The Confederation of Texas and New World Order Collide

A week and a half had passed in Ottawa, and things were changing. The Lasalle County Courthouse had gone under construction to be remodeled into the Key Councilette Building and the construction of the additional three runways at the new Starved Rock International Airbase, the former Skydive Chicago Airfield. 

However, this seemingly peaceful morning was interrupted by the new 1430-Warning System. Alarms wailed and paged all available pilots to SRIA on a triple time alert. This was no drill, nor an error of any kind. Mechanics scrambled, fitting newly built drop tanks to the Warbirds, Bombers and Jets as the pilots suited up for combat. 

"LISTEN UP!" Shouted the Ghost, "We have received an immediate scramble order for our allies in the C.T.R! The hurricane that had once blocked the New World Order's advance has dissipated and both the C.T.R and NWO are scrambling to get fighters in the air, and boots on the ground. Pilots, your orders are simple. Get to Texas, and kill anything sporting a New World Order Insignia. The Army will be transported to Texas by C-7's and any other transport aircraft we have! GET TO IT!"

As the pilots scrambled to their aircrafts, mechanics and ground crews sent wave after wave of aircraft into the sky. In the lead position was Mr. H, flying one of the two F-15's that had been recovered from the National Guard Base. 

"Alright everybody, form up and stay tight. We have Texans to rescue." Said H, as the last few stragglers formed up in their respective speed groups. Meanwhile, an Ottawa PD squad car flew onto the runway. 

"Ghost! Get in!" Yelled a voice from the car. The Ghost slid over the hood of the car and hopped in the passenger seat. 

"Thanks for the lift Chief Roalson. Get me to Dr. Sue's office and step on it."

The Squad Car ripped away from the Airbase, lights and sirens flashing and blaring throughout town. As Chief Roalson, drifted corners and floored it towards Libbey-Owen-Ford, the Ghost knew the impending battle would decide the fate of the United States and how their fight against the New World Order would go.

Meanwhile, two hours later, H and the Ottawan Strike Force had crossed into Texan Airspace. They kept their eyes peeled for anything that would signal them. 

"Switching from 3-2 to 4-8." Started H, "This is Mr. Hladovcak on frequency 4-8. Does anyone read me, over."

"Hladovcak, this is Confederation Airspace, transmit clearance code."

He transmitted the codes and the other voice directed them to the battle. 

"You all got here right when we needed you. Most of the CTR's early air response is running on fumes or have been reported KIA. We need you here at break-neck speeds."

"You got it. All fighters, push maximum throttle, piston-powered fighters and bombers push for W.E.P.S, (War Emergency Power Strength). They need us there right now!"

As the Strike Force reached the outskirts of the battle, President Keith was assisting on the front lines of the ground defense. 

"Son of a bitch!" Yelled Keith as bullets riddled the ridgeline they'd take up a defensive position at. "Where in the hell are our reinforcements?"

"I'm not sure Mr. President. I don't think the New Ottawan Coalition is coming."

"Well, we did our..."

President Keith was interrupted by the loud roar of jet engines.

"Sorry we're late President Keith. The Ghost sends his regards." Said H, as his F-15 and the rest of the O.S.F flew above him. Several C-7 Globemaster III transport aircraft began their runs, dropping O-61's, crates of ammunition, water, first aid and paratroopers to the ground. 

"Well I'll be... All units, be advised, the New Ottawan Coalition has arrived. I repeat the N.O.C has arrived!"

As H and the strike force crossed over the gulf, they prepped their drop tanks for release. 

"Twelve o'clock level H, incoming New World Order aircraft." radioed Jarrin L., his wingman. 

"All fighters, prepare to drop tanks."

H's glaze watched the incoming aircraft, waiting for just the right moment...then...."

"RELEASE TANKS! BREAK OFF AND ENGAGE!" yelled H over the comms. 

In unison, a legion of drop tanks plummeted to the water below. Bullets, rockets and missiles ripped across the sky as jets and planes dodged and maneuvered into their dogfights. H and Jarrin broke into a hard, left bank, engaging a group of fan-jet swarm fighters. As several aircraft feel from the battlefield in the heavens and splashed down into the gulf, one thing became clear to the Texans. The New Ottawan Strike Force had engaged the New World Order, and they hadn't come to lose.