FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The women who crew the AC-130 known as Dropkick are some of OP-40's most decorated and veteran personnel. Despite their stellar combat record with the company, none of them have military experience.

Monday, June 17th, 1991

John "Twitch" Mason

Joint Operation: O40S/USPDR

Task Force Raven/Task Force Talon

6:48AM

Sugar Weasel topped out their tank the entire way to the crash site, the most agonizing six minutes of my life. Forty five miles an hour on a sixty ton main battle tank had never felt as slow as it did as we made our way to the flaming wreckage of my two hundred million dollar gunship. Blitz, despite Taro's orders to stay on the ground because we knew anti air was in the area, was airborne as soon as Dropkick had called for help. From my spot on the back of Sugar Weasel, I could see that he had saved at least one of my girls that the rockets had thrown from the plane before the plane had come crashing down. I was really praying harder than I ever had that the entire crew would be okay, but more than anything, I hoped my sister and daughter were both alive somewhere in that flaming pile of shit. As we pulled up and jumped off the back of the tank, I saw one body in an O4S flight suit, too badly burned and mangled for me to identify it. Both her legs were missing, so I couldn't even check her boots for her tags. I gritted my teeth, trying to work up the courage to venture deeper into the wreck. Hudson apparently picked up on my frozen vocal chords and gave the order himself. I was grateful for him in times like these.

"Spread out! Search the brush for any signs of our fallen sisters!"

"Shelby!? Anni!?" I called stepping over the 40mm cannon, "Ya'll in here!?"

"John..." Shelby whined from the front of the plane.

"Shit!"

I scurried to the front of the plane, damn near tripping over the twisted LTM as I entered the cockpit. Shelby and Anni were still strapped into their seats. Shelby was pretty badly injured and at first glance, Anni thankfully looked alright, if she had been knocked out by the landing. Glass was embedded in her face, having busted through her helmet's visor and flight mask when the rockets had impacted the plane and a piece of steel scrap was stuck through her flight gear in her stomach. Her whole suit was soaked with blood.

"Uhh, Faline? Shelby's hurt bad. Issac, Anni' looks like she's out cold, can you come get her out the seat? I've got my hands full with Shelby."

"I got ya brother."

Faline and Wyatt rushed over. Faline ripped a pull cord on her vest, spilling out a medical kit. As they began working to patch Shelby's injuries, Blitz landed, dropping off Sarah, the only other survivor of the strike if I had to guess. Sarah rushed into the plane, running up and hugging me.

"Johnny!"

"Thank god I don't have to send a letter to your Daddy!" I laughed through tears of relief. For the record, Sarah's old man was the only other human being on the planet, well, besides Hudson, who actually made me concerned for my safety around him. He'd threatened to break my jaw if anything ever happened to Sarah when she signed on to crew Dropkick about two years ago, "You okay? You injured?"

"No...no I think I'm fine Johnny."

I was seconds from asking her if she knew if anyone else had been thrown from the plane. Issac interrupted me.

"John? Little brother?" Issac's voice shook with the words.

I released Sarah, turning to see him perched like a gargoyle on the center console of the plane, tears streaking down his face. I shook my head, looking for the will power to absorb what I knew was coming my way.

"Anni's gone."

I could not physically hold back my tears as I approached the co-pilot's seat. My 19 year old daughter had looked all right from the left side, but, the right told the horror story. She'd apparently taken the full force of one of those rockets that had struck the plane. It had peeled back the entire right side of her body, exposing much of her rib cage. Her lungs and heart were shredded, shrapnel was embedded in her helmet and her visor was shattered, the heat from the explosion having burned her eye out of that side of her skull. The sharp pain in my heart worsened when I realized that she had died holding onto Riley, a little stuffed mouse that she'd had since she was three years old. It came with her every time she was airborne, her little partner in crime, damn near everyone in OP-40 had one. She had a death grip on it, and it was the only part of her body that wasn't stained with blood and char. My jaw involuntarily clenched as I used every bit of my will power to reach down and unlatch the harness, only to find that the latch had been bent in place. Issac and I cut the straps and carefully pulled Anni's body out of the seat. Wyatt just happened to glance up from helping Shelby, his face going ghost white. He reached over and tugged on Hudson's pant leg. Hudson turned around, his FAL sliding out of his grip, seemingly beyond his control, caught only by its sling. He watched in a pale silence, bracing himself against the wall of the plane as I carried Anni out of the flaming wreckage of the gunship. The only thing on my vacant mind was...what I was going to tell my wife?

