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leon-swedfinqs · 10 months

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A Witch’s Letter

Anathema sends out a letter to the duo requesting help only one of them can truly provide.

Aziraphale gets some insight into other sides of his partner he was yet to be exposed to.

Crowley comes up with a compromise.

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Hell or any infernal torture dimension equivalent truly knew no fury like a dedicated Anathema Device. And now here she was, many strange paper trails and shoddy eye witness account later, clutching a parchment and watching as the mail carriage tumbled down the gravel road towards her. Upon seeing her silhouette against the shrubbery, the driver pulled back on the reigns of the feathered yet wingless bird lugging the trolley until it came to a stop before her.

“Madame” he tipped his hat to her before gesturing to her letter, “what’s this? Letter to a boy?”

“I’m not quite sure actually,” Anathema mumbled, recounting the multiple pronouns used to describe who she suspected to be the same person. Regardless, she held out the letter.

“Aw, young love. Reminds me of me and my Maud. I’ll make sure it gets to him in a few days, ma’am” he nodded as he took it from her.

“Actually,” she said as he other hand dug into her dress pocket and retrieved a small burlap pouch, “This needs to be delivered now. As soon as possible. Priority.”

She held out the sack, but the postman made no effort to take it.

“I’m sorry ma’am, but I can’t fast track any deliveries over others, even for a bribe. It would go against my oath, see,” he said. Anathema’s grip on the pouch tightened. The hard gold coins felt absolutely worthless in that moment.

Even though she’d normally prided herself on her cool temper, the postman seemed to have noticed a change in her expression. “Oh, I know the rate of snail mail can be frustrating, ma’am. At least we aren’t using giant snails anymore, aye? My old stead, Cepha, she did her time as a dedicated postal worker—lives at home in a happy retirement now. If you’re upset your note won’t get to your love before your anniversary or somethin, I’ll be sure to tell him it was my fault for the delay, alright?”

“It’s not for a partner,” Anathema mumbled, “It’s…it’s for a…a doctor, of sorts. The boy I tutor, he’s very ill. No one can help, this doctor may be my last hope,” her chin fell to her chest, “please, I can double my offer, I just need to get them here as soon as possible. I can get you more money, or I could-“

“Put the coins away, lass,” he said before she heard the trolley creek and two feet hit the ground. Slowly she looked up to find the postman looking at her letter in his hands. The corners of his mouth upturned in a smile, “I’ll do it. I’ll deliver this one, fast as you’ve ever seen. You have my word. In return I need no money, but I will need someone to finish my route for the day. Tomorrow another worker can cover, but today I’m out of luck. Would you-“

“YES!” Anathema gasped before quickly clearing her throat and regaining her composure, “oh, yes yes of course I will. Anything.”

The postman nodded before smiling, “we’ve got a deal then. Pick up and delivery list is in the front compartment, you’ll need to use your own stead to cart around the wares. And once you’re finished, just drop my cart off at the office on 3rd and Stenton in town.” Anathema nodded furiously at each instruction before the postman approached the large creature and pulled himself up onto the saddle. He undid the towing attachment and gave the creature a quick kick to the side. All at once, a bright yellow pair of wings sprouted from either side of its body.

