teeth in my mouth. Basic training started, and they kinda just left us to figure out who our friends were."

"And that was about the time they brought John in." Tyson recalled, "He was aight. I remember, you and that one jet black chick really took a liking to him."

I smiled, "Yeah. Ghost."

Tyson nudged me with his wing. I rolled over to face him, he had a big, shit eating grin on his face.

"What are you smiling about?"

"Oh nothing. Just thinking about how Ghost looked the same way at you that Taro does at Faline. Got those big, "I want this guy to have my kids with me" eyes."

"I wonder if we're even able to have kids on our own?" I inquired.

"Ehh. Fuck if I know, but I betcha it'll be Taro and Faline to find out." Tyson shrugged, "Can you keep a secret Blitz?"

"You know that's never been a problem for me."

Tyson nodded, the way that you do when someone had said something was so completely true you couldn't even really play devil's advocate to their argument.

"I grew up way out in the middle of nowhere bum-fuck Alabama in a rundown trailer with two sisters and two brothers. Brothers ran off to the Army when I was four. Sisters were both crackheads, parents were drunk all the time, to the point I wondered where what little food and clean water we had was coming from. Only good thing about it was that I had my own room, and the bathroom adjacent to it was mine. Only parts of the house that weren't covered in trash and filth. I made my money by working for the neighbors on their farm, used most of it making sure I had clean food and water, though the roaches always got into anything that wasn't canned."

"I almost feel like that's worse than being on the streets."

Tyson shrugged, "I'm not here to say I had things worse than you, at least I had a home to go back to. Holland picked me up personally too. He didn't even have to draft me, if he had asked me if I wanted to come into Project Draco, I would have gone just to get out of that house. I got to being good at reading people because I had to be, if you're not good at reading the room, you approach the wrong people for help, and go home with a few more bruises than you started the day with. Having said that, there are some cards I play close to my chest Blitz, for I'm sure much the same reason you do. I never knew you were homeless."

I shrugged, "I...I don't like to share that. I try to keep that skeleton in the closet, so to speak."

"Oh trust me, I get it. The reason I bring this up, is because I want you to understand something. You might think you're alone in this, you're not. I know loosing John's got you tore up, and I know it's hurtin' you more than it is the rest of us, but I promise you, we're hurtin' too. Taro and Firedrake are across the way drinkin' themselves silly, I guess because they think as squad leaders that's the best way to show they're hurt. I spent a good chunk of the day crying to Faline. I just...I waited to do mine until you'd done yours, just like you waited until John had done his over Anni, because I knew you needed someone, anyone, to cry to. I know that I haven't been the best friend to you over these last few years, but now, we're all we've got, and we gotta stick together."

Tyson offered his paw, "I got your six brother. You got mine?"

I accepted, "Yeah. I got you Tyse."

Tyson smiled, "It's Charlie, by the way. Charlie Wesson."

I couldn't help but return it, "Angel...Angel Crane."

The big sliding door of the warehouse opened and the overhead lights came on, I had to blink a few times before my eyes adjusted. Taro, Firedrake and Faline along with Hudson and the rest of the Ravens were at the door. There was a bunch of drunken laughter from Taro and Firedrake talking about the pranks that John had helped them play on some of the other dragons in basic. Frank was riding in a shopping cart that was being pushed by a shit faced Wyatt, and Issac and Hudson were pushing these large carts. Faline had some kind of cloth bag in her mouth, the smell of BBQ and expensive whiskey made my mouth water. I realized for the first time I hadn't eaten anything in damn near a week. Boy did my stomach growl rather painfully at the thought of BBQ and booze at one in the morning. Tyson laughed when he heard my stomach growl.

"Damn man, when was the last time you ate anything?"

"Ummm...like a week ago? Maybe?"

"No wonder you're so tore up."

"Whose tore up?" Taro asked, jumping onto his bed. His breath smelled of BBQ and sweet whiskey and the fur on his face was coated in a layer of BBQ sauce and ranch dressing. I guessed his tongue wasn't long enough to reach, otherwise he'd have licked it off. I noticed that his nose, eyes, face and cheeks were glowing a dim red underneath his normally black fur. A little heat mirage was coming off his ears.

