Dedicated to my sister, Jo Ann, for whom this story would not have been told otherwise and my loving wife, Loretta, for all those hours rereading and prodding.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Any resemblance to reality is purely coincidental, all characters and places are fictional.

(If you think you’re in it, you’re deluded)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

All cover art and text content is the original creation of the owner and all rights are retained by copyright.


What is will be again

 

 

 

            Leo’s gaze fell upon the Tiger. It was an unrecognizable smoldering hulk as the fire suppression system had expended the last of its reserves. The thirty-foot long vehicle had a hole nine feet in diameter that encompassed the front right hand corner. The hull was blown cleanly away and the hole covered more than a third of the nose and almost a quarter of the right side as well as a section of the roofline. The caterpillar track on the right side was twisted and broken like an old worn out discarded watchband. The rear left corner was mushroomed out as a peeled banana from the exit of the devastating weapons effect. The interior was completely gutted and burning debris was strewn in all directions but mostly in a path down range in the direction of the hit.

            Leo’s gaze was abruptly torn away as someone rolled him onto his back. If the Tiger was dead, he could not be far behind. A convulsion forced a warm fluid out his mouth and it ran down the corners of his lips and along his cheeks into his hair. He knew it was blood but it didn’t matter. A golf ball would have easily passed through the hole in his left upper chest that perforated his body.

Through his glazed eyes he looked into a maroon sky with pink and orange streaks ripping across it. Deep blue and violet shadows formed on the underbelly of the high altitude cloud layer that was bathed by the bright red-giant star’s light that hung low on the horizon.

He gasped for breath but only a slurping sucking sound was reward for his effort. His body was dyeing, but he had no fear. Slowly he entered a So Shin Do trance and as the shimmering sky faded an image formed of a boy that lived a carefree life and had a mind filled with adventures.


 

                                                                                 FEARSOME

                                                                                        Chapter 1

                                                                                  Boys will be boys

                                                                                   BY Dean Dodson

Deep inside the pirate's hideout Leo slithered along the cold moist cave floor, flashlight in hand and fantasies of pirate treasure about to be liberated on his mind. He loved it down in the dark dreary mine that once produced small amounts of silver and copper. It was latter used by the military, during a long past war, to conceal war secrets and Leo found small tidbits, left behind in the following peace, which he collected under his bed.

He had never been this deep before. He was in uncharted territory. In the past he noticed that the tunnels that were wired with electricity always led to neat stuff and it was a thick harness he had been following all afternoon. All of his maps were based on electrical circuits. He would just let the wires lead him where he wanted to go. All of the main circuits led to main distribution panels near the entrance. He could recognize the older installations; coax and fiber-optics always led to dead ends but the old style rigid conduit would lead him to the best of the treasures.

Most of the treasures at the ends of the tunnels were moldy reports about air defense deployments during World War Two, stuff that held little value to anyone except Leo. To him they were treasures. Sometimes though he would stumble across a forgotten box or crate. The ones marked “eyes only” were the greatest of all. They were the Holy Grail of his searching’s. Once he found one marked JFK and passed it over when he couldn’t open it.

Today he had high hopes of coming across something special. He came to an intersection and his light flickered. The high intensity LED, Light Emitting Diode, lamp was guaranteed for life and the power cell was lithium ion with a 2000-hour life. The hour counter indicated only eight hundred used. He continued down the tunnel following the cabling as he updated his map programmed into his handheld visa-view. His light abruptly went off and he was in total darkness. A rush of fear shot through his body, he had been stuck in the dark before and it wasn’t a pretty sight. This time he had his radio and his visa-view. When he checked them they were dead as well.

He reached out with his right hand and found the wall of the tunnel and placed his left hand on it turning around. He felt pretty sure that he was facing the way he came. He took one step and his light and other equipment powered back up. He heard about strong magnetic fields killing devices before in science class. He turned around again and slowly pushed his visa-view along in front of him until it went dead again. He probed along the mouth of the tunnel. It was like a vale that would not let him pass.

He shined his light as far as he could distinguish into the darkness. The 70,000-candle power was welcome at times like this. Just at the edge of the beam of his light something glistened. Definitely metallic. Leo couldn’t resist the call of his treasure. He placed the light on the ground and aimed the beam in the direction of the metal form. The first step was the hardest one to make, even for pirates.

He didn’t really have a clue as to what was waiting for him in the darkness. He saw mostly nothing in the old mine but dusty tunnels but there was the bottomless pit near the entrance. He froze. A blast of adrenaline shot through him and he almost ran for the safety of the light. He used So Shin Do mind control technique to control his fear. As he relaxed he noticed a glow coming from behind his treasure. His curiosity got the best of him and he headed towards the dim glow. As he approached it he could make out a filing cabinet as his target and the glow seemed to come from the cabinet itself. He reached for a handle and the glow radiated from within the top drawer. He slid it open and a bright light escaped, pushing the darkness aside. It took several seconds for his eyes to adjust to the brightness. A set of folders was highlighted for his attention. He grabbed up the files and stuffed them into his booty bag. At the first touch the strange light ceased. In the distant total darkness of the mine he could hear, no, feel a powerful humming. He had never detected any sounds other than the ones he made before. There definitely were more secretes concealed beyond his reach that was cloaked in the impenetrable dark. It made for a formidable deterrence.

 

On a hot, sweltering summer day in the desert of California the dust hung heavy in the air as the sun lightly touched the horizon and cast long shadows across the air base's housing complex.  A tall slender blond went to the front door of her humble abode. She leaned on the doorway and gazed out at the uniform, modular houses of the modest officers quarters. The only movement was the dust carried on the lazy breeze. She opened the screen slightly, smelling the hot, dry atmosphere, and thought to herself. This dry air is turning my skin into a lizard’s. She had been young once. But that was before her last birthday. Now she was only mature. She could still hear her son saying so. There was a new wrinkle at the corner of her eye to prove it. She didn’t mind her life. Though at times like this, she would fantasize about what her life would have been had she followed her career instead of her husband’s. Hell, in this environment she might as well have been in the Gobi desert digging up artifacts.

She called out, "Leo, dinner's ready!" She paused, not really expecting a response and called again, "Leo...dinner!"  She waved the dust from the air. She thought to herself. That boy, he's out of pocket again. She feared she would go mad if school didn’t start soon. Returning to her work, in the small brightly decorated kitchen that she worked so hard to liven up, she turned the almost ready potatoes. Through the steam, from the glass pot, she checked the large silver clock hanging above the halogen cooking surface and realized her husband was going to be late again, as usual. He kept such long hours. But she understood the pressures of required performance and being faced with deadlines. Her father pushed her so hard when she was in school, the thought of failing was simply not accepted as a possibility. That seamed long ago now. And to think she was wasting a Master’s degree. Her father would turn over in his grave if he knew. She stirred the potatoes again. She finished at the top of her class and really expected to continue and earn her P.H.D. But then her new husband received his orders to the Middle East. The stress proved too much so she dropped out of the program.