“Give Adam my regards!” The postman called before with another kick, he took off into the sky.

~~~

Aziraphale was stubborn.

When he told crowley he was going to shill out money for a PO Box, crowley summoned the fattest eye roll he could muster. The type of people who used their services typically didn’t seek out specific blokes, just whoever was willing to do their dirty work. Not to mention they wouldn’t want to use the postal system.

Unsurprisingly, they received very few letters. They did occasionally get messages from previous clients or people they’d met on their journeys, that was welcomed. They also received a fair bit of junk mail—a concept Aziraphale didn’t initially understand and almost led him to sending their stash of gold to a ‘prince in need on a small loan.’

Even after Crowley pointed out that having a traceable place where their enemies could link them to could be dangerous, Aziraphale insisted, not out of disagreement but purely out of stubbornness. And now, finally was the day it was all paying off.

With his nose practically sniffing the sun, he placed the letter in front of crowley with a satisfied “hmph!”. Crowley only tilted his glasses down his nose and glances between the parchment and the satisfied cleric.

“What’s got you so pleased with yourself?” Crowley asked as he went back to whatever he was going, probably fiddling with a dagger.

“Take a look at this. You said it was silly, but ohhh it seems like our PO Box was truly useful. Especially because this lass sounds like she’s willing to spend a pretty penny” Aziraphale hummed. Crowley, making a great show of doing so, finally picked up the letter and read over the lines. However, the more he read, the less exasperated he seemed. His pupils moved faster across the page, until finally stopping on the final line.

To whom it may concern,

You do not know me, and I do not know you, but I am requesting your aid.

My name is Anathema Device, if you’ve heard of me it may be due to my family’s prophecies and our affiliation with the high royals. Rest assured, I do not collude with those people. I am an educator, a teacher of sorts. I’ve studied all forms of magic, specifically into ancient, lost, or hidden art forms. Due to my knowledge and vast array of skills, I have recently been hired to tutor this wonderful young boy.

I have heard of you, in passing. Of your wits and skills and ability to fight. Of your magic and intelligence. Tales lost to the gust of winds in the forest.

I have foreseen this day coming. But I did not expect it so soon, and as such I am unprepared. I cannot help him. No one can truly help him.

If I’m right, if what I’ve seen in my future is right, then you’re the only one who can. I understand your hesitance. I am willing to offer anything as compensation, for your help, with the promise of my quiet in return. I beg of you, please.

The zodiacs, the stars, are calling to him, and I cannot help him answer.

Aziraphale looked at him expectantly, waiting for some kind of admission of wrong. However, Crowley’s face looked pale and wordless he stood with the paper, walked over to a trash can, and slipped it in.

“Wh- oh come on now Crowley! Just because you don’t want to admit I proved you wrong that doesn’t mean you can just ignore the young woman!” Aziraphale huffed as he walked over to the can and went to retrieve it. However, Crowley held out a hand to stop him.

“It’s…it’s not that,” he mumbled, “that woman. I just, I don’t want any affiliation with her,” Crowley mumbled, “You were right, whatever, just forget it ever happened.”

“What’s gotten into you?” Aziraphale frowned, though his voice was laced with concern. Crowley was looking off and it didn’t seem like he was planning on meeting any gazes any time soon. When he didn’t answer, Aziraphale pursued his lip before suddenly turning away, walking over to his bag and rummaging before retrieving a scroll. He brought it back over to the rogue.

“Remember when you told me about the stars?” Aziraphale asked. Crowley didn’t move, but usually the lack of a “no” meant “yes” when he was in moods like this. Aziraphale suddenly pulled open the scroll, showing a star map.

“Ever since then, I kept my eye out for any literature about stars I thought you’d like. And I found out all about these beings called ‘Zodiacs!’ They’re affiliated with the stars, I think you’d really enjoy them!” Aziraphale tucked part of the map between his fingers to keep it open while the others gestured to a picture of scales overlayed over one of the constellations, “The woman mentioned them in her letter. I think you’d have a really great time on this mission if you gave it a chance, eh?”

Crowley wordlessly looked over at the star map, his eyes scanning over the constellations and symbols that decorated the page. Aziraphale frowned as he watched Crowley study the paper with sadness in his eyes.

Carefully, Crowley pulled the map from Aziraphale’s grasp and held it up as he leaned against the wall. He rolled the scroll and tucked one of the edges underneath the crook of his arm in order to look more intently at a different section of signs. The two stood in complete silence, the air thick with tension and confusion. Aziraphale was afraid to speak, afraid to scare Crowley off.

