CHAPTER FOUR

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"Time is your greatest enemy," Captain Mitchell said, stepping to the side as the screen behind him flashed on.

The screen lit up with different shades of blue, hills and a  valley appearing, or perhaps mountains and a canyon, it was just on a screen after all.

"Phase one will be a low level attack," he explained, the screen zooming in on the scene. "You'll be flying along this canyon wall to your target. There is surface-to-air-missiles that defends the area," he paused as the screen brought up said missiles and information on them. "These SAMs, they're lethal, but they were designed to protect the skies not the canyons below."

My eyes widened as I caught onto what Captain Mitchell was hinting at, as the screen flashed back to the canyon scene, a plane appearing in the gorge.

"That's because no one's insane enough to fly below them," Bradshaw spoke up, sitting in an aisle across from me.

His eyes caught mine for a split second, and we shared the same look, already knowing what was about to come out of Mavericks mouth.

"That's exactly what I'm going to train you to do," he said, and everyone shifted in their seats at the plan of action.

"On the day, your altitude will be one hundred feet. Maximum. You exceed this altitude and the SAMs will spot you. You're dead," Maverick said.

I glanced over towards Natasha, who shared the same worried look I did. Captain Mitchell sure had a way to explain everything as though it was impossible.

"Your airspeed will be 660 knots, minimum," he paused as a timer appeared on the screen. "Time to target will be two and a half minutes, because enemy Fifth Generation Fighters wait at a nearby air base. A head to head in your F-18s, you're dead." He said, turning away from the screen to face all of us, an uncomfortable and tense atmosphere setting in pace.

"You need to get in, hit your target, and get out. Don't give enemy aircraft time to intercept. This makes time your greatest enemy." Maverick paused, the screen flashing to a larger version of the canyon screen, this time a green line running through the center of it.

"Today you'll be flying a replica of the mission course, which is programmed into your navigation systems," Mitchell said, explaining today's exercise. "The faster you fly, the harder it will be to keep from crashing into the mountain, and the tighter the turns will be."

The timer on the screen increased to three minutes, and the maximum altitude rose by two hundred feet.

"So today we're going to be easy on you. Time to target, three minutes. Maximum altitude, 300 feet, good luck," he said, and with that we were dismissed.

I made my way to the locker room, Nat catching up to me in the hallway.

"This is insane," she said, shaking her head as we entered the open room, closing the door behind us.

"What the hell kind of mission is this?" I questioned, though it was rhetorical. "The way Captain Mitchell talks, it sounds like this is a suicide mission," I said, grabbing my flight suit out of my locker.

"Tell me about it," Nat said, "we haven't even been briefed on the actual mission yet," she added, as we both changed into our flight suits.

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