The Bradshaws: A TopGun Maverick Story

~EIGHT~

[Indistinct radio chatter]
[Engines powering up]
[Helicopter whirring]

Maverick moved down the line, stopping first in front of Danny.

"Danny," he said quietly, looking him square in the eyes. "You've got the lead because you earned it. Trust yourself. Trust your team. You've got what it takes." He squeezed Danny's shoulder firmly. "Bring them home."

Danny nodded, jaw tight but eyes steady. "Yes, sir."

Maverick turned next to Brandy, who stood ready, helmet tucked under her arm. She tried to hide the weight of what she was about to do, but Maverick saw it.

"Brandy," he said softly, his voice low so only she could hear. "What you're doing... it takes guts. More than most will ever know. Don't think about the risk—think about why you're up there. Think about your brothers, your team. You've got the heart for this."

Her eyes glistened for just a second before she forced a smile. "I won't let them down."

Finally, Maverick stepped to Rooster. He paused, studying the young man who carried so much of Goose in him.

"Bradley," he said, the name carrying a weight only the two of them understood. "You've been waiting your whole life for this moment. You've got the skill. You've got the fight. And no matter what happens up there, your dad would be proud of you."

Rooster swallowed hard, his voice tight. "Thank you, Mav."

Maverick nodded, stepping back to look at all three siblings together. "Bradshaws," he said with the faintest smile, "make this one count."

The Bradshaw siblings exchanged one last look with each other before climbing into their cockpits. No words left to say—only the mission ahead.

The comms crackled to life. "Dagger One, up and ready on catapult one."
"Dagger Spare standing by."
"Dagger Four, up and ready."
"Dagger Three, up and ready."
"Dagger Two, up and ready."

"Support assets airborne. Strike package ready. Standing by for launch decision."

A beat of silence. Then—"Send them."

"Dagger Two away. Dagger Three away. Dagger Four away."

The radar beeped steadily in the background.
"Comanche 11, set. Picture clean. Recommend Dagger continue."

"Copy. Daggers descending below radar."

Breathing came fast over comms. The radar beeped again—then stopped.
"Daggers now below radar. Switching to E-2 picture."

Danny's voice cut through, calm but steady. "Here we go. Enemy territory up ahead. Feet dry in sixty seconds. Comanche, Dagger One. Picture."

"Comanche. Picture clean. Decision is yours."

"Copy." Danny drew in a deep breath. "Dagger attack."

"Tomahawks airborne."

Brandy's voice broke in, even and steady despite her role being the riskiest of all. "No turning back now."

"Daggers, assume attack formation."

"Daggers set. Proceeding to target."

"Two minutes and thirty seconds in three, two, one—Mark."

"Two Mark."
"Three Mark."
"Four Mark."

Danny exhaled. "Going in."

Engines shrieked as they pushed forward. "First SAM site overhead."

Rooster's voice snapped in. "Looks like we're clear on radar, Danny."

"Let's not take it for granted."