❝ 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 does he know . . .
. . . 𝐒𝐇𝐄 thinks about him too ❞
IN WHICH Cassidy "Firestarter" Brooke is called back to Top Gun alongside her closest friend, Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, to compete for...
' It's kind of cute but it's so short Then you're driving me home And I don't want to leave But I have to go '
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IT WAS IN the tense moments where the team slipped below the radar. The air was getting foggy as they neared the target site, making it a little bit more difficult to see near the snow-covered peaks. Cassidy hadn't felt nervousness like this in a long time, if she ever had been this terrified in her entire life. Her flight reaction told her to turn away and save herself, but she shoved it away, having learned long ago to do just that with any panicked and rash thoughts. Her aircraft was as close to the water as possible in order to avoid detection without causing spray to mar the dark blue expanse. But, she assumed, it was good that the fog was shielding them from whatever could be lurking in enemy territory. With that, she shoved her thoughts away, forcing herself to remain in the moment and react off instinct and training. Nothing else was going to get in the way, she told herself. Nothing was going to stop the mission from being a success. Alright. Let's do this shit. she thought as they came even closer to the opening of the valley. The thought was neither optimistic or pessimistic, but simply indifferent without the clamoring of panicked and far too calm thoughts invading her head space.
"Enemy territory up ahead, " Maverick said, his first words through the radio since taking off the carrier. "Entering in sixty seconds. Comanche, Dagger One. Picture." He was calling to Comanche for the Tomahawks. For the last call before there was no turning back. Just as with Cyclone's final decision. Cassidy knew that there wasn't a possibility of it being a negative command. They had done too much, sacrificed too much, and had no other option than to make the mission a success.
"Comanche. Picture clean; decision is yours," the woman controlling the radio for the larger plane that was situated somewhere above them said said. The purpose of the Comanche, Cassidy assumed, was to watch over the radar. Nothing and no one would be lost if they were allowed the time to react to whatever popped up on their radar, whether it be bandits or something else. What that something else could even be was something Cassidy didn't want to consider.
"Copy." A lengthy pause, a weighted decision. Cassidy waited in anticipation for the final answer. "Dagger attack." There it was. A go on the mission, and a confirmation that they were not turning back, no matter whatever was going to happen after that. She tucked away her anxieties and set her eyes forwards on the water and the land ahead of her. She didn't flinch, but forced herself to look straight on ahead. She didn't want to risk any side glances to the people in F-18s beside her. Just as Maverick had given the final order, there was a beat of silence. But, in a matter of seconds, the Tomahawk missiles raced overhead, skimming over the group of planes. There were far too many going too fast to even attempt at counting them. But as quickly as they had zipped overhead, they were gone, disappearing amongst the combination of the fog and the mountain peaks.
