Irrevocably Lost In The Twilight

I’ll be able to cope?

The woman looked at me hard, like I was responsible that we were being sent to Guyana and not France. I shrugged my shoulders and I donned the suit.

"Why disguise ourselves as well?" she asked, pulling the zipper.

"Because at 13,000 yards it is cold and oxygen is required when parachuting," I said, pointing to the helmet and tank.

"Parachuting? I could never do that! I don't know how. You have?" she asked. Her hands dropped the suit to her feet.

"There are many things that we can never do, yet we must!" I smiled sadistically and she went away to dress. I jumped into the cockpit and I turned on the radio, waiting for the starting signal. The woman was shaking and I felt no need to reassure her. She made me feel uncomfortable.

I knew that the mission was nearing its end and the excitement of returning had seized me. I had forbidden myself to get distracted by thinking about Alma, but I sensed that my calmness was slipping away slowly. I concentrated on the radio; I turned on the viewfinder and stared at the screen.

Still 110 seconds—

A soldier came running up to fix the plunger prior to launching. The steam pressure went up and I felt the plane shimmer like a puma, ready to fly.

"Roger! Roger!" said a voice in the headphones, startling the woman.

"5 to 5!"

"10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, GO!"

And I felt, as I did long ago, my stomach pressing my spine and giving me the impression that it would stay back on the track, while the airplane and my whole body sprang towards the sky. The woman gasped and I thought she was going to vomit, but after a scream, she simply fainted.

The sky was beautiful and the stars seemed to sparkle more than from the earth.

Ah! I really missed it!

"Estrange! It's a trap! Turn around!" a voice cried sharply in my ear like a blast inside my head.

We had been flying for a long time already and were approaching our destination when an indicator lighted, revealing a fuel problem. I pressed a button on the left side of the joystick and the little LED went out. The roar of the engine was the same - normal and reassuring - but I was monitoring it just in case.

"Will you tell me now?" I asked, raging inwardly.

"I've been trying to reach you since yesterday without success. Your f*****g answering machine automatically picked up. And your voicemail box must be full, because I could not leave you a message." He was worried and his voice trembled.

"You talk so much and never really say anything, Tyrone! I've already said this to you, I think!" I continued watching the viewfinder in search of small LED. "I told you, in my case, never use the phone. You figured out how to reach me anyway. So tell me what you have to tell me," I articulated, inspecting the radar.

"Yes, bah—" Tyrone did not finish his sentence before the light began to blink again.

"I thought that the F1 was still operational," I muttered at Tyrone, examining the blinking LED.

Behind me, the woman moved and tapped her finger on my helmet. I shrugged my shoulders and I pressed the same button again that I previously used to clear the light. However, this time, it continued to flash. I pressed another button, but nothing happened - the indicator did not go out.

"Nothing to worry about, I hope," said the woman.

"An electronic system failure probably, it seems okay for now. Don't worry," I continued and I smiled weakly in the dark night remembering Tyrone's words.

"Estrange—" Tyrone's voice resurfaced reminding me that he wanted to talk to me. "What's going on? A fuel problem, perhaps?" he asked, holding back on his questions for now. I began to think this was more than a single failure. "Yet you should have 3 hours worth, right?"

"Yes! I don't know what happened! I don't understand," I said, thinking aloud and still watching the central viewfinder display.

The roar of the engine was smooth and the aircraft tracked its path normally. The woman began to gasp and clap her hand constantly on her helmet. My eyes went from the viewfinder to the radar, which gave me no additional information except that this light was still flashing. No alarm was sounding.

"Perhaps it is a display problem." Tyrone said.

"Why did you call me, Tyrone? Why were you talking about when you said it was a trap?"

"You can still turn back and return to the aircraft carrier." said the woman and I smiled without answering.

"A trap for idiots?" I said slyly and awaited Tyrone's response.

"A trap for idiots," Tyrone repeated slowly, "No! I don't think so!" he said.

"So? Hurry up, Tyrone! I don't have time!" The central optical viewfinder irritated me and I began to search the map to identify the control tower at Kourou.

"The aircraft carrier! You can reach the aircraft carrier! Hello! Can you hear me?" cried the woman in the helmet. Her desperate voice annoyed me.

"I can't! Even if I issued a Mayday call, I'd have to wait! The aircraft carrier cannot immediately pick up us," I said, a reproach barely audible in my voice. "It's too far. We are near the coast. We can do it!" I growled, tightening the joysticks and staring at the radar.

"Estrange! What are you doing? You're not going to jump! Don't play their game! The trap will close on you and they will have won! I heard them well. They want someone in-house. I saw the folder. Everything matches! They are looking for you, Estrange!"

"Well! They found me then! I'm just over them! And I have fuel problems! s**t—" I cried and I cringed. "The plane is not heavily loaded. We can make it."

"Has this happened before?" the woman asked, almost whispering.

"I heard that it happened to someone else. The procedure says I need to empty the tanks located in the wings – it's not worth it, because they must be already empty from all this flying - and the tanks hanging under the wing – not worth the trouble either! But …?" I continued and I was angry now. "If not, it's only a problem with the electronic display."

"What if they gave you a plane with near empty tanks?" Tyrone said weakly.

"That doesn't make sense! They had no reason to do that!"

"Yes they did! So that you don't succeed!"

"And the bird?" I murmured, more to myself.

"The bird? What bird?" He did not know what I was talking about and it was possible that he was right. Two different operations in progress at the same time and both would result in my death. I did not answer him and I heard him sigh before continuing. "Okay! The ban—"

"Hmm! You think you'll be able to cope?"