Read Online Double Eagle by Dan Abnett - Free Book Online Page B

work.”
    “Yes, sir.” Darrow’s teeth were gritted.
    “Reserve isn’t so bad, Darrow,” Eads added. “You’ll be kept plenty busy, rewarding work. And if things come good, you could be flying again before the end of the year.”
    Darrow nodded.
    “Darrow?”
    “Yes, sir. I… Yes. I nodded, sir.”
    “Nodding doesn’t work for me, airman.”
    “Sorry, sir.”
    Eads walked back around his desk and resumed his seat. “Tell you what,” he said. “Just get it off your chest, Darrow.”
    “Sir?”
    “Speak your mind. Let’s get it done with.”
    Darrow glanced at Heckel. The major’s face seemed even paler than before, and his hands were both clearly shaking. But he shrugged an okay to Darrow.
    Darrow cleared his throat. “I know I’ve only been operational four weeks. I’m a cadet. All of that. And yesterday was a… a…”
    He looked at Heckel. Heckel frowned and shook his head.
    “Anyway, I believe I can fly, commander. I mean, I can fly well. I’ve hardly had the chance, and I hate to trumpet myself. But yesterday, I really felt I… There was this bat and…”
    “Yes, Darrow?”
    Darrow felt stupid even trying to say it. “It doesn’t matter, sir.”
    Eads sat forward and lifted a data-slate out of the pile to his left. He put it down in front of him. “Your modesty does you credit, cadet. I have Heckel’s report right here. It’s… How should I put it? Glowing, isn’t it, major?”
    “It’s just an account, sir,” said Heckel.
    “You took on that bat and flew your boots off. Instinctive, brilliant. The major praises you in no uncertain terms. Hell, If I’d seen you fly the way he said you did, I’d be calling for a commendation.”
    “You said that?” Darrow murmured.
    Heckel stared at the floor. “Just reporting what I saw, cadet.”
    “So, well done,” Eads said.
    Darrow blinked. “Sir… If I’ve earned such praise… If I’ve shown what I can do… why am I being sent to reserve?”
    “My choice, Darrow. Don’t you go blaming Heckel for this. His recommendation was to get you a transfer to Quarry Flight. But there’s this little matter…”
    “Sir?”
    “It was your first combat. Your first fly-fight. You did well, but that’s the way first fly-fights go. Novices usually die in those situations. The ones that survive seem to punch above their weight. And almost always, that’s down to luck. You did gloriously in one sortie, Darrow, but that doesn’t make a career. I decided to send you to reserve for that reason.”
    “Commander?”
    “Luck, cadet. I think, yesterday, you used up an entire lifetime of luck. You used it all in one dogfight. If I keep you active, you’ll be dead the next time you go out.”
    Darrow didn’t know what to say. He blinked. His mouth was dry.
    “So, are we done?” asked Eads.
    “Sir,” they both said, and left the office.
    Heckel caught up with Darrow on the stairs. “I’m sorry!” he said.
    Darrow looked back up at him. “God-Emperor, don’t be sorry, sir,” he said. “You didn’t have to make a report like that.”
    “I only wrote what I saw, Darrow. That piece of airmanship was fantas—”
    “You saved my life, sir. Gunning in like that. He had me. You saved my life.”
    Heckel hesitated, caught in the sunlight of the stairwell. “I did what I could,” he said.
    “You saved my life. He had me,” Darrow repeated.
    “But—”
    “Thank you,” Darrow said.
    Darrow continued on down the stairs and strode along the hall past the chapel. Only then did he notice the smudge.
    On the blackboard, the service of honour. The names of Hunt Flight. At the bottom of the list was a name that had been written up in chalk and then smudged off.
    It was his own.
     
    Theda MAB South, 13.01
    The chainmail aviator’s glove thumped onto the desktop like a lead weight.
    “I borrowed that from stores,” Bree Jagdea said. “So, do you want to explain or should I smash you round the face with it?”
    Wing Leader Etz Seekan looked