chapter two
❝ i always run away ❞
FTSD
OCTOBER 24 ; 07:12 HOURS
MISSION COUNTDOWN : — 00:20 DAYS
Kade woke in a cold sweat.
Tangled in sheets, heart pounding, her breathing was loud in her ringing ears.
She nearly fell off the bed trying to get to her little orange bottles on her nightstand. She swallowed the white and blue pills dry, feeling them scrape painfully down the tight channel of her throat. The relief wasn't immediate, but it was close. She would wait. She folded her arms tightly around her shins and tugged her thighs closed to her chest like this could ward off her nightmares.
Did they count as nightmares when they were just endless tortuous replays of reality?
She couldn't be sure.
All that mattered was that she still dreamt about it, after all these years.
Sometimes Kade repeated their callsigns to her bedroom ceiling, ensuring she would never forget their names, reciting these words like a prayer, like a plea for forgiveness. Judge. Elvis. Berlin. Hurricane. Apollo. She should have gone to their funerals. Why hadn't she gone to their funerals?
Kade nervously glanced across her kneetops to the hanger cover waiting on the back of her door. It had been there when she came back from The Hard Deck last night, waiting in the dark like a monster. It stared at her all night, taunting her, intimidating her. Kade unsteadily got to her feet, lumbered across her bedroom, and carefully unzipped the covering. Her breath tripped out of her lungs at what was beneath. Her khakis. Pressed and cleaned, looking as new as the day she first received them.
A note was stuck to the cover, reading:
For your fresh start. I know you'll make me proud. — Dad
Breath catching, Kade tore off the note and shoved it to the very bottom of her trash can as if this could shove it to the back of her mind. Shedding her heavy long—sleeve that she wore for sleep, she took a deep breath and began dressing in what she once wore nearly every day.
It still fit; in fact, it was a bit loose on her. She had lost weight since her flying days, all the muscle and healthy fat was long gone. With her history, it was no wonder she was fighting to reach a hundred pounds. She was working hard on getting it all back; exercise was a good part of therapy, apparently.
Kade roughly dragged her brush through the tangled snarls of her hair once, twice, three times, then four out of nervous desperation. Then, after running her nails along her scalp and smoothing her part with gel, she twisted her hair into that same tight regulation bun. Her hands moved purely out of muscle memory; she barely had time to remember the process.
She ignored the mirror on the way out.
Kade crept down the stairs, trying to remember how to breathe — in and out, in and out. She turned the corner and found her family already waiting for her. Everything and everyone stopped at the sight of her, silverware hitting plates and glasses hitting table. She could've sworn she saw her father's eyes shine a bit brighter before she quickly looked away.
Tommy blurted, "Holy sh—t."
Holy sh—t was right. Normally, her parents didn't approve of language at the table, especially around Finch, but everyone was far too distracted by this strange new creature who just entered the kitchen to even notice.
Unsure of where to look or what to say, Kade squirmed a little, "Doesn't fit right."
"No, it's perfect." Sarah murmured softly, stepping closer with her fingers pressed to her smiling lips, "There she is, there's my baby — my proud, confident, brilliant baby girl..."
"They're just clothes, Mom."
"I know. You're just finally looking like yourself again."
Her chest filled with butterflies, circling around the cold remnants of her heart.
"Mommy." Finch's nose scrunched, "You look weird."
Kade cracked a smile.
Everyone else let out startled breaths that sounded halfway amused and halfway nervous as hell.
"I'm right there with you, Finch," her youngest brother joined in a bit too eagerly, voice less sweet than his counterpart's, "She does look weird."
"Reece..." Sarah scolded while Tom tapped his shoulder disapprovingly.
"What? Finch said it first."
"Finch is also five years old."
"Plus she's cuter than you," Kade informed him snidely before kissing the top of her daughter's head and taking her usual seat beside her.
Her youngest brother stuck his tongue out before even realizing it. He quickly stopped and dropped his head back to his plate. This action was not allowed. It was too... brotherly. Too familiar. He had forgotten he was angry at her. When she subtly peeked over, Tommy wouldn't even look at her.
Tom shot her a reassuring glance that Kade pretended not to notice.
Finch tugged at her sleeve, whispering, "Mommy? What's these?"
