Mayhem || B. Bradshaw

Chapter 8

     "WHERE'S HE GOING?" Bob's voice interrupted Bradley from continuing, and pulled Lizbeth's attention back to the action happening through the radio.

     "That's why we call him Hangman." Lizbeth could hear that Phoenix was agitated, and for good reason too. She knew from experience what a nightmare it was to fly with Hangman. "He'll always hang you out to dry."

     "Welcome," Lizbeth muttered in a terrible British accent. "To Hangman's annual Hunger Games. May the odds be ever in your favor." Bradley snorted.

     "Leaving your wingman," Maverick's voice seemed to stiffen Bradley's posture, and Lizbeth bit her lip at his discomfort. She couldn't help it, no matter how much she tried to ignore him. She'd always have a weak spot for him. "There's a strategy I haven't seen in a while."

     "He called you a man, Phoenix," Hangman said. "You gonna take that?"

     "So long as he doesn't call you a man," Phoenix sent back, and Lizbeth let out a laugh. A proud grin spread across her lips. She was certain that Phoenix could manage to take out Maverick, and show Hangman who's the real deal, if she only stayed focused.

     "Talk to me, Bob, where's Maverick?" Phoenix called out.

     "His nose is already coming around!" Bob shot back.

     "Get him off me, Hangman!" Phoenix tried, but Lizbeth knew that there was no point. Hangman didn't always feel the need to save his bait.

     "For all you folks at home," he began, "this is how you bury a fossil."

     "Is it bad that I want Maverick to shoot him down?" Lizbeth muttered, which earned a snort from Bradley.

     "You voiced my thoughts, Mayhem," he answered, but Lizbeth couldn't help but notice how he used her callsign. He never used her callsign except in the air. That was more her style. She let her gaze momentarily shift towards him. Did I say something?

     "All right, Hangman." Maverick said. "Time to teach you a lesson."

     The beep of Maverick having perfect aim sounded through the radio, followed by his declaration that Phoenix and Bob were out.

     "Hangman's gonna hear it when she comes down," Lizbeth sighed and rested her head on top of her hands. Her assumptions had been wrong. Now she just hoped that Hangman wouldn't manage to take out Maverick, because if he did, he would be unbearably cocky.

     "I'm counting on it," Bradley nodded, though he sounded a bit off.

      Lizbeth turned her head, and let her eyes take in a glimpse of his face. Though, she scolded her thumping heart as the view of Bradley's flexed jaw was burned into her mind, and the sight of his intense stare on the radio made her retract her peek, keeping her flushing face out of his sight.

     What's going on with you, Mayhem?

     Lizbeth fiddled with the hem of her uniform as she tried to calm herself, shifting her focus over to the continuing battle over the radio. Don't let him get to you, May. You'll only hurt yourself.

     "That's it," Maverick seemed even more fueled than before, his voice full of determination as it crackled through the transmitter.

     "Let's go, Mav," Hangman said arrogantly, his self-esteem overruling the small part of his brain that spoke common sense. "Let's see what you got."

     The use of Maverick's nickname once again reminded Lizbeth of the fact that her instructor could be her father, and she fell back into biting her lip, her pointy finger tapping the counter nervously.

     How could she find out for sure if he was her father? He had pronounced her last name right, which could be a lead to the fact that he knew her mother, or he could've just spoken to someone else with the same last name.

     Lizbeth tried to imagine his face, scourging it for similarities, some kind of sign that they could be related, but she wasn't able to see him clearly. She hadn't met him enough times to be able to form an image of him in her mind.

     "Phoenix, I can't see him," Hangman's voice brought her partly back to reality. Lizbeth heard a small tint of desperation in his voice, and she tried to relish in it, even if that sounded cruel. It wasn't often that Hangman was desperate, and she was going to savor every moment of it. "How close am I? Phoenix?"

     "I'm dead, dickhead," Phoenix answered.

     "See you in the afterlife, Bagman," Bob added, which made Lizbeth snort.

     "I knew I liked him," she grinned, as Hangman seemed to be searching for Maverick. Though, she didn't notice Bradley tensing at her words.

     The death beep silenced the Gallery for a second, and Lizbeth let a triumphant grin erupt on her face for a small second, hoping no one noticed. It wasn't exactly common to hope for your teammate to hypothetically get shot down during practice.

     "That's a kill," Maverick declared.

     The rest of the exercise resulted in an increasing amount of push-ups for the aviators, while Maverick shot down one team after the other. Everyone seemed to realize the reason they got Maverick as an instructor.

     He was clearly a level above all of them.

     Even Lizbeth struggled to bring him down when she was in the air, though she did renew her record from eight to ten minutes with Omaha and Halo.

     She didn't try the Wronski again, though she used her time in-between dogfighting to remember all the tips and tricks she had gotten through Top Gun seven years earlier.

     The Piper, her trademark move, didn't even work on him, which was truly unusual. Normally, her unpredictable directions, inverted flying, close turns and sudden stops threw her opponents off and confused them to the bridge of mayhem, but Maverick saw through her pulls.

     The last batch of the day was Hangman and Rooster, and Lizbeth sat by the counter with Phoenix, her arms like jelly after her last round of push-ups.

     "So, Rooster," Hangman's voice crackled through the radio. "Mind if I ask you a personal question?"

     Lizbeth closed her eyes, and sighed. Here it comes.

     "Would it matter if I did?" Bradley answered, though Lizbeth could hear his attempts at playing Hangman off.

     "So, what's the story with you and Maverick? It seems like he's got you rattled."

     Lizbeth bit her lip. The whole room seemed to turn silent at Hangman's words, and she tried to not look like she knew the whole ordeal, to spare herself from questions.

     "That's none of your business," Bradley answered, but the tension in his voice was clear as day.

     "Funny," Hangman said. "Mayhem answered something of the same."

     So much for not being involved. Lizbeth ignored all the eyes trained on her.

     "Drop it, Hangman," Bradley warned, and his tone implied that he wasn't kidding. "Now, where is he?"

     "Been here the whole time," Maverick said, and while Lizbeth couldn't see what was going on, it must've been impressive, because Hangman seemed close to speechless. "You see me now? Come on, let's get it over with."

     The sound of Bradley breathing heavily made Lizbeth purse her lips.

     "Fight's on!"