2: Beneath Orion, Worlds Apart 04

Present Day

Up in the cold mountains, Lieutenant Clint Wayne and Airman Luke Patton kept their guard with each step, walking up against the rock formation, staring down the sight of their rifles. It was still night. Each deliberate footfall was made patiently and as silently as possible, trying to avoid the few thin patches of crunchy snow on the ground; the last thing they wanted to do was make any unnecessary noises or leave behind tracks. Minimal lighting and the threat of sharp drop-offs on the other side of the rocks also contributed to their cautious movement.

The rock formations up ahead blended into the mountain, opening up into a large, flat clearing. Wayne and Patton held up, bending down by the rocks to discuss their situation.

"I don't like this, Lieutenant," Patton whispered. "If anything goes wrong, we're shooting ducks out there."

Wayne nodded in agreement. "Operation Burning Rain my ass. This is more like Operation Burning Hemorrhoid. First we get shot down, and now we get to stick our ass in the open just to get it shot off while we try to find radio reception."

"Lieutenant, stay here and cover me; I'll low crawl out into the open. I should be able to get a good radio call off to Watcher. This is our best location."

Wayne looked around. "Give me the radio, Luke," he whispered.

"But sir," Luke started.

"Hey, man, I didn't stutter. I'm the highest ranking, so I'll put my ass on the line. Just cover me in case someone spots me. It's wide open out there; anyone could be hiding up in those mountains, and I'll be in full view."

Reluctantly, Luke handed over his radio. "Just don't be stupid, LT. Go slowly, stay low, and keep your eyes open. I'll watch your back."

"Take these," Wayne said, pulling off his NVGs and giving them to Luke. "The lighting isn't the same as you're used to since they were beat up in the crash, but at least they work. I'd rather you have these since you'll be covering me."

"Alright, you're the boss," Luke said, adjusting the NVGs. Looking up and down the mountainside with his M-16 poised and ready to fire, Luke sighed and said, "I miss my minigun."

With a soft chuckle, Wayne took the radio and, getting down as low as he could, moved slowly towards the open with the cover of darkness shrouding him.

Luke breathed in and out slowly, resigned to main as still as possible for as long as it took, carefully scanning the mountain range. A few drops of sweat beaded up on his forehead; he ignored them the best he could, instead bringing all of his attention to protect the Lieutenant.

Wayne was now twenty yards away from Luke. It was a surreal feeling being this far away from Wayne, especially in enemy territory during the darkest hour of the night.

After Wayne moved an estimated total of thirty yards, he stopped. It was hard to tell through the NVGs, but Luke guessed Wayne was making the radio call. Luke continued looking around but didn't see anything. He scanned the mountains, over and over, nervously looking at Wayne, hoping he had made contact.

It was just too eerily calm. The sooner they could get out of there, the better.

---

"Watcher, this is Reaper 31, do you copy," Wayne gave another hushed call-out on the radio. He had been trying for several minutes; he was frustrated with the lack of contact, but wasn't going to give up. "Watcher, Reaper 31, we have two souls requesting pickup, how do you copy?"

He sighed with quiet exasperation. He had to admit, he wasn't quite sure what to do if Watcher didn't respond. There had to be search and rescue aircraft all over this area, he told himself, trying to stay positive.

"Watcher, Reaper 31, come in," he said professionally but with a strained tone.

Suddenly, the radio answered back.

"Reaper 31, this is Watcher. State your position."

A smile of relief crept up on Wayne's face. "Watcher, we have two souls for pickup. Stand by for estimated position."

---

It was hard to tell what was going on. Patton didn't know if Wayne was able to get a hold of Watcher or not since Wayne was practically frozen in position. He couldn't exactly read lips through NVGs. The best thing he could do was keep his fingers crossed, assuming he wasn't holding his rifle.

Taking a deep breath, trigger finger steady, he told himself over and over to stay calm and remain patient.

Off in the distance, at the base of the mountains, Patton thought he spotted a heat signature. Pointing his M-16 in the general direction, he took a closer look. The night vision goggles weren't working very well, but after a few seconds he realized it wasn't just one heat signature. It was at least two or three.

