PATCHES

2 | THE TRUTH OF THE MATTER

I'd forgotten how bad my attention span could be.

I hadn't had to sit through any kind of lecture or class since my days at the naval academy.

Admiral Ben "Clover" Bates had been rambling on about flight patterns and formations for God knows how long. All I was doing as praying I wouldn't pass out right then and there.

"Topgun was created to teach A.C.M, air combat maneuvering," Clover continued, "dogfighting."

"This gives me a hard on," Fox whispered.

I stifled a laugh. "Don't tease me."

The admiral cleared his throat and gestured down the path between the rows of chairs. "Now I would like to take this opportunity to introduce you to our commanding officer here at Topgun. He graduated top of his class. Commander John Anderson. Callsign, Hawk."

We watched as the man made his way to the front of the room.

"Ladies, gentlemen. You are the top one percent of all naval aviators. The best of the best." He toyed with his mustache as he spoke.

I smiled to myself. It reminded me of Bradley and the stupid mustache he'd decided to grow out.

"We'll make you better," the commander continued. "You'll fly at least two combat missions a day, attend classes in between and evaluations of your performance. Every combat sequence will be more difficult. You will be met with a variety of challenges. You'll fly faster than you ever have before. More dangerous."

I leaned over and whispered to Fox. "That's what I like to hear."

"In case any of you wonder who the best is... they're up here. Written on the plaque on the wall. The best driver and their R.I.O. from each class has their name on it." Hawk stared down at us one by one. "You think your name's gonna be on that plaque?"

The room was silent.

"Yes, sir."

Fox and I turned our heads. A man with sandy-brown hair sat toward the back of the rows. His arms tight to his chest and his face holding the look of a smug-self-righteous-asshole.

I knew the face of a pretty asshole quite well.

"That's pretty arrogant, considering the company you're in." Commander Anderson ran his tongue along his teeth. "What's your name?"

The guy smiled. "Jake Seresin, Hangman, Sir."

The admiral hummed in response, returning back to the front of the room. "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." He looked around the room with a hint of a smile. "Dismissed."

I got up from my seat and gave Fox a helping hand. "Looks like we know who the trouble is."

"Tell me about it."

Just as we were about to walk out the door I was stopped by the commander.

"Lieutenant Mitchell."

"Sir?"

He waited for the rest of the pilots to leave the room until it was just the two of us left.

"You carry a heavy reputation on your shoulders kid." He nodded. "We've heard more stories about you father than I can keep count."

I took a deep breath. "I'm sure everyone has sir."

"I would hope his troublesome tendencies don't run in the Mitchell blood." He raised a brow. "I will give you a warning. Don't you dare pull any of Maverick's old tricks."