“Angel, I…” Crowley sighed as he rolled up the scroll and held it tightly in his hands, the paper squishing under his grip. He still wasn’t making eye contact. “…who do you think she wrote the letter to?”

“Why us, of course,” Aziraphale said firmly. “She so neatly addressed it to our business. Her penmanship is quite lovely.”

“Quite…” Crowley sighed. “Look, Angel, it’s-ngk-fuck…”

He turned, finally making eye contact. “It’s to me. The letter was for me.”

Aziraphale furrowed his eyebrows in confusion as he replayed the words of the letter in his head.

“What do you mean? The young woman pointedly notes both of our skills in her request.”

“And yet she never says either of our names,” Crowley reminded him. He turned his head to the side, momentarily breaking eye contact. “Frankly I don’t blame her, probably couldn’t pinpoint mine…” he muttered. The tiefling took a moment to take a deep breath and compose himself, before placing the scroll down on the table besides them and making firm eye contact with Aziraphale once more.

“You read about the Zodiacs, correct?” He interrogated.

“Wh-yes, but-“

“What about the magic they pass down? The blessing of stardust to mortals?”

Aziraphale owlishly blinked, staring up at Crowley in confusion. He had a million questions swimming around in his head — yes, while he would consider himself highly educated, Aziraphale is still blind to other forms of magic and the religions that surrounded these abilities. He’s been spending his years catching up on outside history and his own magic sector in order to properly assimilate. But one question couldn’t help but blurt itself out.

“Why, in Ecliel’s great realm, do you know about this?” he asked.

Crowley deflated slightly at the question, and for a moment his eyes appeared glazed and elsewhere. Aziraphale recognized that expression well and carefully dragged over one of the nearby stools before Crowley slumped onto it. He sat hunched forward, elbows on his knees and clasping his fingers.

There were no words that felt right, but Crowley forced words regardless. “For my 6th birthday, I asked my family for a star map. When I was 7, I asked for a sextant. And when I turned 8, they got me an astrolabe.” The tiefling smiled somberly as memories drifted in—many nights he would sneak out of his bedroom through the high up window with notebooks, astrological tools and his blanket. They’d wiggle themselves up onto the roof and settle on a perfectly comfy stop to observe, appreciate, and reach out to the stars. That was, until, one day the stars reached back to him.

“I was observing as I did every night. I would gaze and name every constellation and star system, identify which planets were in view, count all of the shooting stars and asteroids that would briefly pass by. Once I finished documenting what the sky looked like that night, I would lay on the roof and reach out towards the sky, my hands open as if I was waiting to catch something…”

Crowley sighed as he rubbed his right thumb against his left palm in a nervous gesture.

“I would concentrate on the constellation above me, Aries I believe it was that night. I would close my eyes and mentally sing out to it, almost like a prayer I guess,” he laughed. “I felt comfort in the gesture. Like my voice was a call and the stars would comfort me into the follow day. I always thought that those were their answers, that sense of protection I would feel. But, then…”

During their call, Crowley suddenly felt a comforting warmth building up in the palms, growing and pushing like a flower bud through the dirt. Breaking the ritual, they opened their eyes in curiosity, and were met with a bright glow sitting in their hands.

Crowley stared at the light in his hands and gasped. And the star seemed to gasp back.

The tiefling was incredibly careful with the star, though it was out of appreciation rather than fear. Curiously one of his fingers brushed over the surface, only for a smattering of starlight to flicker onto his thumb and scatter into the space around them. It almost looked like dust or flaky snow fluttering off, though once the first few particles dettached, others quickly followed. Crowley worried he may have hurt the star, though the nerves were dashed once the specks began to swirl upwards, moving to twist gently around his horns. When they reached the tips, the stardust shifted and curled to form another loop, similar to the rack of a ram.

The strangest thing? That stardust *tickled* almost. Well, not exactly tickling. Crowley could feel the small particles like warm, comforting pinpricks, but the feeling they transferred brought a light that made him want to giggle.

The stardust came back to settle in his hands, not as condensed as it had once been and still a bit drifting around dreamily or freckled on crowley’s skin like he had accidentally spilled the most beautiful paint in the world.

“A star’s blessing,” Crowley sighed. “A connection that forms deep within your soul, branching between the physical and celestial realm. It allows us to draw power from our rising and manifest it into magic.”

As he spoke, Crowley could feel the dormant warmth pulse beneath his skin, the fire now attached to his being, too stubborn to let go. Over the years he was able to subconsciously tune it out — constantly listening to it cry out would’ve driven him mad.