 Irritated, she traversed the room to the base-station radio set that sat on the small table in the corner. Her son and husband built the radio together during one of the rare slow-downs at the flight test center. Larra switched the frequency control to channel fourteen. While letting the transceiver warm up, Larra checked that all the settings were correct, the boys gave her such a rash when she didn't get it right. Larra keyed the microphone, "Base one, mobile two. Base one, mobile two." After no reply she turned the squelch down to a minimum. The set crackled and hissed as she keyed the microphone once more, "Base one, mobile two. Base one, mobile two respond please." Listening to the erratic popping from the speaker, negative thoughts raced through her mind. Base security had been very blunt about the consequences if her son were caught in a restricted area again.

From outside came the whaling sound of an ambulance and Larra could almost see her son in the back rapped in bandages from head to toe. The siren slowly drifted out of earshot.

Rapidly losing her patience, she griped the microphone firmly and almost shouted, "Base one to mobile two, respond young man!" Only the screeching radio answered her call.

 Staring thoughtfully at the speaker she mumbled to herself. “If that boy is out on the missile range again I'll kill him myself, if some jet jock doesn't do it for me. Well, he's probably down at that old mine. If I've told him once I've told him a thousand times.”

 In a last ditch effort to make contact Larra cranked the RF gain to the peg and keyed the microphone one final time. Speaking in her always clear, educated tone, she strained not to yell, "Leo, if your down at that mine you’ll be grounded for a week. You have got ten minuets to get your empennage home for dinner."

 She left the table and proceeded with the ritual of preparing dinner, she counted the seconds. Once the ten minuets were exhausted she returned to the radio. This time she went for broke and switched on the thousand watt linear booster.

 The thought crossed her mind, that even if the signal didn't reach him under-ground then at least the people in Mexico and half of the Reformed United States of America would know one ten year old boy was in big trouble.

 

Suddenly the hand held transceiver on his belt squawked to life. "Leo, if your not home in five minuets you'll think your butt is in napalm after I'm through with you and I'll call the M.P.'s... You remember what your father said he would do the next time that happens. Base one, out."

Leo finished arranging his gear exclaiming, "Oh-my-gosh! Mom's gunna' kill me for sure!"

He ran all the way to the mine entrance throwing caution to the wind at the bottomless pit where his trusty, rusty bicycle awaited his return. In his own mind even if he had fallen into the pit it would have been a quicker end to his impending judgment. During one of his earlier expeditions Leo kicked a piece of electrical conduit over the edge of the pit and never heard the expected clang at the bottom and there after he was convinced that there was no bottom at all. There was evidence of an elevator hoist and it surely must have been the express ride to hell. Leo pedaled at full speed across the desert sands. It was most of an hour before he arrived in front of his home panting and gasping for breath.

As he climbed off his bike he heard the approach of a flight of jets turning on final. Because of the screaming scramjets passing over head he could only see his angry mothers lips move as he climbed the few steps to the porch. Boy was he glad.

Leo had his mother’s eyes and his father’s face. His dirty hair was usually a light blonde but now covered with the dank mine’s dust it was a dirty brown, the same color as his father’s.

Once inside, his mother demanded, "Well Lt. Fearsome, just where have you been?"

Looking down at the sheepish little boy she could see a miniature version of her husband looking back at her. Her mood lightened only slightly.

               "I...I tried to call in but there's something wrong with my unit." He croaked in reply.

"Uh hu...well, lets take a look." She said with a suspicious glare.

               "Well...I...I took it over to Jim's and we fixed it over there." He said, looking down at the floor in fear that his ruse would be seen in his guilty face.

"We'll see what your father thinks of your bull-lony story. Now get in that bathroom and get cleaned up for your cold dinner.

"Perhaps you'd rather spend the next few days working around the house."

“Oh Mom.” Leo said, knowing he deserved more than just a few days for his disobedience. He went to the bathroom to check out his haul for the day and maybe wash his hands.

   At that moment the visa-view chirped its singsong tones. The proximity sensor diligently watched for someone to come to the machine and when Larra did, the image of Leo's father flickered into a bright high-resolution picture.

 Lt. Colonel Johnithan Fearsome was a gentle but commanding six foot three inch, two hundred forty ponder with light sandy brown, curly hair cut to regulation. His handlebar mustache was the constant center of harmless teases. In addition to being the Armed Forces Martial Arts heavyweight champion, he was the senior test pilot for the Air Force of the Reformed United States and also the most highly decorated combat pilot of the “Rag Head” wars of the 2020's.

"Hi love, just called to tell you I'll be late so don't hold dinner."

"Oh, thanks for the early call. It's already stone cold."

"I'm sorry dear, I got tied up in a briefing. You know, sometimes I wonder if Donnols is trying to kill the program."

"It's okay really. Leo's been a pill all day. Boy, will I be glad when school starts again." She brushed her soft hair from her face reviling the strong yet lovely portrait.

"Yah, I bet.”

“What do you mean about killing the program? You all have worked so hard.” Her brow wrinkled in thought.

“Oh, I don’t know. He just throws wrenches into the works sometimes. Hay, I have to go...oh, that reminds me. General Donnols wants us to go over to their house tomorrow night for cards."

"We sure are lucky they don't mind being beaten continuously. What time?" She said with a chuckle.

"He said about nineteen hundred."

"Okay, love you, bye." Larra said longingly.

"Bye, now." Johnithan saluted her as if she were the Chief of Staff.

Larra turned from the visa-view to find Leo standing behind her, face still grimy. "Well, Mom looks like it's just you and me for food again."

"Get in there and wash that face, you silly thing." She shook her head as she watched Leo hurry into the bathroom and wondered who he would become with so much mischief at hand.

Leo examined the papers he obtained at the mine. Several old style photos showed pilots that were involved in a secrete mission. The lead pilot was Wade Fearsome. He was standing next to an XB-70, high speed and long range test bed and was in full flight gear. This must have been in the nineteen sixties. No Fearsomes showed up on his X-plane pilot list other than his father, Leo knew them all by heart going all the way back to the Bell X-1. Aviation trivia was one of his and John’s favorite past times. He would have to look at this stuff in more detail later.

 

In hanger eighteen Lt. Colonel Fearsome and Major Randy (Rod) Phillips inspected the new top secret, prototype fighter code name "Have Hammer". The air superiority/anti-satellite orbital vehicle's design specification centered on the ability to take-off and land on standard, National Aerospace Plane, twenty thousand-foot runways. It would cruse at Mach four with dash speeds up to Mach six below ten thousand feet and Mach twenty-six plus at high altitude with low-earth orbit capability.

The operational atmospheric range on internal hydrogen-slurry fuel was four thousand miles plus optional weapons bay tanks to extend the atmospheric range to seven thousand miles. Duration in orbit was not to exceed forty-eight hours. Payload was to include all inventory missiles capability.

 The Colonel caught up with Rod after the day’s successful mission. He had been unable to attend the post flight briefing due to the meeting with the General. His interest was more than curiosity; he had a need to know. "Major, how about a summery on your post flight report?" The Colonel asked.

