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Whispers among Operation 40 members say that there is more to Project Draco Research than what's on the surface. Whispers of dragons mysteriously falling ill, being abused and killed for seemingly no reason have permeated the squads that regularly serve with them. Some have even reported their friends saying something wasn't right before dying suddenly. Certain actors within the company are working to confirm these rumors.

Angel "Blitz" Crane

Wednesday, June 26th 1991

Operation Forty Headquarters

24 hours until Iraq departure

You ever get those thoughts in the back of your head that just kind of gnaw at you no matter what you do? I thought long and hard about the conversations I'd been having the past week, coming to realize that I actually knew fuck all about what really went on around me. The doubt lingered on if any of it was even real, honestly. I ended up spending a decent amount of time wonder what exactly would happen now, even though everything just kind of blended together in my head. I didn't really have any solid thoughts on the matter, I guessed I was just too exhausted to really think straight. I intended to do nothing but rest until we went to Iraq, and for two of those days, I did just that, with nothing notable happening those days. Wednesday morning, with one day to go before our Iraq departure, I woke up rather stiff, with the sun coming in through the hangar bay windows and settling directly on my face. An uncontrolled yawn escaped my teeth, and looking around after taking a second for my eyes to adjust to the ungodly bright sun that was coming in through the hangar windows, seemed everyone was still asleep. Taro was on his back, Firedrake was sprawled out, Tyson seemed to have worked himself into a knot and Faline was on her side, facing the back of the hangar. I yawned again, standing up, half expecting my back to start glowing with how loudly something cracked.

"Damn." I muttered, "I'm fuckin' fifteen, what the hell?"

Of course, it briefly crossed my mind that maybe I was way more injured than maybe I realized, and maybe the same shit that happened to my leg happened elsewhere. This was about the time I noticed that my entire body felt like slime, the glove keeping my bandages on was no longer tightly fitting and dry. Instead, it was soaked in some kind of body fluid, which peaking under, has turned the bandages some kind of color that was yellowish brown red. Deciding it would probably be a good idea to get this shit taken care of, I slipped out of the hanger into a rather sticky Texas morning. Given it was Monday, the base was rather busy. New recruits were being run around, vehicles were coming and going, every hangar door was open, on and on. I retraced my steps from last night on my way to the vets, getting surprisingly few looks other than a head nod and a polite morning from John's men. Seemed like these men had grown used to the idea of us dragons over the past week. Stepping into the vet's office, it was surprisingly empty save for someone signing their working dog covered in bandages out. Made sense I guess. The solider clicked his tongue at his dog, and the pair left Mary's office. I slipped in behind them, Mary looking up from whatever it was she was doing when she saw me approach.

"Good morning Blitz, is something the matter?" she asked.

"Yeah, these bandages and body glove are soaked in something, pretty sure it's not sweat. Also, my spine made a really loud cracking noise this morning, like...really loud."

Mary stood up from behind her desk, coming around to have a look. She gently pulled the sleeve away from my neck, shaking her head.

"Yeah. I kind of expected that to happen. Let's get you cleaned up."

Mary lead me back to the same room as last night, having me stand in the same basin as she stripped off the body glove, which let out quite the smell when it slopped to the ground, soaked in whatever that been leaking out of my injuries all night. Wasn't quite the smell of death, compared to the hole we'd pulled Frank out of in Angola, this smelled like a summer rose, but still, it was pretty bad. Mary stuck her head out the door.

"Peter, can you bring me a medical waste bag please?"

I heard a man from down the hall, "Yes mam."

Mary turned on a vent fan, then came back to my side.

"Are you in much pain Blitz?" she asked beginning to carefully peel off the bandages.

"Lil' bit sore, but other than that, not really."

"Does seem like your scales are already beginning to regrow, I want you to take things easy until you leave here, because you can't take any of these gloves with you. We can't have the Draco brass knowing anything about what's going on here because."

I cut her off, "Because there'll be a war to rival all wars breaking out on this ranch. Yeah, I know."

"I take it Mako gave you his spiel?" she asked.

"No, but he implied it, I met Sozenn last night, guess he wanted to brag."

Mary shook her head and sighed, "Mako and his big mouth are gonna get all of Project Draco at our door step."

I shook my head, "Nah, he strikes me as the type who can tell what he can and can't say depending on present company. Draco wouldn't be able to torture information about anything here out of me."

Mary warmed up the water, gave me a rinse and was working on applying that medicated soap when her assistant walked back in.

"Boss, you move the big waste bags? They're not where they're usually at."

"They should be on the top shelf in the third closet, they've been there since time in memoriam." Mary said looking up.

Peter shook his head, "They're not there, shelf's bare."

Mary set down the sponge, "Did you check the other closet?"

She and Peter left the room, their voices fading as they entered whatever room they were searching for the bags in. Suddenly overcome by extreme boredom, I took notice of a TV in the upper right hand corner of the room. Looking around, there was a remote on a counter directly adjacent to me. I reached over with my wing, expertly scooping up the remote with the membrane and, after some fine gymnastics, if I do say so myself, deposited the remote in front of the basin. Clicking on the TV, it opened to some commercial for laundry detergent. Commercials continued to play for a minute or two before it cut back to Fox news, reporting on what was going on in the African Civil War. The anchors were discussing recent fighting in Lucapa, which had my ears perked. They cut to a split screen of a reporter on the ground in Angola, where I recognized the uniforms of Hendrick's men in the back ground, though I didn't recognize where exactly they were.

"Rebeca, what exactly is going on down there?" the anchor asked.

