It was a nice cold morning in Thorpe Abotts, just like most mornings on the British Air Base. Most men were in the mess hall enjoying a meal, but not John “Bucky” Egan. He felt restless.

His best friend, Gale “Buck” Cleven kept insisting that he take a break, take a trip up to London or something of the sort. Maybe he would, but for not he was focused on the mission at hand. Or semi- focused on it at least.

As per usual Bucky began searching for a distraction, and that’s when he saw the perfect candidate, the perfect target for a little bit of foul play.

Walking up behind them he slung his arm across their shoulder, looking down at them.

“Well if it isn’t our very own Amelia Earhart.”