Wings & Wheels

01 - this was not in the job description

PART ONE - ALTITUDE

    Of all the missions I expected this week, doing a flyover for a bunch of millionaires who drive in circles wasn't on the list.

"I apologize, sir," I said, hands clasped behind my back, brows frowned together. "Can you please repeat that?"

Dominic "Mac" MacAllister, my Squadron Leader and direct supervisor, sighed, seeming equally disdained by the news. "As you know the British Grand Prix of Formula 1 is next month and I have gotten the orders to dispatch two of my pilots to do a flyover to boost recruitment – and hopefully funding – in the RAF. Since you are the best in my squadron, I have decided to go with you."

My wingwoman Maya "Switch" Halford frowned. "Can't they simply play Top Gun again in theaters? That usually does the trick."

Mac sighed. Something in the way he did it made me believe he had also suggested that to command. "Apparently they can't." He opened the top drawer in his desk and took two badges with lanyards. "They also gave us this. VIP passes for the grid on Saturday so you can get to know the surroundings for when you fly over on Sunday right before the start of the race."

"With all due respect, sir," I began, eying the badges as if they contained the Black Plague itself. "Maya and I know Britain like our own backyard. We've never needed a walk-through before."

Mac sighed again – something he seemed to be doing a lot when he was frustrated. "I believe they want to show you off, you know, as 'a show of strength'," Mac said, handing us our badges. "Just be there and make sure you leave a good impression. Further instructions will follow. You are dismissed."

"Yes, sir," both Maya and I said, before heading out of his office.

"This is kind of exciting," Maya said, once we were in the hallway. She looked closely at her badge, before rubbing it with her thumb. "I've never been to a Grand Prix before – my brother will be so jealous!"

I knew Maya's younger brother, Robert, had been a fan of Formula 1 for what seemed to be his entire life. I had learned to dodge their calls - I was tired of listening to how good and handsome Callum Rhodes was. Who the bloody hell even was that guy? Probably some F1 driver who thinks too much of himself.

"Show of strength," I muttered, replaying the entire conversation in my head. "More like a waste of jet fuel."

"Don't be so grumpy – I am sure you're gonna love it!" Maya said, nudging me, her green eyes shining. "Besides, it's something else – something new."

I didn't reply as the steel doors of the squadron bay groaned open as the two of us stepped into the hangar, the midday light bouncing off the Typhoons lined up like obedient wolves. Obedient gorgeous wolves if you'd ask me. The scent of grease, jet fuel, and scorched rubber clung to the air – grounding and familiar. This was where I felt most like me.

Maya walked with a bounce in her step, still spinning her VIP badge around one finger like a kid who'd found a golden ticket.

"Do you think we'll get to meet any drivers?" she asked, half teasing, half hopeful.

"I'm hoping we don't," I muttered, tugging my flight gloves off and stuffing them into my thigh pocket. My VIP badge was already safely secured around my neck.

"You're no fun," Maya said, sidestepping a mechanic rolling a trolley of tools. "Come on, it's not every day we get treated like celebrities instead of missile jockeys." She waved her badge at me to confirm what she had said. "VIP, remember?"

"If they hand me a microphone, I'm ejecting," was all I said.

Maya snorted. "Noted. No speeches, definitely no microphone, just smug air superiority."