Missing in Action

Thirty Four

Missing in Action

Chapter Thirty Four

James' P.O.V

The oil spluttered onto the floor.

"Damn it!" I exclaimed as I shoved myself away from the spilling oil.

I threw the spanner that I was using at the wall. It hit it with a sharp clang! and fell miserably to the floor.

The black pool on the floor began to run slowly in all directions. Its black fingers were reaching for something that I couldn't see.

I had been trying to fix the oil blockage in the plane for two hours. Normally, I was very good at fixing planes, but I couldn't concentrate. Images of Cassidy and Henry kept flooding my mind.

I flexed my right arm. I had been burnt in the attack on Illustrious. It wasn't serious, but the mark would never fade.

I had been the luckiest out of the Falcon Squadron. Henry was dead, Cassidy was still in terrorist territory, Peter was lying unconscious and Ben might lose his left leg.

I was lucky. People looked out for me.

I looked around the room for something to mop the oil up with. I scanned over plane parts and rags and boxes of tools. I couldn't see anything.

I groaned. My day was only getting worse.

"Oil blockages were always hard to fix," a voice called from the door of the hanger.

I turned to see who it was.

Vice Admiral Harrison stood in the doorway. His brown eyes watched as I stood and saluted him painfully.

"Have you had that arm looked at?" he asked.

"Yes sir," I replied.

"I'm sure that they told you that you shouldn't be fixing planes with it. Especially when you are going to spill oil all over my hanger," he said.

He tossed me something to clean up the oil with. I nodded a silent thank you to him.

"Lieutenant Davis always was the best at fixing oil blockages sir," I said solemnly.

"No, Lieutenant Davis was the best at fixing planes in general," the Vice Admiral stated.

"Sir?" I said, asking for an explanation.

"I know about her not going home to her family when you were all off duty. She was in here often fixing any planes that had anything wrong with them," he explained.

I continued mopping up the oil on the floor. I kept my head down so that I didn't have to look at him. Cassidy was always giving time up for others.

"Why is it always the good ones sir?" I asked.

My voice was shaking. I coughed to try to cover it up.

"Because God wants the good ones to himself," the Vice Admiral said.

"Cassidy doesn't believe in God," I told him.

"Why?" he asked.

"Why what sir?" I asked.

"Why doesn't she believe in God?" Vice Admiral Harrison asked.

I stopped for a moment. My head was full of her yelling at Henry to pull back. She had been so desperate. Then I remembered how she couldn't watch any of those adverts that ask you to donate money to children in Africa because all of the children that were shown looked more like skeletons than people.