Talk:AIF/@comment-24142455-20160326024303/@comment-10905876-20160328180806

"Sir, radar contacts up north, looks like an air rid from Germany."

"Contact Chain Home Command, advise them of the situation."

"Yes sir. Chain Home Command this is the frigate Nostromo, we have a large group of contacts inbound..."

-IKAF Breenham-

Pilot James Johnson climbed in to his P-99D fighter as alarm sirens blare are IKAF Breenham. He was quite nervous, and his hands shook, this would be his first combat mission since he graduated from the academy. He strapped himself in, and the ground crew pulled away the ladder. As he started the two Z-90 engines in his fighter, his squadron leader came over the radio.

"Ice Bandit squadron, report in."

Johnson checked his plane's systems as the other pilots in his squadron reported in. Soon, he heard his wingman Robert Jones on the radio.

Jones: "Ice Bandit twelve standing by."

Silence.

"Ice Bandit thirteen, your radio broken?"

Johnson: "What? Uh, Ice Bandit thirteen standing by."

"Ice Bandit fourteen standing by."

"Ice Bandit squadron, move to runway seventeen middle. Bombers coming down from the arctic circle, prepare to intercept."

Johnson taxied his Spitfire II to the runway, and waited for the fighters ahead to take off. Soon, it was his and Jones's turn to take off. He advanced the throttle to full, and hit the afterburner ignition. He was pressed against his seat as the fighter accelerated, and it lifted clear as he pulled back on his control stick. As his fighter climbed, he took a moment to look around. All around him, more IKAF fighters rose form Breenham air base. He checked his weapons load, lots of missiles, and plenty of ammo for the rotary cannons, he just hoped he got to use it before some German shot him down...

OOC: everyone else is following a green pilot's rise to becoming an ace, I'll do it too.