New- Short Stories

Suspended in Air

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Lance Cosper ran out of the round metal building that served as their home at the English airbase. His feet pounded in the gravel as he rushed to pull on his leather-flying jacket that proudly bore his U.S. tags on each collar. The sound of plane engines choking to life and the sound of sirens from the tower was deafening.

Checking over his shoulder he watched the rest of his crew behind him as they approached their bomber. It was truly a beautiful plane, massive wings that stretched out like wings on an eagle and the insignia of their bomber group painted on the hull of its green exterior.

Lance stopped and hurried his crew up the ladder beneath the belly of the B-25 and looked to the top of the bomber which held two turret guns, their black muzzles glistening from the late April sun that was rarely seen in London. The smell of the fuel that came from the engines filled the air making it almost un-breathable. Running under the plane Lance climbed into the plane, crouching and dodging radio equipment he made his way to the cockpit where he took his seat.

His copilot sat next to him running through the preflight check before they started the engines. Lance took a minute to fasten his harness and make sure that his parachute and .45-caliber handgun lay next to him.

Lance then turned his attention to the instrument panel and went about firing up both of the planes massive engines. The engines came to life, their roar deafening but the sound of their steady roar soon faded in Lance’s ears as he pulled on his headphones and listened to the tower and the other pilots in his bomber squad as they all fired up their engines and began to taxi to the runway.

Lance released the brakes a little bit letting the power of the engines drive them forward as they followed the other bombers. Lance looked out the side of his window to see the daisies that lined the runway’s edges. He breathed deep hoping to smell them but only got a helping of fuel fumes. He glanced to the other side of grass medium and saw the fighters also taxiing into position on their runway. Taking a deep breath and then letting it out forcefully Lance gripped the yoke of the plane and focused forward.

The voice of the tower operator’s yelled into his ears. “Bomber 4, surface wind direction, south 10 miles an hour. You are clear for take-off! God speed!”

“Get ready boys,” Lance yelled into the planes private communication channel, “Lets kill us some German’s.” It sounded cold-blooded when it left his lips but the war had numbed every man participating in it of his feelings. When he first signed up he only imagined he would be flying a plane over Germany. But he realized that even though he wasn’t the one who pulled the switch that dropped those tons of bombs he was the one who aimed them. The thing that kept him flying everyday to bomb targets was the knowledge that if he didn’t fight, more innocent civilians in England would suffer.

Releasing the brakes the plane lurched forward and accelerated down the runway until it gently lifted from the ground and roared off over the English channel toward Nazi Germany. The blue waters tossed and turned in the rough winds. Its surfaced darkened by fighters and bombers many of which Lance knew would never return back to England. Within fifteen minutes they were over the channel and the sure sign that they were in enemy territory was the black puffs of smoke that detonated all around the bombers with sickening thuds. The antiaircraft fire dotted the sky making it hard to see the other planes through the smoke. Lance’s face perspired as he gripped the yoke of the plane, gently guiding it into formation with his squad.

The plane suddenly jolted causing the yoke in Lance’s hands to shake violently.

A static voice came over the radio in Lance’s headphones. “Sir we are on fire! We have been hit,” shouted the planes navigator over the din of gunfire and drone of engines.

Lance looked at the instrument panel in front of him and saw the fuel meter dropping. “Those krauts must have hit the bombers fuel lines!” Despite the cold 20,000-foot air that rushed through the cabin of the bomber, Lance’s hand perspired in his leather gloves as he gripped the yoke and struggled to keep the plane from shaking.

Reaching with his left hand he grasped the device that hung from his neck that doubled as both his oxygen mask and his radio. Pulling it up to his perspiring face letting its cold surface touch the bridge of his nose he breathed deeply of the oxygen that flowed from it.

“Vinton! Drop every last bomb!” Lance shouted into the microphone.

“But sir,” the bombardier said, “We aren’t over the target yet?”

“Vinton we are over Germany so that is target enough! This plane isn’t going to make it back to England so just drop them and we can get out before we all go up in flames.”

Lance glanced through the front of the plane’s windows to see the rest of the five-plane squad ahead of them. Fighters streaked past the windows, some trailing smoke through the white clouds. The bomber slightly gained altitude as the heavy bombs fell away from the plane.

