𝙁𝘼𝙈𝙄𝙇𝙔 𝙏𝙄𝙀𝙎, bradley bradshaw

𝟬𝟵. 𝗗𝗔𝗡𝗚𝗘𝗥 𝗭𝗢𝗡𝗘

"Yeah, good to see you too." Bradley placed his hands on his hips, "So, what's the plan?"

The two ran to the outer edge of the woods to survey the destroyed enemy airfield. In terms of mission planning, destroying the airfield seemed like a good safety measure. However, for the two stranded pilots, it severely limited their chance of escape. Maverick eyed a certain hangar through his binoculars. Bradley followed the captain's gaze, "You're not serious." He received an unsettling look from Maverick. Bradley took the binoculars and peered at the spot. "You've got to be shitting me. An F-14?"

"I shot down three MiGs in one of those," Maverick stated proudly.

"We don't even know if that bag of ass can fly."

"Let's find out." Maverick stood up and began the trek to the plane's hangar.

"Mav! Mav!" Bradley whisper-shouted from their hiding spot, but it didn't stop the man. Bradley grumbled and followed after him, walking directly behind Maverick. He surveyed the scene around him, "There's guys up there, Mav."

"Yep, I see them," Maverick answered matter-of-factly.

"And over there."

Maverick picked up his pace, "Yeah, let's start running."

The two aviators arrived at the F-14 hangar without being detected by enemy airfield personnel. Maverick instructed Bradley on the necessary steps to get the plane into flight mode. Bradley followed each instruction and jumped into the plane at Maverick's command. 

The taxiway in front of them was destroyed; there was no way the two were going to get the museum piece in the air. The wings of the plane extended. Bradley smushed his face into the glass of the canopy, "Um, why are the wings coming out, Mav?" It was another question without a response; Bradley loved being included in Maverick's plans. He looked ahead of them, piecing together the captain's intentions. "That is a very short taxiway, Mav."

Maverick managed to take off from what little remained of the runway, only damaging the landing gear in the process. As they flew in the general direction of the carrier, Bradley's backseat role was to operate the radio and radar.

"Get us in touch with the boat."

Bradley stared confusingly at what seemed like millions of buttons and switches around him, "Working on it." The best he could do was activate the personal tracker equipped in his flight suit.

"Sir, I've got Rooster on radar," a naval technician said from the control room on the carrier, "He's supersonic." Admirals Bates and Simpson shared a puzzled glance.

"Sir, there's an F-14 inbound to our position," added another technician. Admiral Simpson scoffed; it was Maverick. Of course, the captain was still alive; he was like a thorn in Cyclone's side.

"Send me their coordinates," Emerson ordered Mission Control. They appeared on her dash and she redirected herself to the position of her father's F-14. "Raven's inbound."

As the two men flew over the ocean, Bradley got a weird sense of déjà vu. He felt just like his dad in the backseat of a plane piloted by Maverick. It warmed his heart that he could get an inside look at his dad's life, even if he wasn't there to show Bradley.

"So, you're dating my daughter," Maverick said, interrupting Bradley's thoughts.

Bradley cleared his throat, nervous about the direction of the conversation. "I wouldn't say— Look Mav, can we not have this conversation right now?"

"So, do you two practice safe sex? I mean feel like it's my job as a parent to encourage these things," he joked.

Bradley had wide eyes, the words caught in his throat. The uncomfortableness started to make him feel claustrophobic. "I've never wanted to get shot down so badly before."

Maverick chuckled, "Listen, in all seriousness, I wouldn't want anyone else dating my daughter. A Bradshaw will always have my approval."

It was like a weight was lifted off of Bradley's shoulders; he smiled at the captain even if he couldn't see it. It wasn't like he needed Maverick's approval to date Emerson. The two men both knew the woman would do whatever she wanted with or without permission. Still, it made Bradley feel good; it made him feel whole.

Behind them, enemy planes appeared. Without a working radar, Maverick and Bradley never knew they were being followed. "What do we do?"

"Just be cool. Put your mask on and just smile and wave," Maverick answered calmly. He stuck his hand up, sending hand signals to the other pilot, trying to convey that their communications system was non-operational. The enemy pilot sent back hand signals neither Bradley nor Maverick recognized. The enemy planes moved into attack formation.

Maverick had a difficult decision to make. Here he was in an F-14, with the son of his dead best friend, facing fifth-generation fighters. To any ordinary pilot, the chance of beating a fifth-generation fighter in an F-14 would be impossible, but this was Captain Pete "Maverick" Mitchell; he could do this with his eyes closed. But that was before he had Bradley or Emerson to worry about. 

"You'd go after them if I wasn't here," Bradley stated as if he read Maverick's thoughts.

"But you are here."

"We have a girl to get back to, Mav."

On that note, Maverick increased their speed and altitude. "Holy shit!" Bradley shouted, unprepared for the sudden maneuver. The enemy planes raced after the F-14. It was a dogfight, but one that Maverick was trained for. Maverick evaded the guns and missiles of the enemy planes and shot the planes down. The two men let out a breath that neither knew they were holding; they were in the home stretch now.

Finally, Bradley found the correct switch for the radar. As he turned it on, it started beeping rapidly. Bradley searched through the canopy, "I don't see him."

Maverick looked straight ahead, "That's because he's on our nose." He reached for the trigger of the plane's gun, but he was out of ammo. There was nothing else Maverick could do; they had to eject. He flew up, attempting to gain an altitude suitable for ejection. "Eject, Bradley! Eject!"

Bradley pulled hard on the yellow loops above his head, "It's stuck!"

"I'm so sorry, Goose. Forgive me, Emerson," Maverick whispered. For the second time that day, Maverick closed his eyes, accepting his defeat. Yet, similar to last time, he never felt the impact. The fighter jet in front of them exploded from a missile. Above them, an F-18 soared by and circled back beside their F-14.

Emerson sighed over the comms, "I mean honestly, what would men do without women?"

Both men exhaled a sigh of relief; they avoided death yet again. They shook their heads laughing. "We're not going to live this down, are we?" Bradley asked.

"Of course not. She's my daughter."

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