Domination Drone: The Era of the Drone Wars

EVIL

CHAPTER ONE

THE MISSION

There was a dim overhead light in the flight prep room that was lined with metal lockers and worn wooden benches. A young officer partially dressed in flight gear, hunched over in prayer. The lonely pilot, present this early morning, was Air Force Captain Richard Simonson. He was moments away from engaging in a classified military operation that would challenge all of his unique skills.

The young officer’s mother had been right all along. From an early age, he’d seen the future laid out in brilliant clarity. At 22, Simonson has already lived a life of a 40-year-old man in his mind and felt the suffering of extreme challenges.

Simonson’s mother grew up a gypsy traveling around Europe, and lived a free and uncivilized life of star gazing and learning about her gift from her elders. Her family had been gifted with clairvoyance skills that would enable their minds to see the future through extrasensory perception. The ones who were in good health, like his mother, could see further into the unknown and guided the siblings and cousins that had fallen on ill health. Her instincts would lead them until the catastrophe of war had decimated most of her family and friends.

He had asked his mother, How can I enjoy a life knowing the pain and tragedy that awaits me?

Your challenge my son, is to use your visionary gifts to help others who are less fortunate and unaware of what is to come, explained Simonson’s mother.

As a product of your environment, his childhood left him with a challenging imbalance of security. Knowing the future is not the problem…it’s the responsibility to act or not act from what was so apparently visible from the gift.

It had been unlikely that his mother, Rose, would meet a man of uniform, but on a cold day in Eastern Europe, during a military exercise, the man who would become his father, was piloting a plane that developed a fuel leak and crash-landed in a remote area outside of Poland. Rose had seen the crash and rushed came to the rescue of the two pilots. She had stopped the blood flow from the major lacerations, and bandaged their scorched skin from the fire, and cleaned their bodies from the soot and fuel that had leaked from the aircraft. She had grown up appreciating God’s gift of life, becoming a great healer. Rose’s love had transcended time and forged bonds with many people over the years.

Samuel Simonson, a United States Air Force pilot had never experienced such care as he did during this heroic rescue. What could have been a horrible tragedy, ended up as a welcomed detour in his life. Samuel fell instantly in love with this caring gypsy woman. They married, and the two remained together for twenty years. She’d predicted that he would die in another plane crash later on in his life…and eventually, he did. He was a skilled and dedicated pilot and fearless to the end.

After the death of his father, Simonson found solace in following his footsteps. As a young man, he joined the Air Force and was soon placed in specialized training for missions that were uniquely sensitive, and of classified nature. At the time, Simonson had been in the best of health—young, strong and mentally prepared to take on any challenge. He quickly moved up the ranks to Captain, and his ability to read situations led him to creatively and effectively outsmart the enemy. The military focused on Simonson’s skills for the next important mission.

During the 1960’s, there was a special black project…the SR-71 Blackbird, developed from Lockheed’s Skunk Works division. This revolutionary spy plane was the most advanced air-breathing manned aircraft, able to fly Mach 3 plus—designed for strategic reconnaissance missions. The SR-71 Blackbird was intended to survey the enemy at very high altitudes with optical/infrared imagery systems, Side Looking Airborne Radar, Electronic Intelligence gathering systems, also equipped with defensive systems for countering missile and airborne fighters.

This was the first fuselage in stealth technology with flattened and tapered sides designed to minimize radar cross section. It’s dark blue color acted as camouflage against the night sky, thus the call sign, "Blackbird." Flying this aircraft had been the most coveted experience for any pilot. Even many years later, nothing on the planet would compare to the Blackbird.

The Air Force retired the SR-71 Blackbird program in 1998 due to budgetary constraints. However, the group at Creech Air Force Base kept one of the planes and it’s back-up crew as support for a potential emergency recon mission. The original SR-71 Blackbird had been designed with dual-cockpits—one for the pilot and the other one for the Reconnaissance Systems Officer.