Tyson spread out a blanket he had tied to his vest as I lay my daughter on it, falling to my knees. I'd put holes in a lot of people, stabbed and blown up probably close to the same amount and lost good friends doing the only thing I knew how to do. I should never have let her follow me into this hell, I promised myself that I wouldn't let her make the same mistakes I did. Death rarely bothered me, and when it did...it was only for a couple of days. I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do here. I gently reached down and unstrapped my daughter's helmet, pulling it off her head slowly, just in case something might have severed her head from her body. I leaned in and closed my daughter's remaining eye, the ice blue overshadowed with the most horrific terror I'd ever seen frozen into someone's face. I kissed her forehead.

"Anni...I'm so sorry....I did this."

Blitz came to sit next to me, putting one leg around my shoulder and pulling me into this awkward sort of hug. Best he could do given the way his body was designed I guessed. I couldn't keep up the hardened combat veteran ruse any more. I exploded into a weeping mess, crying harder than I ever had in my fifty four years. My entire body was fucking weak, to the point Blitz had to hold me tightly to him to keep me from collapsing completely. Ballistic nylon covered in dirt, dragon sweat and diesel ash wasn't the most comfortable thing in the world to cry into. Wasn't like I cared.

"Talon 1-1 to base." Taro said into the radio, keeping the line open so I could hear, "Allied gunship has been shot down. I repeat, allied AC-130 has been shot down. 12 of 14 crew members appear KIA, area is too hot to land at this time, is there any additional support in my area?"

"Rodger that Talon 1-1, we've got a couple of options staged at Luanda International, what kind of AA are we looking at?"

"Based on what we saw, some kind of MANPAD system. If I had to guess, stinger missiles or possibly Russian PILA. There were too many to clear out on foot, had to be a hundred at least, we'll need some kind of close air support."

"I can instruct our C17 to drop off Firedrake two miles from your location, he should be on site in fifteen to twenty minutes. Once he's on the ground, I can have two F22's tasked from Luanda to provide CAS. Until then, you kids keep those scaled asses on the ground. Let me know if and when the situation changes."

"Rodger that sir, Talon 1-1 out."

I looked up at Taro, wiping my eyes so I could actually see him. There were some things that went unspoken.

"For what it's worth John...I'm sorry."

While I was made utterly useless to my team, they began to search for the remaining members of the team. Out of the hazy blue, Sugar Weasel opened fire with their main cannon, making everyone, human and dragon alike, jump in fear, flipping around to see probably twenty T80 tanks painted hazy tan coming over the hill. How the hell had we not heard them approaching!?

"John! We got T80's coming over the hill! Dozens and dozens of enemy infantry men in pursuit!"

Tyson hissed, "Fuckin' worms can't even let us collect our slain sisters! Goddamn it I'm fixin to start stacking bodies!!"

"I'm right fuckin' with you brother!" Faline said.

"I'm finna turn armor into shrapnel!" Blitz hissed, flaring out his wings as I picked up my SAW, my heart racing with a mixture of feelings I didn't really have the vocabulary to describe.

"Blitz don't you fu..."

Before Taro could even finish his sentence, Blitz was a thousand feet up.

"Bagh! Blitz you're gonna get fucking killed! Tyson, you stay on the ground with John, I'm going after Blitz!"

Taro shot off into the sky, Tyson turned to look at me.

