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Panther’s father.
“Not again,” Panther said under his breath, as our competition lined up along the front of the room and Levy came around the end with two glass bowls filled with folded slips of paper.
“Ladies and gentlemen, these are some of the finest pilots ever to go through this program. Beat them, and you’re well on your way to the top of this class. You’ll be paired by random drawing to make this as fair as possible. Good luck.”
As Levy took a slip out of each bowl, I clicked my pen and leaned in toward Panther. “Permission to take your father down if I draw him?”
Panther let out a low chuckle. “Permission granted.”
“Solo,” Levy said, reading my name off the slip of paper. “You’ll be up against Commander Heinz.”
I looked over to the female instructor, and as our eyes met, I smirked, hoping to psych her out. No problem.
“I look forward to it,” I said.
One by one, Levy called out the pair-ups, and when Panther’s turn came around, I realized his partner options were down to two. Levy himself—and after the disaster that had happened last time, the last thing Panther needed was that reminder—and Panther’s daddy-o.
Shit. Maybe they’d let me trade Heinz for a go at one of those two, because neither seemed like a good option for Panther. He’d finally gotten back into the groove of things; how the hell would they make him go up against either of those men?
“Well, well, well,” Levy said, looking down at the slips of paper he held in his hands. “This is a first. It looks like we’ll have a match between Lieutenant Hughes and Captain Hughes.”
A low murmur broke out around the room as everyone looked between father and son. Panther remained expressionless, not giving away how he felt about being paired up against his legendary father. Even I couldn’t get a read on him, not sure whether he was freaked, excited, nervous…nothing. How the hell did he manage that?
But as I glanced at Captain Hughes, it became abundantly clear, because he wore the same unemotional expression as his son, neither of them willing to show their hand.
As Levy paired up the final competitors, I leaned in toward Panther.
“You good with this?”
Staring straight ahead and still as could be, he gave me the smallest of nods.
Damn. He had that cold aloofness back, something I hadn’t seen since the first week here, back when he wanted to kick my ass on the daily. It was as if he was laser focused from the moment his and his father’s names had been called, and, not wanting to interfere for once, I shifted back in my seat and looked again between the two of them.
It may not have been the match we expected, but I had a feeling it would be one none of us would soon forget.
29 Panther
GOING UP AGAINST my father for the first time in front of the entirety of NAFTA hadn’t been high on my list of priorities. Hell, it’d never even made it to a potential list of priorities. How the hell anyone thought this was a good idea was beyond me, but at least I knew my father well enough to know he wouldn’t take it easy on me. Which meant if I somehow pulled off a win, it would be because I’d earned it, not because he’d let me have it.
But about that winning thing…
With my helmet in hand, I walked through the hangar with Solo biting his tongue beside me. Ever since we’d stepped out of the classroom he’d looked as though he had something on his mind, and I wondered if he’d actually say whatever it was before we got up in the air. He’d been quiet, too quiet, and it was starting to bother me more than what I was about to face.
I gave him a sideways glance. “Solo, spit it out. I know you’re dying to.”
“I’m not much of a spitter, but you already—”
“Don’t you dare finish that sentence.”
“But—”
“Solo.”
With a laugh, he put his hands up. “Fine, killjoy. I just wanted to know where your head’s at.”
“I think that would be pretty obvious.”
“Yeah, but how do you feel about it?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to me.”
I stopped walking and turned to face Solo. “It’s fine. I’m fine. It’s just another hop.”
“Against your father.”
“I’m well aware.”
“Then what’s the game plan?”
I couldn’t help snorting. “I knew you weren’t paying attention during the briefing.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about, and you know it. But you know what I think?” He took a step closer. “I think you should get up there and go fucking wild.”
I quirked an eyebrow. “Yeah, because going wild against my father with everyone in this place watching would go over so well.”
“You want to win, don’t you?”
“No, I want to lose,” I said, shooting him a look.
