Moose smiled, then pointed his thumb over his shoulder towards Jnr, “Look at him, somebody has got to do somethin’, the pining puppy is a massive downer.”
William Morgan Morris had been Brooklyn’s radar operator since they were paired on their first day on the carrier. He was a bright lad from Bismarck, North Dakota. William’s bright green eyes brought a sense of calm and level-headedness to proceedings; this balanced out Brooklyn Jnr’s more aggressive, reckless streak.
Brooklyn Jnr had been in an almost melancholy depression since he had expressed his anger and disappointment to his girlfriend about the anti-war movement she had joined. The letter Pamela sent back basically said that she was free to do what she wanted, she believed that the war should have never happened and that she would have expected more support from her lover.
The letter finished with Pam saying that they should take a break from the relationship to see if she could forgive Brooklyn for his actions. The young man was devastated by this as he really thought he had found the one; he had dreams that they would marry and he could have the enjoyment that his mother and father had once had. He loved the stories his mom told him about his dad, with that sparkle in her eyes.
William Morris pulled up a chair next to his friend and partner; he dropped a glass of cool orange juice in front of him.
“Sorry, I can’t get you a beer until we reach the mainland!”
Brooklyn looked up but he barely reacted.
“Chin up mate, you are bringing the place down.” Moose rested his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Look mate, we have all had problems with women, mine is mainly getting em to like me.”
Brooklyn tried to conceal a smile but failed.
“That’s better dude, you can’t do anything about it stuck on this tub, so no good pining, come have a laugh with your mates and when we get some much-needed shore leave, then go sort out the mess you made.”
Brooklyn Jnr gave Morris a playful shove, “You’re right ass jockey.” Brooklyn got up, “Deal me in the next game, time for me to win all ya money.”
They guys around the table cheered. “About time Jnr, no cheating this time though hey.”
They all laughed.
Brooklyn was still upset but the mixture of friendly banter and winning a few hands of blackjack did manage to lift his mood slightly.
Pamela was nearly five years younger than her man, but after several years of university under her belt, she had blossomed into a mature young woman. Pamela was born on the largest island of Hawai’i and had inherited the light brown completion of her mother.
At only just over five-foot-tall the young Hawaiian women was also a great deal shorter than Brooklyn Jnr however, this did not seem to affect the couple as their personalities just clicked. The young lady knew what she liked and her strong will only lite Brooklyn’s passion even more.
Pamela usually let her lovely, curly, brown hair hang naturally around her shoulders, her dark brown eyes had flecks of yellow that sent out sparks to anyone who stared into them. She was a perfectly wrapped youthful package and this got her a lot of attention from other men.
She had been tempted on several occasions but she always remained faithful to her first love, even though they had been on opposite sides of the world.
The anti-war movement swept through the university community like an untamed wildfire and Pamela was washed away in the ideals of a free generation. She traveled the road on various protests marches and fell in with a group of people who experimented with marijuana. She was enjoying the freedom of expression that this movement gave her.
When Pamela expressed her new found freedom, views and friends to Brooklyn Jnr in her letter where she let Brooklyn know the war he was fighting in was illegal and that the US should be ashamed of their involvement. Pamela was shocked and angry at Brooklyn’s fiery response and of his pride to be serving his Country.
This is when she had decided to take a break with Brooklyn Jnr and Pamela began touring the States and campaigning against what she thought was an unjust conflict.
Ground Zero
Explosions blossomed in all directions; the base shook under the strain. American troops had begun to flee in all directions; they were remorselessly mowed down in a burning firestorm of superheated projectiles.
The stricken Phantoms that were unable to leave the ground were destroyed in an instant by concentrated fire from the behemoth tanks that prowled through the hangers. The main communications room had been taken completely by surprise.
The men and women in the tower were now fighting for their lives; they had barricaded the doors with anything they could and were now crouched behind any shelter they had left, the guards had their rifles raised.
The door blew open with a terrible explosion that scattered shrapnel and debris in every direction, the soldiers had to dive behind cover. As they tried to regain their awareness a stream of glowing projectiles ripped into the room.
One of the guards bravely stood to give his colleagues some covering fire, the projectiles stopped for a second, which gave the other guard the chance to fire. He stood and pumped led down the narrow corridor.
The unknown enemy had clearly had enough of this as one of the huge tanks below the tower was given a new target. Its giant turret turned and the cannon elevated, a few seconds later the barrel glowed ghostly purple and it fired. The round tore through the huge glass windows of the control tower and detonated instantly vaporizing most of the people inside.
The few remaining survivors tried to surrender but the tank fired again and this time the roof collapsed, crushing everything inside. The troops moved onto their next targets with almost inhuman efficacy.
Warren Hall and his men crept out of the small personal door at the rear of the hanger; they carefully swept the area for hostiles.
“Clear.” Hudson whispered.
Then men moved on and skulked around the edge of the next hanger which had been half destroyed by one of the massive tanks. The sound of fighting grew louder as they turned the corner. The cries and terrified screams soon accompanied the dwindling gunfire.
Suddenly a couple of soldiers rounded the corner, one of the men was limping badly and his face was contorted into a frightened grimace.
“Help us Sir, for the love of god hel…” the second man was cut off as the air around the two men erupted in a dazzling purple haze, the two men disappeared forever in this glowing fireball; seconds later the shockwave caught up with the explosion and knocked Hall and his men to the floor.
Hall shook his head to try and clear the ringing from his ears, his blurry vision quickly cleared as he was yanked to his feet. Hudson was next to him and pulled him into the smoked out shell of the hanger.
“Sir, sir are you alright?” Hudson shouted.
A small trickle of blood formed in Hall’s left ear. He quickly checked himself over before giving Hudson a thumbs up.
“Thank god.” The young Airman first class exhaled.
“What about the rest of the squad?” Hall asked.
“I dragged them all in here Sir, they are all ok.”
“We will make a soldier out of you yet Hudson!” Hall smiled before adding, “Thanks.”
Hudson nodded.
Another explosion filled the air close to their right.
“What shall we do now Sir, they seem to be everywhere, we are never going to get passed them.” Tom Cox said panting.
Hall sighed
“What?” Cox asked.
“You’re not gonna like this boys but we are gonna make our stand here, draw the fuckers in and give Hudson here a window to get out.”
Hudson was going to protest but was cut off as Hall raised his hand.
“No arguments this time kid, you have the constitution to get out of here, you have proved that and we need to get the message out. We can’t let these bastards get a bridgehead here.”