Wings of Fire Ch. 03

She was beautiful, as her features were striking enough to warrant her as gorgeous. She was also possessed of a pair of hypnotic blue eyes that seemed to penetrate his soul. The one thing James noticed most was her breasts, as they were easily the largest he'd ever seen! Despite her physical beauty and that she was shorter than some of the men, the aura she commanded was one of respect.

"I am Captain Michelle Greyheart of the Crimson Sky Mercenary Group. You have landed on my ship without authorization. As such, I should have the lot of you thrown off for trespassing, without a parachute," she told them in a serious voice.

"But, because of how you landed here and have managed to avoid being detected, you have piqued my curiosity. I would hear why you are here, what your intentions are and how you came to possess such a magnificent aircraft!" she said admiringly, looking over the design of the prototype.

"I kind of... stole it," James admitted. "Though to be fair, it was stolen from me in the first place."

"Really? How so?"

"The design of this plane, right down to the bolts, was mine, and it was stolen from me, before I could build it independently," he said, keeping the fear from his voice.

"Indeed?? You designed this marvel?" the captain said louder than she should have. The rest of the crew, looking on with their weapons, exchanged disbelieving and surprised looks. A boy like him had designed this artful piece of machinery? Many of them were duly impressed with that and his flying skills.

"I need to ask, where did you learn to fly like that?" Captain Greyheart wondered.

"With all due respect, captain, I'm sorry, but that's a secret I cannot tell," James responded.

"Shoot him," Michelle ordered her bosun, and he gladly took aim at James' face. Screaming in horror and rage, Laura jumped in front of the gun, causing the bosun to hold his fire momentarily. He moved to knock Laura aside, but was halted when she shouted out her next few words.

"George Vlahos!"

"What did you just say?!?" Michelle breathed, her face betraying her shock.

"He was taught by George Vlahos! He and his former co-workers used to call him 'Old Vlahos' because of his grey hair!" Laura continued to shout. Almost instantly, everyone on deck lowered their weapons, having heard the name and respecting the man he was.

"Laura!" James griped from behind. She looked at him apologetically, knowing she may have just put them all in danger.

"Did he teach anyone else how to fly? Where did you learn how to fly?" the captain asked, her words deadly as bared blades.

"He owned a small airfield just north of Charleston, West Virginia. As far as I know, I am the only one he taught. He spoke to me once, of a brother he lost in the Boston riots, back in forty-eight," he said, knowing that his and the girls' lives depended on his answer.

"Everyone stand down! These kids are just that, kids! Back to your posts!" she ordered, gesturing for everyone on deck to lower their weapons.

"Captain?!?" the bosun wondered in consternation.

Right then, she grabbed the bosun by the shoulder and whispered something into his ear. Whatever it was, it wiped the worried look off his face, which was quickly replaced by awe and respect. He duly lowered his rifle and slung it over his shoulder before waiting for his orders. Moments later, Ottilia fainted, dropping to the ground like a sack of beans.

"Ottie!" Laura screamed as she ran to her friend's side.

"I guess we scared the poor girl a bit much then?" Michelle asked, sounding slightly chagrined.

"She's been through far more than either Laura or myself. I can tell you that much," James said, lowering his hands.

"Bosun, take this girl to sick bay and so that the Doctor can see what's wrong with her," Captain Greyheart ordered.

"Aye, aye captain!" he saluted before going to where Ottilia lay and scooping her up. "Worry not, lass, she'll be in good hands!"

"Still, I want to go with her!" Laura almost demanded. Michelle raised an eyebrow before Laura replied. "As long as it's OK with you, Captain?"

"Seeing a friendly face will help keep her calm. You may go with her, but once you get to sick bay, you do whatever Dr. Sigrunsdottir asks of you. Is that clear?" she told Laura, while reminding her of who was in charge of the ship.

"Crystal, Captain!" Laura said while saluting. With a slight giggle, Michelle waved them away, leaving her with James.

"You, Mr. Brighton, will accompany me to my quarters and tell me of how it is that you came to be here and how you obtained this aircraft," she told him.

"Aye Captain. But may I grab my duffle bag and the girls' bags from the cargo bay?" he asked.