On this particular mission, they trained Simonson to pilot the craft solo, and all reconnaissance would be controlled remotely from Groom Lake, Nevada, in what the military called their new Remotely Controlled Platform.

He’d spoken to his mother yesterday, and she’d always had a way of calming him in times of anxiety. He resisted discussing the mission with her; she was well aware of that. An average trained Air Force pilot would accept his orders and never question mission expectations…Simonson questioned every last detail.

On the eve of the Iraq invasion in 2006, it was Simonson’s mission to fly into Iraq in complete darkness and identify the shifting Surface to Air Missiles of Sadam’s Army—the only real threat that the Iraqi military possessed. The White House labeled them, Weapons of Mass Destruction.

Upon the success of his mission, the first strike would use acquired coordinates, eliminate all Surface to Air Missiles and the U.S. Military would have air superiority. Simonson has already seen the incredible results of this war, but his fate is still fuzzy.

Captain Simonson, you have 10 minutes, Sir, said the MP as he knocked on the flight room door.

Thank you, responded Simonson.

He gathered his flight gear and helmet, slowly walking through the brightly-lit corridors. The MP escorted Simonson into a large corrugated hangar. The awesome SR-71 Blackbird awaited his presence. She looked amazing! How could the American people achieve such unbelievable advances in military weaponry, in such a short period of existence?

It had been over ten years since a SR-71 Blackbird was flown in a combat mission. The crew had been working for weeks preparing the plane for this flight, and the training missions were completed with the slightest of issues. Simonson ignored most of the specialized cameras and monitoring being installed aft of the pilot’s cockpit, but questioned the omission of a co-pilot.

The two officers, who trained him, met him at the ladder. They wished him a safe journey assuring him that everything was prepared for his safety. The officers reminded him to abort the mission if any malfunction or enemy attack endangered his life. Simonson slowly ascended the ladder, and prepared his pre-flight routine as the crew towed the SR-71 Blackbird onto the tarmac.

The SR-71 had to be jump-started by an AG330 start cart, powered by a Chevrolet 350 cubic inch V-8 engine. Simonson sat for several minutes in prayer, until the large Pratt and Whitney J58 specially designed jet engines were ignited.

There had been only thirty-two SR-71 Blackbirds manufactured. Six or so were designed for training. Twelve had crashed at various stages of testing and employ, yet none had been shot down. The rest of the world had only seen the two that were now in museums.

SR-71 BLACKBIRD READY FOR TAKEOFF, reported Simonson.

SR-71 BLACKBIRD CLEAR FOR TAKEOFF. GOOD LUCK CAPTAIN, said Command and Control.

"It was eerie flying in total darkness, but all of our training was completed at night to emulate the actual mission," thought Simonson to himself. He was aware that his sleeping patterns had changed over the last two weeks and that his body had ample time to adjust to the night elements. His night vision was much improved from the training.

It was a dark night with just a slice of a moon…perfect for a surprise visit, thought Simonson. Every time I move the thruster controls forward, the pure power transcends all my senses to another level, and my body is forced into another spectrum of complete awareness from this magnificent machine, or air vehicle as the new engineers like to call it.

BASE COMMAND, SR-71 APPROACHING 10,000 FEET AND CLIMBING. SHE’S PURRING LIKE A KITTEN. KEEP MY COFFEE WARM, I WILL BE HOME BEFORE DAWN, reported Simonson.

COPY THAT SR-71. PREPARE FOR REFUELING INTERCEPT IN ZERO SEVEN MINUTES, said Command and Control.

The SR-71 always took off with a partial fuel load to reduce stress on the brakes and tires, and in the event one engine failed, the other one could lift the craft off the ground. The craft needed to refuel in the air to make the long journey from Europe to the Middle East. The crew has been practicing the refueling at night for weeks, and everything went as planned.