“I was granted the blessing…this kid, I bet he was too…”

Crowley sighed. He was afraid, honestly. He still had unsaid words sitting on his tongue, his body felt rigid in fear of what the cleric might say or how he would react. He felt vulnerable, exposed and stinging like an open wound. He said too much, he said too much.

Aziraphale said nothing at first, his eyes purely studying Crowley’s form. He’d never seen him like this frankly, and in his mind a lot of connections were being made to previous mysteries about his companion. Although the memory was lovely, it didn’t need to be said that something must’ve gone wrong—the fate this meeting with a star had led to only ended in trauma that crowley had tried to buried, all undone by a single woman’s letter.

Gently and silently, Aziraphale approached and reached out, cupping his hands around Crowley’s nervous interlocked fingers. He held his hands with the same care and reverence Crowley had held his star with. He could feel a slight tremor coming from the rogue’s hands, the fear and memories shimmering around him like dust that was brushed off a shelf.

“The kid is cursed…I…I can’t help him. No-nn-I-no, I won’t help him,” Crowley sputtered. “I’m sorry…”

Aziraphale blinked in surprise as he frowned. This was incredibly uncharacteristic for Crowley, especially since Aziraphale had picked up on his sweet spot for children. Although he would swear up and down he “hated the little brats,” Aziraphale caught crowley sneaking extra food or supplies to street kids, and even agreed to going on a mission for free a few months back when a little girl asked them to help find her dad. Although it may have seemed cruel, Aziraphale knew it wasn’t easy for Crowley.

“I don’t think you should help him,” Aziraphale started. Crowley’s gaze snapped up in surprise, obviously expecting the cleric to try and persuade him the other way. But Aziraphale held firm gaze as he squeezed crowley’s hands gently. “You’ve obviously been hurt by this in the past. I don’t think it would be a good idea for you to get involved, dear. You’re very important, Crowley”

A tear slid down the rogue’s cheek, though before it reached his chin, he suddenly stood up and moved his hands under aziraphale’s arms, instead wrapping around him and grasping him in a desperate embrace. His breath shuddered as he buried himself into Aziraphale, only able to mutter a small “thank you” into the clerics shirt.

Aziraphale remained and embraced him for a long time, every so often whispering another affirmation or grounding crowley with a squeeze. However, his eyes couldn’t help but drift to the nearby table with the discarded letter, words desperate and pleading.

Once Crowley sufficiently calmed down, Aziraphale finally pulled away.

“Dear boy, I’m glad you’re doing what’s best for you. I really do think it’s best that you stay here for this” Aziraphale smiled.

“Yeah…wait, what do you mean ‘this’?”

“Well…I believe I want to go on a solo mission to help this boy.”

Aziraphale held his ground as Crowley bristled and looked at him oddly.

“I might not understand zodiac magic, nor am I able to cast it. But it sounds like it’s a deep spiritual connection. My magic stems from my faith, it was granted to me by my god as a…blessing, I guess would be the right term. This young lady sounds more like an academic, learning element combinations in order to cast magic. While not the same, I believe I can still help.”

Aziraphale was beaming at the concept. Any opportunity to help the cleric would take, that Crowley understood. He has watched him try to cast magic more “traditionally”, like how one would learn at an academy to become a sorcerer, but he greatly fumbled and was barely able to make a spark. His magic seemed to flow with his confidence, emotions, and faith. It was difficult in the beginning to translate those feelings and power into tangible and legit spells.

“It doesn’t sound like a typical quest, Angel,” Crowley frowned. “It feels like more of a, errr…babysitting job. Long term. A sit in.”

“Oh? Think I’ll have to become his nanny, do you?” Aziraphale smiled. Crowley rolled his eyes.

“I just mean, this seems like an extended commitment. And I don’t think it’s safe for either of us to-“ to be around zodiacs, including a kid that could explode and become an ultra powerful maniac, “-stay in one place for too long, you know.”

“You have a point,” Aziraphale mumbled before snapping his fingers, “then I’ll host a sort of boot camp! Short term but packed to the brim with lessons!”

Crowley bit his lip. “Err…uh…I have a hunch that the kid is, like, around 10 years old.”

“And how does that change anything?” Aziraphale asked as he tilted his head.

“Weren’t you a bit restless when you were ten? The ‘I’d rather do anything else’ phase?”

“…no? I quite liked my lessons, I wanted to be risen,” he said bluntly.

Crowley blinked as he thought for a moment. The image of a younger Aziraphale, sans halos, chubbier cheeks, and more wild hair, dressed up in a sort of ornate uniform, sitting in a back room frantically trying to memorize passages of scripture before a sermon.

“Right,” Crowley sighed. “Well, normal ten year olds won’t follow a boot camp learning program that easily. They’re like…uh…what’s that thing that’s slippery and hard to catch…”