"Well John the situation here in Africa continues to escalate. Democratic Republic of the Congo forces backed by Soviet troops had continued to push regional forces back. Local militia leaders say that the DRC has been emboldened by the defeat of a US private military contractor in the area known as Operation 40 Solutions, who had been assisting regional military in holding the front lines. Although Operation 40 couldn't currently be reached for comment on the situation, the DRC claims that they inflicted heavy losses, resulting in the withdrawal of O4S after a prolonged firefight lead to the destruction of a fixed wing gunship. The DRC has since taken the area that O4S was holding and is pushing ever closer to the Angolan capital city of Luanda. Local forces have promised to crush all Soviet and DRC incursions into their country, and only time will tell if they succeed. Back to you."

"That's just insulting!" I hissed. Mary picked that exact moment to walk back into the room, she seemed shocked at my behavior.

"Everything okay Blitz?" she asked.

"No. Not in the slightest! We spent almost a month holding down the front line in that dusty shithole, John lost his life and I almost lost mine, and the soviets took it in eleven days! Nothing about this is okay!"

Mary sighed, "Oh honey..."

At that moment, I was torn between wanting to sob over the fact that John, and all his men who had died with him, had gone for nothing, and wanting to spit a fireball at something over how angry I was that I was probably going to be permanently disfigured on most of my body, also for nothing. Mary got back to work. She got me cleaned up and then hung me from the ceiling in this strange sort of suspension harness so she could take the cast and splints off my leg. Thankfully the bone was setting the correct way, so after she cleaned the wound, re medicated and let the rest of my scales air for an hour or so, she slapped the splints and cast back on. After checking me over to make sure none there weren't any holes burned down to the bones that she had missed, she determined that whatever noise I heard was no different than cracking your knuckles, and to stop being a paranoid shit, she sent me on my way. Returning to the hangar, I found the others had since woken up. Taro and Firedrake were reading some comic, meanwhile Tyson was in the back doing pushups and Faline was busy inspecting the wreckage of the plane. Everyone seemed bored as fuck, still, it was better than getting blown up in Africa. Taro lifted his head from his comic, he was the first to notice me walk in.

"Blitz. Where the heck have you been all morning?"

"I was at the infirmary getting my burns cleaned. I woke up covered in some kind of slime, wasn't the most comfortable thing in the world." I explained going to lay down, "What are y'all reading?"

"Old superman comic." Taro said.

"What issue?"

"Four seventy four." Firedrake added.

"Damn...y'all are ahead of me. I need to catch up."

Taro tilted his head, "You a'ight bro?"

"No." I hissed, "I am very much not alright."

"Jesus." Tyson said from the back, "I didn't know you could get angry. What the hell is the matter?"

"No shit." Faline said, "I don't like angry Blitz."

"Oh, it's nothing really. Just that the Russians have already taken all the land we spent almost a month trying to hold, that I almost died for and so many of Hendricks men, John and his men did."

"Already!?" Taro yelped.

"Eleven...fuckin days!" I hissed, "That's what it took! Eleven days! And now here I am, only man that ever cared about me is dead, I'm probably going to be disfigured in pain for the rest of my life, and don't even have anything to show for it."

"Grahh." Tyson grunted, he and Faline rejoined us, "Fuckin' Russians."

"Where the fuck did they all come from?" Faline pondered, "Surely we should have smelled them."

"Maybe they were wearing some kind of scent block?" Taro suggested, "Like hunters do when they hunt ducks."

"Where would one get such a thing?" I asked, "Besides isn't that stuff just to make you smell like a duck so they don't freak out?"

"The hell you asking me for?" Taro asked.

"You're the one who suggested it."

"I'm just spitballin' man. It's been a long week."

"Pfft. You're telling me?" I agreed.

"Think it might have something to do with whatever shit Emelia was ranting about that one night?" Tyson asked, "What was it she was saying? Some bullshit about a demon that wouldn't leave her alone?"

If it wasn't for the conversations I'd been having recently, I wouldn't have given Emelia's ramblings a second thought. John said she'd complained since they met during Vietnam that there was some demon that had been harassing her. Personally, I always thought she suffered from some sort of PTSD, but now with Tyse bringing it up, I wondered if this demon might be responsible for what had happened in Africa.

"Demons aren't real." Taro insisted.

"Sure they are." Firedrake said.

"What proof do you have of this?" Taro asked.

"Sorry, were you not in Africa with the rest of us? Did you not see the warehouse piled full of rotten people that John pulled Frank out of?"

"No. I closed my eyes for that part. You know. Like a coward."

"That's pretty good evidence." Faline argued, "Still, tanks, dozens of infantrymen, those guys with the rocket launchers? Someone should have seen something. I don't buy that we were all so clueless that no one saw them. I mean...John and Hudson were picking snipers out of the grass from five hundred yards away. How did they miss it? All of it?"

Tyson looked at me, "You ever see anything when you were doing runs against the DRC tanks?"

I shook my head, "I never saw a damn thing...but, you'd think we'd smell the diesel or hear 'em moving...or something."

"Man, there's no way all of us plus a gunship missed that many Russians and tanks. There had to be something else going on." Taro suggested.

"Like what?" Firedrake asked.

Taro stuttered in frustration, "Man, fuck if I know! I just know we got the shit ambushed out of us by a shit ton of Russians that seemed to materialize from thin air with no explanation as to where the fuck they could of come from. We've found people hiding in the grass from six hundred yards from the smallest drops of sweat in their gloves. Tell me again that there wasn't something going on!"

Tyson sighed, coming to lay on his bed, "Man...even after everything that's happened these last five years, I still never thought I'd say this. I wanna fuckin' go home. I don't wanna play this game anymore."

Taro sighed, "Yeah...I agree. I miss my family."

"Me too." Firedrake said.

"God...I hadn't even thought about my parents..." Faline sighed, "What about you Blitz?"

I shrugged, "I don't have anything to miss."

My statement elicited a reaction of several titled heads.