Kade followed her little finger, watching tensely as she traced the colors and ribbons on her chest. Through a tight throat, she barely managed, "Nothing at all, Birdie."
Tom hid a flinch at that.
"Oh, don't listen to your mother being modest, Finch." It wasn't modesty; it was d—mn justified. Still, Sarah continued, "Those are all her awards and medals and things she received for being so good at her job."
Kade just wanted her to stop. She did not deserve it. None of this. That was why she tore off her ribbon strip in the first place. She had torn them off, every single one of them. She wasn't exactly sure who had taken the time and effort to put each specific ribbon back on... but she could guess.
It was Iceman, of course it was.
This time, she couldn't resist looking back at him. He gave her a smile she couldn't return, a tear welling in the corner of his eye. There's my girl, he thought, I knew you were still in there. He still believed in her. She could not fail him again.
"Wow..." Little Finch was sufficiently impressed, gazing up at her with eyes full of wonder, "Will you tell me what they's mean, Mommy?"
"Maybe later, Birdie." Kade smiled shakily, stroking the back of her head, "Um, I should go."
"Don't you want something to eat first, Kadie?"
"No." Her voice was barely more than a whisper. "Not hungry."
On numb and aching limbs, Kade kissed her daughter goodbye, got to her unsteady feet, and felt her family's stares all the way out the door.
Kade drove to TOPGUN with the windows down.
She couldn't resist speeding up to race the planes taking off on the runway beside the road. Eyes twinkling in the rearview, grinning at the fighter jets, she used to do that all the time when she was younger. It didn't cause the same pain she expected it to. She got onto base without a problem, even though her heart was pounding and her palms were sweating like she was terrified they would kick her out any second. She remembered where to find the hangar and easily found an open parking space. It had all gone off without a hitch. Perfect. Simple.
The only problem was, now she couldn't get out of the d—mn car.
Kade clung onto the steering wheel with a vice—like grip, hanging on for dear life, like she was trying to break it off. Her palms were sweating, her skin clammy, her heart pounding. Blood was rushing to her ears, drowning out the sound of her car's A/C and the base outside. Her vision narrowed, narrowed, narrowed, until all she could see through was a single pinprick of the F—18 waiting on the tarmac.
Kade jumped a d—mn mile when someone knocked on her window. When she landed back on earth, she had enough wherewithal to recognize her uncle Pete on the other side. With a strangled gasp, Kade's shaking hands managed to unlock the door so Maverick could pull it open. Immediately, he was unbuckling her seatbelt and half—dragging her out of her seat so she was facing him.
"Hey, kid, hey—,"
"I think—," she choked and gasped, "I think 'M havin' a h—heart attack—,"
"Geez, Kade, hang on. Just breathe with me, kid." He raised his hands between them, motioning to match his words, "Breathe in... Hold it for five seconds — count with me: one, two, three, four, five. Good, breathe out. Now, repeat."
They continued this exercise for a few minutes before her breathing returned to normal, the black receding and her vision clearing. He kept his hand on her shoulder, squeezing lightly to encourage her silently. Then, once her eyes met his, he broke their silence.
"You take your meds this morning?"
If it was anyone else, she would have been offended — even angry — that they asked. But it was Maverick, and he never intended to hurt or embarrass her. He only ever cared.
So, once she finally caught her breath, Kade murmured, "The prescribed amount this time."
Her words pinged against the fragile air between them, just the right amount of morbidity to make this awkward. The silence stretched. Kade was straight—faced. Maverick's eyes were huge. Then, suddenly, she coughed out a laugh, gave a wink, and donned that infamous Kazansky smile. First startled and then amused, Uncle Pete snorted and shook his head off to the side.
"That's... That's just terrible, kid."
"Hey, if you can't joke about it..."
He rolled his eyes but that smile didn't fade.
She exhaled again slowly, confessing, "I'm not sure I can do this, Mav."
Uncle Pete gripped her shoulder, his touch grounding, "You can do this, kid. I know it, and Ice knows it too."
"Does he?" Kade coughed out, rubbing her palm into her aching forehead, "Or does he just want to know it?"
"He knows."
She wished she had their confidence. Her father always had too much faith in her, and she no longer deserved it. She murmured, "You know how the pilots are going to look at me."
