Cyclone stepped up to the podium. "Captain Mitchell is no longer your instructor. And as of today, there are new mission parameters. Time to target is now four minutes." Behind him, the timer beeped and changed from two and a half minutes to four. "You'll be entering the valet level at reduced speed. You're not to exceed 420 knots."
Jake turned to Coyote, who now sat in Brandi's seat beside him. Jake couldn't believe what he was hearing. Not only was this mission now made for babies, but such a reduced speed would get them killed.
Bob didn't hesitate to voice this. "Sir, won't we be giving their planes time to intercept?"
"Well, Lieutenant, you have a fighting chance against enemy aircraft. What are the odds of surviving a head-on collision with a mountain? You will be attacking the target from a higher altitude, level with the north wall. Gonna be a little harder to keep your lase on target, but you will avoid the high-G climb out.
Jake could laugh. A little? They could barely get it on target when flying at a low altitude.
"We'll be sitting ducks for enemy missiles," muttered Fanboy.
The monitor then beeped, catching everyone's attention. On the course map, a blue line trailed its way down to the valley. The icon of a fighter blinked and suddenly there were two.
"Who the hell is that?" Cyclone questioned, partially blocking their view.
"Maverick to Range Control. Entering Point Alpha."
Jake huffed, of course, it was the old-timer. So who was crazy enough to pilot the other plane?
"Right Hook to Range Control. Confirm green range."
He sat forward and glanced back at Rooster. The dirty blonde stared intensely at the monitor and spared him a look for half a second, shrugging. Both of them could understand Maverick's reckless behavior, but Brandi going against orders? What the hell was she planning?
"Maverick, Right Hook, the green range is confirmed," the man from Range Control said hesitantly. "I don't see an event scheduled for either of you."
"Well, we're going anyways," responded Maverick, nonchalantly. "Setting time to target: two minutes, fifteen seconds."
Payback shook his head. "2:15? That's impossible." He wasn't wrong, especially with a wingman, but this was Maverick and Hooker, they always managed to beat the odds.
"Final attack point. Maverick and Hooker's inbound. You ready to turn and burn, Hooker?"
"You bet your ass. Let's go!"
Something had changed in Brandi from the last Jake saw her. Brandi's voice was raw with determination instead of from crying. It pieced him somewhere deep and he sat closer to the edge of his seat, arms resting on his knees as he watched the two icons shoot off along the valley. With each sharp turn, his heart jolted. He would have enjoyed the spectacle had it been just Maverick. But the person he cared most about and revered above himself was out there too. Jake couldn't help but wonder if Bradshaw was experiencing the same odd anxiety.
"Hooker, you keeping up?" Mav huffed.
"If not for the SAMs, I would have passed you long ago, old man."
Jake smirked, she wasn't lying, she was right on his tail. Her comment seemed to get under Mav's skin for his speed was gradually picking up. The clock was now at a minute thirty and they were only halfway to the target - could they pull it off?
At forty seconds, the two breached the first mountain, popping up seamlessly. Maverick was almost on top of the target, everyone was starting to stand from their seats. He got a lock and dropped the first set of bombs, immediately popping up again. The bombs made their mark. Miracle number one is complete.
Six seconds left. Jake was stiff, bitting his cheek in anticipation, terrified that one or both might go into G-LOC. They were pushing 9.5 Gs now.
Through the stirred-up dust, Brandi got a lock. It found its mark, destroying the target. That was miracle number two. The timer stopped. Point 16 seconds to space. The room erupted into cheers.
"Bull's eye Holy shit!" gasped Bob, jumping from his chair.
Jake let the breath he was holding go. 10 Gs. That's how far the two idiots had pushed their crafts and themselves. "Damn," was all he could say.
~~~~~
Brandi landed and popped open the canopy. Removing her helmet, she breathed in the fresh air and smiled at the polaroid of her and Iceman, smiling. She couldn't believe she just completed the course. "I did it, dad. I show 'em." Now the real question was: could she do it again? Can she do it again? Surely there'll be reparations for stealing a government-issued aircraft.
"Mitchell! Kanzansky!" Marching across the tarmac, Cyclone glared at them. He paused just feet away. "My office. Now."
Brandi grimaced. Looking at Maverick, he shrugged and climbed out of his plane.
"Feels like I'm being sent to the principal's," she grumbled, meeting up with him, knuckles white from the vice grip she had on her helmet.
"Principal suits him better than Admiral anyways," Maverick joked.
In Cylcone's office, she stared ahead, standing no-so at ease between Maverick and Warlock. At that moment, the Admiral was addressing her uncle.
"You have put me in a difficult position, captain. On one hand, you have demonstrated that this mission can be flown. Perhaps the only way it can be survived. On the other hand, you did it by stealing a multimillion-dollar military aircraft and flying it in such a manner that it may never be airworthy again. And on top of that, you roped in a student to fly with you. Iceman is no longer here to protect you-" he glanced over his shoulder, looking away from the rain-splattered window to meet Brandi's gaze. "-the both of you. I have everything I need to have you court-martialed and dishonorably discharged. So what do I do?"
Brandi couldn't control herself any longer. "Sir, Captain Mitchell was roped into this by me. The whole thing was my idea. But he wouldn't let me fly alone. Let me take the brunt of all this, Maverick was simply looking out for my best interest-"
"What would have been in your best interest was stopping the whole idea. I know you're distressed and not in the right state of mind due to your father passing-"
"This had nothing to do with my father." That was a lie if she ever heard one.
Cyclone seemed to think so too. "I should have you put under surveillance and psych-evaluated."
Brandi felt like she was slapped. "An e-val?"
"This is highly out of character for you, Kanzansky, not to mention you've been MIA the past two days without reason-"
"My dad just passed!"
"That's exactly my point." Cyclone sighed, "Yet, you're one of the best of your generation and flew the course perfectly. I'm torn. Do I write you up? Or do I keep you around as an advisor?"
The blonde took a small step forward. "Sir-"
"I think the Admiral's asking a rhetorical question, Lieutenant," said Warlock. He glanced at her, smirking.
