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“Looks like they’re gonna roll,” Panther said, and not a second after that, they veered off in opposite directions and barrel-rolled over and over at a nauseating clip in an effort to shake us free.
But with Panther and me this close, we could see each and every move before they even made it. Gucci tried for a nosedive, but Panther plugged that sucker up, and Whiplash decided to see how strong my stomach was with some major three-sixties—stratosphere style. No matter what they threw at us, though, we were right on their tails, and it wasn’t long after that that Panther and I locked on to our targets and the mission was called. Whiplash and Gucci were done. Sayonara, suckers.
The euphoria of victory that washed over me as the results were relayed through the comm made me whoop and fist-bump the air. Panther’s stealth tactics had been the perfect move for today’s mission—we’d been the hunters seeking our prey—and as I flew past Whiplash’s plane and she shot me the finger, I couldn’t help but laugh, my joy overtaking me.
You gotta love it when the dead can still flip you off.
The four of us leveled out, I moved into position by Panther to head back to base, and it occurred to me that this might be the last time I ever flew with him like this. It was almost enough to take away from the jubilant feeling of success, until I remembered that whatever path we chose to take after this, we were taking it together.
There would be other highs, other moments to share, so I needed to bask in this one now and then store it away as one of the best moments of my life. This was a time for celebration, and I was fairly certain there would be more where that came from.
I couldn’t be one hundred percent positive, but I was pretty sure that today’s win had also just secured the top spot in the program for one of us.
I touched down, climbed out of the plane, and rushed over to Panther, tearing off my helmet. When he looked at me and smiled, I got my first high from being on the ground.
That proud, joyous expression crossing his face as he pulled his Aviators off made me feel like I was still flying. We met halfway between the planes and embraced in a victorious hug full of back slapping, whooping, and, finally, a gentle stroke of fingers down the cheek.
“I can’t believe we did it. You were amazing up there today,” Panther said. We turned to head back toward the hangar, and I couldn’t help but puff my chest out a little. It felt good to have Panther’s approval, and even better to have his respect.
“You weren’t so bad yourself, Lieutenant Hughes. That plan of yours was genius. They never saw us coming.”
“Damn right.” Panther grinned then stepped my way to bump shoulders, as though not being able to touch was as hard for him as it was me. “Thank God the weather was in our favor.”
“Eh.” I shrugged as we stepped inside the hangar. “If there’d been no clouds, we just would’ve switched to plan B.”
Panther stopped as we reached the door to the locker and bay area. “Which was?”
“Fly like crazy, reckless motherfuckers and scare them straight outta the sky.”
Panther chuckled as he pulled the door open for me. As I passed, he whispered in my ear, “I think our time together has taught you a little bit of restraint, Lieutenant Morgan.”
I agreed—being with him had taught me how to have a hell of a lot of restraint. It had also told me that some things—the best things—were worth waiting and fighting for.
“Lieutenants?” At the sound of Commander Levy’s voice, we looked up to see him standing at the top of the stairs leading to the observation area above the hangar. “Get cleaned up and meet the rest of the class up here in twenty.”
“Yes, sir,” we barked out with sharp salutes.
“Nice flying today, the pair of you,” Levy added before he headed back inside.
I started down the hall then winked at Panther and said, “I’ll race you to the showers.”
34 Panther
TWENTY MINUTES TO the second, Solo and I headed toward the door that led to the observation area where we assumed everyone was waiting.
Along with Gucci and Whiplash, we’d been the last to arrive back at base after the hops, and since no one had been left in the locker room, we assumed they’d already assembled for this final, and very important, class.
We were about halfway down the hall, employing a little bit of extra get-up-and-go, knowing we were the last to arrive, when Whiplash called out from behind, “Hey, guys? Wait up!”
We turned to see her rushing our way. She joined us, pointed at Solo, and said, “Don’t even think about talking shit to me right now, do you hear me? That stunt you two pulled today was—”