"If anyone had to go through what you did, they would have done the exact same thing."
She wasn't so sure.
But before she would even have to face those who were once her fellow aviators, Kade first had to visit Admiral's Simpson and Bates for introductions and the initial mission debrief. Thrilling. She kept her gaze on the floor as they entered the building, eyes focused on the Pacific Fleet emblem to avoid looking at the pictures of her father on the walls. She matched Maverick's pace, letting him guide her, even though she knew this building like the back of her hand. Finally, they paused just outside the door to the conference room, shoulder to shoulder, as they each hesitated to enter.
For a moment, they just... did nothing. One minute passed. Then two. Pete was frowning at the door. Kade was tapping her foot. Three minutes. She wondered how much longer they could delay the inevitable. Not very long apparently because suddenly Mav was saying:
"Word of warning. Simpson's a harda—s."
"Wait, what—?"
He opened the door before she could finish and, together, they stepped inside. Time to face the music. Two men sat at the end of a long conference table, neither speaking as the niece and her uncle stopped at the opposite end. It took everything within Kade not to fidget. Since when did the infamously cool and collected Kade Kazanskty fidget?
"Ms. Kazansky."
It was the man at the very end of the table that spoke first, the stern lines of his face making it clear that he was Simpson. His statement of her name wasn't exactly a greeting, but it was close enough. He had also dropped her rank; it surprised her more than it should.
"I'm Admiral 'Cyclone' Simpson and this is Admiral Bates, AKA Warlock." His tone was flat, unimpressed as he motioned between himself and the man next to him, "Thank you for showing up."
Thanks for not going AWOL again; that was what he was really saying.
They all knew it. No one could address it, though.
After her own forcibly respectful greetings, Kade stood next to Pete, hands folded behind her back as she listened to Admiral Bates describe the mission. Her mind immediately went to work in a way she didn't even know she was capable of anymore. Flying a F—35 Stealth was out of the question due to the GPS jamming; another aircraft could do better. The Surface to Air Missiles would mean a low level strike, numerous bombs in rapid succession. It was a hell of a steep climb out of the valley where the uranium plant was located, and once they breached, they would have a dogfight all the way back to the carrier. That being said, a team of aircrafts would be better suited.
It was beyond complicated, a sheer certainty for failure and inevitable death.
Definitely what Kade was used to.
When the description finished, they fell into silence where the two admirals just stared at her. Kade got the distinct and unpleasant feeling that they were testing her, wanting to hear her assessment of the mission, wanting her to prove that she could even be useful. Swallowing hard, she answered as succinctly as she could.
"For the best chance at success, I'd recommend a team of four aircrafts, preferably F/A—18s, to drop two bombs using a low level laser strike method."
There. Done. Could she go home now?
In the silence that followed, Kade glanced at her godfather and found the corner of Maverick's mouth twitching upward.
"So you and the captain are in agreement then. Perfect." Admiral Simpson clipped back, clearing his throat before continuing, "Ms. Kazansky, you have been recalled in an assisting capacity, here to bolster Captain Mitchell's lessons with knowledge of your own flight experience."
Her stomach twisted at his words. Flight experience? Was that what they were calling what happened?
"You have instructional authority in the classroom, in the hangar, and on the tarmac. Not in the air. I do not want to see you anywhere near a cockpit, is that understood?"
Not in the air?
Confusion rippled through Kade's sternum and up her throat, leaving a bad taste in her mouth. Her brow twitched just slightly, eyes sliding between Maverick's tightening expression to Cyclone's stern gaze. She swallowed back the bad taste and her instinct to snap back. She had to think the words over in her head, choosing each as carefully as she could. Kade was a little rusty in speaking to authority figures since her fall from grace.
The blonde woman cleared her throat, "Respectfully, won't the fact that I can't fly make it a little difficult to instruct the graduates, sir?"
"It's a simple 'tell, not show'. I'm sure Captain Mitchell will fly enough for the both of you."
Her expression was slipping all over the place, knee beginning to bounce. "I was under the impression I was here because of my 'flight experience'."
"You are here because of who your father is."
The air had been sucked from the room.
