We Lied And Paid No Price

Jake

That the US government still trusts Jake Seresin to do... well anything, but especially a mission like this, is unbelievable. I see him in the bar and know instantly that we are all screwed. If the US army is putting Jake in a cockpit, it means the US army is out of options. When you need the best, you need the best. For all his faults, Jake Seresin is the best. (At more than just flying.)

"Bradshaw, as I live and breathe."

I stop. My heart, my eyes, my mind. I stop.

Slow Drive is playing, and I know it is on purpose, Jake's taunts playing in my ears. "You're a fucking coward. You fly like one too." Jake had seen me coming in and orchestrated the music to mock me. I know it is a crazy claim. But it's less crazy if you know Jake. And not crazy at all if you know us.

"Hangman - You look good." I say.

Jake smirks. That smile hasn't changed in twelve years.

"I am good Rooster, I am very good. In fact, I'm too good to be true."

I don't know if I want to shoot him or kiss him. I've spent so long trying not to think about Jake Seresin at all.

Hangman doesn't break eye contact, so I do. Figures, I was always the first to break, the first to call it off.

Jake. Jake. Jake. I remember scrubbing Nevada's sandy soil off me every night. No matter how long I showered, I never got completely clean. There it was, stuck under my finger nails, in between my toes, clinging to my scalp.

I run and run and run and run and run and run but there you are again; in that barely intact Bentley, smoking cigarettes before you quit; waking me up in the middle of the night to picnic and fuck, with only the scorpions to disturb us; flying like death itself, flashing me that brilliant smile from the cockpit. I run and run and run and run. But there you are.