As life progressed Pecos learned one main thing, information is ammunition!!! Being able to put the information into use was his specialty, do you know anyone else who would supercharge a C-47 for the fun of it?? During the wreckless days and nights of flying rogue and gunning for the side that was winning at the time, Pecos grew distant from his family and finally lost touch. It wasnt until the outbreak of war that Pecos finally learned what had happened to his family. They were rounded up and shot for being opposed to certain ideals in the wrong place at the wrong time. Pecos took the news hard and signed up at the local recruitment office to fly for the glory of Canada against the scourge threatening the world! A noble cause for a noble man, a hard man, a man truly on his own.

    Being unlike his classmates Pecos tinkered with his own aircraft and was often up late at night studying or helping the mechanics, he never really fit in anywhere with the pilots or the mechanics. A masterful combination of pilot mechanic and tactition, a jack of all trades, and master of mind and body. Pecos remained distant through his flight school despite the constant complications his mates and techs threw at him constantly. He graduated with top honors and setting a new standard for theoretical training at the flight academy.

    It wasnt long until the numbers dwindled and Pecos was finally forced into command of a fighter bomber wing based in north Africa.
A fateful command this was. One night while the wing was on patrol,
a flight of Fw-190's over took and obliterated his command. "All planes scatter to the wind, make for the sea and pray a tin fish flying the union jack picks you up! Good luck and god speed" was the last command of Pecos. Being barley able to maintain altitude himself Pecos coasted inland to try and draw the enemy fire away from his remaining wing mates. A burst of cannon fire raked across the mosquito just aft of the cockpit severing it in two. With a horrendus crack of treated wood, Pecos' plane plummeted to the ground, as he ejected.

    The 190 circled around and shot the chute to shreds, causing Pecos to break a leg and a few ribs in the process. Coming to Pecos realized he needed water fast, he was from the cold north not this dry burning south land. Walking for what seemed like forever, he spotted a small tent complex in the distance. Taking his service revolver and firing it for all he was worth Pecos sank to his knees and then collapsed. A short while later the commander of the tent complex bent down to offer the parched pilot some water. With a speed uncharacteristic of a dead man, Pecos reached up and wrapped his arm around the mans neck and whispered, "Always leave a round chambered my friend".

    And so it was to pass that the man, by the name of WW who was now a hostage, took in Pecos as a top notch confidant, and his chief of modifications for "commercial" usages. Pecos is as cold and hard as ever but he has found a place he fits in, leading another wing of fighter bombers in exploits to be told later..Ahh yes home....for now......
 
 

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