"They're pouring some badass liquor out across the way." He said, "Did you know we can't get drunk?"

"What up with your face Taro?" Tyson asked, "It's glowin'."

"Fire in my belly's burning high because of all the booze I've been drinking." He laughed, opening his mouth, the entire inside of which was glowing a very noticeable red, highlighting the veins on the roof of his mouth.

"See!" he tried to say with his mouth wide open.

"Yeah...Interesting. Can you feel it? Like, do you feel warmer than usual?" Firedrake asked laying down beside him, Faline set the bag she was carrying down and lay at Taro's opposite side.

"Not really." Taro yawned, "You're glowing too, what about you?"

"Am I?" Firedrake asked.

I looked a bit closer at Firedrake's face, could see a faint blue glow from in-between his scales, "yeah, maybe a little. How much you throw back?"

"Not as much as Taro. Bottle of Old Number 7."

"How much did Taro have?" I asked, 'Now I gotta know."

"Hush, I didn't drink that much." Taro insisted.

"Fuckin' lyin' ass motherfucker!" Frank quipped from the shopping cart, throwing back a gulp from the Budweiser in his hand, "You'd 'have drank us under this bitch if we let you!"

"Dude, why are you in a shopping cart?" I asked.

"It's best not to question it." Hudson said as he and Issac set up the two, large rolling carts against the wall. They lifted the lids, revealing two whole cows it looked like. They were dripping juices into a catch pan under the meat, and I could smell the seasoning and the brine just from the steam that rolled out of the cart. I could smell fresh baked bread and Frank's secret recipe of BBQ sauce from both cases.

"Wow, the hell'd you bring us? I never smelled anything like that before!" Tyson asked licking his whole face, trying to keep from drooling.

Hudson laughed, "Food. Frank got to cookin' as soon as he could walk again. Two of the biggest cows he could get off his ranch, brined and slow roasted for...Frank, how long you roast this stuff for?"

Frank took a swig of the Budweiser in his hand, "48 hours in one of the biggest pits in Texas. I do one or two of 'em every year for all our guys, but we made five of 'em this time. I saved the best two for our little band of misfists though. You can't let a man like John go on a sour note, gotta make sure he's properly remembered."

"And no one loved Frank's BBQ quite like John did." Issac added.

"How you feeling Frank?" I asked.

"Stump still hurts, they're working on a prosthetic for me, we'll see where that goes." He took another swig of beer, "What about you? I heard you set yourself on fire."

Tyson chuckled, I hung my head.

"I didn't set myself on fire, just, my actions did cause me to catch fire. Let's set the record straight."

"So...you set yourself on fire." Frank laughed, finishing his beer, "'Ey! This fuckin' beer's empty!"

Wyatt dug into the bag that Faline had been carrying and tossed him another Budweiser. Frank cracked it and took a big gulp as Hudson started cutting and plating meat and bread. He had brought these big, stainless steel dog bowls and was cutting huge pieces of meat off the cow from very specific areas. The slabs of ribs were served to Tyson, Faline and Firedrake, meanwhile Taro and I were served the brisket. He gave us all these big cups of juice that he poured over the meat and bread, along with a side of either mashed potatoes or mac & cheese, depending on what we wanted. After the week I'd had, I just hopped I'd be able to keep all this down. No one else hesitated to tear into Frank's BBQ as the humans all served themselves. It was interesting watching Wyatt push the shopping cart containing Frank to the serving cart, pile his plate full and then back to its place next to the beer cooler. I had my face well into the brisket, not paying any attention to what was going on around me, when Taro spoke up.

"Ey wait a minute, I just noticed we're missing Emelia, where she at?"

Taro mentioning it was when I realized I hadn't seen Emelia since we left Africa, she hadn't even been at the funeral.

"We're not sure." Hudson said, "She took all of her equipment and abandoned us shortly after we got back from Africa. She was mumbling about something the whole way back, about how she was "running out of time." She didn't elaborate, just bailed."

"Hmm. Wonder what's up?" Faline pondered.

"No fuckin' clue." Frank said.

