Jack and Lucas were given their orders to quickly patrol the beaches of Miami for enemy submarines, but it seemed to be a rather quiet day along the beaches.

"All's quiet here. Over," Jack radioed to Lucas.

"Read you loud and clear, Jack," Lucas responded. "I'll give the beach the once over just to make sure. Krauts are a crafty lot you know. Over."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Goldstein...you're bored, aren't you? Over."

Lucas sighed, feeling as if his eyes could close at any moment. "You have no idea, Jack. I'm about ready to lose it! Over."

"Heh, same here. I ask the colonel every day to give me a better position than just patrolling the beaches for submarines. But he keeps giving me the same answer...no! Over."

"What is wrong with him anyway? Doesn't the guy trust us? After all the hell we've been through already? Over," Lucas retorted, getting a little miffed at supposedly being treated unfairly in his mindset.

Jack rolled his eyes, remembering that Goldstein was new to the army and hadn't experienced the full casualties of war. "You're just a rookie, kid. Besides, you weren't there in Hawaii when the Japs threw us that surprise attack. Over."

Lucas recalled his place. "My fault, Jack. I'm not the one that should be bellyaching," he said. Momentarily, Lucas twiddled his thumbs and looked at his radar screen. Still, nothing appeared there and the ocean seemed to be clear of enemy subs as well. That was until a faint blip appeared on his radar. Lucas radioed Jack, "I think I found something. Seems to be a U-boat, six o'clock, coming our way, and fast! Over!"

Jack's eyes widened and quickly fixated his eyes on his radar screen. He too saw a faint blip moving away from the beaches. "I see it too," he radioed to Lucas. "But it's probably just a whale or something, don't get carried away. Over."

Lucas paid Jack no heed. He didn't care if Jack was right. His intuition told him it was something more than just a whale. Disobeying a direct order, he followed after the blip as fast as he could.

Jack quickly saw Lucas fly off towards the ocean and radioed him. "Lucas, what are you doing? I said not to get carried away, we have our orders, get back here! Over!" There was no answer. Jack rolled his eyes and sighed. "That had better be a submarine, or else I'm gonna tan his hide!" Jack then took the wheel and quickly began flying his plane in the direction of Lucas'. "Alright, Lucas, we'll check it out," he radioed. "But if it's not a submarine, we head straight back, you copy? Over."

Lucas begrudgingly picked up his receiver. "Copy that, Captain. Over," he said in a half-hearted tone.

It seemed that on the horizon, there was a storm brewing. "Odd. Nothing in the forecast called for rain, as far as I recall, Over," Lucas relayed via radio.

Jack too saw the oncoming storm, and didn't like the look of it. "It doesn't look very pleasant," he radioed Lucas. "Let's turn around and head back to base. Over."

But unfortunately, neither one of them could see where they were going. "It's going to be rough flyin' headin' back. You sure we're gonna make it in one piece? Over," Lucas questioned, a tinge of worry in his tone.

Jack was beginning to worry too. "If we turn around now, fly as fast as we can, and pray to god…I'd call that a miracle. Over."

The lightning began to flash in the dark clouds, rippling through them fiercely. The two pilots had thought they had been turned back to base safely, but this wasn't the case. In fact, they were headed in the direction of the Bermuda Triangle.

While Lucas seemed to be caught in turbulence, Jack was doing everything in his power to steer him and his fellow soldier back to safety. "Lucas? Lucas, do you read? Over." Jack relayed via radio, but the radios had gone dead. "Damn!" he cursed silently as he pounded his fist onto the console of the plane. It seemed that there would be getting no signal through to him.

Despite the fact the signals were jammed, Jack kept hailing his friend. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a clap of thunder nearly deafened him and a bolt of lightning struck his plane, which caused his plane to careen out of control. "Steady, girl! Steady!" he mumbled, trying to maintain balance out of the tailspin his plane had dove into. The moment he gained control back, the clouds were beginning to dissipate. But, Lucas was nowhere to be found.

Quickly, Jack picked up the receiver and tried to radio his comrade. "Lucas, Lucas, where are you, over!" When there was no reply and only static as a response, Jack became worried. What could have happened to his friend?

Jack's attention was suddenly diverted when he saw a large red cargo plane under attack by enemy fighters. The fighters resembled old World War I planes, which Jack thought was unusual. But, that was beside the point. The large cargo plane was in trouble and clearly had no way of defending itself against the enemy planes, which surrounded the unarmed plane like mad hornets.

