Aiden "Frosty" Kelly
The landscape of the island was dotted with smoking wreckage and the brown impact craters of missiles, rockets, and bombs. Frosty had wrapped around for a second attack, but noticed the lack of targets. Apparently, the other wingmen in the squadron had done a hell of a job in the opening attacks of this battle. A quick look around in the air also showed a lot less aircraft than had originally been present, and based on the talk on the radio, the majority of the hostile targets had been destroyed.
On the ground unit's channel, though, they were calling in for another strike. Apparently, what was being reported as a light attack vehicle and a supply truck were still harassing what was left of the ground forces. Frosty dipped his aircraft back down in an attack run. He'd been extremely efficient in his first run, and had more than enough munitions to deal with these targets, which would never see him coming. Again, Frosty dropped to a couple thousand feet and increased his speed to just above seven-hundred miles per hour. First to go was the supply truck. It was off on its own, apparently a lucky survivor of the other attacks. Since it was so unprepared for what was about to happen, Frosty was patient enough to wait until he'd closed to four-thousand meters before he depressed the button to his rocket pods. He fired six rockets, one right after the other before pulling away to the right and bleeding off his speed. From his position, he watched the rockets pepper the area around the supply truck, the explosions catching the truck as well. There must have been munitions in the back of the vehicle, because it went up in a cloud of smoke and scattered it's debris everywhere.
Next on his list was the light attack vehicle. Frosty angled right until the vehicle was directly in front of him. It was already within six-thousand meters and closing, and he could see the vehicle from here firing on allied units near the bridge. Not for much longer. It was apart from the allies, and the vector Frosty was coming in at was safe, so Frosty opened up his revolver canon before firing another half-dozen rockets on the small hillock the vehicle was on. Frosty bled off as much speed as possible so he could watch. The bullets impacted like heavy rain, and he watched the cannon fire punch the ground before a couple rounds slammed into the engine hood of the vehicle. Damn, he was off by a few feet from the center. It was only a half-second more before the rockets turned the hillock into debris, with the vehicle in the explosion turning into so much shrapnel and scrap. Frosty nodded to himself and pulled up to join his near-victorious wingmates.
<<Frosty here. Two ground targets scrapped. Think that's it for enemy ground presence.>>
In total, that was four. Two anti-air trucks, and two light vehicles. Frosty smiled to himself as his aircraft hit ten-thousand feet. When he could back, he'd get four more little Humvee decals on the side of his plane, where several similar decals and tank and helicopter decals, and a single ship decal, already existed. He may not fight the fast-movers, but Frosty fancied himself an angel of death for those that couldn't hit the speed of sound.
<< Null again. My orders haven’t changed. Form up and head back to base. >>
The orders and conversation drew Frosty from his daydreaming. Frosty banked his aircraft hard and doubled back towards where his flight had originally broken up for engagement. They'd avoided a large squadron, it seemed, but Frosty had no doubt that it wouldn't be the last time they'd see that flight, and many more like it, from here on out. A war had started and it wasn't going to end in a single battle.