"Where do you need me John?" He asked.

"Anywhere you can shoot whoever these slimy fuckers are!" I told him, "Put that Mk19 to work."

Faline and Wyatt dragged Shelby further into the wreck. Hudson, Issac and I started setting up defensive positions while Sarah picked up Shelby's P90 and looted the smashed plane for all the packed P90 mags she could, but it seemed like many of them had melted in the heat of the wreck. Sugar Weasel started to get the what for from the T80's, and promptly began to pull back. That was when I heard it.

That fucking blood curdling scream that made my blood run ice cold, no matter how many times I heard it. Someone shouted something in Russian, made my blood run even colder. Blitz came down, firing a plasma bolt that ripped through the T80's armor plating. The shockwave when the tank's ammunition detonated put out a couple of the fires burning in the plane. That one had been close, most likely trying to flank our Abrams. Making several of the tanks take their eyes off Sugar Weasel long enough for them to get a round in the can and touch it off. Now that they were close enough to engage, Russian infantry dressed in some kind of new grassland pattern I hadn't seen before started popping up out of the brush like moles and promptly open fired.

"FUCKING RUSSIAN INFANTRY! HUNDRED YARDS! HUNDRED YARDS!" I shouted, opening fire with my SAW. The rest of my human teammates didn't hesitate to cut loose. However, our dragons seemed to get cold feet almost as soon as the words tumbled past my lips.

"Fucking Russians!?" Tyson yelped, jumping off the top of the plane to get away from something that had pretty clearly been fired at his head, "What the hell are they doing here!?"

"Who cares!?" Blitz asked coming back in for another go at the tanks, "We'll kill 'em all!"

"We can't engage the fucking Russian military Blitz!" Taro said, "Draco brass'll tack our hides to the wall!"

"Think I give a fuck what Draco does to me!? These apes are gonna fuckin' pay for what they did to Johnny's daughter! Stay the fuck out of my way Taro! Or you'll be a target too!"

Blitz came back in, Taro hot on his heels, but just not nearly quick enough to stop him from launching a plasma bolt that sent another shockwave across the battlefield. Sugar Weasel scored a good hit on a T80, stacking 'em deep and cheap while we just kept putting holes in Russians. Yet, they continued to inch closer and closer to the plane under a constant barrage of full auto fire. Sugar Weasel was getting fuckin' hammered by RPG fire in between direct hits from the enemy tanks. With Taro actively trying to ground Blitz, who knew how long our air support would last? During a full auto rampage that was beginning to make the barrel of my SAW glow, I saw the belt vanish into the side of my weapon. My machinegun fell silent as I popped the top cover, reaching into my vest when I saw a Russian dude run past the window with a Sagia 12 in his hand, he rounded the corner and pointed it right at Faline's head. I had barely gotten my 1911 out of its holster when Tyson appeared out of nowhere and body checked the guy, impaling him on the frame of the plane.

"Thanks!" Faline gasped, "I owe you one!"

"Tyse! Fuckin burn these cunts out this goddamn grass!" Wyatt yelled, dropping the magazine from his M14.

"Good idea!" Tyson agreed, firing a burst from his SAW as I picked mine back up, "Sugar Weasel! Mind if I top ya for a moment?"

"Nah fam we like it rough!" Weasel's commander answered.

Tyson jumped on top of our tank, which was now running noticeably rough. He fired a burst from his Mk-19 that made a couple Russian's go up in a pink mist, took a deep breath, and then unleashed a hellstrom of blue fire that caught the dry grass, and the people hiding in it, instantly. Screams of terror filled the morning air as the fire roasted the Russians out of hiding, flushing them into the line of fire of Tyson's SAW. He stayed on the top of Sugar Weasel as the driver managed to force the tank into gear.

"Where the fuck are they all coming from!?" Sugar Weasel's commander asked, "John, I'm fuckin' runnin' low on ammo! T80's are beating the shit out of us!"