"What'chu mean bro?" Firedrake asked.

I sighed deeply, "Real talk? I'd rather be here, in PDR, than anywhere else. I didn't exactly have the best life as a kid. My parents dumped me at an orphanage when I was little, wanted a daughter, not me. Ended up bouncing from orphanage to orphanage, and then from home to home, until eventually I ended up on the streets. Honestly? I think if Holland had taken two or three more days to track me down...I probably would have died in the drain pipe I was sleeping in."

Taro, Firedrake and Faline couldn't conceal the shock, Tyson tried his hardest to fake it, but I didn't find it very convincing.

"Jesus bro." Firedrake whispered, "I'm...sorry."

Taro clicked his tongue, "Shit man..."

Faline reached her wing over and put it over my back, "Is that part of the reason you keep to yourself?"

I nodded, "Yeah. Obviously I didn't know anyone, just kinda kept to myself because I was more than happy just to not have festering, weeping sores on my feet and back."

I nodded to myself, like you do when someone says something that you just vibe with on an existential level, "And I had all my teeth in my mouth, so that was nice."

Taro laughed, "Were you missin' 'em before?"

I nodded, "yeah."

"Why?" Firedrake asked.

"So I was digging through a dumpster behind a Burger King one night looking for something to eat right?" I began.

Taro interrupted, "Well your first mistake was leftover Burger King."

"True, but you don't have to interrupt my lies. So like I was saying, I was digging through this dumpster, it's a bad neighborhood, it's dark, it's spooky, but I'm hungry, so I continue. I did finally find something wrapped up in plastic in the bottom, like a burger and fries or something. As I'm climbing out, these gangsters roll up and start killing each other in the parking lot. Gets pretty intense, then suddenly the cops roll up, cap a couple of people, arrest who's left and roll out. I stay in the dumpster fighting the flies for a few minutes before I realize the coast is clear. As I'm hoping out, my foot hits some slime, I slipped. Dinner that night was the lip of the dumpster."

Taro cringed, "Ouchie."

I nodded, "Yeah. It sucked."

"Mind if I put something out there?" Tyson asked, "While we're getting' stuff off our chests?"

"What'cha got Tyse?" Taro asked.

"Gonna seem rich coming from me, I'm aware." Tyson began, "But we need to take better care of each other. John's not around to do that for us anymore, and now we're all we've got."

"Not that I don't agree...but what brought that up?" Firedrake asked.

Tyson sighed, "For the last...four or so days, I've been having this wicked nightmare on repeat...every night with no variation. And...it's scaring the shit outta me."

"What about?" Taro asked.

"Well...we were somewhere in the desert, dunno where. There were a couple of faces I didn't recognize in our party, some humans and a dragon that was bodied similar to a human. We were running from some military force in the back of a cargo truck, took a hit from a rocket or something, and, I got flung off our truck. I ended up getting hit by these guys and ended up impaled on an I-beam on the front of the truck, between it and the bridge. I couldn't talk, obviously I could barely breathe, and you guys didn't even check to see if I was alive...you just left me. Then they caught me, took care of me until I was better...then they tortured the sanity out of me. I...I murdered so many people, killed so many innocent dragons. Eventually, Taro tracked me down...and I almost killed him, the same human looking dragon from earlier cut my spine out of my back. That's usually when I wake up."

"I've heard about dreams like that, where people live a second life in a dream." I said, "But, I never thought it was real."

"Man...when I woke up this morning? I wasn't sure what was real. I sobbed for a good 20 minutes when I realized it was just a nightmare, then checked to see if I still had the scar on my chest where the I-Beam had gone through."

"Night Terror's more like it." Taro said, "I was wondering why you seemed so out of it this morning. Yeesh, do we all have PTSD or some shit?"

"Probably." I shrugged.

"Tyse?" Taro asked.

"Yeah?"

"Who made the call to leave you behind?"

Tyson didn't answer. Taro pressed further.

"Tyson, who made the call to leave you behind? Without even checking no less?"

Tyse breathed through his teeth, "You did. You just grabbed my tags, said I was obviously dead, and no one argued."

No one said anything for a minute. I finally decided to say something that had been on my mind for a while.

"You know, it occurs to me, everything lately has felt like some bad dream, just a rewrite of shit we'd already been through before at some different point in time. I get the feeling that...maybe Tyson's just the only one who was willing to admit it. I know he's not the only one that's felt a sort of way since John passed. Does anyone else feel like...things didn't play out the same way last time?"

"Does kinda feel like we've had this conversation before, yeah." Taro agreed, "I just...can't explain why."

Firedrake nodded, "I...I gotta agree with you bro, not sure why."

"Lemme throw some shit in there and be real with y'all." Faline said, "I'm fucking terrified of going to Iraq without John at the helm. We are not fuckin' ready to do this shit without him. I had a dream last night of us getting blown up by mortars."

"Probably because we did just spend a month doing just that." Tyson shrugged.

"Well...given everything that's happened in the past week." Taro began, "I think we need to make a promise to each other. Tyson's right, we're all we've got, we need to promise to stick together, no matter the cost. Going forward, we move as one, act as one, kill as one. Don't keep secrets, if something's bothering you, say so, because I'll be dammed if I'm going to allow one of you to get taken by terrorists."

"Sounds like a great idea to me." Firedrake said, "I can get behind that."

"I'm down." Faline agreed.

"If it keeps me out of an unmarked grave somewhere." Tyson said, "I can dig it."

"Yep. I agree. Although, I will say."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I didn't realize it 'till after I said it." Tyson cut me off, "But at that point I was already committed."

I snorted.

"Fuck off Blitz." Tyson said.

"Here? In front of everyone? Seems a bit inappropriate."

Taro started cackling, Faline snickered, "Way to ruin the moment Tyse."