"Yes Sir. All prescribed objectives were accomplished without any failures to perform. The thrust vectoring programming change you ordered increased efficiency by five percent." The Major replied.

"Thanks, Rod how did it help with takeoff roll?"

"I'm not sure. Do you want me to get a report from telemetry control?"

"No, I'll do it myself. You coming to the tournament in the morning? It's my son's brown belt test." Johnithan said with that sparkle in his eye only a father has. "And besides I need someone in my corner for the exhibition match."

"Wouldn't miss it John. Are we through here?"

"I don't see why not. O' eight thirty at the coliseum?"

"I'll be there Colonel. What happened with General Donnols today? He looked like a well fed shark when he left."

“I’m not sure myself. He ordered me to audit the prime contractor again and to not proceed with flight testing until it was complete.” John said with a shrug.

“What does he expect you to find? I’ve never worked with a better group. They’re under budget and ahead of schedule but not for long if he keeps this crap up. I don’t know how you’ve kept this program rolling.”

“And they’ll stay that way if I have anything to do with it. I’m on my way over there now to get the audit started tonight. I have some over-time money left over from Phase One I was saving for a rainy day. With luck, we’ll be back in the air by next month.”

“He’s not on that material contamination thing again is he?” Rod asked with a raised eyebrow.

“No, I put that wild goose to bed once and for all with the X-ray diffraction analysis results. Even he couldn’t question double blind results from five different labs.”

“What a bull dog.” Rod said shaking his head.

“Easy there pard. He is in command and I’d hate to have to bust you for insubordination.” Johnithan looked over his shoulder as if watching for a spy.

 “Yah, that would blow. On second thought, would I get out of the audit oversight duty?” Rod saluted sharply and hurried out of the hanger walk through door.

Johnithan didn’t bother to answer. He returned the salute and shook his head with a smile. “Your dismissed, Major.” Johnithan could not figure out what the General would gain if the Have Hammer program were to be canceled. The general had nothing to lose, his position was secure, but how could he profit from it? The whole situation didn’t make any sense. Fearsome on the other hand would suffer dearly. The program was his responsibility and if heads were going to roll from failure it would be his first. John finally said out loud. “Over my dead body.”

John loitered in the hanger like a hungry wolf appreciating the awesome aircraft looming over him as though it were his pray. He anticipated the time when the flight envelope would be expanded to the point that it would be his turn to reach out to the stars and take the Hammer trans-atmospheric at last. But alas, that was still nine months on the development schedule. The disappointed pilot booted the nose gear tire as he left for home and his loving wife and son. As he departed he turned for one last look.

The Have Hammer's graceful, tail-planeless sloping lines of the fuselage appeared to have no cockpit canopy and mated with a thirty six foot, variable geometry wing span that telescoped to a full fifty feet for low speed maneuverability. Devious looking active canards on the nose gave it the look of a huge bat with fangs as the small forward wings drooped down slightly. Twin low drag, variable geometry intake nacelles flowed to the two, eighty thousand pound output, axial-flow hydrogen-slurry, turbo scram-jet engines and were coupled to wide angle thrust vectoring nozzles. The plane was coated in a stealthy, three tone gray camouflage and was a beautiful yet frightening site to behold. The four internal weapons bays provided an ample supply of carnage capability.

               John shook his head and thought as he turned to leave, Man, I'd hate to be on the receiving end of that. He knew that no machine could fully makeup for a poorly trained pilot but with this plane even a cadet could expect to give an F-22 handled by a veteran a run for his money and with the same veteran it would be unmatched in the skies.

               That night Leo studied his liberated goods in earnest. There wasn’t much on the pilot named Fearsome or of the others for than matter. Inside the reports it described how the Air Force covered up the crash of an XB-70 making it look as though it was an accident during a photo shoot. An F-104 Starfighter was caught in the currents surrounding the XB-70 and sucked up over the back, spun around one hundred eighty degrees and smashed into the center of the right wing, tearing off both vertical stabilizers and damaging the left wing tip as well. After several seconds of struggle to maintain control of the doomed plane it departed into a flat spin and only one of the pilots was able to eject just seconds before impact. But what really happened was an aircraft that was never photographed caused the crash. Witnesses described an aircraft of unknown design using some kind of weapon on it causing a mechanical failure. It was the only airframe to be totally lost but the program was quietly shut down and forgotten. It was the first time Leo came to understand that the government would do just about anything to hide the truth. He knew the stories about Roswell and Area 51. They were legend but now they seem to hold some truth. It was fun to think that his family had a connection to those legends.

 

               Leo practiced his katas every day in hopes of advancing to the brown belt in Tae Kwon Do. The judging panel would test very hard a young boy trying for such a high degree position. He also knew that he had to defeat an opponent in combat to prove he had mastered the techniques of that level. For a full hour after every workout he meditated on style and conquest for future success and mental centering.

               John taught Leo the path of the So Shin Do technique of meditation from the time Leo first showed interest in martial arts. Leo demonstrated control few ever attained even after years of study. John learned the So Shin Do path when he had toured in South East Asia from a Master of the lost art. As far as John knew he and his son were the last of the So Shin Do practitioners. In the way of the So Shin Do, masters would reach levels of consciousness that entered the realms of the paranormal. The technique was a combination of ancient Taoist yogic breathing, mediation and exercise methods with emphasis on acupressure patterns to direct bio-energy, but more than that it was a method of directing that energy with conscious intent of the spirit. Part of its very name means spirit way in Japanese. Its roots dated to over five thousand years and was believed to have been developed in secrete monasteries in Japan during the feudal pasts when Shogun ruled and only his philosophies were excepted and all others were criminal acts against the state, being caught practicing meant sure death. As a result the art was hidden and fell into obscurity passed down through family lines until the path led to the Fearsomes. The technique saved John’s bacon on many occasions during combat and test flights when superior concentration meant the difference between life and death. The ability to focus his mind while pulling G’s so high that other pilots would blackout allowed him to outmaneuver his foes sending them to their fiery deaths or regain control of experimental aircraft after it separated from its flight path and overcome other deadly conditions that threatened him.

The next morning Leo and John were up early going over advanced maneuvers for Leo's fight and doing yoga exercises to extend his flexibility. John was amazed how quickly Leo learned and knew he was a one in a million natural. Leo seemed to learn through osmoses, he only needed to see a technique demonstrated once and he could reproduce it with almost perfect precision. It had taken John most of five years to reach the brown belt and now Leo was about to obtain his in less than three.

It was already warm and the sun was just beginning too bath the base in golden light when Larra called the boys for breakfast. She prepared Leo’s favorite pancakes made with blueberries and cashews. Leo invented them when Larra had been in the hospital for minor surgery. At the table, Leo was very quite and removed. John watched his son quietly pick at his pancakes. John had no trouble remembering his first really important competition in his second year at the academy.

