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I GRINNED LIKE A CHILD after takeoff. I always do. Luckily no one is ever there to see me like that, I'm sure I'd get made fun of in an instant. My plane evened out from takeoff, and I joined the clouds.
This. This feeling was the reason I chose to be a pilot. There was nothing else like it.
My thoughts are interrupted as our instructor starts our first training session. "Good morning aviators, this is your Captain speaking." Maverick spoke into his helmet. "Welcome to basic fighting maneuvers. As briefed, today's exercise is dogfighting. Guns only, no missiles, and we do not go below the hard deck of 5000 feet. You have to work as a team to shoot me or else..."
"Or else what?" I ask a little bluntly.
Maverick replied,maybe a little shocked by my attitude, "Or I'll shoot you. If I shoot one of you, you both lose."
"This old man needs to get his ego checked." Hangman said.
Such a hypocrite. I thought, rolling my eyes.
"Let's make this game a little more... entertaining." Coyote proposes.
"What's on your mind?" Maverick asks.
Coyote challenges, "Whoever gets hit first should do two hundred pushups."
My best friend is an idiot.
"I don't like doing push-ups." Maverick admits.
"That's why they call it exercise, sir." Hangman says, calling Maverick out on his old age once again. I swear this guy had a death wish as big as his ego.
"Agreed then. The fight starts... now!" Maverick declares and then disappears. It all happened so fast, and I knew that we'd all regret Coyote's challenge.
I said a little prayer in my heart, but I knew ultimately we'd all end up doing the push-ups. There's a reason Maverick has the reputation he does.
"Fanboy, do you see him?" Payback asked.
"There's nothing ahead of us on radar." Fanboy concluded.
Bob says, "Then he's somewhere behind us. Or below us, Phoenix—," and I heard Phoenix groan.
Maverick squeezed in through the little space between Hangman's and my plane, causing us quickly move out of the way before we crashed into each other. Or worse, our instructor.
Maverick chuckled into his headset, and I wanted to murder Hangman. He was going to be the death of us all. Maverick zoomed out ahead of us, straining his F-18 to its very limits, and started to swing around.
"Maverick is coming back!" Harvard yelled behind Yale.
"Let's break up! He'll pick us off easier if we're closer together," I suggested, keeping a watchful eye on Maverick, trying to see his next move.
"Red Bull is onto something!" Coyote said, "Split up!"
Listening to my and Coyote's warning, we all split up into different directions.
Maverick had to choose someone to go after, since we were all being defensive. He had to make the first move.
And Maverick chose Phoenix and Bob.
"He's on my tail!" Phoenix yelled, "Backup?"
Rooster came rushing to the rescue, chasing Maverick from behind. It was MAD or mutually assured destruction. If Maverick took Phoenix out, Rooster would take Maverick out. Nobody wins.
Suddenly, Maverick pulls back on his flight stick and does a loop-de-loop so he's behind Rooster. It would be impressive if he wasn't trying to send everyone to the ground to do 200 push-ups.
Rooster swerved out of the way, and Phoenix banked the opposite way.
The game continues, and Maverick has managed to pick people off, one by one, he's taken out Harvard, Yale, Coyote, Payback, and Fanboy. And Maverick just got Hangman, for leaving his wingman behind. Sucks to be you, Bagman.
It was down to me, Rooster, Phoenix, and Bob.
"He left?" I double check with Phoenix and Bob, two pairs of eyes are better than one.
"Affirmative." Bob answers back.
"Maverick never does what we expect him to..."
Rooster scoffed at that.
"What Rooster, you got a problem with me?" I asked, sometimes I could just keep my thoughts to myself, but I was tired of the ego measuring contest.
"Not you," he says, "just our—"
"He's here!" Bob yelled, and Maverick expertly piloted his plane between Phoenix and I. He was cutting it too close for my comfort.
"Guys, I'll split, you get him from behind." I said, putting myself in a risky position.
Maverick takes the bait, and I'm now leading him through the clouds. I suddenly dive, and approach the hard deck.
"Pull up!" Bob yells at me, and I narrowly do, but so does Maverick. He knows all the tricks in the book.
I take evasive maneuvers, trying to stay out of range for his missile lock. "Rooster and Phoenix, I don't know how much longer I can hold him. Hurry up!"
"I'm tired of Maverick." Rooster spat with as much disdain as he can muster.
Rooster cuts between Maverick and me, and Maverick banks right to follow him.
Maverick speaks up, "Rooster covered Red Bull, but it'll cost him dearly."
"Not today old man." Rooster grunts out, as he plummets towards the ground. Maverick follows him, and now it's a battle of egos.
"Rooster, stop this right now!" Maverick says, but stay firmly next to him.
We here beeping over our radios as they both break the hard deck.
"I can go as low as you Mav, and that's really saying something." Roosters seethes.
"Rooster, pull up!" I yell, watching as they get closer and closer to the ground. They both pull up, right before they hit the ground. Maverick swings around, and shoots down Rooster when his missiles lock.
"Rooster, Hondo is waiting at base to count your pushups." Maverick says, and Rooster heads back silently.
Bob speaks up, "400 feet."
"What?" Phoenix asks.
"They pulled up only 400 feet above the ground."
400 feet sounded like a lot, but not for a pilot. Not when they were flying straight towards death—the ground. Seconds later, and they would've splattered across the desert floor.
"Idiots. Both of them." I added, "Do they want to get kicked off of this detachment?"
There was more going on between Rooster and Maverick, Bradley was usually a chill guy. He would have to hate Maverick's living guys for him to react like this.
Maverick clears his throat, "And times up for the first round. Red Bull, Phoenix and Bob, you do not have to do 200 pushups like the rest of your detachment. Return to base."
"Yes sir." I hear from Phoenix and Bob.
"Aye, aye, Captain." I mutter and then I softly giggle at how absurd it sounds.
Maverick's voice comes in over my radio. "What was that Red Bull? I can't hear you."
"Nothing, nothing Maverick. On route to base." I say, ready for this day to be over, for our training to be over.
Landing was one of the worst parts of flying. It was easy, unless you were in terrible weather, but the reason I hated it is because it was the reason I was back on solid ground.
All good things must come to an end.
I parked my F-18 at the end of the line, watching as Phoenix and Bob were unloading their plane across from me.
I took a deep breath, breathing in the jet fuel. I opened my canopy, and slid down the ladder. I pulled off my helmet, and I tried to fix my sweaty hair.
I start walking away from my plane, letting the maintenance crew do their thing, when Phoenix bounds over, Bob in tow. She slung her arm over my shoulders, "We did amazing out there."
"We did more than amazing. But it's got me worried for tomorrow," I admit.
"Don't worry about it, you did good out there," Bob offers.
"Thanks, you did too. You had not only Phoenix's back, but mine too." I complimented.
The three of us were walking back to base, past all of our F-18s, all nicely parked into two rows.
"That should've been us," I said, as Hangman took a selfie with Coyote, Payback, and Fanboy, watching as Rooster struggled with his push-ups in the back ground. "We only won by default." I finished.
"Well, now you know something about Rooster," Phoenix said.
My mind raced as everything clicked together.
Rooster has history with Maverick. Rooster won't ditch his wingman. Rooster wasn't ready for this mission.
None of us were.
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