Eastern Europe: 1935
“General quarters! General quarters! Contacts spotted,” the voice on the intercom shouted.
The alarm klaxon, an irritating warbling sound, went off immediately after. A group of five men wearing flight helmets, goggles, and leather jackets threw down their card game and rushed from the parlor.
All over the zeppelin, crew ran to their stations. Despite being the youngest of the Misfit Squadron, Captain Sphinx was the highest ranking member. He lead the way through the chaotic passages, careful not to bang his head on a support beam as they arrived at the hangar. He was satisfied to find the doors open and the three biplanes props already started.
The planes, two Bristol F2B’s and one P6 Hawk, hung from a special hook that could be quickly detached and send them plummeting for a quick launch. His companions, Tex and Webste
'Phthp phtrggln', dmmmt!,' I snapped at them, prepared to trade almost any other moment in my life to have my mouth taped shut. They didn't seem to understand my polite instruction, and I couldn't entirely blame them.
It was hard to even move my fingers with the three of us pressed together like this, but I managed to get a hold of the rope binding Eliza's arms. Unfortunately, the knot seemed to be tied too low for me to reach--unlike my own, which I could feel pressing painfully against my forearms. I tapped Eliza's arm. She stopped making a racket and turned to me.
'Hmmm,' I grunted, jerking my head in the general direction of my arms. She turned her neck as far as it would seemingly go, her eye