The gymnasium was packed with cadets and the sounds of excitement echoed off the whitewashed walls. Everywhere John turned someone was yelling for him to knock the other guy's block off. John hadn't wanted to fight his instructor but when his Captain discovered John had held a black belt for five years the Captain forced him into a demonstration match. Now that John was in the ring he was determined to win. John was in his prime and his instructor was several years older but had been competing for a very long time. After the dust had settled both fighters were in pain and exhausted but no one had won decisively, it marked the beginning of John's amateur fighting career and was a very important transitional point in his life.

John broke the silence, "We'd better eat light, don't you think Champ?"

"Yes Sir, I don't want to be weighted down." Leo said as he traced an intricate hand technique in the air.

"You still need your nourishment even if you are super mutant ninjas from outer space." Larra said with a smile.

"Oh, Mom." The boys chorused in harmony.

“Hay Dad, you ever hear of a pilot named Wane Fearsome?”

“Sure that was your Great Grandfather.”

“What did he do?”

“He flew SR-71’s and TR-1’s for the CIA.”

“Wasn’t the TR-1 similar to a U-2?”

“That’s right.”

“The SR-71 was that really fast one, wasn’t it? The Blackbird I think.”

“Mach 3.5 cruse.” John held his hand out and Leo slapped it.

“Did he ever fly the XB-70?”

“Oh, you mean the North American Aviation, Valkyrie. Man, what a plane. It was designed as a high-speed long-range bomber. Cost the Russians plenty. They developed the Mig-25 just to counter it. Then we ended up not even fielding the damn thing. Honey,” He turned to his wife. “It had wing tips that folded down sixty five degrees at high speed to produce compression lift so that it could fly at higher altitudes. Let’s see, first flight was in…1964 and last flight was in 1969. It had the best lift to drag ratio of anything designed up to that time. It was the first plane to cruse at mach 3, publicly anyway.”

Larra just nodded her head as she tended the pancakes. She rarely heard the details of the lessons on aviation history. Not that she didn’t care, she had just heard it all before at one time or another.

John looked at his son wondering where he was getting those questions. “I don’t remember Wane ever being involved with development programs. But he could fly anything with wings. It was said that he flew the 747 carrying the Space Shuttle once when the real pilot got sick. Now why he was even on the plane to begin with is a mystery.”

“That’s not the only one.” Leo said as the family got up from the table to leave.

“You’ll have to tell me about it some time.” John rubbed his boy’s hair.

Leo wasn’t ready to confess his ventures into restricted areas again.

The family soon left for Los Angeles where the tournament was to be held. John made sure that his shotgun was loaded and locked in its slot along the driver’s door of the dark brown electric van. The shotgun traveled any time the family did. There had been a recent increase in insurgents from the south and the gangs were stepping up hit and run strikes along the highways leading into L.A. and a Fearsome wasn't going to go down without a fight.

The ride in the electric cruiser was smooth and quite with only the soft hum of the motors and occasional bump in the ceramic road. There was no way of knowing when they left one city limit and entered another because it was solid with buildings the entire distance from Edwards Air Force Base to L.A.

From the back seat Leo watched as the scene scrolled by. In the distance he could see several gun-ship helicopters circling an area hosing it with rapid fire cannons. Only after a bellowing cloud of black smoke rose above the skyline, did the choppers cease their attack.

"Those dirt bags won't be so cocky next time. Will they Leo?" The Colonel said looking at his son in the rear view mirror.

"No doubt." Leo could almost feel the stick in his hands as he envisioned himself strafing the gang hoards.

As they pulled into the packed multi-level civic center parking lot, Leo got a strong rush of adrenaline that sent a chill up his spine that was triggered by the thought of reaching his hard sought goal. They spiraled up to the top level where they found a parking slot and joined the crowd that was funneling across the sky-bridge into the coliseum. The coliseum gleamed like a giant pearl in the mid-morning sun. This event was one of the biggest in California and was a good place to see the top competition for the different championships, even though there were no titles on the line.

Leo and John had pre-registered via the Internet so they only needed to check in with the judges and obtain their locker numbers then change into their uniforms. The locker room was packed with males of all ages who had come from all over California to test their skills and become ranked in the national listings. Leo was at the far end of the huge locker room and couldn’t even see his father as he slipped into his traditional costume that bore his family logo across the back. The logo was made up of an open hand over a closed fist forming the top of a triangle, the arms sloped down forming two sides with a staff making the third side across the bottom, an eye between brain hemispheres was in the center of the triangle. He recognized some of the other people from the events he had attended in the past. He tipped his head with respect as he made eye contact with those that showed recognition. Leo made his way to the kata test mats and could hear the crowds respond to the exhibition fights that were being carried out on the upper level of the coliseum, that was where John would be by now working through the elimination portion of the day’s activities. If Leo passed the kata test he would go there next as well.

After waiting behind a long line of students that grew longer throughout the day Leo finely met his judge. The short Asian women looked at him with a frown of doubt as she examined his test request. Her hair was pinned in a bun atop her head and she wore a belt that was black with four white slashes at the ends. Leo bowed deeply to her and she returned it with a shallow tip of her head and called out the katas in order of progression. When Leo had performed the last required style she ordered him to demonstrate the different kicks and punches in a series that started with the simple to the advanced. Before she stopped she had progressed into techniques that were delving into the levels of the black belt. She hardly seemed impressed that Leo never faltered even when taxed beyond the required techniques. Sweat streamed down Leo’s face and he was sucking air past his teeth laboriously. Without warning she declared him passed the kata test and placed an adhesive backed sticker on his uniform that allowed him access to the combat test and the upper level of the coliseum. Leo looked at her in surprise and she bowed deeply and smiled at him as though she was his best friend, at that point she surly was.

Johnithan advanced through the elimination bouts without harm and Leo was surprised to learn that three hours had passed sense he had left the musk smell of the locker room. Larra congratulated Leo on his effort and reminded him of the next step to his brown belt. “You looked good out there kid. Do you think you’re up to the combat test?”

“He can handle a fifteen rounder. Can’t ya boy.” Rod said as he punched Leo on the shoulder.

“Hay, Uncle Rod!” Leo shouted with a confident grin. Leo wasn’t as sure as his face portrayed. His feet felt like lead weights and his hands were like bricks.

“You’ll be fine Son.” John said as if he had read Leo’s mind. He knew exactly how Leo felt, he had been there many times before.

They took a break for launch and ate light and drank water to keep their strength and fluids in the green. After which Johnithan sat Leo down and talked him into a trance like meditation.

Leo found himself in a cool lake with blue waters that supported him like an air mattress. As the light waves of refreshing coolness lapped across him his fatigue faded until he was totally at rest and had slept a full night’s worth. Just as suddenly cumulus clouds gathered and continued to build and he drew strength from them. Soon the clouds were a ragging storm and with every strike of lighting Leo became more powerful until it seemed as though he could defeat an army single handedly.

When Leo opened his eyes he could hear the throngs of people around him and was almost surprised to find them there. “How do you feel?” John asked him. It was time for Leo’s combat test and the judge was motioning him to his staging circle on the mat.

“Great, thanks Dad.”

“Get em, Leo!” Rod said.