As we continued eating, the sweetest smelling whiskey I'd ever smelled hit my nose, even though it was buried in a piece of bread soaked with brisket juices. I looked up from my food, licking the pieces of meat and juices off my snout, observing Hudson pouring a deep amber colored liquid from what honestly looked like a clay bottle into some plain shot glasses. Everyone stopped eating and observed Hudson as he put the glasses on a steel tray, handing out one to everybody.

"I don't pull this stuff out often." Hudson said, "My own special recipe, the best whiskey you'll ever drink."

"I'd ask what the occasion is." Frank said somberly, "Except I already know."

"Don't we all?" Wyatt said, "Oh you kids are in for a treat."

"I'm like 20 years old." Tyse said as Hudson handed him the glass, "I'm not a kid."

"Ya' are to us Tyse." Frank said as Hudson returned to his spot, remaining standing as he held out the shot glass.

"Let's toast everyone. To John, here's to forty years of hunting the enemies of freedom in some of the worst shitholes on the planet, and givin' a hand to the folks who needed it the most!"

"To John!" I said picking up my shot, "You might not have been my father, but you sure as shit were my Dad!"

"Boy do I agree with that! To John!" Tyson said, "For helping me realize where I came from isn't where I'm going."

"To John!" Faline joined, "For just being a damn good friend."

"We're gonna fuckin' miss ya brother! Thanks for being there when we needed ya, means more than you ever knew!" Taro added, "To John!"

"For getting' us through our first mission in one piece, and keepin' us sane while ya' did." Firedrake smiled raising his glass, "You're not gonna be forgotten. To John!"

"For scooping me out of the bottom of Satan's asshole in Angola!" Frank laughed, "Here's to ya, ya crazy fuckin' bastard! To John!"

"For keeping the Vietcong from tacking my hide to a wall in 'Nam.' Wyatt raised his glass, "To John."

And finally Issac, "To being the best little brother a man could ask for. I didn't deserve ya, to John!"

"Here here!" we all said together, throwing the shots back. Now, to say I had never had a drink before would, in fact, be a lie. Draco dragons drink, just that how much we're allowed to is pretty closely watched, so I'd never been a heavy drinker. Having said that, Hudson's recipe was simply the best tasting alcoholic drink that I'd ever had. I don't actually think I can put it into words exactly just how good this shit tasted. Sure did give me a kick in the fire bladder though. I couldn't stop flames from rolling out of my throat and escaping from between my teeth. All of us dragons had our heads light up like Christmas trees, Taro more so than all of us. Strong shit.

"Wow!" Firedrake exclaimed as he coughed up rings of bright yellow fire, "That'll put some hair on your chest."

"I think my fuckin' balls just dropped holy shit." Taro agreed, "The hell you put in that?"

Hudson smiled warmly, "That my friends, is my personal secret and one I will be taking to my grave."

"I thought you were like...immortal and shit?" Faline asked yawning, the inside of her mouth glowing bright white.

"I am." Hudson laughed.

"That's Hudson's way of saying no one's ever getting that recipe." Frank said taking another sip of his beer, "Damn beer tastes like dog piss after Hudson's whiskey."

"Most alcohol does." Issac agreed as I went back to my food, "Hard to go from Hudson's Blend to fuckin' Budweiser."

"Don't fuckin' knock my Budweiser, it's the superior beer." Frank insisted.

"Fuck you and the shopping cart you rode in on." Issac said flipping Frank off.

"Don't attack my shopping cart!" Frank said holding his good arm out, "You're jealous that you ain't got one."

"I don't understand how the two of you aren't slurring your words." Tyson said puffing rings of fire as he tried to break one of the ribs to suck the marrow out.

"We can hold our booze boy." Frank said finishing the last of the beer, "fifty two years of combat experience will do that to you."

"How old are you Frank?" I asked.

"Seventy three." Frank said.

"That means that Frank was in the military when my Dad was in diapers." Taro laughed, "Respect."

"We're old men in a profession where men die young Taro. Hell, I remember drilling John and Issac when they were drafted at the ass end of Vietnam."