BASE COMMAND, SR-71 BLACKBIRD HAS COMPLETED REFUELING AND CLIMBING TO 50,000 FEET AT MACH 2.5, reported Simonson

COPY THAT SR-71. PROCEED ON PREDETERMINED COURSE AND INCREASE VELOCITY TO MACH 3.5 AFTER ACHIEVING CRUSING SPEED ALTITUDE. COMPUTER READINGS ARE REPORTING ALL SYSTEMS FUNCTIONING WELL. said Command and Control.

COPY THAT, reported Simonson.

Cruising at 50,000 feet above earth, at three times the speed of sound is awesome! I can actually see the earth’s curvature…oceans look like lakes…I can see major portions of entire continents, thought Simonson.

The SR-71 Blackbird was equipped with sophisticated computers and a SATNAV system that enhanced the use of Trilateration, locking onto no less than 3 satellites simultaneously. When flying at world record speeds, a continual fix on your location is needed.

Many prominent military generals and congressional leaders argued to save the Blackbird program, but the advancement of satellite imagery in real time caused the shelving of the most awesome spy plane in history. Originally, the photos and video taken by the Blackbird needed to be brought back to the base and processed for viewing. Present surveillance systems now send data to Command and Control remotely in real time.

Simonson was briefed on the updated imagery equipment, controlled remotely by Command and Control. His mission was to get the surveillance equipment in position to spy on possible Weapons of Mass Destruction, and allow the technology to report back the coordinates of his findings, and to pinpoint and support a first strike.

SR-71 Blackbird…WE NEED A REPORT ON COCKPIT TEMPERATURE, said Command and Control.

BASE COMMAND…FORWARD COCKPIT IS 85 DEGREES, reported Simonson.

SR-71 BLACKBIRD…WHAT IS THE TEMPERATURE IN THE REAR COCKPIT? asked Command and Control.

BASE COMMAND…REAR COCKPIT TEMPERATURE IS 125 DEGREES FARENHEIT, reported Simonson.

SR-71 BLACKBIRD…WE ARE HAVING A PROBLEM ACQUIRING VIDEO FEED IN REAL TIME. WE SUSPECT THAT THE REAR AIR CONDITIONING IS MALFUNCTIONING. TURN OFF BOTH AC UNITS AND ADJUST ALTITUDE TO 30,000 FEET TO HELP COOL THE AIRCRAFT AND REDUCE AIR SPEED TO MACH 2.5. DO YOU COPY? asked Command and Control.

ROGER THAT BASE COMMAND, responded Simonson.

The air conditioning system had to be altered to make room for the enlarged newly improved resolution camera computer back-ups. The amount of pressure on the titanium body of the aircraft at Mach 3 plus speeds heats the metal skin to 500 degrees Fahrenheit as a result of friction. The inside temperature of the windshield can reach 250 degrees Fahrenheit.

BASE COMMAND. AIR SPEED MACH 2.5, ALTIMETER READING 30,000 FEET, reported Simonson.

ROGER THAT. WE ARE DEACTIVATING THE POWER UNITS TO THE RECON EQUIPMENT, STAND BY, said Command and Control.

BASE COMMAND. I CAN ALREADY SEE WHERE THIS IS GOING…I’M NOT GOING TO SCRUB THIS MISSION DUE TO A FAULTY AC UNIT. YOU WANT THE LOCATION OF THE MOTHER LOAD…I WILL MANUALLY CALL IT IN THE OLD FASHIONED WAY, reported Simonson.

SR-71 BLACKBIRD, NEGATIVE! GROUND STATION ASSURES US THE SURVEILANCE EQUIPMENT WILL BE BACK ON-LINE IN LESS THAN TEN MINUTES. STEADY AIR SPEED TO MACH 2.5 AT 30,000 FEET, responded Command and Control.

BASE COMMAND, IN 15 MINUTES I WILL BE FLYING OVER BAGHDAD, AND WE WILL MISS OUR OPPORTUNITY AT THIS ALTITUDE. I SUGGEST WE LOWER THE CEILING TO 10,000 FEET…I WILL FLY IN HOT AND MANUALLY CALL IN THE COORDINATES OF THE SURFACE TO AIR MISSILES, reported Simonson.

