Siren In The Sky // Bradley Bradshaw

Chapter 15

"This is your final test." 

All of us stand at attention in a line as Cyclone walks up and down the row. My nerves are shot with adrenaline.

"The last 13 weeks you have pushed yourselves to your breaking point, and then some. You've grown. As pilots, as people. It all comes down to this. Tied for first: Hangman and Siren. Second place Rooster. Third: Pheonix."

I'm fired up beyond belief. Tied for first. I can do this. Striker and I will be on that plaque. I will do what my father couldn't ever do. 

"Good luck."

We all silently make our way to our planes, everyone focused on the final task. With helmet in hand I step up on the latter. "Hey Siren," Hangman calls. "May the best pilot win." With a curt nod in his direction I climb up. It's now or never. 

I take a deep breath once in the air. Focus. This is mine for the taking.

"Voodoo one voodoo one 090 radar contact 15 miles doing 500 knots."

"Roger Striker. Moving air speed to 600 knots."

Exhileration surges through me as soon as I see the mig. I think it's Jester, but I'm not sure. Whoever it is I can't make a mistake. "He's dead ahead. Let's make quick work of this Siren." A smirk falls on my face. "copy that."

As soon as we're on his tail he immediately goes into defense mode. Breaking hard right I follow, making sure he doesn't get an advantage. There's no mountains to fly around this time. All that surrounds us is open air and the sea below. Sweat stings my eyes while it rolls down my face. My arms are training from being tense for so long. We fly with our entire soul, aggressive twists and turns. A true dogfight. 

He starts going upward, climbing further into the sky. This is my chance. I try to get him in my sights but there's something wrong with the missle lock. "Get him Siren! What are you doing?" Striker yells through the comms. "There's something wrong with the lock. Give me 20 seconds." 

I swallow down the panic and stay cool. 10 seconds later an alarm sounds. 

"YES WE FUCKING DID IT! WE FUCKING DID IT."  Striker cheers at the top of her lungs. "We did it." I mutter. I'm in disbelief. I've always wanted this. I've worked my whole life for it. Part of me believed I'd never make it though. Levelling out and heading back to base I try to keep a level head. "Calm down Strike, we still have to see how Hangman does."

**************************************

Hangman made a mistake. The two of us had anxiously listened to the radio during his run. He ultimately got the mig, however he lost control for a moment and almost compromised himself costing him points. Now at graduation, dressed in our white uniform, Striker and I are being handed the trophy. First place. It doesn't feel real. I've imagined it so many times in my head. 

Everyone's families came, congratulating them. A small smile rests on my face as I watch Striker hug her parents and little brother. An arm is slung over my shoulder. I peer up at Bradley. His eyes are trained on Striker's family too. I realize that I'm not the only one without anyone here. Bradley's mom passed only about a year after mine did. 

"I say we go celebrate. Everyone else is going out with their families. Let's get deliriously drunk together," I say with a sweet smile. He gives me a cheeky grin. "You read my mind." 

We decide to go to the beach. I head home to change and stop to get some booze, as one does, before meeting him. When I arrive it's almost sunset. Bradley is sprawled on a towel in the sand staring at the sky. He looks like an angel in the golden hour, and I curse him for it. We haven't talked about what's going to happen now that Top Gun is over. I still don't know if him saying that he loved me was a dream or not, but do I hope its real.