"I tried to tell you ya were gonna be taking orders from that kid one day." Hudson said, "You didn't listen."

"John was drafted?" I asked.

"Lot of young kids were." Frank said, "Issac, you remember Seth?"

"I fucking miss running LLRP's with that kid." Issac sighed, "He didn't deserve what he got."

"No, he surely fuckin' didn't." Frank agreed.

"What happened to him?" Faline asked.

"Kid got shit canned by a fuckin grenade." Frank sighed, "I wish I could have been there to kill the fucker who threw it myself."

"I miss Seth." Wyatt sighed, "You think he and John are out on patrol somewhere right now?"

"Knowin' Seth and John? The big man upstairs has a whole planet filled with targets for 'em. Question is how many of 'em they'll save for us."

"I didn't realize the Project ran back that far." I commented.

Hudson nodded, "Yep, we've served with a lot of Draco dragons over the years, they've all been good kids, especially you guys."

"We appreciate that Hudson." Taro said.

"Draco brass'll never tell you that they're proud of ya." Frank insisted, "We will. Also, Hudson, wanna go ahead and hit them with that real shit? It's getting late and they're gonna need rest before they go to Iraq."

Hudson set down his food, all of us stopped eating and focused on him.

"So, we've been serving together for about three years now. I've worked with lots of Draco dragons in the past, made good friends with a bunch of them too. Some of 'em are still around doin' gods work, some of 'em have since passed. But in the many, many years that I've been in the military, I've never fought with a group of kids that I trusted more than you all. Having said that, I'm going to ask you all a simple, yes no question. I need honest answers. The truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Am I clear?"

"Sir, yes sir." We answered in unison.

"Kids, we trust you with our lives, completely. Do you trust us with yours? Taro?"

"Hell yes I do."

"Firedrake?"

He nodded, "Better believe it."

"Faline?"

"Hell yeah, you guys are like family."

"Blitz?"

"I trust ya'll with my soul." I stated.

"And Tyson?"

He nodded, "Yep. More than anyone."

"Okay." Hudson said, "Given that, what we're about to discuss must never leave this hangar No one outside this circle, and I do mean, no one, can ever know about what I'm about to tell you. Is that clear?"

"Sir, yes sir." We answered in unison again.

"John and I had been discussing this for about eight months, making phone calls, calling in favors. We're not quite ready to roll anything out yet, but Op-40 has been working on setting up our own Project Draco, so to speak."

All of us dragons exchanged glances, everyone seemed to be thinking the same thing, but Tyson beat us all to the punch.

"Why?"

"Some of our men who deploy with other squads started whispering to me and John about a year ago about some rather shady things. Dragons that had been showing up looking like they'd been beaten, dragons that had mysteriously fallen ill and died when they were perfectly healthy days prior, and evidently, a new type of ammunition that can defeat dragon scales has recently been found among insurgent forces in Iraq. We have some really good guys working in the area you guys are going to be heading to that will be watching you, but there have been reports of this dragon killing ammo in that area hitting my desk."

I shuddered involuntarily.

"So what? Now we have to worry about any old bastard with an AKM being able to take us out?" Taro yelped.

"I thought we could take anything up to a fifty BMG?" Tyson asked.

"Normally, that would be true." Frank said, "But this weird ass shit basically has a hypodermic needle in it. The force it projects when it hits your scales just shatters them, then it's like being shot with a hollow point."

"Why don't you just kill us now?" Tyson asked sarcastically, sucking the marrow out of one of the ribs, "Why are you telling us this?"

"And what does it have to do with your own project?" I asked.

"I want you guys to understand something." Hudson said, "You five have a home here if you want it. We're going to give you a number that you can call that will ring straight to O4S. If any of you guys ever want out of Draco because you feel something isn't quite right, call us. Somebody will come for you within 12 hours, no questions asked. Having said that, heed this warning. You can't just bounce on a whim, because Draco will come for you if you do, you'll have to make them think you're dead."

"How do you propose we do that?" Tyson asked.

"Y'all are resourceful kids. When the time comes, you'll figure it out. We've managed to pull four dragons out of the project successfully already. Got a team right now going after two more, in fact."