“Be careful Honey.” Larra said as she hugged him.

“Oh Mom.” Leo’s cheeks turned a bright red.

 John strapped Leo's gloves and pads on while trying to keep his son's attention off the other boy, who snarled every time Leo looked over. Leo’s state of relaxation started to slip away as his surroundings soaked in. He tried to control his anxiety but all he could see was the boy across the mat, the way he spat into a bucket and wiped his chin with the back of his hand. He looked mean. Leo became so nervous that the world seemed to close in around him as he stepped onto the mat. The moment of truth for Leo had arrived and he had to defeat the large, tough looking young man that stood at arm’s length. He was about to explode with anxiety as he waited for the judge to step onto the mat. The blood rushing through his ears was all that he could hear as the judge began the match.

The taller, more mature boy made the first move with a front kick at eye level followed by an advancing back-fist, reverse punch combination.

Leo parried the kick, sidestepped the fisted attack and countered with a spinning back-kick, which landed in the ribs of the other boy. Leo was scored a full point and they returned to middle court.

Apparently unaffected by the blow to his side, the young man resumed his attack upon the signal from the judge to start. He threw a series of over hand strikes with lighting speed, one of which landed and brought a flood of bright red blood streaming from Leo's nose. He was awarded a full point.

John had to hold Larra back to keep her from stepping across the white line that marked the out-of-bounds to help her son.

"If I weren’t a lady I'd slap a hair lip on that bully!" She said as she covered her eyes.

John just smiled and said. "Yah, he's damn lucky he's not fighting you." Rod held back an urge to laugh.

The doctor was called out to determine if the match could continue. After examining Leo vary closely and being able to stop the bleeding he decided to let them resume their contest.

Leo stooped to adjust his shin pad and catch his breath.

His father told him. "Leo, it's okay. Center yourself. Don't let him hit you like that again and everything will be fine."

Leo thought that was about the dumbest thing he had ever heard. He remembered the time back at their work out room when he had gotten too cocky and his dad had knocked his head off and he had just fought that much harder. This time was no different and this guy was a lot smaller than his father.

"Kick his butt Leo!" Rod yelled shaking his fist.

With his newfound determination he stepped back onto the mat with a round of cheers from the crowd.

The judge gave the signal to begin and Leo attacked with a ridge-hand strike followed by a reverse punch. His attack was effectively fended off. Leo continued the assault with a stepping sidekick that put his opponent off balance. Leo pressed forward with a front leg snap-kick that caught the other boy out of position and connected so hard Leo thought he had broke his foot, instead it had broken his adversary's jaw. The boy was laid out on the mat as the doctor made his examination and stopped the match. Leo was given a full point for scoring the hit making his total score two to one, which gave him victory and his new belt. There was a mix of positive yells and boo’s coming from the crowd as the judge raised Leo’s hand above his head. Leo bowed to the judges and the other boy’s family who had rushed to his aid then jumped high into the air with elation.

Larra ran from her seat and grabbed her son with loving affection and said to him, "Are you all right Leo? I'm so proud of you. You'll eat steak tonight."

Tears formed in John's eyes as he opened his mouth to speak but only croaking sounds emerged. He roughed up his boy's hair as he hugged him hard enough to make Leo gasp for air.

"Thanks Mom, Dad, I love you both so much." Leo said softly.

With the excitement of Leo's accomplishment behind them they pulled together for their next challenge. The military had sponsored martial competition for years in an effort to bring ever more aggressive recruits into the ground forces as a result many members of the military were active in all levels of amateur and professional contact sports. Most of the lead ranking, martial arts competitors were also combat veterans on active duty.

John's most dangerous opponent was Gary Cortez, a NCO in the Special Forces who had virtually walked through all of his adversaries. Gary was known in all of the cyber news as the “One to watch”. He was ruthless. Fans referred to him as a practitioner. He had studied around the globe and enjoyed displaying his exotic forms. He was more than a stand up fighter or a wrestler or a martial artist, he was an expert by every definition in the book. He had run out of serious competition in the pro circles and found artist in the amateur leagues. Fearsome was his next target. Their match would be the last one and the highlight of the tournament.

Rod made his way through the other competitors and spectators to congratulate Leo and to help psych-up John. "Hey, well executed moves kid!" Rod rubbed Leo's head knocking Leo's hair into his face. Rod turned to John. "You ready to punish that army flatfoot?"

Rod had known the Fearsomes ever sense the last “Rag Head” war and was John’s wingman during that time. He was of medium build and had a boyish face that made him look much younger than he really was. His short premature graying hair always looked like it needed combing and would have been quite curly if it were aloud to grow out.

John said without even the slightest amount of apprehension. "I intend to make him whine all the way back to Fort Bening."

"Sergeant Cortez has requested Freestyle rules. You going to go with it Colonel?"

"Why not?" He shrugged his shoulders.

"Why not? Why not? I'll tell you why not. That guys a killer. He might fight by the rules but he won't hesitate to use dangerous locks or holds. What if he breaks a bone? How will you fly then?"

"Look Rod, I've had some two hundred matches in the last fifteen or so years and not all of them fought fair. I can take care of myself. Okay?"

"Just be careful Colonel." He put a concerned hand on John's shoulder showing the friendship that went back to the days of the “Rag Head” wars. It wasn't the first time Rod had seen the Colonel take risks. Back when they fought together in Syria, John was known as the "Man of Flame" because he refused to disengage from the enemy until his plane was either burning or the enemy's was. Needless to say, John kept Air and Sea Rescue busy on a regular basis.

"I thought you were supposed to get me charged up not burn me out."

Rod shrugged his shoulders. "Since when do you need anyone to light your fire?"

John punched Rod on the shoulder with an affectionate tap.

The public address system boomed the announcement of the main event. "Ladies and gentlemen the moment we've all been waiting for is about to begin. This is a non-title bout scheduled for three regulation rounds. The three knockdown rule applies. Much to the enjoyment of all, this is a Freestyle contest. Will the competitors please report to your assigned corners?"

John headed toward the main event ring with an air of confidence. Larra held Leo back as she let her husband go striding through the crowd without them. She always had the need to be separated from him at least physically when he took risks with his health. She knew there was nothing she could do to stop him and she was more afraid to try. She could easily remember the pit in her stomach the day he shipped out on his first combat tour of duty and the lecture she had received when she tried to get him to retire his commission. She could also see how much Leo was becoming like his father and wouldn’t risk the pain to change it.

Once in the ring the introductions were commenced. "In the blue corner. Weighing in at an even two hundred forty pounds. The two-time Armed Forces Heavyweight Champion with twenty-five consecutive knockouts for a total of sixty-six wins, two draws, no losses. Lieutenant Colonel Johnithan Fearsome!" The crowd roared with approval and there was a long pause waiting for the crowd to settle.

"In the red corner weighing in at two hundred thirty seven pounds, founder of Praying Mantis Kenpo, five time National Amateur Heavyweight Champion, Two Thousand Twenty five Olympic Gold Medallist with an impressive amateur record of one hundred fifty five wins, no draws, no losses. Staff Sergeant Gary "The Dark One" Cortez.” Again the crowd exploded in waves of inpatient expectation.

