Hold My Hand || J.Seresin

Chapter 1

Every few weeks, a special day comes along to give me a nice reminder of why I love my job. Today was one of those days. I'd come into work early to find the orders on my desk. Orders for me to take one of the F-18s up for a test. In six weeks, another round of students would be arriving to train at Top Gun. It wasn't the traditional thing to do - a Lieutenant Commander testing out the planes, but when the order comes from the Admiral, you don't question it.

I kept my pace steady, head high, walking past the bustling offices on my way to the hangar. It was going to be a hot one today, so the earlier I started, the sooner I could finish my work in the cool A/C. I swung open the door, stepping out into the hangar.
"Barbie." One of my flight crewmen, Hank, called out. In Fightertown, rarely was anyone referred to by their actual name or rank. During flight school, we run through a series of trials and along the way, a call sign forms. Mine started out as a joke, something about looking like aviator Barbie, and next thing I knew, it was painted to the side of my jet.
"This baby ready to go?" I asked, brushing my hand over one of the wings.
"Just waiting for your final check," he told me. I climbed the ladder and leaned over, checking the dash. Navigation showed the surrounding area. I tapped the screen and saw the route I'd be taking. All the switches were in the correct position, ready for any changes needed once I was in the air. I stepped down, grabbing my helmet off the nearby table. My helmet was painted just like aviator Barbie, but instead of orange striping, the striping was pink. I'd really leaned into the Barbie association, but it kept people on their toes.

I slipped on the helmet, readjusting the strap. I looked over to my flight crew, who gave me a thumbs up. I re-climbed the stairs and got myself into place within the cockpit. For Top Gun tests, we have a mixture of single-seat and two-seat jets. I tended to alternate the tests between those two. With these tests, there'd be another pilot and jet up in the air, but I wouldn't know where. The goal - seeing who could "kill" the other first.

The black mouthpiece was dangled over the joystick. I lifted it and slipped the left piece into the left side of my helmet.
"Radio check - loud and clear." I stated, waiting for a response.
"Crystal clear, Barbie. You have a full tank. Engine check." I followed his instruction and switched the engine on. It purred to life. An engine sound had been a favorite of mine ever since I was a little kid and my dad took me to see my first plane.
"System is good. Permission to taxi."
"Sky's are clear. This is air control tower 1, you have permission to taxi." A female voice told me. I shifted the joystick forward slightly, feeling the jet move.

I followed the white lines guiding my path to the runway. No matter how many times I ran through these tests, the slow crawl to the runway always made me miss being on the carrier. The thrill of knowing I'd be going from 0 to 150 knots was exhilarating.
"The hard deck is 5,000 feet." Hank told me.
"Works for me." I responded. I sped up slightly, preparing to get the correct speed for takeoff. The jet speed lurched me back into my seat and I shifted the joystick forward more.
"Permission to take off."
"Permission granted. Happy flying." At the words from the air control tower operator, I increased speed again, reaching for the left control stick and pushing into an engaged forward position. My right hand pulled the main joystick back, feeling the jet pull up from the ground. My left hand moved forward on instinct, flicking a switch to the onward position, initiating the landing gear to lift into the body of the plane.

The plane climbed upward, steady and smooth. There was a calming effect, seeing the view from up here and knowing I had control over getting to see this. I flicked another switch into the 'on' position, watching the radar screen on the dash begin to load. There was nothing on the radar yet, but I kept my gaze flicking towards it. I had no idea where my "enemy" would be approaching from. Within almost a minute, I was at a high enough altitude and steadied the plane out, feeling the left control stick shift back into a neutral stance.
"This is Barbie. I'm above the hard deck." I scanned the skies, looking for any sight of another jet. Following my lead, the plane veered left, eyes glancing to the radar. In the corner of the radar, it had picked up another plane, flying right towards me.

