Exiled Omnibus by James Hunt Read Free Book Online Page A

other individual driving around. Eric figured everyone else was out of fuel.
     
    The weekly ration shipments had no doubt ceased since the president’s announcement, so anybody that was still here was either hoarding, was trying to eke out what little life they had left, or had completely given up.
     
    Most of the people probably tried to get out despite the president’s warning that they would be deported back to their regions. Eric just hoped there were enough people left to fight.
     
    The base security was pretty slack when he made it back. It wasn’t due to lack of effort, just lack of personnel. He parked his motorcycle in one of the hangars and walked over to the administration building, where he’d check in before heading to Phoenix for his assignment.
     
    Eric was surprised and delighted to see more men turn up. They were a mix of veterans, retirees, and new recruits that hadn’t even gone through basic yet.
     
    “Nothing like some on-the-job training,” Eric muttered to himself.
     
    There was only one clerk handling the paperwork, so it took a while for Eric to finally make it to the front. The boy was attempting to do four things at once but wasn’t very successful.
     
    “Skeleton crew today, huh?” Eric asked.
     
    The boy cracked a smile, then found Eric’s paperwork and checked him off.
     
    “Here you are, Lieutenant,” he said. “You’re all set.”
     
    “Thanks, kid.”
     
    Eric put his aviators on when he walked back outside. On his way to the aircraft carrier, Eric couldn't stop thinking about Brooke's phone call. Even though he was sure she had made it out, he still felt guilty.
     
    Brooke’s husband, Jason, had saved his life in Iraq. He never got a chance to return the favor, even though he knew Jason never expected it. Since he couldn't find Brooke, the next best thing was to help protect the country she was living in. And the best way for him to do that was to make sure the Mexican military didn’t penetrate their defenses.
     
    When the carrier moved from port and gained the speed necessary for the pilots to take off, Eric zipped up his CWU 27/P flight suit, stuffed the flight plan into his top pocket, and headed out toward his aircraft. There was never a time when he walked out onto that flight deck and didn’t get a shot of adrenaline when he saw his bird.
     
    The F/18 Hornet was originally deployed in the late seventies, and it had been ruling the skies since. The aircraft was equipped with two 17,700-pound-thrust F404-GE-402 turbofan engines with speeds of up to 1,190 miles per hour and a flight ceiling of 50,000 feet. It was armed with a M61A1/A2 Vulcan 20mm cannon, AIM-9 Sidewinder missiles, and AIM-120 advanced medium-range air-to-air missiles. The hornett was an every-type-of-climate fighter, with advanced, integrated avionics that projected onto the windscreen, giving Eric the advantage of not having to look down at his instruments. He wasn’t just a pilot behind the stick of that jet—he was a weapon.
     
    Eric was walking through preflight with his crew chief when Captain Howard walked over.
     
    “No flowers? Captain, I’m disappointed,” Eric said.
     
    “Lieutenant, there’s no way of knowing what you’re walking into when you get to Phoenix. I have a few men there waiting for you, but what’s happening inside the city could be a problem. It’s unfortunate, but you need to be prepared to fight the battle on two fronts.”
     
    “I know, sir.”
     
    Captain Howard saluted, and Eric returned it in kind. The hatch of the jet lowered, and Eric pulled his mask on. He waited for the towers’ clearance, and when the jet’s engines accelerated, he could feel the crushing pressure of g-forces thrusting him back into his seat.
     
    Eric climbed to his cruising altitude and took one last look at the USS Ronald Reagan below.
    Never in his life had he wanted to see that ship again so badly.

 
    ***
    Eric touched down at Luke Air Force Base, and the rest of