The two warriors met briefly at center ring long enough to receive the typical explanation of rules by the judge which neither of them heard, and a quick bow to each other and the judges. They stepped back, faced off and the match was on.

The first round passed without much action both men cautiously sizing the other up. Fainted and pulled faked moves attempting to draw the other into a mistake filled the seconds. The crowd sat in silence holding their collective breath waiting to see who would fall into the trap first. When the bell rang closing the round a loud gasp filled the coliseum.

The second round however was much different. The bell rang and Cortez almost ran to Fearsome's corner growling like an animal and attacked with a furious volley of kicks and punches.

Fearsome parried and blocked until Cortez left himself open to a counter-punch, which snapped his head back showering the audience seated within five rows with sweat and blood from above his eye.

Modern civilization was not that much different than those of ancient Rome or any of the other blood thirsty cultures and these people were very hungry. They leaped from their seats almost diving in competition for the blood that sprang forth.

Undaunted Cortez came back with an elbow that made it through John's defenses to his Solar Plexus that knocked the breath and his mouthpiece out. Cortez continued to pound Fearsome until the bell finally saved him.

Fearsome staggered back to his corner breathing laboriously. "Man, he almost knocked me out." He said gasping for air. Sweat poured from every pore as he fought for control of his body through the pain.

"I see that. Swallow." Rod commanded as he squirted water into John's mouth. "Don't let him get inside you, he's using Kenpo so watch out for more of those inside elbows and knees. Now get him!" He slapped John on the back.

"I think I'm getting to old for this shit." John said as he stood to return to battle.

The bell rang and again The Dark One met Fearsome on his own ground slamming every hand, foot, elbow or knee he could into John.

Just when it looked like it was all over, the champion in Fearsome came to life. John stepped through a doorway in his mind and the world took the back seat as he handed back with each gloved fist payment in full for that which was distributed across his body. He was making a historic comeback. John could see in slow motion, Cortez’s hand met his wrist at exactly matched velocity, and remained in contact as he recoiled. John was only aware of the contact because of his heightened senses. He was powerless to break the hold and the resistance that wasn’t there. It was as if Cortez had fused himself to Johnithan and when the force reached an apex he found himself flying over the top rope out of the ring and crashing into the mob of people that had (luckily for him) rushed the ring in hysterical jubilation.

Rod thought John was injured in the fall and threw in the towel ending the match. As the blood stained terry cloth left his fingers he knew he had made the wrong choice.

John rolled to his feet with fluid motion, infuriated with Rod's action, and stormed over to where Rod, Larra and Leo waited.

"What did you think you were doing?" John roared at Rod, who took several steps back while Larra moved between them.

"Now John, calm down! We all thought you were too injured too continue." Larra pleaded in defense of Rod.

"I'll see you all at the cruiser." John said, coming down slightly from his rage. He turned away and stomped off.

"Hey, old man, want to finish this now or wait for the Armed Forces Championship." Gary called to John with a laughing sneer.

"Up yours, ass hole!" Leo yelled back and gestured a crude sign language with his hand.

"Leo!" Larra scolded.

Rod gave Leo the thumbs up when Larra wasn't looking. And Leo returned the signal to Rod.

 



                                                                                       Chapter 2

                                                                          A Long Way From Home

 

Nine months passed and school was in full swing, so was the Have Hammer program. The flight performance envelope expanded on schedule and was safely under budget. Johnithan had been at the controls for the last two test flights; ever sense the operational altitude had exceeded eighty thousand feet MSL, above Mean Sea Level. The Have Hammer’s engines had been up-graded to their final configuration that included the advanced scram-induction boosters and the direct hydrogen flow accelerators that inject hydrogen slush directly into the afterburner stage. With the package in place the Hammer would be capable of extra-atmospheric flight modes and sustained low-level, hypersonic speeds.

"This is the Hammer taxing into position and ready for takeoff. Do you copy? Over."

"Anvil, to Hammer. You are rocking our sox off. All indicators are green. You are cleared for takeoff on our mark."

 

Leo was in the school chemistry lab packing his solid rocket engine for the rocket club. He was thinking about Wane Fearsome, it had frustrated him when he was unable to obtain any information about him on the Internet. It was as though he had never existed. Only a birth certificate was listed for him. He had found him in a photograph with a group of early astronauts and he was in Air Force colors but Leo couldn’t make out the shoulder patch or rank. He tossed the puzzle around in his mind several times when the building shook from an unknown force.

Leo thought. Oh boy not another earthquake.

The chemistry lab door burst open and Jim, a chubby kid with a good sense of humor, came sliding through. "Leo! Me and the guys were in the electronics lab listening to today’s flight test on Sidney’s new radio and it sounded like the flight might have run into trouble." Even though security was tight there was little that actually happened on base that the officer’s wives didn’t know about and if they knew then so did everybody else. Rarely did really important information leek but pillow talk was inevitable. Leo heard that there was a “big” test today and that his father would be at the helm.

Leo's heart sank to the bottom of the ocean and his stomach clawed at his throat. As tears formed in his eyes, he ran from the room yelling back. "You better not be playing games Jim, my dad's flying today!" He ran all the way home trying not to think of the unthinkable, the terrible possibilities, that threatened to break his heart. His father often talked about the dangers of his job and the possibility of war but it always seemed like he was speaking about someone else. Leo never considered how he would react if his dad were gone forever. The thought scarred the blood right out of his face.

As Leo arrived home, a base motor pool car came screeching to a stop in front of his house. He ran inside panting to find his mother waiting with her purse in hand.

"They're here for us, let’s go Leo." She said with an expression of pain on her face, Leo had never seen before. He was still trying to catch his breath as they entered the rear compartment of the staff car.

When Larra met John she thought he was indestructible. She would watch him as he performed feats of courage and it would make adrenaline shoot through her body but as they grew older she began to see their mortality. John's tours in the Middle East during the Rag Head Wars had left her an emotional derelict. And when John requested return tours, time after time, she knew that all she could do was wait and pray for him to survive until the end of the conflict. Now this conflict threatened to break her once and for all. She didn’t need to hear the explanations or the apologies and sympathy would never make up for the years spent knowing that this day would come.

Without saying a word Leo began preparing for the news he knew was coming, as he knew his mother was. The short ride in the dark blue staff car was deathly silent except for the soft wine of the electric motors. Leo had never been in the administration complex before and starred wide eyed at the modern architecture. Most of the buildings were tall sweeping skyscrapers but the one they approached was low lying and more closely resembled a bunker.

When they arrived at the administration building General Donnols was waiting for them in the lobby. The lobby had a low ceiling and was exposed dull concrete with thin gray carpet, which did not convey a warm invitation. Pictures and models of the lineage of the X-planes were around the parameter of the room, under different circumstances they would have been interesting to Leo but he hardly even noticed them today. After a solemn greeting the General invited them down into his subterranean office. They went through the security scanner booth and submitted to genetic identification verification after which they were issued a pass they wore prominently on their chests.

