The Danger Zone

Chapter 4

I was just about to return to base after having achieved my victory, when out of my peripheral vision, I saw a small line of dots on the horizon. Dang it. Another five Daggers, swooping in perfect formation towards me. I cursed under my breath. I thought there were only supposed to be two rounds of Dog fighting. Just then, Admiral Jawskins voice filled my head.

"Can you take down five?"

"Umm, sir. Arn't there only supposed to be two rounds of dog fighting," I asked as I watched the five daggers come closer. They were still only specs in the distance, but I knew they would not be as easily confused as the other daggers had been. They were fresh and prepared to fight. I was not.

"We decide the rounds of the evaluations, not you, Hornet."

Again, I cursed under my breath. Five whole fighter jets with fresh pilots, eager to take me down, against one fighter jet whose pilot was long past exhausted.

"Sir, isn't this a bit unfair?" I asked again, dropping ever so slightly to be a bit more undetectable, giving me an extra forty seconds to prepare.

"We make the rules." There was a pause and then, in a voice dripping with sarcasm, "You can forfeit if you want. That'll just leave a little mark on your papers. Age 25, forfeited a fight in evaluation. Father would be disappointed don't you think?"

I scowled as my grip on the centre stick tightened in frustration. Yes, he would be. But not for the reasons Admiral Jawskins was inferring. Flashbacks of my last fight with my dad came into my mind, begging for attention. But I had to focus. I had to take down five fricken jets. 

There was no way.

But I had to try.

"No. I'm not forfeiting. I'm just stating that this is an unfair fight," I paused. "Because there's no way those daggers have even a chance at winning," I said, covering up my fear with my signature cockiness. 

Admiral Jawskins laughed without any humor. "If you want to believe that. Hard Deck stays the same. Missile Lock only. Begin."

Taking a deep breath, I looked down at my gloved hands, tightly clenching and releasing them until I felt ready. The only way to win this unfair fight was to be...well...unfair. I had to twist the rules to my advantage. I had to use the tricks I had learned. I had to do the one thing I vowed never to do. I had to think like my father. And Gio. I had to be unpredictable, constantly confusing and distracting.

Finally, after another deep breath, I looked up to the line of daggers. They were closer now,  only 4,000 feet away. Still in a straight formation, the Daggers looked impenetrable, moving tightly together. The only way to win was to separate them. And the only way to separate them was to fly straight up between them, a move my dad often used.

Without getting missile locked.

And without crashing into them.

And without dying.

I could do that. I hoped. All I had to do was wait for the Daggers to reach the perfect angle. Then I would go up between and missile lock at least one of them. And so the fight would begin.

When the daggers reached my 11 o'clock, just above me, I took off, suddenly accelerating until I flew directly between them, forcing them apart and into disarray. Perfect. Step 1 complete. Step 2...

Beeeeeeeep.

...Complete. One down, four more to go. For my next strategy, I decided to to fly in the blind spot of the first dagger, making that dagger, move up straight into my path. Gio taught me how to do this right before we were chosen for Top Gun. As the dagger veered up, unaware of my deadly position, I missile locked.