“Sir all bombs are away!” Vinton’s voice said into Lance’s earphones.

“Alright men! Make a jump for it! All guns out and ready! We are bailing out into enemy territory!” Lance shouted. He glanced to his right where his co-pilot sat with his eyes wide. Lance turned the radio from private channel to the squadron’s frequency and began to tell them what was going on. “This is Bomber 4 Squadron. We have suffered a hit in our rear fuselage and are going down. Baling out.” Lance and his copilot both unbuckled from their seats and followed the rest of the crew to the door. The cold wind outside their plane screamed. One by one every one of the crew jumped out in a free fall into the skies of enemy territory. 

A sickening feeling hit the pit of Lances stomach when one of enemy fighters turned its attention away from the rest of the bombers and towards his crew. The fighter matched them foot for foot as they fell through space. The vicious master of the skies had its eyes set on Lance. The fighter locked onto him and Lance knew he was ready to fire. Holding the rip core to his parachute in his hand he readied to pull it. The fighter’s guns erupted; the piercing sound of bullets rang over the roar of the engine. Lance gritted his teeth and closed his eyes.

Hearing the voice of the parachute instructor in the back of his mind, reminding him to count before pulling the cord. “Breath out Cosper…And count…One...two…three…four…”

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A Sy-Fi short story I have been working on!

Operation RTO

“Daddy, look at the fighter plane!”

Lt. Cody Mackey looked down at his son who stood staring at the planes that hung from the ceiling displaying their savage looks and strange shapes. Cody picked up the small child and put him on his knee. “That plane could only go 1,000 miles per hour.” The small child looked up into his fathers face trying to comprehend the number. Cody had dark black hair that was shaved in a crew cut and a handsome face with muscles on his arms that made him look like a perfect Hollywood Superstar. “How fast do you fly Daddy?”  

Cody looked down at his son and stroked his soft blond hair and opened his mouth to answer but was interrupted by a deep voice from behind him. “Your daddy flies us around at speeds of over mach 10 little man.” Cody stood his son onto his feet and turned to find his German comrade behind him. Cody’s huge friend towered over the father and son and looked more like a gentle beast than the stud that Cody was. Cody’s face lit up as he stood and took his friends hand into his own. “How did you find me?” asked Cody.

The German punched Cody playfully in the stomach making the little boy laugh.

“Well um, we are special ops forces for America in case you have forgotten?” He then picked up Cody’s hand and pulled down his sleeve reveling a black device that looked like an ordinary watch. “And we were trained to never take these off of our wrist. Right?”

Cody looked at his partner and said, “Kurt Limberg, you don’t mean you went to HQ just to get my location from a little robot I wear on my wrist?”

The massive man bent forward to look at Cody’s forehead and then rapped on it like a door saying, “Mister Genius, are you home!” The little boy’s laughter echoed through the walls of the marble museum as the two men made a show of swinging fake punched at one another and doubling over as if in pain. Kurt made a jab at Cody’s side, which Cody exaggerated and fell to the floor where Kurt knelt next to him. He then whispered in his ear, “HQ wants you and I to leave now! Get your son to his mom and let’s go!” Cody stood holding his side as if in pain. “I will get you back Limberg! Either here or in our craft. You haven’t even seen some of the crazy stuff I can make that baby do.” Just then a lady approached. She was young and attractive yet had a certain look of seriousness in her face as she looked into Cody’s blue eyes, which betrayed a look of worry. Cody places his hands on his wife’s shoulders and simply said, “Take care of Clayton and yourself. I love you!” He gave her a kiss and bent down to give his little boy a hug. He waved behind him as he walked toward the entrance of the Smithsonian Museum where his partner waited for him.