The ride in the elevator was hardly incredible except of the length of time it took to travel into depths of the underground complex. The doors finely opened exposing the General’s office. Leo looked around the large room, his gaze stopping on an oak display case filled with brightly colored ribbons with gold and silver medals hanging from them, some of which Leo recognized from his father's case in their workout room at home. He was tempted to mention the fact that his father had more medals in his display case than the General but thought better of it.

               When the silence was broken the General spoke in a soft, matter of fact tone as he sat behind his large hard wood desk. "Larra, I'm so sorry to have to tell you this, but at O'nine fifteen hours, the plane your husband was flying malfunctioned and was destroyed. We're still searching the splash-down area but there's no chance that he survived, not from that altitude and speed."

The words were too much for Leo to bear. His emotions exploded from him. "You don't know he's dead! Don't say that about my daddy!" Larra rapped her arms tightly around her son trying to squeeze the pain out of both of their hearts.

Choked with tears, she asked. "Can we hear the flight transcript General?"

"We don't usually allow civilians access to that information but because we go so far back I'll make the exception. Are you sure you want to Larra?"

"Yes, I have to know what happened." She said sniffing back tears.

"Very well. One minute while I set it up with telemetry control."

After what turned out to be several minutes on the visa-view the General made the declaration. "Larra, they're ready. They're going to patch it through to us now." He pushed one of the brightly lit buttons on the visa-view control pad. "This is audio only."  

"Chase One, to Anvil. I am in position."

"Anvil to Chase One, roger that. Anvil to Hammer, come to full power and release for liftoff."

"Hammer acknowledged. Throttle setting, one hundred percent. Power response nominal. Releasing breaks now."

"Telemetry control to Anvil, acceleration: six G's; angle of attack: thirty degrees; velocity at mission time three seconds: point two five-mach. We have lift-off."

"Hammer to Anvil, altitude five thousand feet. Rate of climb, fifty thousand feet per minute. Indicated velocity, two point two six-mach and increasing. Changing angle of attack to seventy five degrees."

"Anvil to hammer, we confirm your data. Turn to heading two eight three for your window."

"Hammer, coming to two eight three. Power now at ninety percent, reducing throttle to ninety percent."

"Telemetry control to Hammer, mission time four minutes. We now show acceleration, six G's. Angle of attack seventy five degrees. Velocity, eight-mach. Distance down range, twenty-five nautical miles.

"Hammer to Anvil, five seconds to throttle back, mark."

"Anvil we copy."

"Hammer to Anvil, Throttle set at sixty percent. Power level at sixty percent. Acceleration steady. Velocity twenty two-mach. Altitude two hundred twenty thousand feet."

"Telemetry control to Hammer, we confirm your data."

       Several minutes passed and all was going as planned the technical chatter continued between the ground stations and the airborne units when at fifteen minutes mission time something went very wrong.

"Telemetry control to Anvil, we're experiencing technical difficulty. I have a Red light…zebra six. We've lost the Hammer data link. Do you still have com?"

"Hammer to Anvil, I'm showing a decrease of velocity of three percent. Am increasing throttle to sixty five percent to compensate."

"Anvil to telemetry control, our link just went down, stand-by. Anvil to Hammer, begin abort sequence. Do you copy? Repeat…Do you copy?"

"Hammer to chase one, can you confirm that blue glow?"

"Chase one to Anvil, something's going on with Hammer, am transmitting video now. What do you make of it?"

"Anvil to Hammer, descend to ejection altitude and pop it. Acknowledge."

"Hammer to Anvil, have lost all control, emergency engine shut down not engaging… Am experiencing severe vibration, the ship is breaking up..."

"Anvil to hammer, do you read?"

"Chase one to Anvil, the Hammer just exploded. Major debris sections over area alpha four four delta."

"Roger chase one, attention all emergency units, stand-by for convergence coordinates."

"Well, Larra that's all there is really."

"What about the blue light?" Leo asked.

"Probably just temperature inversion." The General dismissed it with a wave of his hand.

"He was so calm, right to the end. Thank you General." Larra said with a sob.

“I don’t believe it! You’re covering it up just like they did with Wane Fearsome!”

"Now son there’s no cover ups. You’re just upset.” The general said with a tone of apathy.

“Leo don’t make this any harder than it already is.” Larra burst into tears.

“Patty is waiting at your house with some dinner. If there's anything we can do we'll be there for you both." He helped Larra out of her chair and escorted them to the security station. He wondered how Leo could have known about the fate of Wane Fearsome. That had been a kept secret for almost a hundred years.

It was a quiet ride and nothing was said all the way home. When they arrived several of their neighbors and a visa-news crew was gathered outside their home. "Boy, news travels fast around here. Hu, Mom?"

"I'm afraid so Leo."

As soon as their feet hit the ground a reporter shoved a visa-corder into Larra’s face "Mrs. Fearsome, how do you feel now that your husband has been added to the list of senseless Department of Defense deaths?"

"Get out of our way, or I'll smash your face." Leo declared with a growl. They pushed past the reporter and hurried up the steps and into the shelter of the house.

"Kid thinks he's tough." The reporter said with a laugh. His over styled hair hung like a glazed helmet in the hot sun.

A neighbor standing nearby retorted with a glare. "That kid happens to be a karate expert ass hole."

"Hey, that's great human interest stuff. What else do you know about them?"

"Takeoff jerk!" The neighbor yelled. "Can't you just leave them alone?" He turned and walked away.

By the time Larra and Leo made it inside, Patty Donnols was talking to the visa-view. "...well I don't care who let them through the gate. They better be gone before I get a hold of my husband or you'll be in deep sh..., well, you'll be in deep."

"Yes ma'am, I'll dispatch a squad immediately. I apologize for any inconvenience. My name is Sergeant Dibbs please contact me personally if you have any more problems."

"I'm sure." She disconnected the hook up with a smirk. She turned to her best friend and gave Larra a long hug. Patty was shorter than Larra with a light build and short brown hair shaved up the neck. All the time Larra had known her, she had always worn silly horn rimmed, plastic frame glasses, straight from the nineteen sixties. After being an officer’s wife for thirty-five years she knew all the tricks for getting what she wanted done. Despite her sometimes battleaxe persona she had a true heart of gold. Therefore she used every tactic and weight of her position to help the families of service men under her husband's command when they were in need.

"Larra, I'm sorry about that mess outside, I was in the kitchen and didn't notice. Are you all right?"

"I'll be okay, thanks. I just need time to think and make some calls."

"Why don't you have Leo come stay with us for a few days." She patted Leo on the shoulder.

"No, I think we need each other right now." Larra looked Leo in the eye and they could feel the pain radiating from each other.

"Of course. Well, food is on the table and call me if you need anything at all."

"Thanks again, Pat."