"Are there any weapons stowed in said bags?" the captain asked, quirking her brow once again.

"Aye. I will open my bags and display them and if you wish, you may look through the girls' bags as well," he said.

Nodding, the captain gestured for him to do so. James went over to the cargo bay with four of Captain Greyheart's men standing near. Even though he had convinced the captain of his honesty, he still had to prove that to her men. James undid the cargo bay latch and pulled out the bags. He carefully removed the weapons from his bag, showing that he had nothing to hide.

The mercs had a quick look at his belongings and how James was moving his clothes and the spare uniforms he had. Convinced that he had unveiled all weapons they had possessed, they took little interest in the additional belongings. James was careful to not let on all the gold he had as he was sure that the captain would let them take it. They did take an interest in the wine bottles and wondered if the wine was any good.

"The guy I stole these from would down three to four of these in a single day, so I guess it is," he told the mercs. They then shot a look at their captain, who mulled over a thought in her head before replying.

"He has two bottles, so you gentlemen may take one. Only when you are off duty, is that understood?" she told them with a serious look.

"Yes, Ma'am!" they chorused, and James let them take one bottle. They also took a vaunted interest in the weapons, especially the sword and the colt revolver. Captain Greyheart also took an interest in them as well.

"I will look after those weapons gentlemen," plucking them out of their hands. They pouted visibly, but were happy enough with the shotgun, M1911 pistol, and hunting knife.

"May I keep my knife, please? It was a gift from my grandfather," he asked the captain. She nodded and the mercs grudgingly gave it back. "You guys will want to take that pistol apart and see what's wrong with it. It won't fire, so the spring pin is jammed or broken. The shotgun works just fine though."

"An honest man. A difficult thing to come by these days," Michelle said admiringly. "Tex, you grab the girls' bags and take them to sick bay. Swoop, Bullet, you will accompany me to my cabin, where I will question our guest. Eagle Eye, get that plane stowed now. It wouldn't do for anyone other than us to see it above deck and wonder where we got it. We are still in the neutral zone after all."

"Aye, Captain!" they said in unison before bolting to their duties.

"Mr. Brighton, follow me," she said quickly, as she turned on her heel, heading for a door in the command tower.

James grabbed his bag and followed along, making it seem that the weight of his bag was light. They walked in and descended a metal staircase, heading down into the bowels of the ship. They dropped three flights before the metal décor changed to a wooden one. The wooden walls and paneling were a dark cherry with burnished brass fittings that ran the length of the corridor.

If James had to guess, he figured they descended to the officer's deck, where the Captain's quarters rested. They marched to the end of the corridor to a large singular door, which was assumed to be Michelle's residence, on the airship. They stopped for a moment while she relayed her orders.

"You two can head on back to your duties. I can take it from here," she told them. Swoop and Bullet saluted before turning about and marching away. Before they did this, though, they fixed James with a stink eye, telling him to be civil. James smirked at their retreating forms, thinking Captain Greyheart's men were just being protective of her.

"Come in, Mr. Brighton, and be seated," Michelle told him as she opened the door and let him in. As he walked inside, James' jaw dropped at the lavish finery he witnessed. The fluffy silk cushions and the expensive drapes and wall hangings he saw wouldn't have looked out of place in a sultan's palace! Behind her was a large bomber bay window, which afforded them a spectacular view of the lands and skies!

In the center of the room was a large desk with a chair on either side of it. James seated himself in the chair with its back to the door while Michelle sat comfortably in her chair across from him. She placed both hands in front of her in a relaxed gesture and spoke.

"So, Mr. Brighton, if you will be so kind as to regale me with your tale? Be warned though, I do not suffer liars lightly and I have every intention of carrying out my earlier threat," she said as she waited.

James began his tale with his mother's death some weeks ago, making sure to not leave anything out. Him being thrown out of the house, having to live at the airfield, discovering the theft of his plans, he left nothing out. He skimped on the details of his erotic encounters with Marisol and Laura, though, as well as his mother's letters, which Michelle smirked at. James finished his story with his choice to land on the airship and the captain was quiet for a moment.

"A very interesting tale, and true by how you tell it. Though you left out a few points, about Ms. Marino and Ms. Natale. How did they come to be in those places at those times, with you?" she queried.