"Where the fuck is Hendricks!?" Hudson shouted, sticking a fresh magazine into his FAL.

I hit my radio.

"Hendricks! This is John! My gunship's been shot down, we've been ambushed by the Russian military and are outnumbered 20 to one! I need you to send a couple of those T80's my way!"

There was no answer.

"HENDRICKS! I NEED HELP!"

Still no answer.

"We're on our own!"

"Russian's probably got him too!" Hudson barked, "Hopefully at least some of 'em got away!"

"First man that ever treated me like I wasn't a waste of my own life!" Tyson hissed under his breath, he was standing right behind me on the other side of the wall, I dunno if he wanted me to hear him or not, "And you fuckin' kill his daughter. This won't FUCKING stand!"

I heard Blitz shriek again as Tyson pushed through his own flames, spraying more at whatever looked like it would catch a decent spark. I could see about a million Russians and more T80's than I could count coming over those hills and now I could pick out DRC among them. Where on God's earth had they all fuckin' come from? Had they been staged here and we just hadn't realized? I couldn't fathom how Dropkick couldn't see these people on thermal!

"Mayday mayday!" I hit my Radio, "Commander Mason to Sealegs! Isabella do you read!?"

Static.

"Mayday mayday!" I hit my Radio, "Commander Mason to Sealegs! Isabella do you read!?"

More static, they were fuckin' jamming our coms.

"They got us jammed! We can't hold this position!"

"Where we gonna go!?" Issac asked.

"Anywhere but here sounds good!" Faline said, ducking under an RPG, it flew only a couple feet over her head, she retaliated with a burst from her twin fifties, "John! Enemy infantry on our five six and seven! They're tryin' to box us in!"

"Blitz! Taro!" Hudson said into the radio, "We need you to bust up the enemy infantry on our five and six! We need an escape route! Can't hold this position!"

"Copy that Hudson!" Taro answered, "We're coming around!"

While this was going on, I was struggling to change the barrel on M249, as I had gotten it so hot I had shot out the rifling and my groups had opened up to the size of an over inflated party balloon. I was struggling to get a good enough hold on the quick change lever to pull the barrel out of the receiver, and I realized at that point that the heat glove I used was stained with blood, and I could see through it. A 5.45 had ripped through my fuckin' hand and I hadn't realized it. My hand started to burn as I set my SAW down.

"Fuck! I'm hit!"

Faline scurried over to me, "Where you hit!?"

"Uggh. Ripped one right through my left hand! Can't change the barrel on my SAW!"

Faline grabbed the quick change handle on my SAW and yanked it out, tossing it into the front of the plane. She grabbed the spare barrel off the back of my vest and clicked it into place, tapping the back of my helmet.

"Good to go!"

I picked my SAW, putting it back in the window, going back to putting holes in Russians. God, there was just, no fucking end to them!

"Where are they all coming from!?" Emelia yelped over the sound of her Dillon, "It's like the fuckers are spawning from the damn grass!"

"Sugar Weasel to Twitch!" the commander sounded panicked as the touched off a round, "That was the last round for the big gun!"

I stood up, keeping my SAW in my shoulder by balancing it on my forearm. I'd never been great at shooting right handed, but I couldn't move my left at all. It would have to do.

"Time to run!"

"Where the fuck to!?" Hudson asked changing the magazine in his fall.

"Back to Lucapa Airport! If we take it and hold it we have a chance! Dragons! I need you to start the biggest brush fire you can! We need cover!"

"On it!" Tyson shouted.

As we backed out of the fuselage. Sugar Weasel did us one better. He turned his tank around, keeping the turret pointed down range as the commander stayed on the fifty cal and Mk-19, the driver turned around and brought the tank right up to the wreck.

"Jump on!"

We went to go jump on the tank, as I was helping Shelby climb up, my gaze shifted towards my daughter's body lying on Tyson's blanket.

"Wait! Anni!"

"John leave her! We can't stay!" Hudson pleaded.

