V i p e r || J. Seresin

Mission

Maverick looks to me in which I continue for him, "makes it four aircraft flying in pairs," I look at the incline of the mountain seeing the steepness of it. I sigh roughly, "that is one hell of a steep climb out of there. Exposing all surface missiles, if you survive that..." I trail off looking back at my dad.

We look at each other with the same thought. "It's a dog fight all the way home." I shake my head in agreement.

"All requirements for which you have worldwide experience," Bates gives us a stern look.

"Uh," he tilts his head slightly, "all the same mission, sir."

I shake my head looking back at the screen. "No," I pause looking down, "someone's not coming back from this."

Simpson doesn't even skip a beat. "Can it be done or not?"

"How soon before the plan becomes operational?" I question stepping off to the side.

"Three weeks. Maybe less," Bates concludes.

"It's been a while since I 've driven an F-18 and...I'm not sure who I can trust to fly the other three. But I'll try to make it work."

Admirals glance at each other confused by his statement and from the looks on their faces I think I know what they're about to say. "I think you misunderstand, Captain."

"Sir?"

"We don't want you to fly it. We want you to teach it."

In a confused and frankly concerned voice Maverick questions, "teach, sir?"

Oh yeah, they fucked up. This is not going to go well.

Admiral Simpson sighs before pointing back to the screen, abnormally large might I add. "We've recalled twelve Top Gun graduates from their quadrants. We want you to narrow that pool down to six," as he continues Mav's eyes flicker over the screen my stop when a familiar face is put directly in front of him. "They will fly the mission. Is there a problem, Captain?"

I train my eye on the photo and gulp out of fear for my father's reaction. The last thing needed was him being on this mission and having my father oversee it.

"You know there is, sir?"

Pressing on the tablet the familiar and goofy face is much brighter now. "Bradley Bradshaw AKA 'Rooster.' I understand you used to fly with his old man. What was his call sign?"

Seeing the difficulty he has with the name I answer just above a whisper, "Goose, sir."

"Tragic what happened."

"Captain Mitchell was cleared of any wrongdoing, Goose's death was an accident."

Beside me he swallows thickly and I can see the sweat build up on his face. I can only imagine the thoughts running through his mind at the moment.

"Is that how you see it, Captain? Is that how Goose's son sees it?"

With a spike of confidence Maverick speaks out. "With all your respect, sir, I'm not a teacher." I smile softly over to him to which he returns the favor.

"You were a Top Gun instructor before."

"That was thirty years ago, I lasted two months. It's not where I belong."

"Then let me be perfectly blunt," Simpson says in a harsher tone," you were not my first choice.
Infact you weren't even on the list. You are here at the request of Admiral Kazansky. Now, Iceman happens to be a man I deeply admire and he seems to think you still have something to offer the Navy. What that is I can't imagine. You don't have to take this job, but let me be clear. This will be your last post, Captain. You fly for Top Gun, or you don't fly for the Navy ever again."

I nudge him slightly giving him a boost of positivity. In return he takes the job and we leave.

We find our way through the unusually large area to a Navy bar on the shore. Sitting at the bar with our phones in hand they buzz. I don't know why I was added to the groupchat because I don't nearly have as close of a connection to this situation unlike my dad and Iceman, or as I like to call him Uncle Ice.

Ice: That didn't go well.

Maverick: The kid's not ready for this mission.

Ice: No one is.
Ice: That's why you're here.

Me: You could have warned us.

Ice: Would you come?

Our depressing back to back texting is interrupted by a weirdly familiar voice. "You've got to be kidding me," I peer up gaping my mouth and turning away quickly taking my drink and my phone but still staying in my seat. "Pete."

"Penny?"

Yup, that's my queue to leave. I take my belongings and walk away to the other end of the bar.