Ghost • Tom Kazansky

• Chapter Two •

Having arrived at Miramar, California, also known as Fightertown U.S.A, Kara immediately wanted to get straight to work as she was amongst the company of some of the best pilots in the world.

She couldn't wait to learn more about flight maneuvers from the best of the best while, at the same time, proving to everyone that a woman had what it takes to be a Naval Aviator.

She sat beside Terence, across from her brother and Pete in a smoke filled classroom - her hazel gaze trained on the video that played on the TV in front of them.

"During Korea, the Navy kill ratio was 12-to-1. We shot down 12 of their jets for every one of ours." One of their instructors, Jester, explained as he stood in front of the class. "During Vietnam, that ratio fell to 3-to-1. Our pilots became dependent upon missiles. They had lost some of their dogfighting skills. Top Gun was created to teach A.C.M. Air Combat Maneuvering. Dogfighting."

As Kara took down the necessary notes that she needed, she felt a gaze burning on the back of her head. Tearing her gaze away from her notebook, she glanced over her shoulder slightly, only to be met with sharp, icy blue eyes staring directly at her, from his seat behind her.

This pilot was extremely good-looking. Apart from his piercing blue eyes, he had blonde hair with frosted tips, stood at roughly 6'0" tall - which didn't tower over Kara's 5'7" by much - with a cut jaw that seemed to have flexed as he chewed the gum in his mouth.

He spun a pen between his fingers, to which Kara had taken note of the ring that adorned his right ring finger. Shifting her gaze, she met his icy blue eyes once more, only for the pilot to smirk at her with a wink.

A small smirk tugged at the corners of her mouth, rolling her eyes slightly as she turned around in her seat.

In doing so, she noticed the excitement that shone in Pete's eyes as her brother had been listening as intently as she was.

"By the end of Vietnam, that ratio was back up to 12-to-1. Blinds, please." Jester instructed, and the blinds were opened, allowing the sunlight to bleed into the once darkened room. "Now, I'd like to take this opportunity to introduce you to our Commanding Officer at Top Gun. The very first man to win the Top Gun trophy. You will not find a finer fighter pilot anywhere in the world. Commander Mike Metcalf, callsign Viper."

With that, Kara, along with the rest of the pilots, shifted their gazes towards the back of the class as the Commander had made his way down the aisle.

"Gentlemen." Viper began before his eyes landed on Kara, an impressed smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "And lady. You are the top one percent of all Naval Aviators. The elite. The best of the best. We'll make you better."

"You'll fly at least two combat missions a day, attend classes in between, and evaluate your performance. Now, on each combat sequence, you're gonna face a different challenge." As Viper had continued his introduction to the program, out of the corner of her eye, Kara had noticed that Pete had began scoping out the competition when his eyes had finally landed onto the pilot seated behind her.

"Every encounter is gonna be much more difficult. We're gonna teach you to fly the F-14 right to the edge of the envelope, faster than you've ever flown before and more dangerous." The Commander explained, pacing around the front of the room before he walked down the aisle once more. "We don't make policy here. Elected officials, civilians do that. We are the instruments of that policy. And although we are not at war, we must always act as though we are at war. The tip of the spear best be sharp."

Kara exchanged a look with Terence before her ears caught onto the whispering that came across from her.

"What are you doing?" Nick whispered to his pilot.

"Just wondering." Pete responded with a smile. "Who's the best?"

"In case some of you wonder who the best is, they're up here on this plaque on the wall. The best driver and their RIO from each class has their name on it, and they have the option to come back here to be Top Gun instructors." Viper announced and made his way back to the front of the room, where he faced the pilots. "You think your name is gonna be on that plaque?"

"Yes, sir." Pete replied confidently, making a few pilots chuckle as Kara closed her eyes, scrunching her nose slightly as she released a soft groan at her friend's confidence.

The Commander's eyes fell onto the dark-haired pilot. "That's pretty arrogant considering the company you're in." He stated.

But that did not deter Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell.

"Yes, sir." He responded, nevertheless.

"Ugh, idiot." Kara mumbled softly.

A smile came to Viper's face as he assessed the confident pilot. "I like that in a pilot." He said and looked over at the rest. "Just remember when it's over out there, we're all on the same team. This school is about combat. There are no points for second place. Dismissed."

"First day in, and you've already put a target on our backs, Mav." Kara said as she gathered her notebook and pen together before patting his shoulder lightly. "Thanks for that."

"Nothing wrong with a little friendly competitiveness." Pete responded with a light shrug of his shoulders as he led his friends down the aisle.

"The plaque for the alternates is down in the ladies' room." The pilot that was seated behind Kara spoke up as they walked past, grabbing their attention.

Nick turned around and let out a hysterical, sarcastic laugh as a couple of the other pilots chuckled around them.

"Oh, Jesus! Oh, you kill me. You really do." The eldest Bradshaw said, wiping his eyes to rid himself of fake tears for effect, before he looked at the plaque. "No, no, no, no, there's two O's in Goose, boys."

"Move it, idiot!" Kara exclaimed, shoving her brother playfully and pushing him out of the class, completely unaware of the icy blue eyes that had trailed after her.