"I'm not fuckin' leavin' my daughter here!"

I jumped off the tank, leaving my 249 behind. Blitz came screaming down from the sky, putting himself between me and a barrage of hostile fire. I picked Anni up as gently as I could, making sure she didn't lose her mouse and jumped back on the tank.

"Get going! That's everyone!" the tank commander shouted as Blitz took off again, Taro taking his place on the ground, seemed like he'd taken enough hits that he'd lost air lift, his wings looked like swiss cheese. He began engaging the T80's with his 20mm, and, thankfully for us, it seemed like his ammo could penetrate their armor, sure did put on one hell of a light show.

"Bah! I can fuckin' shoot through their armor!" Taro yelled.

"How many bullets you got?" Hudson asked.

"Not enough for all of them!"

"Where the hell is Firedrake with that 105!?" Emelia yelped.

Taro hit his radio, "Firedrake! Brother where you at! Sugar Weasel's out of ammo and we've got the Soviet's entire inventory of T80's on our ass!"

"They just dropped me off!" Firedrake answered from the other end of the radio, "F22's were dispatched about 10 minutes ago! Should be here in less than that!"

"How far out are you!?"

"Maybe five minutes!"

"I hope you brought a lot of ammo!"

"Plenty!"

"Firedrake will be here in two minutes!" Taro shouted.

"What about the planes!?" Hudson asked.

"Ten tops! Probably less! If we haul enough ass we can have cover by the time they show!"

Sugar Weasel drove as fast as he could without shaking us off the front of the tank. As soon as we came up to the airport, we were greeted by a few of Hendrick's men and several of his T62's. The Turbo tank that Hudson and I had helped build seemed to be back in action. I'd never been so happy to be looking at the front of Russian tanks in my life. They met us down the runway, shouting in Portuguese to a couple of their comrades, who took off running towards their MI-24. As we jumped off the tank, Hendricks came running out in full combat gear.

"MASON!" He shouted, "What is happening!? We heard the gunfire, saw the rockets! We could not contact you!"

"Russian and DRC troops ambushed us Hendricks!" I shouted, "Dozens of 'em! I've got casualties and I need every tank you have! Sugar Weasel can't fight any more!"

"What of your gunship!?" Hendricks asked.

"Little more than a pile of flaming scrap! We need help brother!"

"You will have it!" Hendricks turned and yelling to his men, "The Communists come my brothers! We must help our friends!"

Hendrick's men rallied their forces right as the Russian's and the DRC arrived at the airport. The area degenerated into open warfare with almost no fuckin' cover within seconds of the first Russian coming over the hill at the end of the runway. The enemy T80's initially focused on Sugar Weasel, but shifted their focus to all of Hendrick's T62's when they realized our Weasel was out of fight. Thankfully though, an M1 Abrams is still great cover against T80's, and made for one hell of a heavy weapons emplacement. Taro and Tyson were taking pot shots at the enemy tanks, putting on one hell of a light show, while Blitz was sneaking around behind the lines, firing bolts of plasma at the T80's. They were giving good cover for Hendricks' inferior but more numerous T62's to return fire. Meanwhile, those of us who weren't anti-tank capable just kept putting holes in Russians. Now that Hendricks' Mi-24 was airborne, there was a copious amount of shouting in Portuguese as Hendricks directed his men to attack the onslaught of soviet tanks. While all this was happening, we heard Firedrake come over the raido.

"Hope ya'll saved me some tin cans!"

"Oh now you show up!" Emelia scoffed as Firedrake low crawled to our line, "We've been stackin' 'em cheap and deep all fuckin' day!"

"Well! How's 'bout you let me do sum' the heavy liftin'?"

Firedrake popped out from behind cover, letting his 105 ring, nailing an enemy tank right in the frontal armor. As he ducked back under over to reload, I heard the distinct sound of planes closing in, from both directions.