Crowley trailed off in thought for a moment before shaking his head. “Right! Regardless, it’s unsafe for one of us to leave for a long time. So I’ll just, er…we’ll go together. I pick up some jobs for money, you deal with the kid.”

Aziraphale softly smiled. Of course he couldn’t help but want to help the kid anyway. “Oh Crowley, are you sure?”

Crowley sniffed and curtly nodded. “Yes, correctamundo, 100%—oh I’m not saying that again,” he babbled. “Now shoo! Go write back to that witch woman, I’ll cook some dinner.”

Aziraphale bright smiled as Crowley quickly waved him off before slipping off into the kitchen. As the cleric turned and grabbed the letter to leave to his study, he heard Crowley blurt out in exasperation “Fish!”, making him chuckle. He hoped that dinner would take a while, he’s got a letter to write and some supplies to organize and pack. He has a feeling this was going to be a big one.

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usafphantom2 · 1 year

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The cover artwork of the novel Firefox by Craig Thomas depicted a MiG-25, and the plane was described similarly to the MiG-25 in the book.

The Soviet MiG-25 (NATO code-name “Foxbat”) was a high-speed interceptor and reconnaissance aircraft. The aircraft entered service in 1970 and has a top speed of Mach 2.83, powerful radar, and could carry up to four air-to-air missiles.

A capable interceptor, the MiG-25 was widely exported by the Soviet Union.

The MiG-25’s capabilities were not discovered until 1976 when Viktor Belenko, a Soviet MiG-25 pilot, defected to Japan.

Subsequent analysis revealed a simple-yet-functional design with vacuum-tube electronics, two massive turbojet engines, and sparing use of advanced materials such as titanium.

The Soviet government put pressure on Japan, demanding the delivery of the purloined ‘Foxbat’ pronto. Since there were no legal reasons not to, the MiG-25 was returned, in dismantled and crated condition. The Japanese did it on purpose to cover up the ‘surgery’ they and the U.S. intelligence experts had undertaken on the MiG.

However the Soviet experts were quick to find out just how much the West actually knew. When the MiG-25 was returned to the USSR it was determined that the Americans had run the engines and measured the aircraft’s infra-red signature and also made a detailed analysis of the systems and avionics, including the radar, and the structural materials. Not knowing how to operate the equipment, the Americans had damaged some of it and had to make hasty repairs (foreign fuses and resistors were discovered in the radar set).

The incident got the world press going wild with stories about the MiG-25 and U.S. Defence Secretary Schlesinger stated that the new Soviet interceptor was a sufficiently potent weapon to bring about drastic changes to the Western weapons systems and strategies.

Belenko’s defection was also mentioned in the novel Firefox by Craig Thomas, on which Clint Eastwood’s movie is based. According to an interesting post appeared on Quora, in the book there’s a mail conversation (the snail mail kind, since it was published in 1977 and takes place a short time after) in which they discuss Belenko’s defection. Someone argues that the new MiG-31 Firefox is not a big deal, since they already have Belenko’s MiG-25, while someone else argues that the MiG-31 is a completely different beast.

Clint Eastwood in Firefox

Then, as MiG-31 flies for the first time, NATO has everything in the air to spy on it, and nobody could see anything on the radar. They conclude that the MiG-31 not only is faster than anything and features a revolutionary fire control system controlled by thought, but also is invisible to radar, and that they have to steal one.

And that’s when the book begins in earnest, and also where the movie starts.

Since the defection of Victor Belenko was widely mentioned at the time, the publisher had an unusual large first print run, gambling on the publicity of Belenko’s defection to push up the sales.

In fact Craig Thomas was inspired by the awesome performance of the MiG-25, and then Belenko defected as he was finishing the book and thus included in the letters.

Fun fact: the cover artwork depicted a MiG-25, and the plane was described similarly to the MiG-25 in the book. In the sequel, Firefox Down, the description was more like the MiG-31 in the 1982 movie.

MiG-31 Firefox

Full-scale MiG 31 Firefox mockup used in the film “Firefox” parked at Van Nuys Airport, California in May 1982

Fun fact 2: The artwork on the Swedish paperback translation of Firefox instead depicted a canard and double-delta aircraft, pretty similar to the Swedish JA-37 Viggen.

JA-37 Viggen

Photo credit: Screenshot from YouTube video, CIA, Dmitriy Pichugin and MilborneOne via wikipedia

Dario Leone

Dario Leone is an aviation, defense and military writer. He is the Founder and Editor of “The Aviation Geek Club” one of the world’s most read military aviation blogs. His writing has appeared in The National Interest and other news media. He has reported from Europe and flown Super Puma and Cougar helicopters with the Swiss Air Force.

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