"Yeah. Yeah. Yeah." Tyson shrugged.

There was a knock on the door, Hudson called from the other side, "Hey, what ya'll going on about in there?"

The door opened, Hudson was dressed in his BDU's, "Am I interrupting something?"

"We were discussing the meaning of life." Taro said.

"Forty two." Hudson said, "We got breakfast in my office. Y 'all hungry?"

"Depends what the options are." Taro said.

"Denny's. We got pancakes, eggs, sausage, bacon, the works."

"Sounds good to me." Taro said standing.

"I could go for breakfast."

We followed Hudson out of the hangar, I noticed that, near the motor pool, a shiny new M1A1 Abrams was being taken off the back of a huge semi. As the tank came off the back of the truck, I noticed it had "Sugar Weasel" painted on the barrel.

"Sugar Weasel already got a new tank?" I inquired.

"Part of an incoming shipment. The guys who crew Weasel are our best crew, and so we're just giving them a new tank."

"Aint like they don't deserve it." Tyson said, "They were stacking T models like Henry Ford. How many tanks did they kill?"

"Enough that they ran out of ammo." Taro said, "Didn't you hear the guy panicking? Last round for the big gun and all that?"

"I was busy putting holes in Russians." Tyson said, "To be fair I wasn't paying great attention to coms, more just aware in case you started issuing orders."

Hudson led us inside the hangar where he had his office. Issac and the others had set up a large buffet on several folding plastic tables with what easily was a thousand dollars or more of food, everything he had listed was accounted for, along with other things. There was more than enough for everyone to have their fill.

"Damn." Taro laughed, "Better than the slop they feed us in Draco. Do your guys eat this well?"

"We're not military Taro." Hudson chuckled, "the human body isn't met to eat MRE's 24/7, also unlike the Army, we hire actual cooks who use real ingredients."

"Can confirm." Issac said, "Our troops only eat MRE's in the field."

"Bro how can a group of pampered ass mercenaries that work nine to five with company provided lunch be so damn lethal on the battlefield?" Firedrake asked.

"You implying that we're fat?" Wyatt asked.

"The implications of the question exist as I've asked it."

The humans had to stack our plates for us, and once they were filled, we all sat down in the corner of the hangar and dug in. Far as cheap restaurant food goes? Meh, it certainly wasn't terrible, but it was free, which I can't argue with. We ended up spending a good hour or so scarfing pancakes and talking shit. At a point in the conversation, Hudson mentioned that the ranch had woods that were nestled out of the way, and that there was a concrete tank out there that the dragons used as a swimming pool. It wasn't like there was anything better to do since we were still waiting on the plane, so we all decided to go swimming. Well, turned out that concrete tank was quite big, and the other OP-40 dragons, whom apparently had Mondays off, were all there, seemingly with plans to make a day of it.

It was fairly clear upon rolling up that this was the only real place that the dragons had to themselves, evident in the scorch marks on all the trees, large boulders that had been piled up in direct sunlight, a dirt patch that was very clearly agitated, seemed that they often sparred there, and the tank itself was covered in claw and burn marks, seemingly just for the hell of it. Hudson's dragons, consisting of six females, one older male, and presumably Mako's other son Alcatraz, shot us looks when we turned up. Despite the fact that we'd never met, they seemed fairly displeased by our presence.

"Hmph." A blue dragoness scoffed, with a very, very thick Texas accent, "So y'all are the ones that got us under lock and key for the last fuckin' week."

Taro gritted his teeth, "Sorry?"

"Hope you don't intend to rat us out to PDR." The male said leaning over the side of the tank, "'Cause if you do, we're going to have issues."

"No one's ratting on anyone." I assured.

"No offense, but we don't trust Draco Dragons as far as we can throw 'em." The blue female said, the others looking on like they were ready to spring into action at a minute's notice, "It's not like everyone here survived execution attempts and had to dig our way out of our own fucking graves or anything. Oh! Wait a minute!"

A solid grey female with dark green eyes covered the ears of the little dragon, his mother my guess.

"Could you stop cursing 'round my kid? Please and thank you." The grey female snapped.

"Get down off your high horse Zan." The blue female said, "I've got every right to cuss out these draco fuckers."

"Not around my son you don't! Be angry at Wayne, not them! Go sit in the corner if you're not prepared to behave like a grown dragoness, please."

The blue dragoness muttered something about how this was bullshit and slunk off. The grey female sighed, nodded to herself and turned to us.

"Sorry, our CO's had us under lock and key since y'all showed up, and Hudson just now forced him to let us out, gets stuffy in a hangar after a while. You guys must be Talon squad?"

"That's us." Taro explained, "I'm Taro, this is Firedrake, Faline, Blitz and Tyson."

"Lots of chatter about you Blitz." Zan said, "I'm told you already met my mate."

"You're Mako's wife?" I asked.

She nodded, "Yep. He didn't say anything about me behind my back did he?"

"He had a lot to say." I chuckled.

"Like what?" She asked.

"You're not finna' rat a brother out to his wife is you?" Tyson asked.

I couldn't keep back a snort laugh, "I mean it's true, he did have a lot to say."

Zan was looking at me with a look like she was hoping she'd have an excuse to yell at him when he got back, "What did he say Blitz?"

"Mostly that you and your kids made all the hell he's been through in the past twenty one years worth it."

Zan's cheeks tinted slightly rose, she chuckled, "Hmph, yeah. Sounds like Mako."

"Did you say that was your kid?" Faline asked.

Zan nodded, "Mmhmm. One of two. The other one's in medical, and Doc won't let me near him because she doesn't want him spreading stomach flu to the rest of us. Driving me crazy."

"I didn't realize we could have kids." Faline said.