Kade's entire body instinctively locked up, that old fire burning through her ice cold veins. She was aware of how many people thought she got to where she used to be because of her daddy's influence. The Navy was all about connections, and by God, did Kade have them. It would be only natural to use the stellar Kazansky reputation to climb to the very top.
But Kade did the exact opposite. The girl had gone out of her way to staunchly, even rudely reject every opportunity for nepotism that existed. She would not trade on her father's name. She would not simply live up to her family's legacy, she would extend it — she would create a legacy of her own. Everything she had ever accomplished she had done on her own merit.
But... that wasn't really the truth anymore, was it?
The only reason she was here was because of her father's influence.
Suddenly Maverick was beside her instead of just behind her, his tension obvious. Warlock was eyeing his counterpart with a stern glance, but if Cyclone noticed the harshness of his words, he didn't show it. He carried on just as harshly as before.
"If it were up to me, Ms. Kazansky, you would not step one foot onto another Naval base."
Kade barely held back the flinch that shuddered through her body at his words.
"Unfortunately, you have a reputation, Ms. Kazansky. A very bad one. The Navy is a small world, and when an admiral's aviator daughter disappears for two years, it tends to get a lot of attention."
She knew that, of course she did.
Kade Kazansky went from golden girl status to the lost daughter everyone gossiped about around dinner tables. And when she said everyone, she meant everyone. Friends, family, and strangers alike. She became a social pariah after she came back; people she had known her whole life wanted nothing to do with her. Her father's fame meant her shame was in the spotlight. It didn't reflect well on her parents, her father especially. She knew people probably looked at him differently, treated him differently, thought of him differently.
"Since your 'flight experience' ended with The Incident in Bosnia, you have garnered quite the rap sheet." Cyclone cleared his throat and looked down at the open file on the glass table, "An impressive twenty—two month disappearance. Assault charges unable to prove. Theft charges unable to prove. Confirmed charges of drug possession. A near dishonorable discharge from the Navy. A four month stint in rehab preceding a three year house arrest..."
Honestly, what the hell? Did they just call her back here to humiliate her? Shove her mistakes down her throat like she didn't already remember them every waking minute? It was cruel. It was unusual. The urge to say, 'Wait 'til my father hears about this' had never been stronger.
Kade knew she would never tell her father about this.
She was shifting uncomfortably, choosing a spot on the wall to stare at until this was over. She felt Pete's steady presence just across her shoulder, and she was as comforted as she was embarrassed. She was sure he knew about all of this anyway, but it was hell having to be around when he heard it a second time.
Cyclone was still busy reciting her long list of sins when Maverick suddenly cut in, "That's enough."
Nearly every head in the room snapped to look at her godfather.
"I'm sure Commander Kazansky remembers what happened, you don't need to remind her... Sir."
Kade didn't dare look over, but she could feel the gratitude rolling off her in waves.
Cyclone's lips thinned, squinting at the woman for a moment longer before determining, "I don't want any of that kind of behavior on my base during your brief time here. Is that understood?"
Jaw clenched so tight it hurt, Kade managed, "Understood, sir."
She had no dignity left to even consider saving it, so once she was free to go, she fairly sprinted her a—s out of there. She was fighting hyperventilation again when Maverick appeared beside her. They had their backs against the wall, shoulders pressed. He was giving her that look — the one that said, 'Sorry kid, I know life gave you a sh—tty, sh—tty hand, and I know sh—t all what to do about that'. It was a look she was familiar with.
"You okay, kid?"
He knew she wasn't, but what else could he say?
"Yes." She slowly exhaled a shaky breath, "Super. In fact, I'm doing the best I ever have."
"I see your sarcasm is still surviving."
"Surviving and thriving."
His smirk widened and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, shaking her a little, "There she is. Ready to go meet the graduates?"
She wanted to say no, but it didn't seem like the right answer so she said nothing at all.
Warlock's speech was nearly over by the time they entered the hangar. The twelve candidates were arranged in neat rows, facing towards the massive red, white, and blue flag. Her heart began to pound up into her throat, making it impossible to swallow.
"Your instructors are two TOPGUN graduates with real world experience in every mission aspect you will be expected to master. Their exploits are legendary, and they are considered to be two of the finest pilots this program has ever produced."