CAPTAIN SIMONSON, THIS IS GENERAL PARKINSON AT THE PENTAGON. WE HAVE BEEN LISTENING IN ON YOUR FLIGHT TRANSMISSION. All IS GO ON INVADING IRAQ WITHIN THE NEXT 4-6 HOURS, AND YOUR MISSION WHETHER IT BE SUCESSFUL OR NOT…WE WILL NOT FAIL TO CONTROL IRAQ AIRSPACE IN THE FIRST DAY OF THE INVASION.

YES GENERAL! said Captain Simonson.

CAPTAIN, I WILL GIVE YOU A 20 MINUTE WINDOW TO LOWER THE CEILING OF YOUR APPROACH TO 15,000 FEET… TRY TO COMPLETE YOUR MISSION. IS THAT CLEAR CAPTAIN, ordered General Parkinson.

YES SIR, said Captain Simonson.

SON, WE HAVE RESOURCES IN PLACE IF YOU RUN INTO RESISTANCE. WHAT WE NEED FROM YOU IS TWO COORDINATES. THE FIRST IS THE MAIN INSTALLATION OF THE SURFACE TO AIR MISSILES, AND THE OTHER IS YOUR EMERGENCY LANDING LOCATION. YOU WILL NOT BE LEFT BEHIND. IS THAT CLEAR, insisted General Parkinson.

"YES SIR! I WILL FIND THE MOTHER LOAD.

CAPTAIN…YOU HAVE 20 MINUTES, AND YOU GET THE BLACKBIRD OUT OF IRAQ HOWEVER YOU CAN! THIS IS GENERAL PARKINSON AT THE PENTAGON…OUT.

I WILL SIR, responded Captain Simonson.

COMMAND AND CONTROL…LOWERING CEILING TO 15,000 FEET AND GOING HOT INTO ENEMY TERRITORY SOUTH OF BAGHDAD, reported Captain Simonson.

This is the exact type of mission that Simonson was trained for—utilizing his unique senses to purge into the abyss—and find the unknown. This is his moment and greatest opportunity to help his country.

Simonson focused on the gauges and drove the Blackbird into a vicious banked turn at Mach 2.4 over the city of Rutba, just over the corner of Syria and Jordan on the western most area of Iraq.

His hunch was that Sadam’s major forces would be surrounding Baghdad to the south. The spy coalition reported just a few days ago that Ramadi, Karbala and Najaf would be the top three target areas to check out.

It’s still a few hours until first light, so things appear quiet on the ground. It was hard to mask a major invasion. Simonson could feel that the enemy knew he was coming.

He slowed the craft so he could see more clearly. Night vision capabilities made everything large and military equipment made of heavy metal stood out better at night. Ramadi was just ahead, and in the distance, three rockets were launched ahead of the Blackbird, just 60 miles to the north.

"They know I’m here, I expected it," said Simonson to himself.

This spy plane was designed to out fly surface to air missiles. The first few rockets were way off track, and subsided over the barren desert to the south.

The town of Karbala was one of the most likely choices for installations, since there was a large road connecting the capitol to this area. Everything calm and stealthy just became loud and visible, as several military posts awakened to the arrival of the Blackbird spy plane.

"Let’s wake up the whole country and see what you got!" yelled Simonson at the images on the ground.

Although, he was trained as a combat pilot to be calm under the most extreme conditions, Simonson’s heart rate spiked through his insulated flight suit, and that triggered his gift of intuition into hyper gear.

Find the mother load and get the hell out of dodge! The General gave me only 6 more minutes, thought Simonson.

Another group of rockets launched from the eastern side of Karbala. The Blackbird’s heading and the rockets were on a collision course. Jamming devices and electronic warfare fought off the rockets… three of the rockets were averted.

