Mayhem || B. Bradshaw

Chapter 7

     "HARVARD, YALE, TALK TO ME," Lizbeth said through the comms, watching her radar show up empty. Her head whipped around, looking for signs of Maverick on her tail or above her.

     "Radar picks up nothing, he's behind us," Harvard said. "Yale, check the sight."

     Suddenly, realization dawned on Lizbeth, and her eyes widened as she impulsively took a sharp left. "Break right, Harvard! Break right! He's under us!"

     Just a moment after their move, Maverick flew up between where they had once been, and Lizbeth gritted her teeth in concentration as she flew to the left.

     "Good call, Mayhem. It seems like you've encountered this before." Maverick commented. "Let's see if you can endure what else I have in store for you."

     "Tally, Mayhem!" Yale shouted through his microphone. "He's up, twelve o'clock!"

     Her radar picked up on Maverick's plane, and she took a hard right to see him singling in on Harvard and Yale.

     "Break left, break left! Maverick's on your tail!" Lizbeth turned her F-18 around, doing the spinning maneuver to speed up her change of course.

     "Breaking left!" Harvard and Yale escaped Maverick's claws just by a second, but he was still aiming at them.

     "Aren't you going to defend your wingman, Mayhem?" Maverick asked through the comms.

     Then Lizbeth suddenly thought of an idea. She hadn't tried it herself, but seen it in practice from a video shown during her days at Top Gun.

     "Coming up, Relic, just you wait."

     She pushed her left console forward, increasing her speed and flew straight downwards, pulling up moments before hitting the hard deck, with Maverick in her aim.

     "Keep it going, Harvard! I've got him on aim!" Lizbeth felt the G's increase on her body, the count passing four, doing her best to ignore the anxiety increasing at the memory of the last time she'd pulled over eight G's.

     "Hurry up, Mayhem!" Harvard said through gritted teeth in her ear.

     She clenched her yaw, feeling the sweat break out on her forehead, but kept going, coming closer and closer to Maverick, his aircraft nearing her sight point.

     "Break right, Harvard, you've got him abeam nine now!" She called, and he followed his order, bringing Maverick with him. And in that moment, she almost had him aligned, but passed him with no luck as she pulled up further in the sky.

     "Darn it, I missed!"

     She groaned with irritation, before diving down again, set on saving Harvard and Yale from dying after her failed attempt.

     "The Wronski, Mayhem?" Maverick asked, chuckling. "Haven't seen that one in a while. Too bad for you, I was the one who invented it."

     Of course he was, Lizbeth huffed irritatedly, though through her gritted teeth and tense body, it sounded more like a growl.

     The fight went on for a couple of more minutes, with Lizbeth breaking Maverick's sight of Harvard and him finding them again. Then it was Lizbeth's moment of being in the limelight, but she managed to pull it out and turn it around.

     In the end, Harvard and Yale were shot down, and Lizbeth had to fly back with them in sore defeat.

     "I'll have to say though; Mayhem, Yale and Harvard have currently managed to drag out the fight the longest, with eight minutes worth of air-to-air combat before being shot down. Harvard and Yale, you're up for push-ups." Maverick had the delight of informing them through the radio.

     "Got it, Captain," Harvard answered, clearly displeased with the result.

     Lizbeth stepped out of her aircraft to be met with the sight of Phoenix, Bob and Hangman walking onto the Tarmac.

     "You pulled a Wronski, May?" Phoenix asked, lifting her eyebrows impressed as she gave Lizbeth a high five. "Nice!"

     "Thanks. I failed it though," Lizbeth pursed her lips, bobbing her head.

     "But you've pulled the longest fight this far," Bob added in, nodding in approval.

     "Don't expect that to last any longer," Hangman appeared behind them, holding his helmet under his arm. He gave Lizbeth a cocky wink, "I'll give the old man a setback."

     Lizbeth rolled her eyes, and as she was about to leave, she leaned in and whispered in Phoenix's ear, "Watch your back with him. You know how he is."

     "Copy," Phoenix nodded, determination set on her face as she watched Lizbeth retreat to the Gallery, passing Harvard and Yale with an apologetic look.

     "Sorry, boys, I tried my best," she said, receiving only grunts and groans as Hondo ordered them to do their push ups.

     As soon as she stepped inside the Gallery, she took her usual spot by the counter, listening to the sounds of Phoenix, Bob and Hangman taking off outside.

     "Nice pull, Liz," Bradley's voice made her stop in her tracks, and the nickname made unwanted butterflies swirl inside of her, but she continued to look forward.

     "Thanks, Rooster," she acknowledged him with a nod. But no one had prepared her for the friendly pat he gave her shoulder, which made her breath falter.

     It hadn't even been skin to skin, and yet it felt like her whole shoulder was on fire, burning to ashes under his touch.

     Pull yourself together, Mayhem. Don't let him mess with you like that.

     "Say, Phoenix," Hangman's voice through the radio was a much wanted distraction, and for the first time in her life, Lizbeth felt relieved to hear him talk. "And how's about we tell everybody 'Bob' stands for something? Other than Robert."

     Lizbeth didn't feel relieved anymore and muttered, "Don't fall for it, Bob."

     "Don't take the bait, Bob," Phoenix said simultaneously as Lizbeth. "Want to know why we call him Hangman?"

     "Oh, wait, I got it." Hangman's voice interrupted Phoenix. "Baby On Board."

     "You gotta be kidding me," Lizbeth sighed, massaging her temples as Hangman laughed. He was truly obnoxious.

     Hangman suddenly exclaimed, and Lizbeth could only presume that it had been Maverick surprising them, as he always did.

     "Greetings, aviators." Maverick said, and Lizbeth could hear his grin. "Fight's on."

     "All right, Phoenix," Hangman said with determination. "Let's take this guy out!"

     "Watch your back, Phoenix," Bradley muttered from beside Lizbeth, and she couldn't help but nod to his words.

     "I've already warned her," Lizbeth said, not meeting Bradley's eyes. "Hope she follows through."

     "Well, she's one for orders," he answered back, and Lizbeth could feel his eyes on her. Still, she didn't meet them. "Unlike someone else I know."

     "What's the fun in consistency?" Lizbeth smirked, and for the first time let her eyes meet Bradley's. She fought the blush growing on her cheeks as her heartbeat sped up under his gaze. "But you know all about that, don't you, Sunshine?"

     "I thought we agreed on not using that nickname again?" Bradley huffed, though Lizbeth didn't miss the corners of his mouth stretching.

     "But roosters always wake everyone up in the morning," she laughed, leaning sideways against the counter. "Just like–"

     "The sunshine, I know," Bradley interrupted her, a tiny chuckle escaping his lips, though it slowly died down. Silence passed between them, and Lizbeth sighed, diverting her eyes once again.

     "Liz, I–"