“Lieutenant Cody Mackey. Lieutenant Kurt Limberg. You have a new mission.” Said the rather stocky American President who sat in his leather chair in the White House. The two men stood smartly at attention, fully focusing on the President’s every word. “I have had my most trusted men check and recheck every man we have in the SOFA (Special Ops Forces of America), and none I have looked at do I have complete trust in. With the exception of two men.” The President looked at the Cody and Kurt and smiled. “I will give you two guesses of who these two are?” Both Cody and Kurt still stood at attention but grinned from ear to ear. “Now gentlemen about the mission…please do not stand at attention. It makes me feel…like I am being guarded.” Both the men came out of attention and stood as best they could in a relaxed position, despite everything in them that screamed to follow their training by standing at attention in the presence of a higher rank. “Thank You.” Said the president. He then motioned them all over to a glass table that stood behind Cody. The President tapped his finger on the glass causing the heat sensors inside to activate the fiber optics to come to life. The President’s fingers flew over a virtual keypad on the glass, typing out a code that would take months to memorize. At last he hit the enter key causing the entire fifteen foot table to turn into a picture of the Earth and the Moon. No one spoke for a minute, but all three men looked at the huge map of the Earth and its satellite, the moon. At the top of the table there were words that read “Rotten Tomatoes Operation (RTO).”  Seeing the words, Cody now realized what the mission was about. There were terrorists who had discovered the secrets of space living and where living on the moon. Strangely enough they kept returning to Earth to retrieve rotten tomatoes from Earth then roaring back up to their moon colony. Not harming anyone on Earth, just retrieving rotten tomatoes. Although Cody now understood the map he still wondered where they came in. The President at last broke the silence. “I am sure you have be acquainted with the strange activities of these terrorists?” Both men nodded, receiving a pleased look from the President. “Well where you come in is finding out why they are taking these tomatoes and what they are using them for.” Kurt could not hold it in any longer and burst out laughing. “With all due respect sir. Do you mean you want two members of the most highly trained special operations group in the world to go to the moon to figure out why a bunch of crazy’s have stolen our worthless rotten tomatoes.” The President instead of scolding him began to chuckle as well and then became dead serious. “To your answer Lieutenant Limberg…Yes. I have sent other men up but they never return. There is a leak in the SOFA somewhere but instead of looking for him, I decided to look for two who I know are loyal, trustworthy and the best at what you do.” Cody straightened up and placed both hands on the glass table. The President starred at the two men, the light coming from the fiber optics in the table illuminated his face making it seem like the scene of an epic spy movie. The President looked at two men and said, “ I can trust no one. You two are to go to the moon. Find out what is going on and then destroy them or it. However there will be no backup. If you get in trouble I cannot send anyone because I do not know whom they would be firing at. You will have to discover and destroy the secrets on the moon, alone!”

“Roger sir, we read you.”

Kurt looked at his partner who was piloting the massive craft toward the edge of the atmosphere at super sonic speeds. Kurt reach over and tapped him on the shoulder and said into his microphone that was built into his helmet “Hey Cody, the president says we are under the radar of SOFA for now so when we are ready to break the atmosphere let him know so he can jam the radar signal!” Cody nodded his head in understanding, simply saying “Roger.”

About five minutes later Cody’s voice came to life on the radio. “This is RTO Operator. Please disable the radar for 2 minutes while we enter outer space. Over.” The president’s voice came through in Cody speakers in his helmet and said, “I read you RTO Operator. Disabling in 3,2,1 SOFA radar is now disarmed. Enjoy your all expense paid trip to the moon. Over.” Exactly two minutes later the president’s voice came through again. “RTO Operation, radar is now active are you clear of its waves? Over.” Cody looked at Kurt and smiled and said, “Roger Command. We are clear. Landing at destination in three minutes. Over.” Cody’s helmet once again came to life with the static reply “Roger RTO Operation. Over.” Cody at the controls of the monstrous machine expertly guided the craft just above the glowing surface of the moons dusty and rocky surface, sending rocks spiraling off into space. Coming to a large crater in the moon Cody dove the craft to the bottom saying into his private mic that only he and Kurt could hear. “Command this is RTO Operator we are about to impact the ground. Good Bye!” Kurt looked at Cody who was pretending to fiddle with the controls and just began to yell. Cody just before impact glided the craft back up to its original height and began laughing. “I told you I would get you back you using this machine, Kurt!” said Cody. With a look of disbelief on his face Kurt loosened his grip on the bar in front of him and slumped down in his chair breathing heavily. Cody’s laughter was stopped however when the president came to life on the radio announcing their arrival to their destination, which was a small crater that hid the craft perfectly. The two men climbed into the back of the craft dressing in skin tight jumpsuits that were made from an advanced fiber optics specialist and allowed them to walk through crowds invisible. They then strapped an assortment of weapons, of the same fiber optics make, to holsters on their legs. Besides the small guns they carried, they both attached an M-4 machine gun to their chests with a retractable wire that made there no way of losing their precious protection. These guns however where made for space with bullets that were rocket propelled so that they did not simply float toward the target bouncing harmlessly but instead delivered a super sonic bullet to and through the body of the target killing instantly from blunt force alone. Equipped for battle they placed a helmet on that was equipped with a rear and side view cameras to allow the two to see in every direction. As well as a private and command communication system and breathing system that takes the harmful gases around them and turning it into oxygen, allowing them to walk around with an unlimited air supply. They then climbed into mini machine that looked like the main craft but smaller in size and also self-destructible for easy riddance. Cody then took the controls once more taking the two men to the edge of the terrorist moon village.

