October 4th

If I see the interior of ONE MORE commercial jetliner, I think I will kill myself.

Sigh*

I shouldn't complain. I am sitting in first class, making my way to Scotland three days later than I had expected but doing it in style! It's been a while since I have traveled this way…not since I left home to join the Army. Since then its been coach, military transport, chopper, and most recently…in the landing gear of a 747.

You are probably wondering about that last statement. Well…let's just say that my suspicions on the nature of the mission in San Francisco was right on the money.

It seems like a small group of extremists calling themselves the `Leon Trotsky Brigade of the Fourth International' had skyjacked a plane bound for Moscow, and were threatening to `exact revenge' on the heirs of Stalin.

Not COBRA, eh? Well…GIJOE is an elite `anti-terrorist' force. Although most of our battles are against the snakes, there are other smaller yet equally deadly groups that threaten the freedom we all know and love. Our team consist of the best of the best…they send us in for he hard jobs, the missions where failure is not an option.

Stalker and Hawk met me at the Airport and briefed me on the way to `crime scene'. It seems that the hijackers had killed a camera crew that had been following the American Chess team to a huge tournament in the Russian capital and used their id to board the plane. No one was sure what the terrorists' plan was but there was no time to ask questions.

We needed to get on that plane and free the hostages.

I met up with Beachhead and Flint, who had arrived earlier and were examining the evidence. I hadn't seen or spoken to Flint since he took of with Wild Bill over a week ago, but when we saw each other we merely nodded and smiled in greeting. We were on duty after all, and Hawk was right there with us. Although he has turned his head on our relationship, it would certainly be unwise to push it.

Anyhow, the three of us were the intercept team, and were scheduled to hop a super sonic jet to Alaska where we were going to attempt to board and neutralize the terrorists without taking the whole plane down at the same time.

I made it sound so simple! Let me tell you it certainly was NOT.

We reached Anchorage just ahead of the hijacked plane, which had been persuaded to land for maintenance. There, we were given a briefing on the situation…three terrorists, all well armed…and one wrapped in enough explosive to turn the aircraft into confetti. Not good!

We snuck on while the plane was being refueled, hiding out in the landing gear until the 747 took off.

Then we went to work.

I torched my way into the luggage compartment, where I changed into a stewardess's uniform and waited for the signal to go. It was there that I learned that this mission was do or die. This was a suicide run… the idiots were going to crash the plane into a Soviet chemical warfare depot. Not only would the crash kill everyone on board, including the three of us…but the resulting gas cloud could end up slaughtering thousands of innocent civilians.

That is if we even made it that far. The Soviet's were sure to intercept us before we got within range. Their MIGS would shoot us down for sure.

If I told you I was cool and collected from that point forward I would be lying through my teeth. I was nervous as hell, but I managed to get the job done.

We all did.

I snuck into the plane through a panel under one of the passenger seats and took my place in the aisle, using all my acting and Russian language skills to play the part of a typical soviet stewardess.

A typical stewardess with a TAZER!

I blasted the dynamite clad `Roger' with it…paralyzing him long enough for Flint and Beachhead to take out the other two terrorists. Then, I placed a satchel charge on the hatch and blew `bomb boy' right off the aircraft.

I also managed to get myself locked in the bathroom!

Ugh! I had gone in there to change back into my uniform. I know it could probably have waited until we got back to SF but Flint was beginning to get on my nerves…teasing me by whispering playfully in my ear of his stewardess fantasy…

Beachhead was going to blast me out but the aircraft had taken enough damage already so I had to wait until we landed. How embarrassing!

So, how did I end up here on British Airways sipping champagne?

Well, Flint had promised Beachhead a steak dinner so after we had wrapped up with Hawk and Stalker, all of us hit the town. We had a wonderful time…well at least everyone else did. Unfortunately, as the meals were being served, Hawk asked me how my RIO re-quals had gone, and had Ace and I ended up wrecking another Skystriker.

Oh boy…

You should have seen the look on Flint's face when he heard that name. He looked up sharply at me and a dark cloud descended over his eyes.

"You didn't mention you were with the flyboys last week…" he asked through clenched teeth, trying to remain calm in front of the others.

I, of course, immediately went on the defensive…and snapped back. "I didn't think it was important…"

"Didn't think it was be important!?" His voice was beginning to rise and thankfully Stalker came to the rescue with a tactful and quick change of subject.

It was too late, though. Flint's jealousy was stirred, and he pretty much sulked the entire evening, every so often giving me a glare across the table, which I did my best to ignore.

It only got worse when we got back to the hotel. We all had separate rooms, and though I had been expecting to share mine with Flint that night…it had been a while after all…the `Ace' issue had pretty much guaranteed I would be sleeping alone.

He did burst into the room at one point, and we got into a heated argument about the whole thing. Ok…not an argument…an all-out fight. Thank god the walls were thick, or the entire floor would have been subject to our tirade.

Finally, I had had enough. I told him if he couldn't trust me that he had better leave, because I had nothing more to say to him. I had enough on my mind right now, it was a bad time for me and he knew it. I didn't need this…I didn't deserve this…I was trying desperately not to cry but my eyes were beginning to tear up.

When he saw the look that came over me his face softened, but it was too late…I was so angry…I was already an emotional wreck…this just sent me right over the edge… I hate crying…I hate showing him weakness. So instead of tears I became enraged.

I was so wound up that I forcibly shoved him out the door and slammed it in his face.

I am always vulnerable the first week of October…the week my father died…that is why I usually escape to Scotland…but instead there I was stuck in a damn hotel room with a selfish, jealous man.

I know why it hurts him…I know why he gets this way. But I didn't care anymore.

Needless to say he did not return.

I cried myself to sleep.

But long after midnight, I awoke to find him sneaking back into my room. I was exhausted and still angry so I pretended to be asleep so he would go away. I watched in the dark as he adjusted the alarm clock next to my bed and placed something on the night table.

I shut my eyes as he turned to me and soon felt his breath on my cheek, felt his hand stroke my hair, felt his lips brush softly against my skin before he turned and made his way back out into the hall.

I was so tired that I actually did fall asleep at his touch, only to be awoken a few hours later by the alarm.

There, on my night table, was a single rose and an envelope containing a folded piece of paper wrapped around a first class ticket to Scotland. I was booked on a flight leaving in three hours.

On the paper, in Flint's elaborate handwriting was this…

"My shame and guilt confound me. Forgive me, my love. If hearty sorrow be sufficient ransom for offence I tender it here. I do as truly suffer." -D

That silly, exasperating, sweet man! He rarely apologizes...but when he does it is always heartfelt and sincere.

He remembered too late what week this was, but remember it he did. He must have spent a fortune on these last minute tickets!

I went to thank him and give him a cheque for the cost of the flight but I found he had already checked out. Beachhead and he had been called off in the wee hours of the morning and were presently on a chopper heading towards Mexico.

The pilot has just announced that we will be landing in 15 minutes.

You know, I always come here alone. I prefer to do this alone…to be `near' my father, to spend time with my family.

To grieve.

But sitting here holding the note that Dash left for me, well, I can't help but wish he was here with me.

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