One rocket stayed on course, and tore off a portion of the Blackbird’s port side wing. The engine caught fire and failed. Smoke filled the cockpit, and a small fire began burning behind Simonson where the latest RECON equipment had been installed. Simonson made the necessary adjustments keeping altitude with one engine, and activated the interior fire extinguishing system.

The next town of Najaf was his last hope! He banked the craft to the north and then extremely to the southwest to cross over Najaf cleanly, basically flying by instruments as the cockpit became clouded. Along a small outcropping of rocks, just northeast of Najaf and to the southwest of the town of Kut, Simonson faintly spotted a large gathering of heavy equipment. He could barely see now through the charred windshield.

"This could be it! Was it the mother load of Sadam’s ground game? I could feel it in my loins that this is it!

It was almost perfectly situated between Saudi Arabia and Baghdad to the north." The pilot lowered his elevation to 12,000 feet to take a closer look. Simonson viewed twelve large groupings of military rocket installations, guarded by ground forces, and several tanks with light infantry sprinkled along a slight ridge affording the Iraqi military protection to the north, and a strategic view to the south.

This is it! yelled Simonson. He could see the mother load clearly. As fast as he could think to call in the coordinates, a mass of rockets and small artillery caught his path; he took another hit to the tail section of the craft. The Blackbird was a sitting duck heading right into the masses of Sadam’s major defense. Simonson’s ability to pilot the craft skyward was denied by the damage.

BASE COMMAND! DO YOU READ ME! pleaded Simonson.

There was no response.

BASE COMMAND, DO YOU READ ME? More smoke filled the cockpit and now, reading instrumentation was next to impossible.

DAMN IT, BASE COMMAND COME IN! begged Simonson!

Simonson heard the crackling of the radio and made the assumption they could hear him, even though he could not hear them.

BASE COMMAND! THIS IS SR-71 BLACKBIRD’S FINAL RADIO TRANSMISSION. MOTHER LOAD LOCATED 32 DEGREES NORTH AND 44.33 DEGREES EAST JUST TO THE SOUTH OF THE EUPHRATES RIVER. BLACKBIRD DAMAGED FROM ENEMY FIRE…SUSTAINED CREDIBLE DAMAGE. I WILL ATTEMPT TO LAND 50 MILES WEST OF SALMAN AS CLOSE TO THE BORDER OF SAUDI ARABIA AS POSSIBLE, reported Captain Simonson.

Simonson had no assurance that his message had been heard, as the cockpit engulfed in flame and smoke. He was not going to parachute to his death close to a city, so he fought to keep the plane heading southwest until he barely saw 500 feet on the altimeter, losing altitude with every slight engine propulsion.

Simonson could feel the last engine stall; he felt the craft gliding with no propulsion…the cockpit was completely smoke filled…he had no idea how high off the ground he was. The craft could hit the ground at any moment. Simonson knew he completed his mission and found Sadam’s motherload, and surely saved American lives. Somehow he knew his last radio transmission got through to base command. The last 5 seconds felt eerie…the aircraft was failing to fly any longer.

I can hear the ground getting near. Doing everything I can to slow the craft while gliding on whatever wind I could find. I missed my mother’s calm words, and I want my father to know I’m a true patriot to the end," thought Simonson during possibly his last living moments.

"I should have been more afraid, and bailed. My intuitions told me there’d be trouble on this mission…I tried to do the impossible, because I was always told I could."

The Blackbird’s underbelly scuffed the first part of the earth, and Simonson braced himself for the worst. Everything turned to black.

CHAPTER TWO

LIVE OR DIE

The East Coast was a nice place to be from, but the West Coast was always on her to do list. Nancy Taylor graduated from the University of Maryland as a nurse, and promoted to the department of physical rehabilitation at the Veterans Hospital outside of D.C. She found an opening on the Veterans Administration job board, for a specialized position in southern California.