Now it was five. It looked like a couple of them had heat sources on them – lanterns or flashlights, perhaps – which helped highlight the small group. The heat signatures were getting bigger, indicating that they were getting closer. Patton estimated they were approximately two hundred yards from Wayne, and heading towards him.

With a quick glance Patton confirmed the Lieutenant remained stationary like an immovable rock, but because of the small group's sources of light they could potentially spot him at any moment. At first, Patton didn't know if Wayne knew of the impending danger, but when they started talking to each other, speaking in their native language, Patton knew it was loud enough for the Lieutenant to hear them.

In these parts of the mountains and at this time of night, Patton knew they weren't exactly goat herders or sheep farmers. His instinct was proven correct as they came into view; every last one of them carried a rifle. If Patton had to guess, he'd put money down that they were a search party trying to locate the two downed American Airmen. This wasn't good.

Patton couldn't move out of his position without exposing himself in the open, but he had to do something. They were getting dangerously close to Wayne and the risk of them stumbling upon him was going up each second.

Come on, think, Luke,he thought to himself, trying to figure the best way to keep them away from the Lieutenant and give him enough time to make the radio call. He needed a distraction. Grabbing a rock, he threw it as hard as he could towards the mountains, in the complete opposite direction of where Wayne was.

To his surprise, the group of insurgents not only turned around, but they began to shout and opened fire. No 'come out with your hands up', no 'surrender'; just shoot to kill. It confirmed his suspicions that they were in fact a search party looking for Patton and Wayne.

Patton raised his rifle, pointing it towards the group of insurgents. Shooting them would be a last resort, but if he had to do it, he wouldn't hesitate to do so. Luke noticed something encouraging out of the corner of his eye; Wayne had set off a smoke flare, which was only visible by NVGs.

That could only mean one thing: The radio call was successful and Search and Rescue was finally on it's way.

Patton breathed a sigh of relief, and for the first time since they had been shot down, he had hope. But he knew they weren't out of the woods yet. If Search and Rescue was inbound, they would not only see the smoke, but they would see muzzle flash if a firefight broke out.

Hopefully they were already in the air and on their way.

Keeping his rifle aimed at the insurgents, Patton remained patient and held his fire. There was no sense in starting a firefight if they didn't have to, especially when it was two-versus-several. Every minute counted.

The insurgents investigated the area where he threw the rock; Patton could tell they were confused. Obviously, they didn't find anything. Some of the men began yelling about something; Patton couldn't understand a word they were saying but their arms thrown up in the air and their tone of anger was a universal sign of rage and frustration.

Wayne began a slow low crawl back to Patton, leaving the smoke in place. It was apparent that he was trying to get to back to Patton to take cover and avoid detection altogether. All Patton could do was stay patient and cover him in case something happened.

One of the insurgents started yelling frantically at the others. Patton couldn't initially figure out why, but he had a bad feeling. He put the insurgent in his crosshairs, straining his eyes, trying to figure out what he was up to.

Without warning the insurgent opened fire at Wayne. It looked like he had been hit at least once, but it was hard to tell given the circumstances.

Patton, completely surprised at what had just transpired, shouted in anger and fired back. His aim was true; several bullets tore into the man's chest and he fell over dead. Patton continued spraying his rifle at the other insurgents. Two more immediately fell before any of them could react.

Patton was angry, cursing himself for not taking the shot earlier. All he could guess was that particular insurgent must have had his own NVGs and put them on. After that, it would have been easy to see Wayne. Patton desperately wanted to look over at Wayne to see if he was ok, but he had his hands full given the return fire from the remaining insurgents. His NVGs, as degraded as they were, gave him the advantage but he knew his tracer fire could potentially give away his position. Besides, Patton didn't know if anyone else had NVGs but at least for now he could draw fire.

"LT! TAKE COVER," Patton yelled over the roar of his M-16, trying to draw enemy fire as best as he could. Their aim was getting better; a few chunks of rock in front of Patton broke off from the incoming bullets, hitting him harmlessly before falling to the ground. It was enough to remind himself he wasn't ducking down enough.

Patton dropped another one or two, but there were still a handful of insurgents remaining. They were getting smarter; Patton saw them scrambling up against the mountainside, trying to find makeshift cover, just as he had done.

