Artificial Horizon - A César Fernando Basa x Reader story

XLV - Adverse Yaw

Yaw caused by aileron drag, in the opposite direction to the direction of the intended turn.

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Capt. Jesús Villamor

The war had now given the boys a mien of maturity. They are chatting in low tones, the talk of the enemy possibly striking the airfield. No doubt that even Batangas is on their mind not to be spared. Despite that, no one openly talked about matters of life and death. That's why, it surprises me to hear that, away from such a crowd, César has such thoughts be remarked so casually.

"Sa kabila ng napakarami kong pangarap sa buhay. Minsan... No, rather... I suddenly feel like I am running out of time."

I don't know why I find it strange to hear such words from a man full of life and strength. From someone who is months younger than me, but seems to have a much more mature mindset than I'll ever have... From someone who seems prepared for whatever happens today or tomorrow... From someone who is about to be a married man, and at the same time, appear like someone who is just waiting for things to change somehow...

But, I guess, I shall learn some lessons from that, too. Or else, I'll forever be delusional that life will always be fair, and that death will be forgiving.

The plane vibrates against my feet preparing for some needed rudder. I keep a good watch of my altitude of five thousand feet—a safe altitude clear of obstructions—but the enemies are three thousand feet above, flying overhead from what I counted to be of two formations, each consists of twenty-seven twin-engine bombers closing in to Batangas from the north and south.

It is definitely a surprise; as we haven't heard anything from César for the first phase of his flight on to Nasugbu, and the second phase around Ragay Gulf. But looking on from where they're coming from all denotes that they came from the west—only motioning by now to pincer Batangas in an attack; and I pray that César, coming from the east, will have some sense. I am just fearful that his instincts will call on in despite much lesser fuel.

And if all of us survived this affair, I'll make sure that I'll throw that well-deserving punch at him that I manage to suppress from last night.

Tangina mo talaga, Basa, I almost scream at the radio frequency. But everyone else attuned to the frequency, aside from our six fleet men, had been shouting over the radio in frantic right after signaling all planes to attack, swooping down against the bombers and firing short bursts.

It is a common strategy in aerial combat to always have a wingman. Hot-headed and too much confident myself, I'll actually shake them off when César, returning from his almost three-hour patrol, falls into position as my wingman. But in the midst of a battle with too little chances of survival, I just hope that I'll remember reprimanding him for being too reckless and careless when I tell him otherwise.

I remember my promise—or rather, the deal—with him before leaving Manila yesterday. Nothing much more of a confrontation as this; hence that earlier reconnaissance and be back on base. I guess, he is the fool one to go against it; causing me to remember that fiancée of his.

I think you're actually marrying a dead man walking, (L/N).

Clouds offer much cover. The more altitude we gain, the more the clouds become our shields from the Zeros that accompanied those bombers. It is easy to say that the target are those bombers who certainly has the goal of bombing Batangas, all the while the Zeros served as guards to stop us from stopping them. However, no matter how every man is for himself—seven Zeros against one or even more—I can't shake off the Zeros, the same as César sticking to his position as my wingman.