Zan shrugged, "We didn't either. We decided to try about two years ago, didn't expect to get anywhere, obviously we were both wrong. Eggs took about a year to hatch, now I have one who's quiet and reserved and another that is most likely going to kidnap princesses, do battle with knights and burn villages for unpaid tithes when he gets older."

Taro laughed, "Who's the one who's going to burn villages?"

"ME!" the little grey male shouted in the deepest voice he could manage, which wasn't much. He stood atop the rim of the swimming tank like he was hot shit, like this was the first time we were seeing the king of the dragons in some samurai movie from 1988...fuck what was the name of that movie?

"So what, you spend your time looting everyone's hoard do you?" I asked.

"All of the gold will be mine." The boy said enthusiastically, "my brother and I will have the biggest hoard of all dragons!"

I chuckled, "The only things that most dragons hoard is skeletons in our closets kiddo."

"Why would you collect bones? Is it to scare your enemies?" the little boy asked.

"Yeah, something like that." Taro agreed.

"I too will put my enemies on display. I will construct large monuments of their bones and tack their hides up for all to see what happens when I am crossed. All who survive will know and fear my terrible powers, and they will kneel before me."

"Do you see what I have to deal with?" Zan smiled, "this boy takes his roleplaying very seriously."

Firedrake lost it laughing.

"Oh I hope I don't have children like this." Faline sighed.

"I disagree." Taro said.

"So you want kids that loot and pillage?" Faline asked as the rest of the crew jumped into the tank.

"Absolutely." Taro said.

Putting the first front half of my body in the tank, the water was cool, a much welcome relief from the Texas sun. However, as soon as it hit my raw spots, it started to itch with a fury I'd never felt before, to the point I slipped in fully, and then struggled like a cat who didn't want to have a bath to get out. Finally out, I pulled the rip cord on the body glove, tossed it away and then shed the bandages, leaving everything open to the air and shaking the water off my body like a dog. The itch subsided somewhat, but still, the urge to scratch the burns using a nearby pine tree was almost beyond my ability to resist. It was at that point I remembered, I was rather sensitive to pool chlorine. There must have been a metric fuck ton of the shit in that tank. Would explain why the concrete inside was so clean and the water was crystal clear.

"Jesus Christ, the fuck is your problem?" one of the other girls asked.

"You okay bro?" Taro inquired.

"I am very much not okay!" I squeaked, "I just got a reminder that I don't mix with chlorine!"

"Oh shit you're right."

"There a hose around here somewhere?" I asked.

"Not that doesn't have tank water going through it. I'd go see Mary." Zan suggested.

"Yep. I'll be back in a bit."

I practically ran across the ranch and back to the vets. Mary wasn't there, but that Peter guy from earlier was. He got me hosed off, gave me a shot for the terrible itching, bandaged my burns and finished by supplying me with a new glove.

"You allergic to chlorine?" He asked as he was setting the rip cord on the glove, "Your scales were peeling like you were shedding. Dunno if you know, but dragons don't work that way."

"Sorta." I explained, "I was homeless until PDR, and I was never clean. Have a bunch of skin problems that seem to have somewhat carried over."

"That sucks." He said patting my back, "You're good. I put some petrol jelly on your raw spots, so you should be okay to swim if you feel like it. If you need anything else, come back."

"Thanks doc."

Exiting the clinic, back into the now midday heat, I tossed around the idea of seeing if Peter was truthful, or if he was in fact a disgusting liar. While contemplating my life choices, I noticed that one of the Sealegs planes was coming in...and coming in rather quickly. From the opposite end of the runway, I heard a rather loud vehicle. Glancing in the direction, a black muscle car was racing up the runway. In the middle of wondering what was going on, the door to the clinic swung open behind me.

"BLITZ GET THE FUCK OUT THE WAY!" Peter shouted pushing past me, a large grey ALICE pack with a medical symbol on it. The car slammed on the brakes, screaming to a stop next to me and the truck flew open as the driver released it. Peter threw the bag into the trunk, slammed it shut and jumped into the passenger seat. Before I could even look in to see who the driver was, the car was gone again, taking off, meeting Sealegs 2 as the now very visibly damaged C5 Galaxy touched down, sagging to one side as the left rear landing gear looked like it had been shot up. Smoke and fire was pouring from one of the engines as the plane struggled to stop, traversing almost the entirety of the runway before the front landing gear failed. The plane skidded on the nose, eventually coming to rest. I took off towards the plane, as did many others as two more of the engines went up in flames. Sirens filled the air as one of those airport firefighting trucks rolled out of a nearby hangar. Rolling up on the smoking plane, the hatch came down, and several bloody humans stepped out. Mako was behind them, and he looked like he had been shot to pieces. In the chaos, the humans saw to their own first, before Mary and her crew rushed into the plane, after Mako insisted that they take care of the other dragons first. Mako stepped to the side and sat down like he'd just gotten finished running a marathon, he seemed absolutely exhausted. Judging by the number of bloody welts on his head, his swollen shut left eye and several holes in his ears, someone had tried quite hard to end his life. Looking at the melted suppressors on his 20mm and SAW, seemed like he'd been far more successful at said task than they had. I'd never seen someone melt the can on a 20 before.

"Yo...what the fuck happened?" I inquired, "You were barely gone a day!"

"The US Army happened." Mako sighed, slumping down to the ground, too exhausted to even sit upright, "I've never been in a firefight like that before..."

I stuttered, trying to find the words for the question I wanted to ask, "Did they know your fuckin' address or something?"

"Sure seems that way." Mako said, "fuckin...must have been three, four hundred troops and three dozen dragons. They just...came out of the goddamned walls. If it hadn't been or Hudson's hunch, we would have bought it in that fuckin' canyon. Killin' Russian's ain't the same as shooting at the stars and stripes."

"Hudson's hunch?" I asked.