"When's that team leavin' Hudson?" Frank asked.

"Tonight actually."

"Are they the ones gonna be watching us?" I asked.

"No. They're specifically there to get those dragons out of where they're at." Hudson said, "The guys we sent to watch you are professional snipers, you probably won't ever see them. And a word of caution nonetheless. One of those dragons is related by blood to a member of that team. I've already told them they're weapons free for anyone who gets in their way."

"That includes US troops and Draco Dragons." Frank cautioned, "If you get in their way they WILL kill you. Don't get in their way. Please."

"We'll make sure to stay out of their way." Taro said finishing his food.

I wasn't sure what the others were thinking, but I found a strange comfort in the knowledge that I had a fall back plan if god forbid things ever went seriously wrong. We finished the night out by packing away the two roasted cows and drinking Hudson under the hangar, as he put it. By the time everything was done and put away, Taro's entire body was glowing like a damn glow stick, and all of us were a bit more luminous than usual. We still had a day before Draco was sending us to Iraq, and with that being said, we didn't intend to do much. Once dinner was done, Hudson walked me to the Vet so I could get cleaned up and my burns looked after. Apparently they had hired this vet about two years ago, and she was taking care of the other four dragons that were on base. I never liked doctors much, but Hudson promised she was gentle as could be, and none of the dragons on base complained about her. It also just so happened that one of them, a male, was there as well.

He was a bigger wingless dragon, colored dark green with these strange looking, pink and green eyes. Odd looking combo, but he somehow made it work. He was missing a horn, and the remaining one was two or so feet long, coming out almost parallel to the back of his head, chipped and cracked like a bastard too. His head crest and ears were torn to ribbons, looked like he'd lost a fight with a wet cat. He had fresh cuts and lacerations all over his muzzle, reinforcing my wet cat head cannon. He was also wearing this interesting looking, desert camouflage body glove that covered from the base of his neck, down to his ankles and to the base of his tail. The areas where his joints bent looked padded and reinforced, while the glove itself was made of some kind of thick, stretchy material. It also looked like where his weapons vest would normally ride was thicker than the rest of the suit as well, and the entire thing zipped up his back, so he likely needed the help of a human team mate to put it on. He had a Sony Walkman hanging on a piece of string around his neck with his dog tags, lost in whatever song was blaring in his headphones when Hudson and I walked in.

As I sat down, Hudson went up to the green dragon and tapped his shoulder, he pulled his headphones down.

"Yes sir?" He asked.

"You okay there Captain?" he asked.

The dragon shrugged, "Can't sleep. My pup's been waking up wailing with it comin' out both ends, scared to leave him and the mate alone. I'm petrified that I brought back some weird ass swamp disease from Brazil that I'm for whatever reason asymptomatic. Vet can't find anything wrong with me, but says my kid's all kinds of sick."

"Sealegs will be here for ya in two hours." Hudson said, "if you feel strongly enough about it, let me know and I'll pull you off mission. Your family's gotta come first."

"Yes sir I will."

Hudson turned to me, "Oh, by the way, Blitz, this is Mako, one of the dragons that we got out of Draco. Good friend of ours, and one of the ones that'll be headed to Iraq tonight."

He turned back to Mako, "Mako, this is Blitz from Talon squad. They're friends of OP-40, and have already been briefed on our presence in Iraq. You're still weapons free, but keep an eye out for this one. He's a good kid."

Hudson yawned, "Play nice boys, its way past quittin' time for me."

"Have a good night sir." Mako said.

Hudson flashed the peace sign as he left the infirmary. Mako turned to me, lowering the volume on his headphones.

"Are you the dragon who almost fuckin' burned in the white phosphorus tryin' to save John?" he asked.

I nodded, lifting my wing to show the body glove I was wearing, "Raw as fuck under here."

"Braver than I am." Mako shrugged, "How many years you got in?"

"Five." I said, "They nabbed me when I was ten."

"Damn bro." Mako said, "I thought they got me young."

"How old were you when they hit ya?" I asked.

"I was 13, back in seventy."

I chuckled, "You were in the military when I was in diapers, I'm noticing a theme here."