"Fuckin' what now!?" I squeaked as I turned to my six, expecting to see MIGS, instead, I just saw two black dots getting bigger by the second. Turning the other direction, that's where the MIGS were, and they were a lot closer.

"Raven 1-1, Talon 1-1 this is Warlord." A man whose voice I hadn't heard before said, "I've uh, I've got Tiger One-One, flight of two F22 raptors approaching your location. Stand by for relay over."

"Raven 1-1 Talon 1-1 this is Tiger 1-1." A younger sounding man said, "We're in bound at one five mikes from the West. Holding pattern sierra three whiskey holding pattern Zulu. Carrying four JDAM's each. What work you need done over?"

"Tiger 1-1 this is Raven 1-1!" I called, "priority targets are a pair of incoming Foxbats! Secondary targets are all T80 tanks and infantry soldiers south of the Lucapa International runway, 2869596. Everything behind that vector is regional military and friendly forces how copy?"

"Raven 1-1 Tiger 1-1. I'll take care of enemy air power first, standby for weapons. ETA 50 seconds."

"Fifty seconds!" Hudson shouted over the chaos.

All friendly forces began to pull back. As Sugar Weasel began to retreat, a T80 finally scored that fatal hit and my Weasel threw her left track.

"FUCK! LOST A TRACK!"

I stopped my retreat, slinging my SAW and running towards Sugar Weasel as the Foxbats surveyed their hunting grounds, looking for something to eat. I was pretty sure a fat Sugar Weasel was a tempting snack. The hatch flung open, and the commander came out. Right behind him was Weasel's gunner, then coms officer, followed by the loader and co-driver.

"Where's the driver!?"

"John! I can't move! Just go!" He called from inside the tank

I turned to the commander, "GO! GET AWAY!"

The rest of Weasel's crew took off running with the rest of my forces. I dumped my SAW and armor, wiggling down inside the tank, finding my driver's seat belt was holding him hostage.

"Shit bent when we threw the track." He squeaked, "Just leave me John!"

I reached down and cut the seatbelt with my pocket knife, "I lost 15 men today! That's enough for me!"

I climbed out of the tank, staying on top of the turret as he climbed out and ran. I reached into my body armor, still laying on the front of the tank, grabbed a WP grenade, pulled the pin and threw it into the cabin, slamming the hatch shut. They certainly weren't going to parade my Weasel around like some trophy. I surveyed the area to make sure no one else was still near the tanks and jumped down, grabbing Anni's body and ran for my life as the Foxbats let their missiles go. Blitz was coming down from the sky right at me with his arms out to grab me. I could hear the missiles the MIG's had fired at my tank closing in, faster than I could run. Blitz was inches from me, reaching out to grab me with an angry look on his face as everything suddenly went white.

???"Blitz" ??????

"Tiger 1-1 this is Raven 1-1!" John called frantically, "priority targets are a pair of incoming Foxbats! Secondary targets are all T80 tanks and infantry soldiers south of the Lucapa International runway, 2869596. Everything behind that vector is regional military and friendly forces how copy?"

"Raven 1-1 Tiger 1-1. I'll take care of enemy air power first, standby for weapons. ETA 50 seconds."

"Fifty seconds!" Hudson shouted over the chaos.

Everyone on the ground started to pull back, jumping onto the backs of their tanks and racing towards the north end of the runway as fast as they could. Taro and the others grabbed who they could and took off as well. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sugar Weasel take a direct hit to the left track.

"FUCK! LOST A TRACK!"

John took off running towards his disabled tank, shedding his SAW and body armor as he did. I skidded to a stop, rolling a couple of times as I did. I came to a stop, righted myself, shook the dirt out of my eyes and started back towards the tank when I felt two sets of teeth sink into my tail. I yelped involuntarily, thinking I may have been grabbed by attack dogs or something. I flipped my head around, seeing that Taro and Faline had both grabbed me.

"It's not worth it Blitz!" Taro said, his mouth full of my tail. Fucker had his teeth in deep, "He's a dead man!"