He nodded, "Yeah...Hudson had the 155's at the base near by turn the opposite way...was a blood bath."

More response was now happening, including the arrival of a large, white cargo tuck with the medical snakes on it. Two dragons were brought out of the plane, both female. One I didn't recognize, the other? Well...as soon as the smell of her blood hit my nose, I knew who she was, and my heart sank. All the emotions I had felt during my last talk with John and Annie came flooding back. Not her. Anyone but her.

"GHOST!" I yelped turning to run to her. Before I had even taken a step, gravity seemed to become much stronger, and I found myself unable to move. It was then that I realized that Mako, despite being a bloody, exhausted mess, had somehow managed to pin me down, and was simply using his asinine body mass as a fastener to keep me from moving. One other dragon, a weird yellowish green male had also appeared from the pavement it seemed, ready to jump in. Damn, how come I was the only one who didn't know this trick?

"Blitz stop!" Mako pleaded, "She's barely alive! You knock her off that stretcher and she'll die for sure!"

As much as I wanted to protest, I watched, trying hard not to start balling all over again, as Ghost was loaded into the back of that medical truck and the doors were closed. Mary and peter jumped back into the car, following the truck across the ranch, past their office and out of sight.

"Where are they going?" I asked as Mako rolled off me, slumping back down.

"Across the ranch to the hospital, big white building on the other side of the woods. Hard to miss. Heh...I wouldn't mind help walking there if you could."

"I got'cha brother."

I helped Mako stand again as the rest of the dragons began wandering out of the woods to see what the commotion was about. Alcatraz, noticing his Dad, broke from the group in a dead sprint.

"Dad!" he shouted running up to us, jumping at Mako, was only able to rather weakly catch him.

"Hey buddy." He whispered, closing his good eye, seeming just to be relieved to see his son again. I'd bet that at one point, he was convinced he wouldn't. Now, the rest of my team showed up, Taro began surveying the plane, meanwhile Firedrake came over to me and Mako.

"Dude, you look like you just had an encounter with a high school bully with a hole puncher."

Mako sighed, "Yeah...feels about right."

"Hey Firedrake? He outweighs me by not an insignificant margin, you mind givin' me a hand?"

'Sure, where we going?" he asked.

"Hospital across the ranch. It'll be easier to cut through the woods since you've gotta carry my heavy ass."

"What do you clock in at bro?" Firedrake asked.

"2450 last I was on a scale." Mako said.

"I got you beat. I'm 3200. Let's get you up brother."

I helped Firedrake lift Mako to his back, his kid scurried up my back leg, making himself comfortable on my back as we started for the hospital. About halfway there, we were joined by Zan.

"You said you were gonna come back in one piece." She scolded.

"I am in one piece." Mako protested.

"Yeah? Where're your left eye?"

"It's in there." He assured, "A rock hit me."

She sighed, "Serves you right for doing stupid shit."

"But Mom, Dad has to save all the other dragons from the humans." Alcatraz protested.

She sighed, a slight smile covered her lips, "Yeah...yeah he does."

A short hike through the woods brought us out to an entirely different area of the ranch, where Hudson seemed to keep the two Galaxies, the gunship and his helicopters. Most of the area was tarmac, with bright orange and yellow posts marking the edges of the runways, with everything in between being filled with birds and bees from the looks of it. The hospital was at the far end of the acreage, and it took a good five minutes to walk across the fields to get there. Arriving at the front door, that big medical truck was parked under a covered area, seemingly plugged into the wall. Several armed soldiers and doctors came rushing out. Mako rolled off Firedrake's back, collapsing to the hot pavement with a grunt, prompting immediate reactions from his mate and son.

"I'm fine, I'm fine." He assured.

Mary came out to meet the group.

"Mako, besides your eye, are you injured in any way you know of?" She asked as Firedrake helped him stand, Mary pulled the cords on his vest and body glove. Besides smelling like day old roadkill under his gear, he didn't look like he had any holes in him.

"I don't think so...I'm just exhausted."

"Get this one into trauma and give him a once over. Make sure he doesn't have any internal bleeding or concealed head or brain damage." Mary ordered as several doctors wheeled out a motorized, well over built stretcher that at some point looked like it might have been a truck lift. With some help, Mako managed to lay down and then was taken inside. Zan and his son followed.

"Hey Firedrake?" I asked.

"Yeah?"

"You mind calling me when the plane comes to get us?"

Firedrake gave me a funny look, "Why for?"

"Ghost was on that plane...she's about to die."

Firedrake sighed, "I got ya man, do what you need to do."

Firedrake turned and left. I stepped inside the hospital, bigger than normal waiting room, for sure, but nothing special to see aside from the dragon beds in one corner. Directly to the right was a desk with a nurse staring intently at a computer.

'Scuse me." I said.

"Yes sir?" she asked.

"So, there was a black dragoness that came in on that plane, I would like..."

"Gonna stop you right there." The Nurse said, "we're not at liberty to discuss any of our..."

"I'll take it from here Tina." Mary said appearing from an adjacent hallway, "Blitz, if you want to see Ghost, she's in surgery, I'm going to have to sterilize you, from head to toe, and with your hide being the way it is, that scrub is going to be, by far, the worst thing you've felt all week. And yes, I include the actual fires in that."

"I'm fine with that." I assured.

"Okay, follow me."