Back straight, breathing steady, Kade walked alongside Maverick as they slowly began the path through the graduates.
"What they have to teach you may very well mean the difference between life and death..." Finally, Warlock introduced, "I give you our civilian liaison, Ms. Kade Kazansky, and Captain Pete Mitchell. Call sign: Maverick."
With that, they finally turned and faced their students for the next three weeks.
Behind the podium, Maverick began with a small smirk, "Good morning."
As her uncle began his speech, Kade looked up and down the rows of candidates, cool, steady, already assessing their new 'students'.
Phoenix — battle ready, no nonsense, and her slightly nervous but skilled WSO, Bob. Payback and Fanboy, two seaters and best friends, some of the friendliest faces out there. Coyote, Louisiana—born, second—generation pilot whose mission history was more classified than not. Always impressive. And then... Bradley. Rooster, as he was now called apparently, but she would never be able to call him that. Experienced single—seater, eager to prove himself, her big brother in everything but blood, the same one she hadn't talked to in seven years. She looked away just as he looked back.
There seemed to be a lot of avoiding going on.
As Bradley was avoiding Maverick, Kade was avoiding Bradley... not to mention the other graduate not five feet away from her.
Kade's eyes finally, begrudgingly trailed to the aviator sitting in the front row. Jake 'Hangman' Seresin felt that icy stare of his new instructor and glanced in her direction. Their eyes met. Surprise rippled into thrill. He gave her that smile, that same one from the bar last night, grinning at her from around his toothpick. She smiled coldly back, expecting it to scare him off as it did most men who looked at her.
It didn't.
He just kept smirking. Her eyes slowly narrowed.
A—shole.
Uncle Pete was still speaking, "—Today, we'll start with what you only think you know. Show us what you're made of."
As the aviators prepared to go on the flight light, Maverick introduced Kade to his friend, Hondo, as proud of her as always. Bernie 'Hondo' Coleman seemed like a good guy, and she understood why her uncle liked him so much. He was the first person she met today who didn't seem like he was going to make her life a living hell. As the minutes ticked by, the pilots were still taking their sweet time in the locker room and so she had been tasked with hurrying up the process.
She was just outside the door when she heard:
"—sh—t, Kade Kazansky."
She froze, every muscle and limb going rigid, heart leaping up from her chest into her throat.
She wasn't totally sure who was speaking — Fanboy, she thought, "As in Fleet Admiral Kazansky's daughter?"
"Didn't she go by the callsign 'Frost'?" Payback asked, "As in...?"
"Yeah. That Frost." A woman's voice — Phoenix. "Another Ringknocker, I heard of her at Annapolis. D—mn, she is good."
"You talk about the best of the best, well, you were lookin' at her." That was Bradley, she would know his voice anywhere, "She's like her father: ice cold, no mistakes."
"Until one very big mistake."
"Yeah, until then..."
Kade's jaw tightened to ward off a flinch.
It was Coyote who spoke up next, "You heard about what happened to her, right?"
"Isn't she the one who went a little...?" Bob quietly trailed off, as if he was afraid to continue.
"Yeah."
Phoenix gave a low scoff, voice bouncing off the tile walls as she asked, "If she couldn't even keep her own squadron alive, how the hell is she going to help us—,"
The squad of candidates rounded the corner out of the locker room, heads down, mid—conversation, and then they spotted her. Kade Kazansky. Frost herself. Every single one of them froze. Various shades of guilt swept across their faces, nervously glancing at each other, shifting where they stood.
"Sh—t."
A beat. Their final words hung in the air. No one dared to even breathe.
Bradley was the first to move, mouth opening to speak when she swiftly cut in.
"Aviators." Kade forced a tight, bitingly cold smile, "Get your a—ses out on the flight line; Rooster, Payback, Fanboy, you're up first."
"Yes ma'am," came the voices of the three pilots.
They all filed past her, wearing mixed expressions of regret, embarrassment, and general uneasiness. The only one who didn't match the others was, naturally, Hangman who just stared curiously at her as he passed. Kade did her best to ignore him, chin held high and eyes staring past them. Then, as soon as they were out of sight, the woman buried her face in her hands and tried to bury a frustrated scream.
Off to a great start, Kazansky.
