Beyond the Horizon | Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw

Part Six - Memory Lane

"Sir?" I ask Maverick, my brain runs through every possible reason why I could be asked to stay behind. "Is everything ok?" The door closes as the last of the aviators walk through.

"Yes, I just wanted to have a chat." He remains standing, just resting against a table at the front of the room. He gestures towards a seat behind me, indicating that I should sit down. I take a seat just in front of him, my hands folded across my lap. "When Cyclone and Warlock introduced me to this mission, they gave me a list of the Top Gun graduates they'd be inviting." I nod, wanting him to continue. "I recognized your name. Cortell."

I freeze.

"My father was in the Naval Academy in the 80s. You've probably heard of him," I rush to offer an explaination.

"Oh, I knew your father. I flew with him before he handed in his wings," Maverick offers me a sad but nostalgic smile. I suck in a rigid breath. My eye contact falters and I look off to the side of his head. "It's good to know that his story didn't stop you from getting where you are now."

"It wasn't easy." My head drops completely and I place my elbows on my knees. I don't know how proud of my story I should be. "My parents weren't exactly thrilled when I told them I wanted to be a fighter jet pilot."

"Why's that?"

"I don't know if you remember, but in and around the time when my father was a pilot in the Naval Academy, he had a son," Maverick nods slowly. I continue, "he wanted to be just as good a pilot as my dad was before he quit. With hesitation, they let him go. They kept a close eye on him as he breezed through flight school, then the Academy, hell, he even made it to Top Gun.

"The day before he was supposed to graduate, an engine malfunctioned in his plane and he lost control. He was yelling over the radio, desperate for a saving grace that would magically give him control again. Before he even had the chance to eject, he met face first with a mountain. He died on impact," I say slowly. My brother's story was never an easy one to tell. "Everything about it fueled my father's fear of advanced level flying. Leaving loved ones behind, parents having to bury their kid..." My voice is barely above a whisper, tears stinging my eyes and blurring my vision. 

"God, I had no idea. I'm so sorry." Maverick's voice is full of remorse.

"For some twisted reason, even my brother's death didn't stop me from wanting to fly. Something inside me said to force it into my parents' minds. I mean, God! We'd just lost my brother and I went and told my parents that I wanted to go into the exact same thing that got him dead? I don't know why I was surprised when they told me no. The told me it was a death wish, that I'd never make it. But each 'no' only fueled my motivation to do so anyways. I told them I would eventually join, with or without their approval, that I would be a naval aviator.

"A few years later, I secretly started training for flight school. I managed to finish early and got my license around 15. The day after that, I applied to the Naval Academy. I knew I was too young to apply, but I still wanted to give it a shot anyways. It was a pipe dream. Miraculously, I had been accepted. When I told my parents, they had no choice but to send me. They disproved of it in every way that they could, at every chance they got, but they still respected my ambitions. My COs told me that the only reason I got in was because of some 'guardian angel' that pushed for my application to be accepted. You know, besides all the rules it broke." Maverick chuckles lightly, enthused that he was in the company of another rule breaker. 

I keep going, "being surrounded by pilots who were older than me really intimidated me. Not to mention the fact that I could never get their respect because of my age. To my COs, I was easy to overlook. A little kid like me? Who cared? So I started to make risky choices. When we'd do exercises, I'd pull maneuvers that might've been too unsafe for what we were doing, I'd break the speed ceilings, I'd find other ways to fly exercises that would get me to the same goal just in different ways. I never stopped working and pushing myself to get better and to stand out. When I did eventually catch the attention of my COs..." I pause, smiling reminiscently, "God, did it feel good. And that's where I got my callsign. Dice. Making dicey choices became my thing.