Mary led me into what honestly looked like a gas chamber with a floor of bathroom tiles and a drain in the middle. She stripped off my glove and bandages, angled the shower heads that had some crusty green shit dripping out of them, smelling strangely of rubbing alcohol and mints and flipped a switch on the wall. The shower heads then began pelting me with a boiling, foul smelling liquid which did, in fact, feel worse than the fire did. Between the actual heat applied, and whatever antiseptic was in the shit, it kind of felt like someone taking sandpaper made of coarse broken glass and applying it to my skin and scales with a belt sander. Mary had this shop broom she was using, gently, mind you, to work up a lather on every part of my body, just as she'd threatened. Process was about ten minutes of scrubbing, after which my entire body felt like the raw spots on my sides. I was hosed off with cold water, dried with cool air under a bright UV lamp and then given new bandages, glove and this weird, roughly dragon shaped gown to cover my scales before being led to a viewing room adjacent to the OR, where several people who seemed to know exactly how dragons worked were performing surgery on Ghost. I recognized the voice of the lead surgeon as the same man who had had helped me get clean and physically strong enough to undergo the Draco procedure when I was first drafted. An older Nigerian man by the name of Ben, whom everyone in Draco always referred to as Old Ben. He had a way of addressing you very on the nose and straight forward, without being rude and he talked like he was some martial arts master from a thousand years ago, along with speaking normally, with a very thick accent. It was a strange quirk, but it made him loved among basically all us Draco Dragons. The fact that he was one hell of a doctor was second to all that.

"Old man Ben still doing no harm I see." I sighed, relieved that she was in good hands.

"You know him?" Mary asked.

I nodded, "Yeah. He's the one who looked after me when I was drafted. When did he defect?"

"Defect? He's retired from Draco, Hudson tracked him down and offered him the job. Fun fact, you have him to thank for patching you up after Africa, we brought you right here, and Ben pulled a 26 hour shift on your burned ass."

I chuckled, "Wouldn't be the first time. That man could fix a dragon's heart under machinegun fire."

"Yeah. He's teaching me and Peter a lot about how to work on ya'll. I'm needed elsewhere Blitz, there's almost always a guard out front, so if you need anything, let him know. You're welcome to stay and observe for long as you need. If anyone gives you shit, send 'em my way."

"Yes mam."

I lost track of the time shortly after Mary left, just watching the doctors dig bullet after bullet out of Ghost. Surgery must have lasted four or so hours, and by the time they were done, a pile of bloody bullets and shrapnel had been collected. It took another forty or fifty minutes for them to stitch all the holes closed and bandage her up. At which point, Ben stayed behind as the other doctors took her out of the room. Ben sighed as he took his mask off and took a deep breath. He turned to toss the mask in the pile of spent surgical equipment, taking notice of me as others came in to start cleaning up. Ben walked through a door in the OR that lead to a hallway that was adjacent to the viewing room, appearing from a door to my left I had been to focused on Ghost to see at all.

"How are you holding up?" he asked in his soft old voice.

"I'm doing okay." I said, "All things considered."

"My condolences for Johnathan's death." Ben said, "I know the two of you were close."

"You've been around a while...right?" I asked.

Ben smiled, "Quit calling me old boy."

"Does it get easier?"

Ben shrugged, stepping closer, reaching out to put a hand on my shoulder, "I wish I could tell you, honestly, it did. It doesn't."

I shifted my glance back to Ghost, laying seemingly lifeless on the operating table as a bunch of doctors unhooked all the wires and hoses, moving her from the OR to wherever they were taking her. I felt my heart skip a couple of beats. A whole bunch of feelings I couldn't use English to describe seemed to flood my soul.

"You know Angel." Ben began, using my human name, "I may be old, but my eyes still work. I see that she looks at you, and, I saw sometimes you looked back. She loves you. You know this. You love her, you also know this."

I sighed, "Yeah..I do."

"Then why have you said nothing these past four years? You always spend time with her, yet never tell her how you feel. It tortures her mind, hurts her soul, worse than any weapon or man could. Why do you do this?"

"I guess...I just don't know how to tell her how I feel."

"You know, when they bring her to me, the first thing she asks is if you are really here?"

"She did?" I inquired.

"I guess she heard you calling to her when they took her off the Galaxy. She'd lost a lot of blood, so I surmise that she thought she was having auditory hallucinations. Scary stuff. She'll be in room seven. You go there, you spend time with her until Draco picks you up, and you tell her you love her."

"I will. Thanks for patching me up Doc."

"Don't mention it. It's what I'm here for. You stay safe out there boy, no more playing with fire. Am I understood?"

"Will do Doc." I chuckled.

I had to find my own way out of the OR, and it took asking questions before I realized that no one was actually going to tell me how to find the room. Thankfully though, a dragon, or dragoness, for that matter, that's been in the field for a while, is easy enough to find via scent. As strange as it felt to have to follow my nose to try and find my crush...wow I sound like a stalker, I did eventually find room 7. Ghost was laying in the corner with her back to the wall, riddled with bruises, scratches, scrapes, cuts, burns, bullet holes, the works. She had an IV taped to her neck, and thankfully seemed to be breathing without any trouble. I couldn't help but notice that her eyes were bandaged, making me think she had caught shrapnel, possibly lost them. I was here, but, I wasn't sure what to do. She was pretty clearly out cold, so I just laid down on the floor, hoping that she would wake up soon.

Turned out, I wouldn't have to wait long.

She started stirring about ten or so minutes after I walked in. Just a few twitches at first, that gradually became movements that I would describe as movements that were supposed to make sure that you still had all your parts and pieces. Eventually, she picked her head off the pillow.

"Whose there?" she asked with some trouble.

I reached out and put my paw on the top of her's.

"I'm here Ghost."

"B..Blitz?" she asked, her voice cracking.

"Yeah. It's me Ghost. I'm here."

She took a couple of shallow breaths, then just started sobbing. In between the tears and the heaves, there were noises I think were supposed to be words, but given that she did just survive an execution, I was inclined to just hold her and let her sob. So...that's exactly what I did. I went to lay next to her, pulled her close and just let her cry into my neck, seemed like she needed it. I didn't pay attention to how long she did, nor did I care. When she seemed to have spent everything she had, she curled up tightly against me. No words for how that made me feel, but...it felt right. I put my wing over her.

