Untamed Flame || R. Floyd

16

Harvard, Yale, Omaha, Fritz, and the others have already gone. Hangman too. She'd be lying if she wasn't nervous. Maverick took to the skies saying he'd try something different with the next team. That next team consists of Coyote, Phoenix, and Bob. Nobody has completed this task yet and it was putting her on edge.

Finley and Rooster sat side by side listening to the radio. Bates and Simpson were no doubt in the tower watching over them. The sense that this was a trial run didn't help the weight setting in her chest.

She puts her fist to her lips listening in as everyone was in position getting ready for the drop.

"Talk to me, Bob. We are 12 seconds late on target."

"We gotta move! We gotta move! Copy. Try to stay with me."

She could hear the monitor in the plane beep signaling something. She can imagine her husband looking around. "Huh? Wait, who's that?"

"Blue team, you've been spotted."

"Shit, it's Maverick."

Phoenix asked, "what the hell is he doing here?"

He responded, "I'm a bandit on course to intercept. Blue team, what are you gonna do?"

"He's 20 miles left. Ten o'clock. 700 knots closure."

"Your call. What do you want to do?"

"Continue. We're close. Stay on target."

"He's swinging around to the north!"

"Stand by for pop-up."

"Be ready on that laser, Bob."

"Copy. I'm on it," he says enthusiastically. She chuckles slightly as does Rooster.

"Blue team, the bandit is still closing."

"Popping now."

The radio goes silent for a minute as they make the climb. She can only imagine the pain they feel as the incline adds pressure to their chests.

They level out. Coyote shouts over the comms, "talk to me, Bob. Where's Maverick?"

"He's five miles out. He's coming fast."

"Target's in sight. Where's my laser, Bob?"

"Deadeye! Deadeye! It's no good. Sorry, I can't get a lock," she huffs in disappointment.

Coyote tells them, "we're out of time. I'm dropping blind. Damn it, missed!"

She expected that with no line set for the target. Regardless the failure disappointed her. Rooster and Finley glance at each other seemingly having the same thoughts.

"That's tone."

"Maverick's got missile lock on us," Bob says out of breath.

"Shit! We're dead." Phoenix would level out no matter the pressure crushing her lungs.

"Blue team, that's a fail. Level out, coyote," Finley gaps her mouth nervous by the fact he hasn't said anything. Maverick echoes, "Coyote? Do you copy? Coyote, come in. Coyote, level wings. Oh, god. He's in g-loc."

Her muscles tense hearing the news. For comfort, she reaches for Rooster's hand. He grips it tightly assuring her.

"Coyote? Coyote?"

"He's gonna burn in!"

"I'm going after him. Come on. Give me tone, give me tone, give me tone." The beeping inside Maverick's cockpit reaches her ears. She silently prays to god all will be well. "Snap out of it, Coyote. Come on! Come on! Come on, coyote, come on. Come on! Damn it! Coyote! Coyote!"