"I would tell you, but their stories are not mine to tell. They entrusted me with staying quiet about it and I will respect their wishes," he told her evenly. A look of pleasant surprise flitted across Michelle's face briefly before she spoke.

"A man who is both honest and who keeps secrets entrusted to him. A rare thing indeed!"

"Thank you, Ma'am. Now, I believe we can discuss matters of payment to take us across to the Republic?" he wondered.

"Yes, we should! I believe you said you found items of worth in that safe you opened?" she said, her eyes gleaming.

Nodding, James reached into his duffle bag and pulled out the wads of cash, placing them in front of her. It was a substantial sum to be sure, but she clucked her tongue in disappointment.

"That is a fair pile of cash, but in the lands we're crossing into, it won't be worth much," she said regretfully. "The Indigenous peoples don't put a high value on the American dollar, so it would only be worth a third of what's here."

"Are you serious?" he asked.

"Sadly yes. Though I am willing to take a loss, provided you are willing to part with some... items," she said, fingering both the sword and the revolver she had set on her desk.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but I refuse to part with either of those weapons. The colt is a well-maintained weapon and a rare find. And the sword... it's all I have of my father," James responded.

"Unless you have anything else of value in that bag of yours, boy, I'm afraid we will have to confiscate your plane," Michelle told him nonchalantly.

Inwardly, James growled as he bent down to retrieve the bars he'd found in the safe and placed them on the desk in front of her. Michelle's eyes lit up at the sight of the gold, leaning forward as James fished the remaining bars out of his bag. He plonked down four of them and hesitated to bring out the fifth one. James then remembered that she was a mercenary captain, not bound by any rules save her own, and pulled it out.

"This has my attention! More than enough to buy your passage to the Republic and then some! Though, we will not be heading straight there, as we make port in many cities, to see if there is work. Although there is the means to keep us all fed, drunk and well fucked, discipline on a ship can never slacken. If it does, I would quickly lose control of the whole crew," Captain Greyheart told him.

"Though I would like to get to the Republic, I am in no hurry. That is, if we are in Indigenous lands?" he asked.

"We are and have been for the last half an hour now. Have a look," she said as she gestured to the window behind them. It was well into dusk, but James could tell that the cleared land that represented the neutral zone was no longer in sight. He saw nothing but thick forests and wide streams, which told him all he needed to know.

"Now, I believe we were discussing payment?" Michelle said, returning to the matter at hand.

"Yes! How many of these bars will buy us all passage to the Republic, and allow me to keep my plane, weapons and gear?" he asked.

Captain Greyheart mulled over her answer before shifting four of the bars over to her side of the desk. James was dumbstruck that she had asked for so much! Even though American money was worth so little, the gold had to be worth far more! He forced himself to calm down and not lose his cool before he spoke.

"Captain, surely the amount you are asking is too much! I would be happy with you taking three bars, but you can't be that desperate for coin, unless you are?" he probed. A quick flash of anger struck Michelle's face at this question, and James knew he had her.

"Since this is the case, what services can I offer that would allow me to keep two of these bars and everything I've asked?" he wondered.

"What are you offering?" she asked, her anger abating a little.

"My services as a designer and to help you with whatever pickle you are in, concerning your own planes. I worked at an airfield for the better part of eight years, so I know my way around planes. Not fighters so much, but I learn quickly. On top of which, I have several designs that can be drawn from better your own aircraft. What say you, Captain?" James asked.

"I say you drive a hard bargain, James Brighton, but you have yourself a deal. With two additional conditions," she said with a smile.

"Being what?" he asked, a little apprehensive.

"The first of which is that you and those two ladies you came with will work as members of this crew. Learning the various duties of this airship, training and restoring my fleet of fighters and bombers to what they once were," she said to him evenly.

"I would say yes, but I can't speak for the girls until I ask them," James told her fairly.

"Well then, why don't we ask them?" Michelle said and flipped a switch on her desk, turning on a hidden intercom.

"Doctor Sigrunsdottir, come in, please. Doctor Sigrunsdottir, are you there?" she asked the intercom. Static answered her for several seconds before a response came through.

"For the thousandth time, Captain, please, call me Zelda!" an annoyed and slightly accented voice came through the intercom.