Kade quickly got busy in the control room where the aviators waited their turn and she prepared evaluations with Hondo. She opened her binder and began taking notes, ready to track each aviator's performance. She could hear the pilots talking all around them, sensed Hangman sitting alone in the corner of the room, but she didn't pay much attention to them. Via the radio, Maverick was being his usual cocky self, egging their students on with mock dogfights and bets and all the usual bullsh—t.
Frowning, Hangman suddenly announced to the room, "This guy needs an ego check."
That caught her attention.
Careful not to address their interactions at the bar last night, Kade rose a brow over at the man, "Hangman, I'm curious. You think you know of anyone capable of that?"
All too happy to have captured her attention, the blond smirked up at her, "I might, ma'am. You might be looking at him."
"I'd say that's rather arrogant of you, Lieutenant."
"Yes ma'am."
"Uh huh."
The others glanced at each other, eyes wide and smirking in anticipation.
But Kade wasn't about to scold him like they wanted. Instead, "Good thing. You need that to be a pilot. You have to think you're the king of the d—mn world to even want to fly like that. Just keep in mind the other component of success, Hangman: teamwork."
He matched her smirk and refused to look away.
She couldn't tell if she hated or liked this man. She also wasn't willing to waste time trying to figure it out.
Instead, Kade listened to the radio with Hondo, taking notes all the while in her little binder. Each pilot was more than skilled; she saw why they were the best of the best, no doubt. But for all their strengths, they still had their weaknesses. One by one, Mav smoked each pilot and Hondo's time overseeing the push—ups was racking up. Desperately trying to avoid Bradley's gaze, she listened closely as the final hop came up. Hangman's turn. Time to see if he could put his money where his mouth was.
"Say Phoenix." Hangman's tone was mocking again, caught up in a joke only he knew, "How's about we tell everyone Bob stands for something. Other than Robert, I mean."
The WSO sounded about to defend himself when Phoenix cut in, "Don't take the bait, Bob. Wanna know why we call him Hangman?"
Kade certainly did. Tilting her head curiously, she stepped closer to the radio and waited for her to continue.
"Oh wait, I got it. Baby on Board." There was laughter as Hangman cackled at his own joke until he suddenly gasped, "Sh—t!"
And there was her uncle Pete, no doubt doing some of that pilot sh—t, "Greetings, aviators. Fight's on."
"Alright, Phoenix, let's take this guy out!"
He sounded far too confident for what was coming next.
Bradley suddenly strode up on Kade's side, making her entire body tense before he murmured, "Watch your back, Phoenix."
Kade shot him a cautious glance, holding her breath like even breathing was too dangerous. But Bradley concentrated on the training, refusing to look at her as she expected him to. She couldn't tell what was worse.
The aviators in the sky were calling instructions to each other until Bob incredulously asked, "Where's he going?"
It didn't take a genius to figure out he meant none other than Lieutenant Jake Seresin.
"That's why we call him Hangman. He'll always hang you out to dry."
Maverick scoffed, "Leaving your wingman. There's a strategy I haven't seen in a while."
So much for teamwork, Kade thought blandly. They continued the mock dogfight in the air for another few minutes, throwing insults back and forth as Hangman was absolutely unhelpful. Soon enough, Phoenix and Bob were out — their wingman leaving them completely in the dust.
"Evil be gone." He was the last man standing, crooning, "Hangman's comin'."
"Yep!" Maverick's tone was strained as he replied, "You're good, I'll give you that."
Kade stepped even closer to the radio, critically biting at her thumbnail as Hangman groaned, "Sh—t. Phoenix, I can't see him. How close am I? Phoenix?"
"I'm dead, dickhead," replied the female pilot through a smirk.
Bob added with a laugh, "See ya in the afterlife, Bagman."
Kade amusedly scoffed to herself as Hangman did the same over the radio, murmuring to himself, "Where is he, where is he..."
And of course Maverick brought him down, too.
"That's a kill."
Kade rolled her eyes and scribbled a note next to his name: Cowboy.