Mako smiled, "You mean that OP-40 is full of old geezers that are professional killers? Yeah, that's pretty much it."

"Did I hear you say you had a kid?" I inquired, tilting my head.

Mako nodded, "I have two, actually. Two sons."

I laid down, out of discomfort mostly, but also because I was paying close attention to Mako, and laying down was something I tended to do when I was.

"What's the story behind that?"

"Long." Mako said, proning out as well, "Short version. My girl and I were both curious if we could, and so we decided to try, as much from wanting children as it was because our cycles line up. I never actually expected anything to happen, but I got back to barracks after a particularly grueling day of Hudson and John runnin' me like slave masters tryin' to turn in a cotton harvest, and I found my new mate curled up on the floor of the barracks with two eggs. Everyone in the barracks fuckin' clapped. Most embarrasin' shit of my life."

"Bruh!" I laughed.

"I learned later that she was scared she might crush them during the birthing process because of how bad some of her muscle contractions were, didn't want me to see it happen if it did. I told her I wasn't leaving her side until those eggs hatched, and dammit I was there when those boys hatched. I still get butterflies in my stomach when I look at her or those kids. Dammit I love 'em so fuckin' much, but I wish the little demons would stop tearing my face up while I sleep."

"So shredded ears and lacerated face wasn't caused by a wet cat?" I inquired.

"Fraid not buddy."

"Damn. There goes my head cannon."

"Sorry kid." Mako chuckled, "Thanks for doing the best you could to save the man who saved me. It means a lot, more than you know."

I was about to reply when the vet walked back in. A short, five five blonde woman in a lab coat, she was covered in what was pretty clearly vomit and diarrhea. There was one job I could never do, I'd take white phosphorus over liquid shit any day of the week.

"Mako?" she addressed.

"Yes mam?"

"Looks like he has a pretty run of the mill case of stomach flu. I know you don't really wanna hear this, but your test came back positive too, so he probably caught it from you. I got him all cleaned up and got him to sleep, so I'll keep him here over night and get an IV him, he'll be fine in like two days. I do wanna test your mate and other son for it as well, just in case it spread, so I've already called them in. In the meantime, you're free to use the back room if you wanna nap until the plane gets here, or you're also welcome to go sit with your son until your mate gets by. I could also recommend to Hudson that you stay off the mission if you like."

Mako sighed, "I'll hang out close to him until the plane gets here, because if that kid says daddy don't go I ain't going."

"That's your call." The vet shrugged. She then turned to me.

"Blitz, let me clean up and then I'll be ready for you, room 305."

She turned back through the door and vanished down the hallway. Mako stood up and stretched, looking at me and smiling, nodding towards the door.

"Well? Wanna come see a baby dragon?" He asked.

"Uhhh...kinda."

Mako nodded for me to follow. We walked back to the very back of the infirmary, room 315, where, laying sprawled out on a table that would be about waist high for a human, was a little dark green and grey dragon. He looked just like his Dad, though he was asleep and I couldn't see his eyes. Unlike his Dad, he had wings, so I presumed that he must have picked that up from his mom. His horns matched his Dad, and he had little spikes running from his neck all the way down his back and tail that stopped right before his tail fins, something I hadn't seen on a dragon before. He also had these little fins at the tops of his back legs, behind his wings. The kid was so out of out of it on whatever the doc had shot him fill of that his wings were hanging limp off his sides, and his forked tongue was hanging out the side of his face. His Dad chuckled as he observed the limp mess his kid had turned into as he sat down by his side. My heart melted more and more the longer I looked at him, he was adorable.

"Damnit he's so fuckin' cute! I want one!" I laughed sitting down in the doorway.

"Yeah you say that now." Mako laughed, "But when they get to bitin' yer' toes and stealing food off your plate, you'll be wondering what you were thinking."

"What's his name?" I asked.

"Sozenn." Mako said, "Not my first choice, but I got to name the other one."

"What's the other one's name?" I asked.

"Alcatraz. Because no matter what his Mom and I do, we can never escape him, and the little grey blur is always hungry."

I couldn't stop laughing, Mako smiled, and then hit me with some real shit.