The sounds of gunfire erupted from behind Patton. Instinctively, he threw himself against the rocks, trying to hole up now that he was being shot at from both ends of the battlefield. He cursed, realizing the firefight must have drawn out more insurgents.

Patton was surrounded. Gritting his teeth, he realized this was probably it. Enemies attacking from the front, more enemies attacking from the rear, and one American soldier lying out in the open either wounded or possibly dead. It was one man against countless foreign enemies.

There was no way out.

Six Years Earlier

"Think I can get a copy of that," Luke asked Aaron meekly.

It was Homecoming week, and the two young freshmen sat towards the top of the bleachers.

Aaron continued to slowly pan his camera across the Mustang junior varsity cheerleaders, capturing them jumping up and down in their purple and white uniforms while celebrating another Mustang touchdown underneath the bright Thursday night lights. He snickered, "Need some material for the bedroom, do you? Stick with the Internet; it will just depress you if its girls you know or like."

"What? No! It's not like that," Luke quickly replied.

"Are you still hot and bothered over the head cheerleader?"

After a delayed response, Luke stammered, "M-Maybe. Look, just, never mind..."

Aaron laughed, "Don't worry, I'll hook you up. I'm zooming in as we speak, just for you. She is a little cutie. Probably a snot, though. All cheerleaders are. At least on JV. Varsity is probably worse."

Luke smiled, "Just because they don't want losers like us doesn't necessarily make them snots."

"Maybe. But I'd say she's more of a self licking ice cream cone."

"Dude, a what?" Luke was completely confused. "I don't think she's that kind of girl..."

"No, man, that's not what I meant. Itmeanssomething you really want, something desirable that you just can't have. Something narcissistic that would rather have itself. So you want the ice cream, but you can't lick it. In other words, she's just eye candy. You can look, but can't touch. Or lick."

Luke quickly said, "Ok, I get it; stop before you sound any more perverted than you already do."

The crowd erupted as the Mustangs scored another touchdown; quite possibly the entire home-field side of the stadium jumped to their feet except for Luke and Aaron.

Aaron turned his camera towards the far end zone, zooming in as fast as he could, "Dammit, Luke, I missed their touchdown thanks to your cheerleader fetish. I'm never gonna be good at this filming thing."

Quietly Luke told him, "Well, technically it's not a cheerleader fetish, it's just one girl..." but Aaron either didn't hear him or seem to care.

"All well. It's only the first game of the season," he said, scanning the football field.

Luke couldn't keep his eyes off of Kaylee. His fingers nervously tapped the bench while he adjusted his glasses.

After the Mustangs kicked the ball off and tackled the receiving team down at the twenty-five, the cheerleaders took a short break from cheering.

"I'll be back, save my seat," Luke said, jumping up quickly and running down the metal bleacher stairs.

Aaron lowered the camera for a second, finally realizing what Luke was doing. "Luke... I know what you're thinking, don't do it! She'll eat you alive! Don't kick the beehive..."

Luke had already run down the stairs and was leaning up against the guardrail separating the fans from the cheerleaders.

"You're going to kick the beehive, aren't you," Aaron whispered, powerless and unable to help his friend. "Well," he shrugged, shaking it off and pointing the camera towards Luke, "Might as well film the car wreck."

---

Nervously adjusting his glasses, Luke stood at the rail, fidgeting with his hands while trying to come up with the right words to say. Thankfully the cheerleaders were watching the game, their backs turned towards him, giving him a moment to think. Summoning up all the courage he could muster, he sputtered, "Uh, h-hi, Kaylee."

Kaylee Reed turned around, a puzzled look on her face as the nerdy kid with the messy hair addressed her. Confused, she raised an eyebrow and said, "Uh, hi?"

Luke opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Kaylee was still puzzled, but at least a small smile crept up on her face.

"I'm..." was all Luke could get out.

Kaylee smiled, "Um, right. I hope you enjoy the game... you."

As she started to turn around, he shouted, "Luke!"

A goofy smile crossed his face, "I mean, my name is Luke. I think you're doing an amazing job, by the way. You've nailed every move so far."