"Maybe not to you!" I howled, spitting a plasma bolt into both their faces.

Both Faline and Taro recoiled in surprise as I took off again, ignoring the pain in my tail. I could see John hauling his men out of the tank, disappearing inside himself. He was gone only for a few seconds before reemerging, sending his man away and tossing a grenade of some kind down into his tank. He slammed the hatch closed and slid off, picking up his daughter's body as the Russian planes let their missiles off the rails.

"No!" I pleaded in my head as I put every ounce of power I had left into my wings to try and close the distance, "NO! NO NO NO NO NO NO!"

I reached out, inches away from being able to grab my best friend when the missiles impacted Sugar Weasel. The shockwave threw me to my back like a rag doll and the area filled with white phosphors smoke. My vest, which was supposedly fireproof according to Draco brass, went up in flames instantly, searing the scales from my hide underneath. I squirmed against the fire involuntarily as I fought to stop panicking long enough to hit the quick release on my gear so the melting nylon would stop turning my organs to soup. My nose and throat filled with snot and puss as each spasm of my muscles forced me to draw in more air, in turn sucking in more of the burning smoke, melting my fuckin' body from the inside out. I did finally manage to get my vest off, but by now everything was raw enough that the WP continued it's assault against me anyway. Once I was on my feet, I tried to cover the burns on my sides with my wings, only to find that the membrane was mostly gone. It was hard to see through eyes flooded with tears trying to flush out bits of burning metal, but I did finally locate John. He was just laying there, screaming...and burning. It looked like the blast had taken one of his legs off, possibly both. His daughter's body was no where to be found. Fighting against the urge to turn and run, I managed to get over to him. By now, his fatigues had burned off him and his body was a mess of little black pits from where he'd been hit from the WP, everything else was a result of his fatigues catching fire. His eyes were blood shot, filled with fear as he saw me wander through the smoke, almost collapsing as I tried to pick him up. I'm sure I looked the sight, blood and body fluids dripped out of my face when I bent down to pick him up.

"Just leave me Blitz.." John choked.

"Don't...don't fuckin' think so." I said, struggling to speak from how full of shit my lungs and throat were, "We both leave....or neither of us do."

I scooped him up. Holding him tight against my belly, willing to sacrifice whatever was left of my wings if it met he could live through this. I turned, starting back out of the smoke. My hearing was going fairly rapidly as my ear flaps started to melt into the ear canal, but I could hear Faline and Taro arguing, though I couldn't make out what they were saying. I slugged through the smoke, as the edge started to come into view, my left leg snapped, making a sound like thick sticks do when they break, bending 90 degrees the wrong way. I wasn't sure if I'd been shot, or the bone had failed due to the smoke, but it had bent towards my back legs. I tried to howl as I collapsed, I couldn't. I couldn't draw in enough air to get the noise out. I thought maybe I could push myself out with my rear legs, but given the fact that John was underneath me, dragging that far would probably kill him. So...I figured this was where I died. I did my best to roll onto my left side, protecting John with as much of my body as I could, but the longer we stayed in this smoke, the less I had to work with. As my vision darkened, and I figured my eyes were starting to melt out of my face, Tyson appeared in front of me, wearing a gas mask.

"Not today Blitz!" He hollered, voice muffled by the mask, "Not fuckin' today!"

He lifted me and John to his back, and ran out of the smoke. The fresh air hit me like a bucket of ice water, didn't make it any easier to breath, but at least the burning began to subside.

"You goddamn stupid fucking kid!" Hudson screamed as he hauled me off of Tyson's shoulders, laying me on a blanket, someone put John next to me. As the two of us were surrounded by medical personnel, John's turned his head to look at me, his eyes seemed to be the only thing the fire's hadn't touched. I could hear Hudson shouting at Taro in the back ground as the jets battled it out overhead.

My vision was darkening, right before I passed out, John managed to reach out and deposit something in my paw.

A little, burned, stuffed mouse.