"I've been a dragon for twenty one fuckin' years Blitz. I've seen some fucking shit, can't tell you how many times I woke up in a cold sweat in a barracks somewhere because of a nightmare. But I'll tell you one thing, the day I first held my kids in my paws, it all melted away. They've made everything I've been through in the last twenty one years worth it, a million times over."

"Maybe someday I'll know what that feels like."

"Kid like you?" Mako smiled, trying to police his son's wings, "I don't think you'll have a problem attracting a good mate. Better get off to your room now, Doc will come for you like a rabid animal if she gets there and you're not waiting."

"See you. Good meeting you Mako."

"You too brother."

I turned and left, going to wait in 305 for the vet. The room was pretty sparsely furnished, just some cabinets and a sink against the back wall, and this basin in the middle that had this shower head looking fixture hanging from the ceiling. The doc had spread some medicated ointment and a crap ton of big gauze pads, along with a fresh black medical glove out on the back counter. I assumed I was probably going to be getting a bath, which I really didn't want, but there wasn't any point of trying to fight the doc. Mako was in the other room, and he looked a whole lot stronger than me. I sat quietly in the corner, and about five minutes passed before the vet showed up.

"Sorry about the wait Blitz, but I couldn't very well tend to you with vomit all over me."

"It's fine."

"Go 'head and jump in that basin in the center for me. I'll get you cleaned up, change your bandages and you'll be on your way."

I stepped into the steel basin. The vet removed the body glove and carefully peeled off all the nasty bandages, depositing them in a biohazard bin. She then rinsed me off with warm water from the overhead before applying a medicated shampoo to my burns. She used this strange sort of soft, spongy thing to work up a good lather, and as gentle as she was, the burns were still so fuckin' raw that it did sort of feel like you know, someone scrubbing me with sandpaper. I did my best to control my squirming, even though it wasn't easy.

"Hold still buddy." The vet said softly, "The more you squirm, the more likely I am to tear these burns."

The vet finished cleaning my wounds and then rinsed me off with cooler water, drying me with a soft, fuzzy towel before medicating and bandaging them. She put on the fresh body glove and gave me some decent head scratches.

"There ya go. All done. By the way, Hudson said to come see him in his office, he has something for you."

I yawned. Fuckin' long day, and all the cryin' I'd been doing had taken a bunch out of me, but it was probably best not to keep Hudson waiting. I supposed it didn't matter, I'd have all day tomorrow to sleep, which consequently is exactly what I planned on doing. I walked across the tarmac towards Hudson's office. It wasn't the first time I'd been to OP-40's base, but every time I came here I was always impressed. The base sat on a two thousand acre ranch, had a full airport and runway, a motor pool, infantry training course, a tank course and a bomb range, along with barracks facilities for their guys. I always wondered what the price tag of this place was, and John had always told me that he purposefully didn't look at invoices regarding it, said that was always for the money people. I shrugged, couldn't say I blamed him. I passed a couple of humans working on tank as I made my way towards Hudson's, formerly John's, office. It was located in a repurposed hangar, and the hangar itself was mostly empty.

Walking in, Hudson was sitting in the corner of the building at his desk, while John's was empty. He was staring intently at some documents while he smoked a cigar, reading by a lamp as all the lights in the hangar were off. He had more of that sweet smelling whiskey poured in a glass and hadn't noticed me walk in. He was listening to what sounded like Tears for Fears on a little cassette player on the corner of his desk. My talons clicking on the floor was what caused him to look up. He set the papers he was looking at down, puffing on his cigar as I approached. He closed the folder.

"Evening Blitz." He said, tapping the cigar on his ashtray to get the burnt fibers off, "Mary get you cleaned up okay?"

"Yes sir." I replied sitting at attention in front of his desk.

"This is after hours son." Hudson said leaning back in his chair, "No need for formalities."

I relaxed a little. "Ms. Mary said you wanted to see me?"

"I do." Hudson said, "I have something for you."

Hudson reached into his desk with his free hand, handing me a clear box with a velvet lining that contained John's Raven's Ribbon, a quarter sized gold medal with an engraving of a raven's head on it, embossed on the back with the Lord's Prayer. John had always been a deeply religious man, and recently I was finding some of it was rubbing off on me, it offered a strange comfort.

