Fleet Admiral UpLink Station-Boomer scratched his head as he looked over the plans that Arsenal had faxed him from Base One.
"Zeros, Mustangs, Jugs, and Spitfires??" UpLink asked in disbelief. "What's the Chief thinking, going in with outdated equipment like these?"
"I take it you didn't see the modifications Arsenal sent over," the captain of the Cabot-Daedalo stated.
"Modifications?" UpLink asked. "This I gotta see."
Captain Zellers handed the Admiral another sheet. UpLink read through it and started laughing.
"Meson blasters on a Mosquito? Mass drivers on the Jugs? Turbolasers on the rest? The Lyrans won't see this coming. I sure didn't."
"And you were Chief Skunk," Capt. Zellers stated. "Tsk tsk tsk."
Arsenal climbed out of the plane, and returned a mechanic's salute.
"Take care of this baby," he told the mechanic. "She's one of a kind. Just watch out for accidental discharge from those meson blasters."
"'Meson blasters'?" the mechanic muttered, once Arsenal had moved out of earshot.
"I see you decided to take the old pilot's lounge as yer office," Arsenal stated.
"Itzajob," UpLink stated, leaning back in his chair. "What can I do for ya, Chief?"
"Just making sure you're not gonna blow up this ship like you did Luna Base," Arsenal stated with a wry grin.
"Naw. I made sure not to get too close to the engines. How soon until the kickoff?"
"We lift off at dawn tomorrow," Arsenal stated.
It was late when Arsenal finally went to "sleep", spending an hour in a form of trance on the hangar deck floor. It was a trick he'd picked up while in SEAL training. By slipping into this "trance", he was able to rest his body and his mind to the point where regular sleep was not necessary.
"As we all know," Arsenal stated, "Argentina has been invaded by Lyrans and their Purple Alliance allies. This puts the Enemy in a very strong position to invade both Bolivia and Brazil. I don't need to tell you what the consequenses of those two countries falling into Enemy hands would be." A few pilots shifted uncomfortably.
"Over in the Atlantic," Arsenal stated, pulling down a map of the target area, "the NEBULA fleet is about to launch it's assault on the coastal city of Comodoro Rivadavia. Undoubtedly, the Enemy is expecting them.
"What they are not expecting is an assault from the mountains. That's going to be our job. We'll be taking off, heading over Chile into the southern Andes Mountains, and attacking the Enemy encampments in the city of San Carlos de Bariloche."
"Pardon me for asking, Commander," one of the pilots in the back asked, "but what good are ancient fighters like the ones we're using going to be against theirs?"
"All of the World War Two fighters have been refitted with fusion canister engines and either laser cannon or mass drivers," Arsenal explained, "except for the lead plane, which is equipped with meson blasters. Also, their small size will prevent them from being spotted on enemy radar while in the mountains.
"Gold group is the Thunderbolts, led by myself in the Mosquito. Red and Blue groups are the Mustangs, Green and Yellow are the Spitfires, and Purple and Orange squadrons will be the Zeros."
Arsenal checked his watch. "The sun will be rising soon. Let's move out."
Arsenal received the "ALL GO" signal, gave the crewman the thumbs up and salute, and was thrust backwards, as the Mosquito launched into the air, a wing of WWII aircraft behind him.