Jack grabbed his receiver and quickly tried to radio the cargo plane. "Cargo plane, this is Captain Jack Armstrong, I repeat, this is Captain Jack Armstrong," he said into the receiver. "I see that you're under attack, do you have any weapons to defend yourself? Over."

"We are currently in dire need of assistance, Captain Armstrong," said a voice from over the radio, clearly being one of the pilots of the cargo plane. "We are being attacked by air pirates and we have completely run out of ammo. Over."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Air pirates? Are you sure? Over."

The level-headed co-pilot responded. "Yes, a whole slew of them. We're doing all we can to dodge their bullets, but as you can see, we're surrounded from all sides. Over."

Jack had quite a dilemma on his hands. On the one hand, there was the issue with Lucas and if he was alive or dead. Secondly, Jack knew the cargo pilots were in danger. It was perfectly clear that he was caught in the middle of a challenging decision. Girding himself, he decided to help the cargo pilots first. Then, if Lucas was still alive, he would try relaying another radio signal to him in hopes he would reply. For the moment, he said a silent prayer for his friend, having all faith that he was alive somehow.

Jack then radioed the cargo plane again, "Don't worry, help is on the way. Over and out!" He then steered his plane behind one of the biplanes that had a red and black paint job, slid down his goggles over his eyes, and tightened his grip on the steering wheel, ready to fire. "Eat lead, slag!"

He began firing a barrage of bullets at the pirates that had been bullying the cargo plane so fiercely. As skilled as these other pilots were, they were no match for Jack's daring do in the sky. Jack couldn't see the pilots steering the other planes but didn't much care. They seemed to be worthy adversaries so far. The cargo ship could shake off some of the other pirates surrounding it and head for safety until the dogfight had come to a stop. It didn't seem that this dogfight was coming to a close anytime soon though.

Jack's skills far outranked the pirates' but he was still outnumbered immensely. 'Damn! They don't seem to show any sign of backing off any time soon. Man, Lucas, if you were here maybe I'd have a fighting chance, but wherever you are, I just hope you're better off than I am!"

Even though Jack knew he was vastly outnumbered, he fought against the oncoming pirate fighters. Eventually, the cargo plane had flown out of sight, somewhere safe. Jack felt a sense of relief wash over him. Suddenly the pirates began backing off, and Jack felt a surge of confidence. "That's right, you clowns! Can't face the heat, then might as well stay out of the kitchen, huh?" he taunted them. Unfortunately, the dog fight had left Jack's radio out of order due to it being damaged. 'Now, if I only knew where I was,' he thought to himself.

Jack gawked around at the scenery around him for a bit, taken aback by the sprawling tropics. It was reminiscent of an island resort, for some odd reason. He still had absolutely no clue as to where he was and none of his maps could help him a certain a location. He was becoming a bit frustrated, but in the distance he could see what looked like to be land.

In the distance, he could see magnificent mountains that seemed to rise out of the ocean like sentinels. In fact, one could say they were sentinels in a way. These massive cliffs were protected by anti-aircraft guns that didn't allow any foreigners, friendly or not entry into the cape, and Jack was of no acceptation here. Thinking these were normal mountains he could simply bypass, Jack headed near them and began to make his descent.

All of a sudden, the gunners began firing at him. Miffed, Jack tried radioing them, asking them why they were firing at him. "Captain Armstrong to gunners, I repeat, Captain Armstrong to gunners. This is a United States military aircraft, cease fire immediately and let me pass. Over."

But he had forgotten his radio had been damaged during the dog fight with the pirates. Having had looked at his scrapped radio, he silently swore to himself, slid back his cockpit window, and began shouting at the gunners. "Damn it, stop shooting at me, you morons! I'm an American! Can't you tell the difference?"

He wasn't certain who had shot him or where these mystery gunners were but one of the shots had damaged his propeller and his gas tank. "Aw, hell!" he cursed, biting his lower lip for a second as the plane started to hurtle down toward the shoreline. Worst of all, the landing gear was jammed so he had no way of landing safely. He thought of just bailing out, but he was descending to fast.

As the plane came careening down it began to warp and rip apart. The force was so great that the tail ripped off the back and the right wing were completely obliterated. The plane began rolling until it came to a complete stop outside of a little building that had a sign a few blocks away from it. At that time though, Jack had hit his head, hard, against the console, and completely blacked out in the process. All he could see was darkness, and hear nothing but silence.