"You wear that ribbon proudly Blitz, for the world to see." Hudson said taking a puff on his cigar, "You earned it. You're one of us now boy, and you have a home here if you want it."

"So...I didn't dream that...did I?"

"Yes and no." Hudson said, "Your mind was there, your body stayed here, it's old magic boy, I never claimed to know how it worked."

"So...the jokes about you being Immortal?"

Hudson pointed to a small bruise on his forehead, then motioned to his signature aviator sunglasses, laying broken on his desk, "I did take one to the noggin in Africa, broke my fifty year old pair of aviators. Which sucks because that company's long out of business."

I chuckled, "Damn."

"By the way Blitz, there is one more thing."

Hudson turned towards John's desk, and it was then I realized someone was sitting there. They were smaller, so I hadn't seen them...I strangely hadn't smelled them either.

"Taylor?" Hudson said.

John's wife, wearing a flowing black dress and formal gloves rose from her husband's desk. Now, since she wasn't wearing her sunhat, her pale skin and greying eyes were illuminated by the warm glow of Hudson's desk lamp. She came to stand beside me, looking up at me with a somber smile. She just stood there for a minute, reaching up to put her hand on my cheek.

"There's so much I want to say to you Angel, and so little time to say it in. Thank you for everything you've done for my husband and daughter over these past three years, I'll be forever thankful."

She spoke in barely a whisper. I wasn't sure if it was because the cancer was knocking on her door, or if it was exhaustion due to sheer grief. But nonetheless, she continued.

"Hudson and Otani spoke with me about an hour ago." She smiled again, "I'm going to join my husband and daughter in your ranks. When the time's right, we promise to find you again."

"What about Danny and Alex?" I asked.

She smiled, gently stroking my head, "I understand your concern honey, but please don't fret. Just live your life, and let Hudson and the other Guardians do what they do. Of course you have challenges ahead, but it's nothing you can't handle. The Lord works in strange ways, and John always believed that he had a plan for you."

She hugged me tightly, I wrapped her up with a wing. After a minute or two, she let me go and stepped back. My heart broke just a little more, because I knew what was coming.

"Hudson, it's about time I think."

Hudson took that same chrome plated 1911 out of his desk, sliding it into that same elegant leather holster he'd worn in the library.

"Yes mam." He said, there was a hint of cracking in his voice as he dawned that black jacket and fixed his tie, "I believe it is."

"Angel, honey?" Taylor said addressing me one last time. She wiped the tears away from my eyes, "I promise you everything will work out in the end, you just have to give it time. Just by being in Africa when you were, you've already made more of a difference than you realize."

She dawned a dark black veil that had been sitting on her husband's desk, she and Hudson turned to leave the hangar out a back door, right before they reached it, she stopped.

"Oh...Angel?"

"Yes mam?" I asked, trying hard not to lose it.

"John said to tell you, nothing is written in stone. Otani is testing you, and when the time comes, you'll know what to do. Goodbye honey, go and get some rest."

Hudson and Taylor walked out the backdoor, shutting it quietly behind them.

I was left alone in the hangar, a million things running through my head. I yawned, exhaustion was winning, and there wasn't time to think about this tonight. I stood up, heading back to the hangar, where I found Taro and Faline curled around each other, fast asleep with light snores. Firedrake was sprawled out on his bed, and Tyson was curled tightly on his, his tail draped over his head. Everyone's glow had died down considerably, and the smell of sweet whiskey and food had been replaced with the smell of smoke, I figured they'd been puffing flame to get it to die off. I quietly slid the well-oiled bay door shut behind me, going to lay on my bed as the air conditioner kicked on. With the box containing John's ribbon tight in my paw, I shut my eyes. Letting my mind wander as to what Taylor could have met by saying Otani was testing me. I only had one answer in the brain. I looked over at Tyson, what he did for me in Africa was still in the forefront of my mind, even after everything that had happened.

I sighed as I curled up myself.

"I'm not going to let them kill you Tyse. I promise."