They Call Me the Coroner | Top Gun: Maverick

It's So Cold

"Hey, Coroner?"

Hangman's voice comes over the radio, struggled and gasping.

We are in the canyon, taking the same route as Maverick and Rooster. My plane jolts under under me as I make the tight turns. I cough and heave in breaths as my lungs deplete of oxygen way faster than I want them to.

"What's up?"

Jake tries for my attention again.

"You know, being a pilot, flying towards doom instead of away from it. What about you?" I smirk under my mask.

"Wondering about 'Tilted Lanes.' You knew that place was jacked up, right?"

I let a little laugh escape my lips. "That's why I picked it."

"Yeah, we all did."

I furrow my brows and look down at my radar, his little blip on my screen blinking away behind me.

"What? None of you acted like it."

"Well, you'd been kinda...you know...for the past couple of weeks. We just wanted to do something for you. If pretending not to know about that alley was it, then we'd do it."

Man. I'm loved by more people than I realized.

We come over Coffin Corner.

"Tesha! On our six. Bogey inbound!"

I glance back and break right while Hangman breaks left. The black jet pierces the air right between us and jerks it's nose up, inverting to turn around and then righting itself.

"Hang tight! I got this."

"Hangman! Don't-"

Dang! If he would stop thinking that he can do things by himself!

"Have you not learned anything from training?" I bark.

Another plane comes from behind Hangman when he tries to get a lock on the first. I pull in perpendicular to the line of traffic and fire my guns at the second plane.

It's down the next second.

"Thanks, Babe!"

I watch two more planes slicing through the clouds, heading right for us. I grip my centre stick and take in a deep breath.

No breaking. No panicking. No Marty. No Greg. No one. Nothing.

Don't think.

"You know, Hangman. I'd address that nickname if we weren't in deep crap right now." I pull up and let the first of the planes pass me.

Then I dive down on the second, shooting my guns straight at the hood of the plane. It blows up and my nose kisses the debris as I fly down.

I've got damage on my nose. It's bad enough to blare warnings in my ears. I can still fly, but pretty soon I'll barely have my wings in the air.

"Well, since we were fighting for our lives, I figured you might not mind too much. Apparently, I was mistaken."