"Sorry Zelda, standing on formality in this case. What news of the patient that the bosun brought in?" Michelle wondered.

"She is still unconscious, but alive and responding well. She is resting and needs at least a day of rest and nourishment before she will be back on her feet," the doctor told her.

"What of her companion, Laura?"

"She is here right now. Did you wish to speak to her?" Zelda responded.

"Please, put her on," the captain commanded.

"Hello?" Laura's voice came through. Michelle then gestured for James to start speaking.

"Hey Laura, it's Jim! How are you and Ottie doing?" he asked, unsure if she would hear him.

"Jim! It's so good to hear your voice! We're doing OK and Ottie is sleeping right now. The doc says that she was suffering some mild dehydration and was badly underfed, but that she'll pull through!" Laura replied, her tone thankful.

"That's good to hear! Listen, the captain has a proposition for us and it's something you will need to listen to carefully," he told her. James then laid out Captain Greyheart's proposal, telling her they'd get to the Republic, eventually. He mentioned the bars briefly, saying that three were being traded and at what they'd keep. Laura's response was almost immediate.

"I accept the terms of the proposal, on mine and Ottie's behalf, Captain Greyheart!"

"Are you sure? She's not even conscious to hear the proposal," she told her.

"Ottilia and I have been friends for a long time, Captain. We both have been going stir crazy with the lives we led back in the U.S. We are both what you would call... 'tomboys'?" she said hesitantly.

"So, you are more akin to working like men do and doing things that men would normally do, as opposed to what many women are expected to be?" Michelle said, defining the term for her.

"If that is what a tomboy is, then yes! Both Ottilia and I will happily work on the ship to help pay our passage to the Republic!" she enthused.

"Happy to hear it, young lady!"

"Captain?" Zelda piped up.

"Yes, Doctor?"

"I would recommend that Ottilia stay in sick bay for the next day at least, before she can be assigned work detail. Laura, however, can bet set to work right away," the doc replied.

"Very well. That much will be granted before she is set to work. Laura Marino, Doctor Sigrunsdottir will assign you a cabin for both you and Ottilia. Though you have stated that you are a tomboy, I expect you to report to Gertrude in the Galley tomorrow morning at six A.M., sharp. Am I understood?" she asked, her orders clear.

"Yes, ma'am!" Laura replied. "Thank you, ma'am!"

"Get some sleep then. You will be busy tomorrow. And doctor, excellent work, as always," Michelle stated.

"And for the last time, call me Zelda!" the doctor chided, before cutting the line.

"There you have it. The ladies have agreed to the terms of the deal. So, we then have an agreement concerning your help with our planes?" Michelle queried.

"Before I agree, I have a couple of questions for you," James told her.

"Of course! Ask away!"

"The moment I mentioned Old Vlahos, you got this look on your face, like you knew him. How is it that a mercenary captain knows who he was?" James asked.

"Clever boy, spotting that. Let's just say we are well acquainted, considering we served with the same group where he got his lessons," Captain Greyheart whispered.

James' eyes bugged out of their head at this admission! Captain Michelle Greyheart had admitted to serving with the Black Widows during the war! He even believed that she could be a Widow herself but wasn't sure! A thought entered his head as to how he could find out if she truly was one of the feared warrior women he had read so much about!

"Did you have a callsign?" he breathed.

"Artemis."

James almost lost his mind right there! He was standing in the presence of one of the few women who had survived the Nuremberg sortie! She was there when Margaret Bishop had beheaded Hitler and ended the war before it could continue! He remembered to breathe and kept on doing so, making sure he didn't pass out! James almost snapped to attention and saluted the woman before she stopped him.

"There's no need for that. Those days are behind me and right now, I am just a simple mercenary captain, trying to make her way into the world," she told him.

"Aye, ma'am!" he said, sitting at ease, calming down. "For the deal we have struck, I agree to the terms. But I would know what the final condition you mentioned is."

"Well, since we have an accord," she said, taking his hand and shaking it once. "You deserve to know what it is. What I want is for you to pay me a visit whenever I require it and for you to fuck my brains out!"

"Wha..." he blurted out.

"Thinking about saying no?" she wondered in a mock hurt voice.