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Here we go.
Adrenaline was already pumping through my veins, giving me a buzz not even alcohol could. I’d been flying for years now, and one thing I hadn’t expected when I first started out was that it never got old. The high of flying a jet was unlike anything I’d ever experienced in my life, and as I got the go-ahead to take off, I punched the engines and roared down the runway. My entire body vibrated as I increased the speed, more, more, and then the jet was airborne, soaring into the clear blue sky, not a cloud blocking the view.
My heart hammered in my chest, though I maintained the smooth control I always did when flying. Up ahead, I caught sight of Solo and continued the rise to thirty-one thousand feet, where he’d leveled out.
Play it straight for once in your life, Solo.
The mission that had been laid out in the brief today was straightforward and to the point. The commander wanted to see our basic fighter maneuvers and how we handled ourselves in a dogfight. This was something we practiced repeatedly. A midair showdown where we each tried to maneuver ourselves behind our opponent’s aircraft and intercept the perceived intruders in an attempt to drive them off course and leave the area.
If they didn't leave? Well, that was when you better pray that you knew what the hell you were doing up there.
The roar of the slipstream as I turned made my wings flex, and it was a sound I’d never grow tired of hearing. I moved into formation with Solo, around ten feet from where his jet was tearing up the sky. Then I checked my wing line and longitudinal references to make sure I was in position.
As his wingman today, it was my job to keep an eye on my lead at all times and make sure the wingtip to nose-tail separation was exact, to keep our flying safe. As lead, it was Solo’s job to delegate tasks within the flight to ensure the mission was safely accomplished.
I knew I’d do my part with the utmost diligence and responsibility, but as for Solo, who knew what stunt he’d pull.
“Panther, nice of you to finally join me up here today. Looking good on my six, over.”
If there was one thing I, and most other pilots, hated, it was a chatty Cathy over the comm. The term “zip up and shut up” didn’t come from men who wanted to have a full conversation in the sky. But somehow, Solo didn’t strike me as the type to give a shit about that one way or another.
Lucky me. “I’m in position and got you in sight. Let’s get this done.”
“Aww, what, no small talk?”
“I’m not here to entertain you, Solo. I’m here to win.”
“Can’t you do both?”
I was just about to tell Solo to shut his damn mouth and focus when Gucci’s plane appeared from out of nowhere and locked on to Solo's position. Then, just as it always happened up here, things went from intense to insane in a matter of seconds, as Solo shot off and began to climb, clearly about to implement some serious repositioning maneuvers.
I had no choice but to go with him, and the two of us punched our jets in gear and began one of the fastest, most extreme ascents known to man. We were on the straight-up vertical now, and the thunderous sound of air rushing by as we pulled some serious fucking Gs made my entire body vibrate and come alive.
The rush of living this close to the edge, the knowledge that you were doing something only a handful of men and women could physically and mentally do, took a high-octane mixture of ego and guts, fear and intelligence, and when Solo finally reached the pinnacle of his climb and banked left before executing a hard dive, I knew I was witnessing the ego and guts firsthand. Crazy motherfucker.
As Gucci followed suit, Solo began a series of high-speed turns and rolls, each one reactive to Gucci’s attempt to lock him in for the shot, but there was no way he was about to get a clear go at a plane executing the moves Solo was.
Keeping pace with my lead, I had to admit Solo was one hell of a pilot. He was fast, fearless, and precise, and today he was playing by the rules. It was obvious he was here for a reason, and as the two of us outmaneuvered and outpaced Gucci and Whiplash, we managed to get behind them and zero in on our targets for the kill.
Well, I’ll be damned—maybe this wouldn’t be the disaster I’d feared all along.
“Hell yes,” Solo called out through the comm as we won the first hop. “I told Gooch he wouldn’t beat me today. Not fucking today.”