"Blitz...where am I?" she asked after a moment.

"Operation 40's Texas Ranch." I said, "You're in the hospital right now, Old Ben cut the metal out already."

"Draco tried to kill me." She whispered.

"I know." I sighed, "Not the first time they've done it either."

"What do you mean?" Her voice quivered with the question.

"There's a bunch of other dragons here, Draco tried to kill them all."

"Did...did they try to kill you!?" She asked, her entire body stiffened like a board, seemingly forgetting that she was really, really badly fucked up.

I squeezed her tightly, feeling her relax under my grip, "No...no. No one tried to kill me. Well...actually I take that back. Lots of people have tried to kill me. Just this time I was being careless, so it's kind of my own fault."

"How so?" She asked.

"Well...I playing with some white phosphorus grenades...and set one off by mistake." Not the truth I know, but it sounds a whole lot better than the Russians tried to rotisserie my ass.

Her mood seemed to lighten, "Yeah...sounds like you."

"You're one to talk, miss negligent punt gun discharge."

"I...I don't wanna talk about that. That never happened." Ghost insisted, turning away from me.

"Oh yes it did."

"Nope. Dunno what you're talking about." She continued.

"You almost blasted away half the class."

"No such thing occurred."

"I caught the whole thing on my helmet cam."

"That's some fake news right there CNN." Ghost insisted.

I chuckled, was probably better to quit while I was ahead. I hugged her tighter.

"I...I have some bad news Ghost."

"What is it?" she asked.

"John's dead."

"What!?" she whispered through a gasp.

"He got killed in Africa, a Russian airstrike got one of his tanks, and he was closer to the initial strike than I was. I tried to get to him...I was too slow. If it hadn't been for Tyson...I'd be dead too."

Ghost's whole body shook, much the same way mine had when I had my last conversation with him. She started sobbing again. I couldn't blame her. I was just thankful she had me to cry to, I couldn't have joined her if I wanted, I didn't have any tears left. Made me realize just how hard I'd been leaning on my friends this whole week, just fuckin' ready for it to be over.

After she had calmed down, I leaned in and licked the bridge of her snout, "its okay...I'm here. I'm sorry I never paid the best attention to you. I promise, that will change...because..."

"Because what?' She asked, stiffening again, waiting for my answer.

"Because I love you Ghost."

"Do you have...any idea how long I've waited to hear those words come out your mouth?" She asked with a smile and a sigh of relief, though given how chopped up her face was, it wasn't much.

I chuckled, "Ben told me. I know you've wanted me to say it before...sorry it took so long, I never knew how to tell you."

"Yeah you did. You were just too chicken to do it. Kiss me Blitz."

I chuckled, "I'd love to. But...how would that even work?"

With some difficulty, Ghost managed to roll onto her left side, so that we were facing.

"Works like this."

She reached out, grabbed the back of my head and pulled me in. As cliché as I'm sure it is to go "oh first kiss it was the best thing ever", well. Kinda was. Just think back to the first time you kissed the one you love, you know what it feels like. Did I want it to end? Not really. When she finally let me go, I only wished I could see what her eyes looked like, but you know, they were swollen shut and bandaged.

"Wish I could see the look on your face." She giggled, "But you know, eyes are fucked up."

"You've still got 'em right?" I asked.

"Yeah. They're in there, just hope I don't end up going blind."

"Nah. Not with Ben being here."

She and I lay there for another hour so. Not much was said, but not much more needed to be. About nine at night, there was a knock on the door. Upon answering the door, it was Firedrake.

"Plane here?" I asked.

"Thirty mikes." He said, "Take care of whatever it is you're doing."

"I'll be by soon."

Firedrake leaned over, "Hey Ghost."

"Hey Firedrake."

"You doing okay?" he asked.

"Yeah. Only hurts when I breathe, better now though since Blitz has been here."

"Good to hear."

"Make sure ya'll tread lightly. I dunno what I even did to piss Draco off."

"Yeah, Hudson explained to us what happened. We'll be careful."

Firedrake turned to leave. I went back to Ghost.

"Guess it's goodbye...for now, at least."

"Can you promise me something Blitz?" Ghost asked.

"Yes. What is it?"

"Find a way out. Out of Draco. We can find a place, away from all of this...start a family."

"I will." I assured, "I'll come back as soon as I can, but it may take time though."

"I'm fine with that. Just...promise me you come back alive...okay?"

"I promise."

We kissed one more time, said our goodbyes and I went back to the barracks. Wasn't like there was much to pack up, so everyone was pretty much ready to go. I left the body glove on the bed, and followed the others out to the runway as the C130 with a US Airforce plastered on the side touched down with a thud, circling around and coming to a stop near the hangar.

"Here we go again." I sighed to myself as we boarded the plane.

Rounding the back of the aircraft, there were just shy of three dozen soldiers in the back, some Army, some Marines. Didn't seem like they had had ever deployed with dragons before, and so the look on their faces was a mixture of fear and on several, quite possibly concern that the blunt they smoked a couple hours ago might have been laced with something. There were a few whispers and awkward stares as we wandered to the back, or front, mind you, of the plane looking for some place to sit. I heard Faline shout something at Taro, but I was worrying about my problems and didn't catch it. When I finally found a place to sit, they were already closing up the plane. For some reason, that hatch clicking shut cemented my decision. Come hell or high water, I had to get out of Draco soon as I could. If I could get the others out with me, I would.

I heard one of the guys in the plane say something, I picked up my head, finding Taro and some black guy engaged in a conversation.

"What's up bro?" Taro asked.

"Iraq." The man said, "Heard it's lovely this time of year."