Fly High and Go Far

ROOSTER-Chapter Twelve: Homecoming

The two hid behind a rock, staring out at the fire and rubble that was enemy territory at once.  Rooster looked at Sammy and then back out at the despair, confused as to what Sammy had in mind.  She stared, squinting, at any unharmed hangars before pointing.

  "There."  Rooster looked in the direction Sammy was talking about and saw an unharmed jet.  His brow furrowed and then looked at his girlfriend.

  "An F-14.  Can you pilot an F-14?"

  "We'll find out, now won't we? It's the father of the Hornet, and I remember my dad taking me on a tour when I was ten," Sammy stood up and began walking towards it, trying to hold her composure.  She stared dead ahead as Rooster caught up.  She patting his back and began to run towards it. They reached the hangar getting unnoticed by enemy personnel, walking up to the plane and the control panel.

  "You were ten? Sammy, that was almost twenty years ago," Rooster asked, looking at it.

  "Yeah, and? I feel like I can manage," Sammy replied, looking over everything, trying to remember how to start one. 

  "When you said you had big shoes to fill, I don't think anyone meant literally. I mean, piloting a plane that was retired over fifteen years ago? Specifically the one your dad flew," Rooster stared at the controls with Sammy.  She twisted a knob and got everything up and running.

  "Okay, when that hits the green," she pointed to a needle in a gauge.  "I need you to unplug this.  Stow away my ladder when I'm up, and then pull all the remove before flight pins.  Do you got that?"

  "Yeah, I got it," he smiled.  "You better know what you're doing, baby girl." Rooster gave Sammy one last kiss before doing what she said.  Sammy got into the cockpit and stared at everything, turning the plane on.  It started right up and Sammy exclaimed.  She watched Rooster run around before hopping onto the wing and sitting down in the backseat.

  "How old is this monster?" He looked at everything, tapping the screen.

  "These got retired in 2006 if that helps any," Sammy replied, turning her instruments on.  "Close the canopy."  Rooster did so and then felt his hand around in the back.

  "There are so many fucking breakers? For what?" He exclaimed.  Sammy drove the plane onto the taxiway and looked at the destroyed runways.

  "Find the main one on the bottom and flip it," Sammy spoke up, remembering her father talking about how the breakers liked to go on his plane.  "Say," she piped up.  "How long do you think this taxiway is?" She asked.  Rooster looked up ahead and stared concerned at what Sammy wanted to do.

  "Shorter than a carrier with no steam-powered cables to help you get off at a high enough speed," Rooster answered.  Sammy looked around at her controls and saw one with a small picture of the jet with arrows around the wings.  She fiddled with it and watched the wings go out.

  "How much room do I have behind me?" She asked.  Rooster looked behind and saw rubble.

  "I don't know, maybe ten feet?"

  "Ten feet is good enough for me," she said, backing up, Rooster watching intently.  "Hold on, Bradshaw."  He stared at his girlfriend and then at the taxiway.

  "Sam, this is a taxiway.  It is also very short," he remarked. "Did you miss it when I said this is shorter than a carrier's runway?"

  "I know," she replied, gunning the throttles. "There are smaller and lighter than the Hornet so I should be able to get this off the ground." The plane jerked forward and she watched the taxiway and the knots on her gauge slowly increasing.