The Electron Years: An Authorized Biography - Part the First

1130HRS
24th December 2007
Tikrit Foward Air Base, Iraq

In the deep grey roar of a late-night storm, Tarmac 1 was almost empty, but for a single centre of activity. Illuminated for a second by lightning, the Raptor looked like an ancient beast, straining to free itself while preflight techs swarmed around it, trying to control the creature. It wouldn't last much longer. It was time to fly.

The storm whipped around Andrew as he oversaw the last of the preflight checks, rain battering against his flight suit. The beast had kept itself together while he was away... better than he had, at any rate. Engines green, flaps green, weapons loaded - a full consignment of ADHEDs and Sidewinders. Bringing freedom to the fuzzie-wuzzies, in the form of five hundred pounds of high explosive. People were going to die tonight - and Andy was going to kill them.

For some reason, the thought made him crack up, laughing, then gasping for air, then a speck of blood appeared on the flight plan. Andy collected his breath back, slowly, and stared at the blood as it washed away. A loud voice cut through his reverie - the ground chief, Stan. the last man standing on the tarmac.
"Captain? Captain! Ground is green - we need your OK for take-off!"

He looked at Stan, down at the still-blood flecked flight plan, then up at the Raptor.
"We're go."

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Lightning flashed in front of Andy's cockpit - the only feature visible in the storm. The crackle of radio static in his ears credited Operations with the decency to tell him he was still en-route to objective. A burst of turbulence shook the beast, but he steadied it with one hand and tapped on the pressure gauge, which was showing 20 atmospheres. The Raptor was an ancient motherf**ker, but it was probably going to be flying for longer than him. Ops crackled into existence again.
"Thunder One, Weather is upgrading conditions to Alpha Seven in target region, which you're up on in two. Are you green?"

Andy's HUD didn't show any change in conditions, even after he thumped it.
"Roger than, Ops - we're green. I'll handle it."

"We copy, Thunder. You're IR in one."

The beast seemed to be thirsting for blood as it shook again, jerking upwards. Andy forced it back on-path, and fingered the trigger. The HUD started to count down from 30. Breathes started to come more painfully - he coughed - and then everything went red as the HUD screamed FIRE. Blood surged up his throat as his fingers pulled the trigger. So this is death. Blackness consumed his vision.

"Thunder One! Thunder One! Target acheived! Do you copy?"
The deep voice of Ops brought Andy back - upside down and out of control. He stared at the controls, wondering what they were, as the world span around him. He breathed - suddenly free of pain - and remembered.

"Thunder One! Come in, please!"
Andy snatched the control stick and tried to pull the beast out of its death dive - it struggled against him as he wrestled with the yoke, but the man won out. It levelled out - slowly - and he was back on a path to TFAB.
"I'm here, Ops. Mission acheived. I'm heading back."

"Good job, Thunder One. And Andy - merry Christmas."
Andy grinned - Not today, God. You missed me. - and thumbed the reply key.

"Merry Christ-"
Lightning flashed and darkness crashed again.

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