"Don't mention it kid." Patty gave Larra a hug that she had given to others, a time too many and sniffed back tears as she hurried out of the house. It was her unspoken duty to console the survivors of her husband’s subordinates that were lost in the line of duty. It had been a long time sense she had to do it and she was out of practice. During the wars she would go through the motions three sometimes four times in a week. She had almost convinced herself that she had forgotten how bad it hurt to see her friends destroyed like this. Patty got into her small speeder and sat there quietly thinking to herself. Without warning she bawled out loud.

After Patty left the sound of the food storage unit cycling was the only sound to be heard for quite some time until Leo said. "Well mom, looks like it's just you and me for real." They sat in the living area holding each other in silent reflection. Larra knew she wouldn’t be sleeping without the aid of pharmaceuticals for a long time to come.

 

The next few days brought challenges Larra had hoped she would never have to face but she had always known the possibility was there and now she was determined to carry on with her life. Larra kept telling herself that she was ok and that she and Leo would be fine but just under the surface was more fear of the future. She was tired of being afraid. Afraid when her husband would fight, afraid when her husband would fly, afraid when her son would grow up. Her fear was going to have to change, change into determination or she would not survive this disaster. She could feel her father’s presents very strong sometimes and had used the added confidence it gave her to get past the hardships of the past. She hoped that same confidence would not let her down now.

The Air Force took care of the memorial services and provided a monument since no body was ever recovered. The search for his body had been called off after only twenty-four hours. The search for the wreckage would continue for months or until all the plane was recovered. There was little doubt that all of it would be found. It was only a matter of time. The Air Force posthumously promoted John to a full bird Colonel and awarded him the Airman's Medal (it was his seventh).

 At the memorial site there was so many people Leo couldn't count them all, from officers to enlisted men, even a few civilians. Complete strangers would approach him and offer their thoughts as to how good a guy John was or how much a hero he had been. The hole time Leo was thinking that some of them must have known his father better than he himself had. His father had been gone for long periods of time on tours of deployment when he was in a fighter squadron. And when he became a test pilot he would go to Dryden for stints lasting weeks.

A tall man wearing a black suit and tie sat down next Leo and without looking at him spoke in a soft even tone, looking straight ahead. “Leo, I met your father many years ago. We were flying out of a secrete base in the desert. I had made a bombing run and had gone in to low. The blockbuster I crapped blew my tail feathers off and I was able to eject about ten miles down range of the target. Needless to say, the locals weren’t too happy with me and were looking to put me down for good. I was shooting it out with them from the trench my plane had dug when it went in and they were about to flank me. I had made my peace with God and was ready to meet him face to face, when this fighter jock strafed those bastards. I didn’t hear him coming and neither did any of them. Their world just went to shit all around them as the rounds from his cannon hit. He was so low when he over-flew me that I thought he was going to crash as well. The bastards that were still alive peppered him with small arms fire and he was trailing smoke badly. But the mad man pulled it up and did half a Cuban eight and came right down on them again. That sent those sand munchers pack’n. He loitered for almost an hour dodging shoulder fired missiles and ground fire all the while smoke’n like a cigar until the F/A-18’s showed up. A Search and Rescue Blackhawk finely picked me up. When I figured out who he was and tracked him down, I tried to say thanks but you know what he said?” Leo shook his head no. “He said to keep it out of the dirt next time. And walked away. Now I’m tell’n you. That was a man I’d trade places with right now if I could.” When Leo looked up at the man’s face he could see tears flowing freely down his cheeks and his bottom lip quivered as he stood. The man pivoted smartly and snapped and long salute toward Leo then disappeared into the crowd.

“There are a lot of those stories around here today, Leo.” Rod said so quietly just Leo could hear. “Your old man refused an Airman’s for that man’s favor. He told me he was just do’n what was right.”

“He never mentioned any of those things. Everything’s always a secret. And you can’t believe a word that comes out officially.” Leo made quotations in the air with his fingers. “I think General Donnols is a liar, I think there was more to it than just an accident.”

Rod didn’t answer, even if he agreed he couldn’t say a thing, after all it was classified.

Rod stood by to lend support and Leo tried to keep him as close to him as possible. Leo knew his father was gone forever and he needed someone as a surrogate and Rod was the best man for the job. Leo had never seen more brass in one place, the list of high ranking was long and it took forever for them all to pass by the reception line to give them their condolences.

General Donnals gave a eulogy that was long and arduous. Johnithan accomplished so much and was loved and respected by so many. There was not enough that could be said about the man who had devoted his life to his country.

At the end of the ceremony four scramjets did a fly-by in the missing man formation. When the plane fell out of position and streaked into the sun leaving the other three to fly on alone Larra fell to her knees and sobbed. Rod knelt beside her and Leo and hugged them close as he cried too. A twenty-one-gun salute in honor of John’s sacrifice in the performance of his duty boomed as the planes screeched out of sight. As the last shot was fired the band played Taps. It seemed as though even the sky shed tears for their fallen friend and colleague.

It all seemed like an incredibly bad dream. Time just crept by as if in slow motion. Everything anyone said was muffled and distant, all was a fog in the boy's mind. He was more an observer than a participant.

After the ceremonies the Donnols had Leo and Larra over for dinner at their luxurious condo (the privilege of rank) in the mountains just east of the dry lakebed where the base was located. The General asked Larra. "Have you decided what you're going to do now?"

"Yes, you know about the three hundred thousand credit, life insurance policy John had. That will make sure we don't go hungry and cover Leo's college and we've got his pension. I can never say thank you enough for pushing that grade promotion through for us.”

“Don’t mention it. He was due, the paper was already in the pipe.” The General said. General Donnols had been pushing for Johnithan’s promotion for several months. John earned the grade many times over but just had to do the time at rank before he could be moved up the chain. Donnols had reason to want Johnithan advanced out of the flight rotation. If Fearsome had been promoted sooner, Donnols could have reassigned him to other duties. Something where Fearsome didn’t affect the program so directly, some safe position flying a desk where his decisions couldn’t keep things flowing. Programs seemed to advance too fast for Donnols’ liking when Fearsome was in charge of them. Donnals was sure that Have Hammer would die with Fearsome even at the mature stage of the development program. He would see to that.

“I've talked it over with my brother in Chicago and he thinks after Leo finishes this school year, we can move up there and he can get me on at the Museum of Natural History. He knows the curator."

"That's right you do have a degree in... What is it, archeology?" Patty said interjecting.

Larra nodded. "I got my masters when John was stationed in Cambridge and I thought I might go for my doctorate if I have the time."

"So what do you think of all this Leo?" The General asked trying to bring Leo into the conversation.

"What ever, I just wish my dad were here." Leo pouted lugubriously. He pushed the food around his plate with his fork.

"We all do Leo." Larra said putting her hand on his arm. She looked at the crystal chandler above the table focusing on the refracted light as if it were her own little rainbow from God.

The months that followed did little to ease the heartache even Larra’s friends seemed to become more distant. She didn’t know if she had pushed them away or if it was just too uncomfortable for them. All she really knew was that it was time for a change. Her family needed to get away from the base, away from military life and strike out on their own and start anew.