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“You know you wanna,” Hollywood teased.
“Alright. What’s the bet?” Bolt didn’t want to back away from the challenge. He had his work cut out for him, might as well make it worth something.
“Dammit.” Eagle shook his head.
“I’ll even give you one.” Ranger stated. “You only have to beat him once.”
“Ok, and if I don’t?”
“Then you owe me a case of beer, my choice. Make that one for me and Hollywood.”
“What do I get if I do?”
Ranger twisted his lips. “Bragging rights?”
“Doesn’t seem like much of a bet, Bolt. Don’t take it. Just keep on walking. Come on, we’ve got pre-flight checks to do.” Eagle’s eyes were wider than usual.
“How about this? If I do get my one victory, then you can wash my truck and we both get cases of beer.” Bolt pointed at Eagle.
“You’re on.” Ranger stuck out his hand.
“Better get your buckets and sponges ready. And you might need a ladder to get to the roof of the truck.” Bolt laughed.
Eagle shook his head. “I can’t believe you just did that.”
“Good luck out there,” Hollywood called as Bolt and Eagle jogged to the jet.
If they ever needed four-leaf clovers, heads-up pennies, and horseshoes, it was now.
“How do you boys like your tacos?” Major Shipley strolled to the cantina’s tin counter, ready to take orders.
Bolt hung his head. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been taken down like that.
“Extra cheese and salsa for me, sir.” Eagle piped up. “What?” He looked at Bolt. “I’m eating lunch. No point in losing and starving.”
“Captain Hardcastle?” The major waited at the register. “What kind of tacos?”
Bolt left his shades on the bridge of his nose. He didn’t wear defeat well. “I’ll take a chicken and a beef. Thank you, sir.” He followed Eagle to a booth in the corner.
After the two jets landed they used the squadron car to drive out to the most popular taco spot in Yuma. It was a tradition when the two squadrons met to dog fight.
It didn’t matter what maneuver Bolt tried, Shipley was ahead of him. Bolt shook his head knowing that he had flown behind the jet and looked like a rookie next to this guy. There was still round two to get through. After lunch they’d be back in the sky trying to out-strategize each other again.
“Here you go, boys.” Shipley slid two red trays across the table along with a basket of chips.
“Thank you, sir.” Eagle doled out a pile of napkins along with the baskets of tacos. His head rose with a stream of cheese running down the side of his mouth.
Bolt eyed him. How could he eat? The flight had gone wrong from the start and the next one was bound to be the same. Bolt had lost his appetite.
“How long have you two been flying with the Rebels? Surprised we’ve never matched up before.” Shipley slurped on his tea.
“I joined the squadron last year, and Eagle and I have been flying together since then.”
“Alright. How do you like it so far?”
Bolt thought about how to answer. He enjoyed San Diego and he made friends quickly with the guys in the squadron. Things were different for him though after his Afghanistan tour. Riggs wasn’t in his life anymore. At least not in the way he had always been.
“It’s a great squadron. I think as long as I’m flying, I’ll be happy anywhere, sir.” Bolt reached for his first bite of taco. He didn’t want to be rude.
