The Rooster and The Wolf | Bradley 'ROOSTER' Bradshaw

TWELVE

Monday, a new day. 

The first day of Phase Two training. 

Everyone was sat in the training room, eagerly listening to you and Maverick introduce the next task of the mission as images and numbers flicked over the screen behind you. 

You adjusted your overalls, it was your favourite of the uniforms you had to wear. Comfortable, and the green was very complimenting on your sun-kissed skin.

"Time, is your greatest enemy." Maverick said, and you roll your eyes, smiling at his theatrics, "Phase one of the mission will be a low level ingress attacking in two-plane teams."

"You'll fly along this narrow canyon," you said, clicking for the animation to begin, "to your target. SAMS defend the area, lethal. But they were designed to protect the skies above, not the canyon below."

"That's because the enemy knows no one is insane enough to try and fly below them." Rooster speaks up.

"Gold star for Bradshaw." you joked, and he chuckled, the interaction making Maverick smile.

"That's exactly what I'm gonna train you to do. On the day, your altitude will be 100 feet, maximum. You exceed this, and radar will spot you, and you're dead. Your airspeed will be 660 knots, minimum, and time to target: 2 and a half minutes."

"Fifth generation fighters wait at an airbase nearby, and from first hand experience, you do not wanna get into a fight with these planes, because you'll lose." you said, looking at Hangman, who returned your saddened gaze. 

Your words unnerved the pilots, and they wondered what you meant by that.

"You need to get in, hit your target, and get out before these plans even have a chance of catching you." Maverick said, taking the attention back.

You offered reassuring smiles to your pilots, who looked beyond terrified at these parameters, "Now today, we're gonna take it easy on you. You'll fly a route in your nav system simulating the canyon. Max ceiling is 300 feet, and your time to target is three minutes."

The day was as hard as you warned it would be. 

The pilots thought dogfighting was bad, well being berated by Maverick for fucking up the course was even worse. 

All morning, not one person so much as got past the third turn without dying in some way or another. 

Too slow, too fast, not communicating. 

It was the first day and already the teamwork that had formed over the last week was already falling apart.

You had made your way back to the trophy room early, after having lunch with Phoenix, Rooster, Bob and Halo in the cafeteria, to prepare your files for the next set of training that was going to begin soon, when you heard Hangman and Coyote inside.

"Yo, Coyote," Hangman said, pointing to a photograph in the glass cabinet, "Take a look at this."

"The man, the legend. There he is." Coyote answered, looking at Maverick's image. 

You saw the two huddled around the photograph when you walked in, and smiled, shaking your head as they admired your father.

"No, next to him. He look familiar to you?" Hangman said, and this got your attention.

"What have we here?" Coyote smirked, "Bradshaw, as I live and breathe." 

Shit.

You decided then to approach them, interrupting their conversation with a playful "What'cha doin'?"