Nurse Nancy quickly forwarded her resume to the Veterans HR California Division, and followed up with a call the next day to make sure they received her credentials. Two years out of nursing school, she was confident to tackle any new venture. No more shoveling snow and layering multiple sweaters; she always hated the cold weather. For years on New Years day, she would watch the Rose Bowl from Pasadena on January 1st, and the fans in attendance would be wearing t-shirts and shorts, playing catch in the parking lot before the game with sunglasses and hats to offset the sunshine. Ah…what a life!

Her afternoon break seemed like a good time to call California, taking in consideration the time change and all. She remembered that it was important that calls be completed in the morning when people are fresh minded, and ready to make decisions.

My name is Nancy Taylor, and I am looking to speak to Anita Hernandez in the HR Department.

Please hold Ms. Taylor, I will connect you to HR, said the hospital operator.

Human Resources, can I help you.

My name is Nancy Taylor, and I’m calling for Anita Hernandez.

Please hold.

This is Anita Hernandez!

Ms. Hernandez…my name is Nurse Nancy Taylor, and I wanted to discuss the position you are trying to fill for Specialized Therapy.

Ah Ms. Taylor, thank you for calling. You refer to yourself as Nurse Nancy? asked Ms. Hernandez.

That’s my nickname here in DC…Nurse Nancy.

I like that, commented Ms. Hernandez. Nurse Nancy, we have a special patient that has been with us for two years. He’s has made very little progress, and we need someone who’s suited to handle this particular patient.

What kind of injuries does he have? asked Nurse Nancy.

Well…he was in a horrific plane crash and broke several bones, ruptured all kinds of organs, and a whole laundry list of P.T.S.D effects, explained Ms. Hernandez.

Excitedly, Nurse Nancy responded. That type of case is right up my alley. I have developed a combination of physical and mental exercises that help these type of patients.

Let me ask you a few questions, Nurse Nancy…I see you graduated with honors from University of Maryland and were promoted to co-head of the physical therapy program at D.C. are you working with Doctor Richard Garner? asked Ms. Hernandez.

I am working with Doc Garner! Doc Garner has re-engineered our physical therapy procedures into a boot-camp style program that the men and women in uniform can relate to. He has taught me so much…I just love working with him, answered Nurse Nancy.

Doc Garner and I shared drinks at a convention in Las Vegas a few years back, and he was the key note speaker. I need a protégé of his in our facility. When can you get here? asked Ms. Hernandez.

You mean I have the job? answered Nurse Nancy excitedly.

"Nurse Nancy, I will be extending an offer to you for the position today, and I will forward a copy to your HR Dept. in D.C. I would hope that you could make it here in the next week to get started," commented Ms. Hernandez.

Wow Ms. Hernandez, I am so excited! Moving to California has always been a dream of mine. You won’t be disappointed in me at all, said Nurse Nancy.

All right Nurse Nancy. You just bring that youthful energy of yours, and everything that Doc Garner taught you, and you’ll do just fine. Check in with me when you arrive and I will make sure you have the grand tour, and your assignment expectations are properly conveyed. We will see you in a few days, commented Ms. Hernandez.

ONE WEEK LATER

Nurse Nancy drove up to the Veterans Hospital in Long Beach, California in her rental car…the sun of the West Coast finally on her face. She just stood there in the parking lot and soaked up the warmth. The building was a little run down, but what the heck…she was in California.

As Nurse Nancy walked up toward the lobby, the Vets were smoking a few on the steps of the entrance. She’d witnessed what war had dished out to our finest men and women of the military, and it was rarely a pretty sight.

Nurse Nancy followed the signs to the office of Human Resources. Ms. Hernandez, very thankful for her arrival, and gave her the grand tour. They stopped for a minute before they rode the elevator to the top floor of the hospital, where they kept the most distressed cases.

Nurse Nancy’s new patient was a diverse character that had been brilliant, and now suffered to gain control of his identity. Even the most skilled staff in the hospital found it a dilemma on how to help this patient recover.