My goal was to test the maneuverability of the jet. I continued my approach, watching as the plane's nose came into view in front of me. Because this was a one-to-one dogfight test, there wasn't an open channel between myself and the other jet.
"What's the tactic here, Barbie?"
"Playing chicken. Don't worry, I'll pull away." I might have let the opposite jet get too close, but in the right moment, I breaked right. My breath sucked in, feeling the G's push against my body. Once I was righted again, I glanced over my shoulder, seeing the jet following my pattern.
The jet was on my radar, flying steadily behind me, the speed increasing ever so slightly. Clearly, they hadn't picked up on what my strategy was. I maintained my speed, seeing how they increased on me. Right when I knew they had me locked in their sights, I shifted the left control stick forward and pulled back on the main stick hard, feeling the plane lift upward dramatically. It was a sensation I'd never get used to, feeling my skull harshly press against my spine.

I was inverted, shooting past the other jet, pulling the joystick back to right the jet again, watching as I ended up directly behind them. I focused the targeting system and watched as it calibrated onto the jet ahead.
"Dead." I called out, hearing the loud clicking sound. The communication channel opened up and I heard a small groan,
"Damn Barbie." I let out a small laugh,
"I'll see you back at the hangar."

I lifted off my helmet, breathing in the fresh air. My air crew was walking towards me,
"Great run out there. This plane is good to go for the next round of pilots." He held his hand up for a high five. I responded once both feet were planted on the ground and I'd tucked my helmet under my arm.
"Thanks." I looked towards the other pilot, who was de-planing, "Hey Bearcub!" I called out. He turned to look at me, "Next time, don't let me get above you like that. I know what you anticipated and did the opposite. Never assume what the enemy's next move is." He nodded in response. The five years I'd been stationed in Fightertown had allowed me to become more of a leader and teacher. I gave him a small smile and nod, before pulling the zipper down slightly on my flight suit.
"Lila Elaine Blackwood-Mitchell." A male voice called out. Oh shit. Only two people referred to me by my full name, my dad and my mom. The hangar quieted around us. There was nowhere I could run, I'd been caught.
"Daddy." I said, whirling around to face him and throwing a big smile onto my face.
"We need to talk. Now." He was in his typical bomber jacket, jeans and cowboy boots. No different than the photos from when he was around my age and at Top Gun.
"Of course. How about somewhere more quiet? We'll go to my office." I hurried towards him, avoiding the daggered gaze he was shooting at me.

The walk to my office was silent, the sound even more deafening knowing this was going to become a lot worse. Once inside my office, the door slammed shut behind me.
"What in the hell were you doing?'
"Flying."
"That much was obvious. I want to know why." Dad said, his tone firm. I didn't know how best to respond. He spoke again, "We had an agreement, Lila."
"I'm sorry." I told him, my voice coming out more like a whisper.
"How could you do this? This was the only thing I asked of you."
"I know. I just- I had to do this."
"Why?" My hands came up to my face, covering my eyes. It didn't happen often, but the images flashed over my eyelids. The chaos, the nausea, the air rushing over me as the roof pulled away and then the hard ground.
"It took me six weeks to recover. I couldn't go near a plane for three months." I paused, taking a deep breath, "All I've ever wanted to be is a naval aviator. I needed something to remind me of that."    
"There are other ways to serve, Lila. You've been doing that."
    "Because I've had this to fall back on. Dad, I had to do this. I had to know if I could fly again. So I went to Uncle Ice and asked him to put in the order for me to test one of the planes."
    "You went to Ice?" Dad asked, his voice raising again.
    "I'm trying to explain why I broke our agreement." I waited for him to settle down before continuing, "It was supposed to be just one test, but I enjoyed it. And somehow everything felt okay again. I'm still honoring your request by not flying missions, but I need this."
    "You almost died, Lila. I can't lose you. Not-" His voice caught, "Not like I lost Goose."
    "Daddy, that wasn't your fault." I said, feeling small. I hated seeing the guilt still raking over my dad.
    "You are my daughter, my responsibility, it's my job to protect you."
    "You and I both knew the risks of me joining the Navy."
    "It's more than a risk when something bad happens to you."
    "I survived. And I understand why you wanted me to stop, but..." I paused, trying to get my thoughts together. It was like the anxiety was creeping up my neck and the look on my dad's face was something I'd never seen before.
    "What?" He barked out. Then I snapped,
    "I almost quit the Navy! Okay? I didn't know how to keep doing this job without being able to fly. I asked Uncle Ice to put in the flight test order, so I could see once-and-for-all if I was fit to remain in the Navy."