𝐔𝐍𝐁𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒 | 𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐋𝐄𝐘 "𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑" 𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐖

𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐃𝐀𝐘

✈︎𝐑 𝐄 𝐁 𝐄 𝐂 𝐂 𝐀

"Attention on deck!"

I stand tall among the elite group of pilots, my determination etched on my face, at least I hope it is. The room hums with a mixture of anticipation and nerves as Commander Anderson, a seasoned instructor, addresses the assembled pilots.

"Welcome to Top Gun, ladies and gentlemen." He's a tall, dark skinned, man, he looks wise beyond his years. "You are the best of the best, chosen to embark on an intense mission that will push your limits as aviators." I arrived right on time, I didn't even get a chance to look around at my fellow pilots. "Stand up, state your name, and share an interesting fact about yourself." What is this kindergarten? "We'll go in alphabetical order."

I hear a voice from across the room speak up. "Elliott Abbott, call sign "T-Dub." Because I got two T's in my first and last name." I feel like that math ain't mathin. "I'm from New Hampshire and I just got hitched." I glance over my shoulder and see him showing off his wedding band.

Commander Anderson nods his head. "Congratulations— T-Dub." He looks to me next.

I sigh and stand up. "Name's Becca Benjamin, call sign undetermined." I hear someone faintly whisper. "Fun fact about me? Well, I once aced a simulated dogfight exercise against three opponents with my eyes closed. They called it the "Blind Bombshell Maneuver."

A ripple of intrigue spreads through the room, which surprises me and gives me a surge of confidence. Commander Anderson nods approvingly. "Impressive, Benjamin. It's clear you've got some serious talent. Take your seat." I plop back down into my seat, a mix of excitement and determination coursing through my veins. "Next?"

"I'm Bradley Bradshaw, call sign "Rooster." My eyes about fly out of my head when I hear the name. Bradley Bradshaw, as in my Dad's dead best friend's son. Unless there is another Bradley Bradshaw out there. Dang it! I missed his interesting factoid about himself.

I want to look at him but he's right behind me. Shoot, will he recognize me? We spent a lot of time together as kids. No, he definitely won't. I haven't seen him since his mom passed away, even then he didn't recognize me at the funeral. Either way I'm basically unrecognizable. By that I mean I've gotten blonde highlights, grown a few inches, and I strictly go by Becca. We start nearing the end of introductions, I'm ready to get out of here and into the sky.

"I'm Jake Seresin." I look to my left. A tall guy stands from his seat, a smirk dances on his lips. "Call sign, Hangman for reasons you will soon find out. Fun fact about me, I'm going to destroy every single one of you."

Anderson nods, giving him a surprised smile. "You seem very self assured, Hangman."

"Or cocky." I mumble.

"Not cocky, BB." I grimace at the awful nickname Jake Seresin has bestowed upon me. "Just confident in my skills."

He is going to be a pain.

"Okay!" A dark haired woman stands up from beside him and clasps her hands together. "I'm Natasha Trace. Call Sign, Phoenix. Fun fact about me, not from Arizona." She says before plopping back into her seat. She seems cool.

Commander Anderson stands at the front, a projector screen displaying the training agenda behind him.
"Alright, ladies and gentlemen, let's dive into the training agenda for the next phase of Top Gun. As you all know, effective teamwork is paramount in the skies. You'll be paired up with a back-seater, someone who will play a crucial role in your success." Commander Anderson gestures toward the projected agenda, detailing the upcoming exercises and simulations.

"For our exercise, we'll be focusing on aerial combat scenarios, testing your coordination, communication, and tactical decision-making. Pilots! You will be paired with a weapons systems operator, forming a cohesive unit." I fiddle my fingers as I await his next sentence.

"Bradshaw, as our highest-scoring pilot, you'll be paired with Benjamin." Lovely. You know what, this is fine. This partnership presents an opportunity to prove myself as a skilled and reliable back-seater. "Your success will depend on your ability to work together seamlessly, leveraging each other's strengths."

I glance behind me, we exchange a quick nod, understanding the weight of the responsibility placed upon us.

Wait a minute!

I look back at him once more to make sure it's who I think it is.

Anderson claps, getting my attention. "Throughout this training, we'll be simulating various combat scenarios, conducting live-fire exercises, and honing your ability to function as a cohesive unit. Remember, your performance in the air will be a direct reflection of your teamwork and decision-making skills." We listen attentively. "That's the overview, pilots. Now onto your first mission."

I lean forward ready to hear what he's got for us. "Go out tonight and have fun." He smiles, making each and every one of us give him a confused look. "Oh don't give me that look! It's Independence Day weekend and you thought that we were going to make you guys work." He laughs loudly. "We've got a table for you guys at Rhythm & Racks. After tonight you will need to prepare yourselves mentally and physically, as the days ahead will demand nothing less than your best."

With a final glance at the training agenda, Commander Anderson dismisses us. I get up and we all file out into the hallway, I turn to ask a question but I'm interrupted by an unexpected collision. I look up at the chest, slightly annoyed, and huff when I see it's Bradshaw. He has a playful yet reproachful look on his stupid face.

"Seriously, Bradshaw? Can't you watch where you're going?" I growl.

He holds his hands up and says apologetically, "I'm sorry—" He looks at my name tag as if he can't remember my name. "—Benjamin. I didn't mean to run into you. It's just... You know I have this uncanny ability to find myself in these situations, apparently."

"Trouble in paradise already?" I turn to see Jake, along with a few other pilots. "It's the first day guys. Come on."

"Do people call you Hangman because they want to hang themselves every time you open your mouth?" I retort, crossing my arms.

"Ooo sassy. I like that in a woman." He puts an arm around my shoulders.

"You wish, Barbie." I elbow him in the ribs.

He hissed dramatically. "Dang Rooster. You've got a feisty one on your hands."

"Less talking, more walking. I want some grub." Natasha snaps as she starts leading the boys down the hall.

"On one condition." I glance at a pilot, Matt Harding, call sign, Softie. Probably because he is a literal cinnamon roll in human form. "We go somewhere else. R&R has a trash jukebox."

"Fine. Any suggestions?" Natasha asks.

I hesitate for a moment, considering my words carefully before speaking up. "My mom owns a bar not too far from here called "The Hard Deck."

"Is it good?" T-Dub (I can't get over that call sign) asks.

"Penny's place? Oh yeah!" Matt smiles. "It's a favorite among us local pilots, and I believe it offers a more authentic experience."

"This kid from the suburbs or something?" Bradley mumbles but I laugh when I hear it.

"As long as it has beer, I'm down." Jake says, now leading the way down the hall.

"You guys go ahead. We'll meet you there." Javy "Coyote" Machado smirks at Jake before running ahead of him.