The elevator door opened on the 8th floor of the hospital. The signs on the wall read: PSYCHIATRIC WARD, NO VISITORS WITHOUT A NURSE ESCORT.

As the two slowly walked through the long corridors, they heard the faint and sometimes intense cries and moans of our finest in a variety of pain and suffering. Nurse Nancy was a trained professional in her field, but pain and suffering never made anyone very comfortable.

They scanned through the file before entering the room, but this new patient had very few entries in his log…he has been in a coma for over two years. Apparently, he just woke up about the same time the ad was placed, and for some reason the military insisted personal care for this patient—which was not the norm at the Veterans Hospital.

The name on the door read, SIMONSON. Ms. Hernandez ended her tour at the door of the patient and handed over the controls to the head nurse on the floor. The head nurse took Nurse Nancy in for her first look at her new patient.

How much could you learn from two years of work in the Veterans Hospital? The physicality of injuries are easier to deal with… it’s the mental disturbances that were difficult. It took time to explore each patient’s mind to understand every facet: where they came from, and where they are today, and how to bring them to a quiet place.

The room was a normal V.A. Hospital suite, equipped with restraints. Simonson was strapped to the bed, and he was fast asleep as Nurse Nancy walked up to the bed. The head nurse said that they had been medicating Simonson to ease the outbreaks of yelling and anger. Since he had just awoken from a coma a few days ago, not much had been learned.

Nurse Nancy remembered in her studies that the high traffic regions of the brain were most likely dark when a person was in a coma for a long period of time. Quieter areas of the brain spring to life and show stimulation during these periods of long rest. It had also been theorized that traffic patterns in the human brain reorganize during a coma, and possibly posses the mysterious ability to be self aware. Thus, the unknown condition of a waking coma patient.

The floor nurse explained to Nurse Nancy that Simonson’s mission was classified, so they did not have many details about how he was injured. It was the floor nurse’s guess that Simonson’s body went into a coma to heal.

Why does the V.A. have such an interest in this pilot? asked Nurse Nancy.

I’m not sure, answered the floor nurse. You will probably find out much more as soon as your patient regains his ability to speak, and regain his memory.

Over the first few weeks, Nurse Nancy’s patient was only awake a few hours a day. Simonson could not speak or move at all. However, he had a good appetite. He was weak from his two-year long coma and had very little muscle. Nurse Nancy spoke to him a lot, and read books…he seemed to listen, but fell asleep after almost every meal. His body used most of its energy digesting his food. She did notice that his mind was fast at work, trying to figure it all out.

After a few months on the job, Nurse Nancy needed confirmation that her patient wanted to live. She gave his legs and arm’s a good rub down, and asked him to focus on her.

Do you want to live or die? asked Nurse Nancy directly to her patient.

Simonson gave Nurse Nancy a strange look, and did not respond.

Do you want to live or die! asked Nurse Nancy with more vigor.

She was losing patience and speaking louder. She needed her patient to connect with her.

DO YOU WANT TO LIVE OR DIE! shouted Nurse Nancy in the pilot’s face.

Louder and louder she yelled at Simonson and demanded an answer. Simonson looked like he wanted to cry. Nurse Nancy knew he wanted to answer her, but his cognitive ability was not there yet.

BLINK YOUR EYES ONCE FOR A YES, OR TWICE FOR A NO.

DO YOU WANT TO LIVE OR DIE! insisted Nurse Nancy.

Simonson blinked his eyes once and tears rolled down his face. Nurse Nancy began to cry also and hugged her patient. They held each other for a long moment as Simonson fell asleep. She got confirmation that day that her efforts were appreciated, and she had a willing patient that wanted to live. Nurse Nancy would document everything she did from that moment on. She was determined to bring Captain Simonson back to a real life, filled with talking, movement and joy.

Over the next twelve months, Captain Rick Simonson