As training ended for the day, she moved out onto the hot tarmac. On the way, she passed a flushed Bob and a very annoyed—looking Phoenix. The female aviator swiftly looked away at Kade's approach, steely gaze locked on the glowing orange horizon. The WSO offered a small apologetic smile that was impossible to not return. She dipped her head somewhat and marched on. Hangman was stretching on the pavement, flight suit tied around his waist with only his black tanktop on his chest, practically shimmering in the fading sunlight.
Kade called out, "Nicely done, cowboy."
Hangman looked up and a grin instantly cracked over the serious set of his lips, "As I live and breathe, if it isn't Commander Kade Kazansky. What a pleasure." She stopped a few feet away as he relaxed back onto the warm tarmac, smiling up at her in the sunlight. "You didn't tell me who you were last night."
"You didn't ask."
He paused, considered it, and then tsked overdramatically, "I always skip over that part."
"The part where you ask the name of the person you're flirting with?" Unimpressed, Kade folded her arms over the binder and hugged it close to her chest, "I'm sure you do, pretty boy."
Hangman's green eyes sparkled, "You think I'm pretty?"
Not able to deny it, Kade allowed herself a small smirk, "You clearly do, too. Not to mention, you're a d—mn good pilot."
"You think so?"
"Yes. But you're a sh—tty teammate."
Hangman's smirk dropped instantly.
"That hop today, you followed your ego instead of your wingman. Of course you got killed and you deserved to. It was a really stupid mistake. In battle, it could get people — it could get you — killed."
His expression was becoming increasingly unhappy, but whatever. She decided she did not care. He could be unhappy all he liked. His happiness wasn't her job. Her job was to make sure he got out of this alive — simple as that.
"Thanks for the pep talk, teach." Hangman exhaled through his nose, a sense of tension to his words even if he kept his voice light and carefree, "But I know what I'm doing, I can take care of myself."
"Talent isn't a shield, Hangman. Instincts aren't enough. Do it Maverick's way. He's the best of the best because he's worked these things out. The good pilots can become better and the great ones can learn how to stay alive." At his silence, Kade narrowed her analyzing eyes and shook her head, "Why are you trying to do this the hard way?"
"It's my own way. It works for me." He shrugged one muscular shoulder, "Frankly, my dear, I don't give a d—mn about the rest of that team bullsh—t."
"Then why are you here?"
"For the same reason you were, the same reason Maverick is."
His answer exhausted her, and her jaw clenched when she remembered the night before, "You mean the thrill."
"Hell yeah, the thrill. The flying. The fighting. I'd go up there ten times a day to fight. I'd win at least nine of them. That's all I want to do. It's what I do best. I am real good, darlin'. Just give me the jet and give me the mission."
Kade frowned down at him for a moment longer, sighing to herself as she prepared to leave, "Nine out of ten is great, as long as it's only fun and games. But this isn't about that, Hangman. This is serious sh—t. We both know how dangerous it is up there. For this mission, at 660 knots, things can change in a second. Discipline is what protects you."
"Did it protect you?"
That was out of line.
Hangman seemed to realize it too, face scrunching and head dipping between his shoulders. Those walls of hers came back up, a shield of ice and pain protecting her from sticks and stones and words, too. Her expression showed the briefest hint of pain before she buried it down again.
He opened his mouth to say something — an apology, an explanation, anything.
Kade didn't give him a chance, cutting in coolly and casually, "It was still a good day, Seresin. You learned something. You lost and you're still alive to think about it. But you left your wingman. That's a cardinal sin, Lieutenant... Don't ever do it again. You owe Phoenix and Bob an apology and you owe me some human decency."
Without another word, Kade turned and left him sitting on the tarmac, making her decision:
She hated this man.
ANNIE SPEAKS
you guyyyys. i live for their sass and tension, it means everything to me. couples who quip together, stay together. jake and kade deserve everything. also, the kazansky's mean everything to me, and i can't wait for them to heal and grow together again. kade has SO MUCH damage and it's so nerve-wracking (also lowkey exciting) to dive into it. she deserves the world. next chapter,, we get a brutal flashback of The Incident!!!
what are you thoughts, theories, comments about this chapter? i'm dying to hear it!!
side note: in case you don't know, i have another topgun story that centers on my oc who is maverick's daughter, grace, and since i'm in love with both of my baby oc's and their relationships with their dads, i created this:
it's true and someone needed to say it.