I Name You My Enemy

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Chapter Eleven: I Name You My Enemy

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444th Air Base, Zapland.
July 8th, 2019.
1200hrs.

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They spent the night after the mission in solitary, and the following days they were left with little freedom and spent most of it in solitary as well, and come Monday they were all split up to work outside for the day. Their food privileges hadn't yet been restored, so breakfast and lunch were out of the question. They split them up, sending half of them to do some work down at the fake airbase for whatever reason and the other half of them were to work with the mechanics in the hangar. Naomi got put in the same group as Tabloid and Count, and the mechanic they had the privilege of working with was the Scrap Queen herself.

A few guards barely kept watch on them outside as they carried out a conversation, and most of the guards had gone inside to the mess hall to eat. They kept rubbing it in their faces how they got to sit in the air conditioning and eat and drink cold water. All the while the prisoners worked out in the sun with bottles of room temperature water that tasted bitter and weren't the least bit refreshing. The guards didn't seem interested in watching them, though, so that was a plus.

Count took advantage of the lack of discipline currently taking place and pulled out a cigarette and lit it, leaning against the hangar door and looking out at the runway. Tabloid sat on a crate nearby with his bottle of water, carrying out an animated conversation with Count. Ever since the mission, Count had been less hostile towards Naomi after she took that missile for him. He was still a jerk, but he seemed to ignore her instead of confront her, which wasn't any better but she'd take it. Tabloid was his usual, cheerful self, although he looked as if he hadn't been getting much sleep since the incident. None of them had been close to or particularly big fans of High Roller, but they were all subdued since he'd died.

Naomi sighed as she watched them, then looked up at her damaged plane where she saw Avril clambering around on the remainder of her wing. The look on Avril's face told her that her cellmate didn't have good news. Avril shook her head and sighed with exasperation before she carefully climbed down from the F-16 and made her way over to Naomi. "I heard that you took a missile for Count," Avril said as she approached. "Foolish thing to do. He's a pain in the ass and you sacrificed a perfectly good plane for him."

"He's not that bad. I mean, I'll agree, he is a massive pain, but...I dunno. I'd miss the pointless banter and competition. Besides, he did stay with me and Tabloid and fight." Naomi gave a small smile and glanced over at Count and Tabloid. Looking back to Avril, she put on a serious face again. Walking past Avril, she reached up and ran her hand along the side of her plane. "So...I take it you can't do anything for the wing, huh?"

"Yes and no," Avril replied simply, crossing her arms. Naomi looked at her, raising an eyebrow and inviting further explanation. She grunted with effort and limped forward to stand beside Naomi and under the wing. "I can repair pretty much any old piece of junk at this air base. But here's the thing...I don't have everything that I need to repair it. They give me the shit strewn around here and that's it. I could try it with what I have, but it'd take a while and you'd have to fly something else until I fixed it. At this point, it's best to just scrap it and use it for parts. I mean, this is the only F-16 we've had so far that made it back from an accident in one piece...more or less. Last guys that flew one of these trashed 'em. By now, they're probably at the bottom of the ocean."

"Oh..." Naomi wasn't going to lie by saying that she was fine with the idea. She'd actually grown rather fond of her little plane. It was more of a ridiculous sentimental thing. It was all she technically had left of Fort Grays and her previous squadron. Maybe it was time to accept that officially she was a member of Spare now. They probably had to give up the planes they originally flew and they didn't seem too bothered by it. Sighing, she knew she had to accept that it wasn't a pet of some sorts. It's not like she was giving up her dog or something like that. "Well, Avril...er...you're the expert, not I. Do whatever you think is best."

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