The light from the cracks in the ceiling shined downed on to his medals as the prison gate opened. The brim of his hat shielded him from being blinded. His eyes were set on the cell at the end of the hallway.

"I hate this damn place." Raylan mumbled. He sat quietly on the cold concrete and sighed. He couldn't believe today was the day he would die. He bounced the back of his head slowly off of the wall. It helped him passed the time and count the hours till his inevitable demise at the end of a rope. "Hard to believe a drunken argument was what got me here." His fellow inmate beside him replied with a sigh of his own.

"Do you ever shut up?" Raylan narrowed his eyes and thought carefully about the question.

"Come to think of it I don't think I can! It must be a disease." He smiled. Even on his last day alive he would try to lighten up the mood. It was hard to do something like that. He wandered if he would feel anything when his time came. "Wait!" He jumped to his feet in a moment of panic. "Where is my last meal! I want my pork chops god damn it!" He protested angrily as he grabbed the bars and shook them violently. His cellmate sighed once again. Raylan narrowed his eyes once more knowing his fellow convict was withholding information.

"OK...I'll bite...what is it?" He looked back. His cellmate shook his head.

"This is a military prison numb skull. You don't get last meals here." Raylan moaned in a slight state of depression as he slid down in front of the door.

"There goes my plans for having a full stomach when I died." He groaned.

"I can help you son." A set of foot steps stopped at the cell door. Raylan jumped to his feet and peaked through his prison bars. He could see a military officer standing in front of his door. He gulped and made a half hearted attempt at saluting only to have his shackles keep him from saluting properly. "At ease son." The general stroked his grey beard as he read lines on a piece of paper coupled together on clip board.

"Permission to speak sir??" Raylan asked hesitantly. The officer gave his permission with a quick nod. Raylan cleared his throat. Part of him thought this could be some kind of sick joke. "Are you here to get me out? I thought I was to be executed today."

"You still can be." The officer mused as he flipped through the pages on his clip board. Raylan fell over on the ground. "However..." Raylan jumped to his feet and grabbed a hold of the bars to his cell with a firm grip. "The military has seen fit to have a early release program for individuals like you since we are in a state of war." Raylan's eyes bulged out of his skull in shock. "If you agree to come with me, you'll be given a second shot to serve your country. If you live through the war you will be given a pardon."

"Accepted! Accepted!" Raylan blurted out in excitement.

"I can't figure you out Howe." Raylan stood at attention as he rubbed his arm behind the commanding officer's back. The chip they placed in his arm was beginning to agitate him more.

"I bet this damn thing is infected." Raylan said silently to himself...or so he thought.

"What was that!?" His commanding officer quickly turned in anger. Raylan gulped. He swore he could have seen every hair stand up on the old kook's head.

"Nothing sir!" He quickly replied and preyed quietly in his head. It would only take one mild slip up and it would be back to prison for him where the hangman's noose only waited for him. No one was exactly eager to work with Raylan however...specially when he had a CO that seemed to be looking for an excuse to see him swing from the end of a rope.

"I've read up on what you did while in South America, and I will be watching you carefully." The grizzled officer sat down in a chair. He calmly leaned back into it. He knew the military was tight in terms of troop numbers, but for one of the "early release" soldiers to work out would be to the benefit to the military. "What I don't understand about you Howe is that you seem to be more cut out for a drunken college frat party, what brought you to the military?"

"To be the best damn pilot in Maritime Forces Sir." He replied back bluntly. The old geezer across from him tapped his finger on the desk. Raylan gulped once more. He gave his honest answer, but he had a feeling his CO had his doubts. He always lived for a good fight and to have that extra gear in him that wanted him to push himself. In Raylan's own mind he knew he wasn't being totally truthful. He really just wanted the challenge of going up against enemy pilots in battle and to test himself. The CO sighed as he turned toward his desk and pulled out a file from it. He dropped it on the desk.

"Command is desperate for bodies that are capable of fighting. If it was up to me I would send you back to hang, unfortunately the powers that be have bigger plans for you, your being shipped out to the front lines." He turned once more, this time he stared blankly outside of his window at the sun as it continued to set on the horizon. Raylan picked up the file hesitantly and opened it. Inside he found mission specifics as well as who his handlers would be once he made it to his destination. He tucked the file under his arm as the CO turned once more to face him.

"Dismissed."