Keep Your Eyes On Me

- 16 -

It felt like falling. Wait a minute, she was falling. She was falling fast. Why did her head hurt? Why was it red? She didn't know. All she felt was wetness and the sensation of falling. Falling... falling... falling... FALLING!

Elizabeth's eyes snapped open at the realization of her falling. She looked up to see her shute engulfed in flames.

"Holy fuck!" she shouted, looking around as the cold winter air nipped at her skin. She immediately shifted, aiming for a soft fir tree, feeling wetness trickle down her face. Roughly landing in the tree, she grunted and yelped at the feeling of falling down it. She broke the limbs before the non-fiery part of the shute snagged and tangled, leaving her dangling. She panted heavily, thankful that she wasn't dead before pulling the release and falling the rest of the way, landing and rolling like she was trained to do.

She panted, gripping the snow below her as she looked around, taking in the sights the smells of her surroundings. She tried to find things she could use. She'd been in this situation before: behind enemy lines. She'd gotten out plenty of times. There was a possibility of getting through this without getting captured. Her ears perked up at a familiar whistle, the one her and John had created themselves. If separated, they would use it to call for one another. It sounded like a bird. She answered the call back, standing up before she took off some of her flight gear that wasn't necessary. She was sure to use her knife to destroy what needed to be. She began her trek, listening for John's calls and responding with her own before they finally met one another, embracing tightly.

"Holy shit!" he whispered, looking around. "We're stuck behind enemy lines, Russian enemy lines."

"I'm sure it's not that bad..." Liz mumbled, thinking through what they needed to do. The adrenaline of the fall was the only thing keeping her warm.

"We blew up their uranium center, Ghost," John deadpanned, causing her to look at him now. Her neck strained a bit from his height.

"Yeah, could be the Japanese, or Al Qaeda. Al Qaeda sucked... they hated Americans no matter what. At least these guys should have some sort of decency, compassion maybe even..." she said, more trying to hype herself up. "Besides, we have army training. It's more than they teach us in the navy. We could hike to a nearby village maybe."

"One that's probably controlled by the militant group we are trying to escape from," John pointed out, causing her to huff.

"Shut up with the logic right now. The last thing we need is to be captured again," she snapped at him. Her face was hard but the settling panic was evident in her eyes. John frowned, moving his hands to her face and gently holding it.

"Sunny, don't break down on me. We need to stay level-headed," he cooed softly. He lowered his hands onto her shoulders. "I mapped it out in my mind. The ocean is that way. The mountain is that way and the airstrip is that way," John said, pointing in every direction that he named.

"Following the coast would be ideal but I'm sure they will search there first."

"That is only if they come looking for us."

"They will. They will want to see if there are any survivors on either side."

The chill began to settle in for both of them. Liz looked up at the sun.

"The sun is setting soon. What's the plan, lieutenant?" John asked. She was his superior, pilot, and elder. He always treated her as such when in the field. She shook her head, thinking. Her heart rate increased as she thought about the people she left behind. She hoped and prayed that Bradley and Pete got out okay. "Elizabeth." She looked at John again and sighed.

"Sorry. We should walk to the beach. Keep in the treeline if we can."

And with that, they were off, their knives in hand in case something came up. That was the problem with being a pilot. You had nothing on you. You had the bare minimum if you had to eject. And it was something neither of them was comfortable with. A knife, and barely any rations. The ideal situation was evac could come and rescue you. But in this case, it was a bad idea. They knew they were being helicoptered out. Who knew how many enemy fighters were still in the air? Or how big the operation truly was?