Myths and Legends - Amazons - Interlude

Interlude

Airborne Warning and Control System (AWACS) Aircraft

Somewhere over the southern Atlantic Sea

"Sir!" the Radar Technician, or RT for short, called. "You need to see this!"

"What is it, lieutenant?" the Airborne Battle Management Officer, or ABMO, asked as he made his way to the radar operator's station.

"An island, sir," the RT replied, pointing at the blip on the screen. "It just popped up on screen. It appears to be dead center in the Bermuda Triangle."

"An island, huh?" the ABMO asked. "And you're sure it wasn't there before?"

"Positive, sir."

"Not saying I don't believe you, Lieutenant, but you've only been on the job a few weeks," the captain replied. "Now, are you absolutely certain it wasn't there before."

"Yes, Captain," the lieutenant replied with certainty. "I've been monitoring the area off and on all morning. It was not there as of five minutes ago."

"Do we have anyone currently in the area?"

"No, sir. Not since all traffic was ordered from the area a week ago," the RT replied.

"Alright, RT," the captain replied, using the shortened initials for the technician as he patted the young man on the shoulder. "Go take a smoke break."

The RT looked up at the captain in confusion. "Smoke break, sir?"

"You know what I mean, Baker," the captain replied. "Now, hop to."

"Yes, sir," the RT replied as he got up from the console and strode away with a purpose.

Sitting down at the console, the captain picked up the communication device, which wasn't more complex than a nineties era home phone, and punched the number for the Mission Control Commander, or MCC.

"Go for Williams," the man on the other end greeted when he picked up the line.

"Colonel Williams, sir," the captain replied. "Can you meet me in radar, please?"

"Anything I need to know before I get there, Captain Lidecker?" the MCC asked.

"No, sir."

The colonel grunted. "I'll be right there."

A minute later, the wiry lieutenant colonel stepped into the radar room. "What is it, Sam?" the colonel asked.

"Lieutenant Baker found himself an island, Jeff," Sam said with a wide grin.

Jeff's right eyebrow rose in question. "Go on."

"Well, it seems the overzealous young butter-bar has been paying particular attention to a certain area around Bermuda."

"The triangle?" Jeff asked.

"Yes, sir," Sam replied. "He just informed me that a mysterious island has popped up dead center of the triangle."

"Cut the fantasy mumbo jumbo, Sam. What's going on?"

"Yes, sir. I think Baker is a bit of a conspiracy theorist. He specifically mentioned the evacuation of all personnel in and around the Bermuda Triangle. He says he's been monitoring the area off and on since the evac and is one-hundred percent certain the island was not there as of ten minutes ago."

"Show me," Jeff ordered.

"Good thing I already have satellite imaging ready for you. Here you go." Sam pointed to the image on the screen. Jeff looked down on an egg-shaped island in the middle of the Bermuda Triangle. At its northern point, there looked to be a flat cap-rock that could have been formed from a long-dormant volcano. As Sam zoomed in, more features of the small island came into view. A majority of the island consisted of thick vegetation and forests that extended from the center all the way to the water's edge.

Jeff noted a small beach area on the south side, but what really caught his attention as Sam continued to zoom in was the small cove on the east side where a small river fed into the sea. Just south of the estuary Jeff was amazed to see what appeared to be a small village. Most of the huts were run-down from disuse, but one large hut on the east side of the village, close to the water, looked to be in good condition. A square wall surrounded the large hut with an opening on the west side facing the rest of the village.

"Zoom in on that hut, Sam," Jeff ordered, pointing at the large hut that looked inhabited. "Is this live feed?"

"It is, sir," the captain replied.

The two men watched for a few moments before a dark-haired woman emerged from the hut on unsteady legs. She was completely naked as she arched her back and stretched, staggering slightly as she basked in the early morning sun. Another woman emerged next, also nude, with honey-blonde hair.

Finally, two more naked people emerged from the hut. Another woman, a redhead, followed by a man with light-brown hair cut close to his head. The man staggered and fell to his knees as he emerged, clearly being supported by the woman. All four people seemed to be weak, as if they were afflicted by some energy-draining condition.