“Self-Destructing Mini Craft in 3, 2,1!” said Cody on the private communication system.

A muffled explosion sound was all that was heard before the small machine vaporized by the small nuke. “Command this is RTO Operator. Preparing to enter enemy territory. Unsure of next transmission. Over.” Said Kurt into the mic. “Command reads you RTO Operator. Happy hunting! Over.” Cody snorted and thought, “Yea happy hunt man in the safe and comfortable over stuffed chair.” The two men walk invisible right through the streets that were lined with egg shaped skyscrapers. After walking for a few minutes Cody and Kurt stopped both flicking through the images of maps and buildings that flashed up on their optics operated helmet visor. “Look Kurt, looks like to the test facility is just to the right of us.” Said Cody. The two men standing right in the middle of the street, with enemy’s passing by them in strange white suits, both of them stopped and pulled up the view of the building beside them with their side view camera’s. The both walked up to the door and found a box that looked like a security system. Kurt quickly pulling one of his goodie from his small pack, brought out a decoder that he held up to the box. The small screen on the device scanned through millions of digits per second stopping every time it found a correct digit. Cody found himself thinking back to the President typing the long code into the table but was interrupted by a single beep sound from the device. Kurt looked at Cody and although he could not see through his dark mask he knew a smile lay on his face. After walking several miles through mazes and boxes that Kurt quickly decoded and walked through they came to a room that had three men wear silver radiation suits. They were examining something in a glass barrel. Seeing the contents of the barrel, Kurt and Cody looked at each other. There inside the barrel the rotten tomatoes disappeared into a green vapor that swirled inside the barrel. One of the three scientists went over to a wall where he typed a code on a keypad. When the code was finished a huge sliding door opened revealing three missiles the size of the skyscrapers outside. The scientists carefully moved the barrel over to the third missile in line and connected the barrel to the missile letting the vapor disappear into the body of the missile. They all started to laugh and through his noise amplifying earphones in his helmet Cody heard them say in English! “Well my dear friends tomorrow these we launch at Earth and the day after that Earth is ours.” Kurt raised his gun and shot a three round burst placing a supersonic bullet in each of their heads. They approached them to find an order written in English that looked identical to a SOFA order. With a dreadful realization that SOFA was the terrorists, Cody radioed the president. “Command this is RTO Operator. We have located the use of the rotten tomatoes. They are being used to make some kind of super nuke. The rotten tomatoes when exposed to the gases here in outer space turns it into this green toxic vapor. We also found out it is the SOFA that are the terrorists. What step do we take next? Over.” The answer came several seconds later. “RTO Operator is there anyway to destroy those missiles with explosives. Over” Cody looked at Kurt who shook his head at Cody. “Negative Command. The metal hull is too thick on the missiles. The only way to destroy them is to self-destruct which would mean…which would mean we won’t be coming back. Over.” Cody’s mind whirled, either way he lost. If he did not destroy them his wife and child as well as all of the inhabitants of Earth are destroyed but if he did he would not return. “RTO Operator I think you know my decision. Destroy the missiles. Do you have any last message? Over.” With tears in his eyes Cody keyed his mic and said, “Tell my wife and child I love them. Over and Out.” Cody gripped Kurt’s hand and shook it. The two men walk over to a missile. Flipping up a glass lid revealing the self-destruct button. Cody one last time keyed his mic and said to Kurt, “Been a pleasure working with you buddy. I wouldn’t have had it any other way!” With that he slammed his fist into the button detonating the missile.