Scott's takeoff had been uneventful, the Super Tomcat responding faithfully and reliably as it always did. Now, he was at the leading edge of their staggered line formation as they crossed the Atlantic, leaving the Bahamas far behind as they headed for the rendezvous with the in-flight refuelling tanker. He listened in, and couldn't help but chuckle as the banter flew freely, especially as Fuka gave out her 'warning' and the others replied. He heard Kat giggle softly too over their inter-plane circuit, though she didn't join in.
"Roger, Cobalt 5, Cobalt 1-1; offering a refuge for any of the ladies of the squadron against Cobalt 7's attempts. It's perfectly legit, I assure you," he said with a deadpan humour in his tone. "Self-defence pillow-fighting classes will be included". He sniggered as Kat chucked something small at him from the rear seat in the cockpit, bouncing it off of his helmet with a 'clunk'.
He laughed as Circus mentioned a dancing contest, and replied in continued good humour. "Confirmed, Cobalt 6; I've seen
Footloose, I'm pretty sure I can improvise well enough for us to put on a good show, over".
The banter and chatter continued over the rest of the flight on and off; it was something to pass the time with as they flew over miles and miles of ocean with little to mark their position and nothing much to see of note, especially at their altitude.
Finally, the tanker hove into view; looking more-or-less like a military-grey airliner. The refuelling was matter-of-fact and straightforward as they refuelled somewhere north-west of the Azores, and overtook their support planes, the fighters being faster than the transports that would arrive shortly after them at Malta's international airport.
As they moved closer to Spain, Circus put on a little impromptu flight display in salute of his countries' display team, something that Scott acknowledged with a waggle of his jets' wingtips.
As Ayvee spoke up and asked her question, Scott pondered his answer, chuckling at Myk's reply and giving a shrugging nod of agreement; the mental image did fit the young man well.
He was a bit perplexed and surprised by his following reaction though; it was surprisingly heartfelt and sincere for having barely known any of the rest of them for less than a day, and for something so run-of-the-mill as a flight across the ocean. Bemused and a little unsure of how to reply or what to say, he simply double clicked his microphone as an acknowledgement of the young man's words, before taking a breath to speak up in reply to Ayvee's question. Kat, however, beat him to it, a note of amusement in her raspy tones.
"Cobalt 4, Cobalt 1-2. Heartbreak would be a fox-"
Scott started to smile as he caught her eye in the mirrors on the canopy bracing, and she smirked at him as she looked back.
"-A
wily, grey, mangy old fox...!"
He pouted in mock upset as he looked back at her, but couldn't help but grin.
"Well, what about you, Cobalt 1-2? What would you be?"
"I mean, duh. I'd be a cat!"
A short while later, they started to lower in altitude as their destination came closer. The sun had long set, and the night's splendour had given them a spectacular view of the stars from their high altitude, and of the distant gleam and glimmer of lights from the various cities that spread out far below.
As they dropped lower, the lights across the landscape marked out the populated areas of the island of Malta, resolving further and further into the shapes and lines of roads, towns, and villages, and finally the landing lights of the runway ahead of them.
Scott lead the approach, touching down with little flair or deliberation, the Super Tomcat's gear making barely a squeak of rubber on the runway as he landed expertly, the big carrier jet slowing down quickly to take the first turn-off and taxi to the apron.
He followed the guiding gestures of a ground crewman to park the plane up, mentally noting the possibility of needing shelters of some form, as he couldn't help but noticed the charred and twisted tangle of metal that had been bulldozed to one side of the parking apron, and the scars on the buildings from shrapnel or strafing, as well as sandbagged positions on flat roofs with the blunt snouts of anti-aircraft guns pointed skyward.
As he shut the jet down, crews rushed over to help him and Kat down, securing the planes' wheels with chocks and pulling down the built-in cockpit ladder. Climbing down, he took off his helmet and looked over as a man with tanned skin and a bushy, black moustache stepped forward, wearing a camouflage uniform with rank insignia that marked him as equal to his own.
"Colonel Valentine, a pleasure to meet you. I am Colonel Abela, deputy commander of the Maltese armed forces. Brigadier Hanlon sends his regrets that he cannot be here to meet you, but his position and duties have him in much discussion with both the President and also the N/UN. He sends his thanks for your arrival, however, and has detached as many of our personnel to aid you as possible"
"Thank you, Colonel. The rest of my squadron are with me, and our transports are right behind us too, with more of our own personnel and equipment to help bolster your defences. As soon as they land, I'll be happy to turn the security forces over to your command and advice on where best they can be utilised and employed for effective defence. Do you have somewhere for us to bunk down, and facilities for command and control?"
"Certainly. I have directed Captain Murano to be your liason, he will show you where you will be staying, and co-ordinate your actions with our own. We will make any and all resources we can spare available to you as well. Unfortunately, that is not as much as we may like; we are still rebuilding from the disasters of years past, which is why we require these resources that are being interrupted to begin with, and it is the current feeling that these raiders seem to be aiming to stage an invasion. But I will leave this to Murano to brief you in full"
"Thank you, Colonel. I'm sure we'll speak again soon"
The Colonel excused himself, climbing into a Land Rover that departed shortly after, and leaving Murano to introduce himself. A short man with bright, intense eyes and fair hair, he seemed very competent and quite personable as he spoke, turning to watch the rest of the squadron arrive with Kat and Scott.
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