Kaylee awkwardly laughed, her voice devoid of all emotions except for confusion, "Thanks, um, Luke. See you around." She quickly turned around. The cheerleader next to her, he thought her name was Cindy-something, took a quick look at Luke and whispered something in Kaylee's ear, laughing. Kaylee's face turned red; she narrowed her eyebrows at her friend, shaking her head 'no' emphatically, almost in disgust.

Luke blushed and started to walk backwards until he almost tripped on the stairs, catching himself at the last minute. Walking back towards Aaron, he sat down quietly next to his friend.

"So... you should know I filmed your negative-cool maneuver. 'Crash and burn, Mav'. But don't sweat it; like you said, they're from a world much different than ours."

Luke didn't say anything. He simply stared at Kaylee.

Aaron, unable to tolerate the silence, offered him a simple, "Sorry, man."

Luke smiled, "Do you think I can get a copy of that one, too?"

Present Day

All he could think about as his life flashed before his eyes was a young freshman cheerleader on a Thursday night, so many years ago. It was when Kaylee first learned his name – or ratherre-learnedit since she didn't really remember him from when they were playmates together in elementary school. It made him realize exactly how much he would miss the girl who went from being his friend, to being unable to stand him, to falling in love with him.

He felt a terrible guilt for not returning any of her emails, letters, or phone calls after Cash hit the 'send' button on his break-up email. Even though he didn't want the email sent, it was for the best. Best for Kaylee, at least, even if she didn't know it.

Why that freshman year moment in time surfaced in his head, he wasn't sure. Maybe it was because it defined a time of innocence in his life, living peacefully inside the wire, blissfully unaware of the evils and dangers outside of his personal world. His biggest personal danger was avoiding bullies who'd love nothing more than to stuff him in a locker. For the most part, things were so much simpler.

Whatever the reason, the fact was he would miss her tremendously.

He tried as hard as he could to forget about the love of his life and instead focus on the present moment in time. It felt like an invisible clock hung over his head, displaying the few remaining minutes left until his life expired. Maybe seconds, at this point. Patton might have been flying solo, but even if his time were almost up he wouldn't go down without a fight.

He swore he'd take as many down with him as he could. Swinging his weapon towards the rear, he opened fire on the new heat sources before they could sneak up on him. Most of the insurgents scattered, trying to find cover. Patton at least caught them off guard.

The closest insurgent was about thirty yards away and thirty feet above Patton in elevation, firing down. Patton aimed his rifle upwards and returned fire. Only the upper body of the enemy was exposed, but it was enough of a target. Patton had the advantage of vision and training, and his aim proved to be true. Bullets hammered into the insurgent's body, causing him to fall backwards and off the ledge.

Two more insurgents closed in on Patton, and he counted at least four more behind them. That made six in front of him, and he knew there were another five or six behind him and closing in. Patton growled and held the trigger down, preparing to empty the clip if that's what it took.

Then an amazing thing happened that Patton wasn't expecting. It was one of those things he knew would stick with him for the rest of his life, even if the rest of his life only extended to the next few minutes.

A familiar sound arose from behind him, getting louder and louder by the second. It was the sound of freedom – the whirling steel rotors of the Pave Hawk. He guessed, judging by the sound, there were at least two or three and they were all opening fire on the surviving insurgents behind him. With any luck, there were more on the way.

Taking a quick glance over his shoulder, rifle still held up high, Patton saw an Air Force Pararescue Jumper sliding down the helicopter and immediately grabbing the Lieutenant. He noticed Wayne moving of his own accord, which was a huge relief. That meant that for now, at least, Wayne was alive. The PJ secured him to the forest penetrator cable, signaling to the crew they were ready to be hoisted up together.

Now that Wayne was safe, all Patton had to do was stay alive for a little longer and make a break for the helicopters as soon as he had a chance.

The insurgents weren't going to make it easy, though. Although most were still firing at the U.S. helicopters, there was still a heavy concentration of fire towards Patton, forcing him down and against the rocks. He knew the Pave Hawks would handle anything out in the open behind him, but he had to worry about the insurgents up the mountain as well as the same direction they came from. The only place left to go was the steep drop off leading down the mountain, a good thirty feet down with nothing but sharp rock below.

Patton heard the A-10s in the background unloading their arsenal. At first, he was elated at all the air support he was getting. But the more he thought about it he grew more concerned. Why would A-10s be engaged in close air support this far away from him?