"Are they sick?" Sam wondered aloud.

"They seem to be," Jeff replied as he kept his gaze fixed on the man. "Does that guy look familiar to you?"

"Hmm," Sam hummed as he looked closely at the man on the screen. "Satellite imaging is far from perfect so I can't really tell from this distance. Look at this, though," Sam said, pointing to an area that looked like a fire pit just outside the entrance to the walled compound. "See anything you recognize?"

"Is that... Is that a cockpit seat!?" Jeff asked, astonished.

"COLONEL BLACKBURN!!"

"SHIT!" the two senior officers exclaimed as they both jumped in fright. Turning, they saw Lieutenant Baker in the doorway, eyes wide in astonished excitement.

"What did you say, Lieutenant?" Jeff asked when he'd gotten control of his nerves again.

"That's Colonel Blackburn!" Baker exclaimed again, pointing to the man on the screen. "It looks just like him!"

The two senior officers looked back to the screen to scrutinize the man once more. "Are you sure, Jack?" Jeff asked.

"It has to be!" Jack replied. "That's where his plane went down, isn't it?"

The Lieutenant Colonel turned a speculative glare at the young Lieutenant. "Now how would you know, given that information was only passed along to a select few individuals?"

"Who's Colonel Blackburn?" Sam asked as he looked between the other two men in confusion.

"I put two and two together, sir," Jeff replied. "It's not that big of a secret that the Air Force is developing another sp--"

"Shut your trap and get in here, Lieutenant!" Colonel Williams barked, interrupting the young officer. The young lieutenant entered the already cramped space and closed the door behind him. "I don't know how you know, but that is SAP level security information you're just blabbing out in the open, Lieutenant Baker. I've got half a mind to revoke your security clearance for your stupidity."

Lieutenant Baker had gone to attention, looking straight ahead at nothing as the colonel chewed his ass. He stood still, awaiting orders as Colonel Williams ignored him and faced a wide-eyed Captain Lidecker.

"You've got TS/SCI clearance, Sam, and since the idiot Lieutenant opened his fat mouth, I'll give you the short version. For the last twenty years, the brass have been developing a successor to the SR-71. They've nicknamed it 'Son of Blackbird'. However, instead of dubbing it SR-72, as per normal protocol, it somehow was named SR-80. It took off for its maiden flight just over a week ago with one Colonel Jacob Blackburn at the helm. According to SECAF, the plane performed flawlessly throughout its flight around the globe. However, when it hit the outskirts of the Bermuda Triangle, the bird literally just disappeared without a trace."

"What happened to the pilot?" Sam asked. "Was anything at all recovered?"

"That's just it, Sam," Jeff replied. "Washington ordered all traffic from the area until an agreement with Bermuda can be established for recovery."

"But, isn't Bermuda our friend and ally?" Lieutenant Baker asked, his curiosity overcoming his ability to stay silent.

Jeff looked back at the young man for a few silent minutes before sighing. "As you were, Lieutenant. Yes, Bermuda and the US are allies. However, they are still under the protection of the UK, and as such, we have to go through quite a bit of red tape before getting authorization for any kind of recovery operation."

"Why do you think it's taking so long, Jeff?" Sam asked.

"I don't know," Jeff replied. "If I were spit-balling, I'd say the UK wants intel on the SR-80 and is holding out hope Uncle Sam will cave. Once word gets out that Jake is alive, though, no amount of red tape is going to keep us from going in and getting him, relations be damned."

"He's that important?" the young officer asked, incredulous.

"As the first and only pilot to fly the world's most sophisticated spy plane since the SR-71 was decommissioned, what do you think?" Jeff retorted. "Yeah, he's that important. I'll be surprised if we don't have him back inside a week."

Lieutenant Baker's eyebrows climbed into his hairline, his face turning white as a sheet as he pointed back at the screen. "S-sir," the young man stammered. "I th-think the s-situation just got a whole lot m-m-more complicated!"

The two senior officers looked at the screen and their mouths dropped at the sight of the creature approaching the four people on the island.