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“He’s expecting you to play it safe. He can probably anticipate your moves before you realize you’re doing them.”
“And you don’t think I’ve done the same? I’ve watched him my whole life.” I put my hand on Solo’s shoulder and squeezed. “Trust me; I’ve got this.”
A wide smile crossed Solo’s face and he laughed. “Fuck yes, you do.”
“Thank you. Is that all?”
“Looks like you’ve got it handled, Lieutenant Hughes. Good luck up there.”
I nodded as I backed away. “You too. Try to take it easy on Commander Heinz.”
“Not a chance.” Solo winked before heading toward his jet, and I walked off in the opposite direction toward mine. My body hummed with anticipation, and I tried to block out the “who” part of what was about to happen and focus on the “what,” which was winning this hop. At this moment, nothing else mattered.
I went through my pre-check several times, as I’d tended to do since the accident, and once I was satisfied, I climbed into the Hornet.
Stay sharp. Stay fast. Stay on him.
My mind cleared, becoming laser focused on the job at hand, and in a matter of minutes, I was soaring up to thirty-five thousand feet, ready and on guard for anything.
I didn’t have to wait long. My father didn’t play games; he didn’t linger in the wings and wait for the perfect moment. He made the moment.
As soon as I reached altitude, I caught sight of him in my periphery, and he wasted no time diving in my direction. He had me on the defensive from the get-go, a position I hated to be in, but there was no way in hell I was giving him a lock on me in the first two minutes in the air, so I needed to make a move and fast. A split-second decision had me banking left and diving so fast I felt like my body was splitting in two. But if I was gonna have a fighting chance at winning this thing, I needed to stump his radar, and heading straight toward the ground was the way to do that.
He didn’t follow me down, choosing to back off instead, so once I was clear, I maneuvered the Hornet back on the horizontal, taking the long way around.
Let’s see what you can do when it’s a fair fight.
I locked him into my sights as we flew toward each other, ending up in a series of intense aerial spirals that had us chasing each other’s tails. Neither of us could get a lock on the other, and as we faced off again and again, it was clear how evenly matched we were.
Like father, like son.
A hop like this didn’t usually last this long, but I didn’t let myself feel the pressure of wrapping it up quickly. I had enough gas, and the motivation of a clean win was enough for me.
My father turned the nose of his jet up into the sky and went vertical, and I recognized a pattern I’d seen from him before. I knew exactly what he was going to do, and instead of watching and waiting, I decided to take matters into my own hands.
I chased his ass into the sky.
The sun made it hard to see well enough to get a clear shot, but I knew I had him. I just needed another second…just one more…
An alert sounded as I locked on to my father’s jet, and then the confirmation came through the comm loud and clear: “Razor’s out.”
Holy fuck. My head buzzed, and I didn’t even feel my body anymore. I’d just beaten my father. In front of his colleagues, my fellow trainees…Solo.
My vision blurred as I blinked rapidly, trying not to let my emotions take over, but I needed to cry or scream or something. I ripped off my mask and let out a loud whoop, laughing the whole way back down to base. But the second the wheels touched the runway, a whole new slew of emotions took over, ones I didn’t understand. The most startling of them all? Ambivalence.
Huh. Where the hell did that come from?
As I parked the plane, I saw movement out of the corner of my eye and looked toward the hangar to see Solo jumping up, pumping his helmet in the air. He had the world’s biggest grin on his face, and as the canopy opened and I removed my helmet, I could hear him whooping and yelling out, “Fuck yes! You just did that. Razor’s out.”
I plastered a smile back on my face and climbed out of the plane as he ran over to me, Houdini and Gucci hot on his heels. They greeted me with shouts, hugs, and fist bumps, each talking over the other one in a rush.
“Holy shit, dude,” Houdini said. “You just took out your old man. How’s that even feel?”
